rock (10 page)

amber

I raid the liquor cabinet.

Dad and Lila are in bed but I’m not ready to do the same. Not yet, dammit. I’m sixteen, just finished mock exams . . . I’m going to stay up until midnight at least!

Jace too.

“What are you doing?” he hisses when I procure a quarter-bottle of whiskey.

“Grab two glasses and let’s go to our balcony.”

We sit against the semi-warm wall of the house, whiskey bottle resting between us, gripping our glasses and watching the last pink streaks fade from the night sky. The amber alcohol burns as it slips down my throat—it’s how I imagine liquid amber should taste: like smoked wood and honey. It warms my belly and my veins.

I’m too sensible to take more than one decent slosh, and the fact is a little depressing. I never do anything crazy or wild. I’m a straight-A student who’s never cut a day of school in his life. A guy whose only questionable behavior is hanging around Ernie and Bert and their filthy mouths. And mutually jacking off with a straight guy who is a few vows away from being my stepbrother.

Okay, so maybe I’m a little crazy.

I accidentally slosh whiskey over myself when I catch Jace looking at me.

“Boo,” he says belatedly.

“Dickweed,” I murmur.

He raises a brow. “Really, Cooper. And here I thought you were growing up.”

I’m tipsy. I feel the giggle before it comes out. “I want to do something wild.
Do
something.”

“Stealing Dad’s whiskey isn’t enough?”

“It’s a start. But I want something to exhilarate me.”

“Being with me isn’t enough?”

An awkward beat passes. At least, I find it awkward because I think Jace knows how good I feel when we are close.

He’s smiling at me, eyes twinkling.

It’s a joke!

I laugh and quickly stand. “Let’s go for a walk to the cave.”

We duck in to see the glowworms but I’m too restless to be here long and I don’t want to disturb them. I pull Jace out and drag him further up the creek. Walking in the bush at night lends a mysterious feel to the already eerie air.

We’ve probably walked the length of our street and are close to the local park. We stop at a pool in the river. Not the playground kind but the large-expanse-of-field-and-trees-and-river kind. It’s quiet. Empty. A warm wind pushes us over the pebbly bank to the water.

On the other side of the river, a large rock face looms. A long rope hangs from a tree at the top of it.

Jace bends over and for a moment I think he’s checking out our reflections, but he pulls at his laces and toes off his shoes. “You want exhilarating?” He grabs my laces too. “Then strip. We’re going for a swim.”

I laugh. “You can’t be serious. It’s cold in there. And dark. And what about eels?”

“Nothing will harm you.” He peels off his shirt and throws it with his shoes behind him.

Moonlight touches his chest. A breeze pebbles his skin, making him appear wet though he’s not finished undressing. The greenstone hook stands out against his lighter skin. I want to step closer, touch it—

Jace unbuttons his jeans and slides his thumbs under the waistband. He doesn’t look at me as he pulls down his pants and boxer-briefs in one fell swoop. They pool at his feet and he steps out of them.

He dips his foot into the river but I’m not watching his toes ripple the surface of the water, or the way his calf muscles flex, or even his fine soccer-trained thighs. I’m riveted to his ass and the curve of his cock, hanging from under a small patch of dark hair. The cock I’d had in my hand; the one I’d pumped to release. “Yep. Cold, all right.”

I jerk my head away. The whiskey must be working its magic on me because I’m stripping too.

Jace wades into the water, hissing at the cold. When he’s waist deep he looks back at me. I’m naked and sinking into the pebbles as I step into the water. It’s cold but I’m almost oblivious to that jolt because I’m experiencing a bigger one.

Jace is still watching me. His gaze zips the length of my body. He smiles and leans back against the surface. “Didn’t think you’d do it.”

I push into the deep part of the river, where the cool waters cloak my waist. “You don’t think much of me, do you?”

I wonder if he knows I’m quoting him from that first Halloween. Wonder if he remembers it as vividly as I do.

Jace smiles and submerges.

He’s hard to see under the water. Movement stirs at my side and something brushes lightly over my thigh. When Jace comes up again, he’s behind me. Water stirs against my back and Jace draws in air. At my neck, I feel his words. They’re cheeky at first but the twinge in his voice mellows. “I think plenty of you, Cooper.”

I turn.

Water drips from his hair onto his nose and runs over the tip. We’re standing close and the air seems to snap and crackle between us.

“Jace,” I say quietly.

This is your moment to tell him.

He pushes closer, water lapping against my stomach. My heart hammers so hard against my chest I’m sure it’s going to break a rib.

“Yeah?” He bites his lip for a moment and it’s beautiful. “What’s up, Coop?”

“I—I—”

My foot slips on pebbles and I topple into Jace, smacking his chest as I try to correct myself. Jace’s feet slip and bang against mine again—

We fall and the water sucks us under. Our bodies slide together as Jace pushes against me to set us on our feet again. His arm leaves my waist when we are both upright. I splutter up the water I swallowed.

Jace’s loud laughter echoes off the rocks and bounces off my skin. It tickles in a good way, and I start laughing too.

We splash each other and laugh hysterically.

We don’t stop until something slithers around my ankle and Jace swears to God it wasn’t him.

“Eel!” I bound for the riverbank.

Jace charges behind me, alternating between swearing and laughing.

“Maybe it’s not an eel. Maybe it’s a freshwater mermaid trying to pull you, her aquamarine treasure, to the depths where you belong.”

“You researched my birthstone?” I ask as we struggle into our clothes.

“Maybe a little.” He slips his T-shirt over his head. “Did you know aquamarine is thought to cure the poisoned?”

I do know this. I also know it’s a beryl mineral and ranges from 7.5 to 8 on the Mohs scale—I like to think I’m an aquamarine in strength of soul and mind, but I fear I break too easily. “If you’re ever poisoned, Jace, I’ll kiss you better.”

He laughs. I laugh.

We ride that wave home.

chert

When I wake up, I’m in my bed and Jace is plastered over my back. I can feel his breath falling in regular intervals on the collar of my T-shirt. His arm is around me but a touch lower than usual. My morning wood is practically poking his forearm and it feels great.

I wiggle down but I only make the situation worse. Now his morning wood is pressing against the back of my balls. So much for escaping to the bathroom without waking him. I roll my shoulder back so it hits his chest.

Jace jerks out of sleep, throwing his hands up so fast he bashes the greenstone against his teeth. “Huh? What?”

“We’ve got school,” I tell him.

He rolls over to check the clock and groans. “Do we have to?”

“Yep. I’d rather get ready now than have Dad come in and yell at us.”

Especially since we’re in the same bed.

Not that anything’s going on under the sheets, but it can’t look good. What would Dad say? Would he freak out? Would he take it in stride?

It isn’t like we’re related, after all.

Jace leaps out of bed like I’m holding a hot prong to his backside, and zips to his bedroom. I pull my shit together and am ready a half-hour later. Jace leaves his room at the same time, stuffing a notebook into his backpack.

It’s been a while, so I scowl at him.

He scowls back. And then it’s off to school. Annie is away on a field trip so it’s just us. I head to the bus stop and Jace stops me halfway down the driveway.

“Hide in the backseat and I’ll drive you.”

I bite my lip. He’s snuck me out a few times, and every time it’s an adrenalin rush. I freak out thinking he’ll be pulled over. “Sure,” I say, and head for his hatchback. Like always, we part ways at school and don’t look back.

Ernie and Bert meet me in the gym with fist bumps and high fives.

Ernie slings an arm around my neck in a headlock. Bert yells out, “Who’s got the Coop?” Ernie shouts back, “I got the Coop.” Their voices echo in the locker room, eliciting sniggers from our classmates. With a playful shove, Ernie lets me go. We’re dressing into sports gear when Bert pins a look to Ernie which can only mean they’re about to gang up on me. I have a feeling I know what it’s about. They want me to tag along at the school dance coming up. I’ve avoided it the last three years. Ernie and Bert gesture to all the guys in the changing room.

“Everyone’s going to be there, dude. You gotta come to this dance. It’s our second to last year of high school! We might actually get lucky this year.”

Someone snorts and Bert narrows his eyes on the culprit. “Shut up, Frank.”

“So will you?” Ernie continues, and Bert in his infinite wisdom adds, “If you don’t, people might think you’re scared of the girls. Or that you’re a fag.”

The last few years have proven their mouths are bigger than their ass holes for all the shit that comes out of them. But this is cutting close to home, and heat is rising to my cheeks. I stutter and stuff on a sneaker, yanking the laces tightly. I don’t dare to look at them.
Put your other shoe on, tie it up, get into the gym.

Ernie crouches to my level. His eyebrows look like one long black caterpillar. “Are you?” he asks quietly, and when I don’t—can’t—say anything and work the second sneaker, he swears. “Shit, you
are
.”

He hasn’t spoken particularly loud but the guys in my class seem to have a gossip radar stronger than my grandmother’s. The changing room grows eerily quiet. A few shuffles, someone zipping a bag, and the sound of feet as someone leaves, but the rest is mute. Ernie and Bert are staring at me but the other guys’ gazes are fixed on the walls, the hooks, or the cubbyholes. Their ears strain, anticipating whatever’s coming next.

I don’t give it to them. Won’t.

I stuff my clothes into my bag, push past Ernie and Bert, shove the bag into a cubby hole and walk out of there as calmly as possible.

No one says anything during gym. Near the end Ernie tries to grab my arm, but I shake him off. When it’s time to change back into my jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt, I zone out until it’s just me and the wood-paneled corner of the room.

English class comes next. Whispers stir, and guys avoid looking my way. Girls glance at me furtively, curious and sympathetic.

I scribble harder, concentrating on the text in front of me until the words pop out from the book and don’t make sense. I’m living in a cocoon of heat, and I’m just wishing it to blow over. I never admitted anything. They don’t
know
.

First break comes, and I hole myself up in the library. The whispers will stop soon. I’m not cool enough for this to be big gossip. By lunchtime, half my class will have forgotten.

But they haven’t. Everywhere I look, someone looks back at me. My toes tingle with the first signs of panic but I steel myself against it. It’s just a rumor. Stupid rumors. And no one is being a stupid dick about it anyway. At least not to my face. They all just leave me alone, give me a wider berth than normal, a berth that is swollen with their whispers. It’s like the telephone game, where each whisper gets exaggerated, until
he might be gay
becomes
he loves to take it up the ass
.

Ernie and Bert are speaking in hushed tones at our brick wall in the courtyard. Bert shrugs and gestures for me to come over there, but if I do, I’m telling them this is all their fucking fault. Then they’ll have all the proof they need that they’re right. I am a fag.

I grit my teeth, twist away from them, and scan the courtyard for a new place to sit.

My gaze falls on a familiar figure perched on a bench in the middle of the courtyard.

A skateboarder whizzes past me and jumps onto a low ramp, twisting and landing steadily.

My view opens up once more, and there’s Jace sitting next to Darren and some other dude he hangs out with. Darren is talking to him, and the way he’s hunched and leaning in has me holding my breath. Whispers louden and tighten around me like a rope. I can’t move.

Jace frowns and glances over his shoulder toward Ernie and Bert. His mouth moves but I can’t lip-read what he says.

A warm panic stretches up my calves like little shots of electricity. I want to retch.

Jace leaps up from the bench, and the pained expression on his face tells me he’s heard the whisperings too. The way he swiftly moves toward me tells me more. Not only has he heard, but he knows it’s true.

My throat aches and my vision blurs with tears. I struggle to blink them back. The sun makes the moon on Jace’s shirt glint, and his eyes beg me not to run.

That’s when I realize I’m reeling back from him. I’m not ready to have him know. Not like this. I shake my head.
Go away, go away, go away!

When he keeps coming, I turn on my heels and run through the whispering courtyard, behind the back of the school, and over the soccer fields to the far corner, which is void of life and traps me with chain-link fences.

“Shit.” I kick at the fence and it rattles.

Panic sweeps through me harder and faster. I need a stone. Need to calm down. I need a bloody stone!

My breathing is strangled and my chest hurts as I drop to my knees and feel through the grass for a rock, a stone—
something
. Blades of grass slice through my fingers as I comb the ground. My sight is blurry and a tear drops onto the back of my hand. I smear it on the grass and continue to hunt.

I grit my teeth shakily, to stop myself from doing any more of it.
Get it together. So what he knows? He was going to find out eventually.

“Cooper!”

It’s his voice. He’s found me.

Like I didn’t want him to.

Like I hoped he would.

He’s across the soccer field, jogging over.

I search desperately for a stone, digging into the soil like it will unearth my peace. When it doesn’t, I sit on my haunches and stare at my empty, dirty hands.

“Cooper,” Jace says again, standing before me wearing a worried frown.

“I can’t find one,” I say. He drops to his knees in front of me, shuffles forward and pulls my hands so I’m kneeling too. He wraps his arms around me and squeezes me tightly.

“Are you okay?” he asks against my hair.

“Yeah, no, I mean, whatever, right? Just rumors.”

He shakes his head.

“Fine,” I say and draw away from him to search the ground. “It’s true.”

Jace breathes out heavily and helps me look. After a few minutes, he shakes his head. “Stuff it,” he says and stands up, pulling me with him.

“What?” I say.

He balls up his fist and presses it into my open palm. “I’ll be your rock. Do you think you can handle that today?”

I squeeze his warm fist. His pulse—or is that mine?—beats under my finger.

I’ll never look at his hand the same. It will always remind me of this day, this humiliation, this anger, and this exhilarating wave I’m riding that’s drawing me closer to something I’ve only dreamed about.

I need to be honest. I look up at him and swallow. “I’m sorry, Jace.”

“Why? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

I shake my head. “I’m sorry because you weren’t meant to be the last person to know, to be told by a bunch of losers. You were meant to hear it from me. I wanted to tell you last night at the river.”

He sucks in his lips and nods before looking through the chain-link fence to the busy street. “You want to go home?”

“Cut school?”

“So what?”

“Okay. But I’m supposed to be at Mum’s the rest of the week.”

“I know,” he says as we head across the field. “Let’s go there then.”