The Elephant of Surprise (The Russel Middlebrook Series Book 4) (16 page)

"Just how far would you have taken it?"

"I'm not sure. But I think pretty far."

His clean white t-shirt was still visible from the front of his jacket. Yes, the gay stereotypes were sometimes right, but I guess they were sometimes wrong too. Wade was and always had been straight. It made total sense. The hesitation I'd always sensed in him? It wasn't because he was closeted—it was just him working up the nerve to kiss a guy when he didn't really want to. Or maybe it was a flicker of his conscience, telling him what a shitty thing he was doing. Either way, the Elephant of Surprise was once again rumbling back into my life, destroying everything around it, including my ego. I remembered that morning in the school hallway when Min and Gunnar had accused me of tempting fate by my forsaking love. Gunnar had predicted that fate would punish me by making me fall in love with an ice sculpture. He'd said, "Not only can it not love you back, it'll melt in a couple of hours anyway." That was actually a pretty spot-on description of my relationship with Wade.

I'll do what I have to do to change the world
, he'd told me.
Whatever it takes—anything at all.

Talk about unspoken passions. Maybe he wasn't willing to blow up water towers, but he was more than willing to dupe stupid gay boys into falling in love with him. He'd told me so outright.

"You wanted Min and Gunnar and me," I said. "But I was the only one dumb enough to fall for you."

"No!" Wade said, and the floor whined under his feet. "Russel, it wasn't like that."

"Then how was it?" Something occurred to me. I pointed to the metal locker behind him, the one filled with all his possessions. "Was I really the first person you'd ever showed that to? And the streetcar in the woods?" I'd been so touched both times that Wade was supposedly sharing parts of himself he'd never shown to anyone else.

He hesitated.

The light from my bike slipped from my hand. It hit the floor with a clunk and went out, but I didn’t care. Light or not, I was stumbling around in the dark either way.

"I knew it," I said. "It was all an act."  I'd actually considered giving up college to go away and live as a freegan! Has there ever been a bigger fool in the history of the world?

"No!" he said. "Russel, you
are
the only one. I've never told anyone else about this locker or that streetcar, I swear to God."

"Then why did you hesitate?"

"Because I knew at the time why I was doing those things, why you'd think I was doing them. That I was manipulating you. I knew that, and I did it anyway."

Part of me was still furious. But another part of me sensed he was finally telling me the complete truth. That was something, I guess. At least it was kind of flattering that he thought enough of me that he was so eager to recruit me to his cause.

I snorted.

"What?" Wade said, cautious, fearful that I was about to lash out at him.

But I didn't. Instead, I said, "I don't know. I've had people try to manipulate me before in order to get into my pants. But you're the first who's ever tried to get into my brain."

Wade smiled in the moonlight that shone down from the row of windows up by the ceiling. "I think I wish I
was
gay, Russel, because you're a pretty great guy."

Part of me was flattered, even as another part of me wondered if Wade was just trying to manipulate me again.

"No," I said. "If you're going to be friends with a gay guy, that's
exactly
the kind of thing you can't say to him."

He looked at me warily. "
Am
I going to be friends with a gay guy?"

"I don't know," I said, and it was the truth. Wade had done something inexcusable. On the other hand, he'd had his reasons. And I'd done a few inexcusable things in my life too. Or was I just being another moony-eyed gay boy, determined to excuse everything about the straight guy I was secretly still in love with?

No. The love I'd felt for him—the stuff that had been gushing into my heart, but had then dried up? It was long gone. But my heart wasn't a desert exactly. At some point, I needed to decide if what had been growing there could ever come back to life—if anything Wade and I had shared had been real. But there wasn't time for that now.

"What are you going to do?" I said to him. My hand was barely throbbing now.

"What do you think I should do?"

"Leave town," I said. "Tomorrow morning. The police won't understand. No one will understand. They'll think you were involved. And the only way you could ever convince them otherwise is if you hire a really good lawyer—and I don't think you have money for that." This was the one good thing about being a freegan: he
could
leave. Even I didn't know his last name. And I doubted his name was on any lease or bills or anything. Wade could hop a train or catch a ride and be gone in an hour.

"But freeganism is going to get some really bad press in the days ahead," he said. "It's going to get really ugly."

"That's going to happen no matter what. And how are you going to counter what they're saying if you're in jail? I'm serious, Wade. You need to go. Leave now." I dug into my wallet and gave him all the money I had—which, unfortunately, was less than twenty dollars. Then I nodded to the locker. "I promise I'll keep an eye on your stuff. It'll be here for you when you come back." I backed away from the doorway, indicating that I was serious, that he really did need to leave town A.S.A.P.

"Russel, I’m really, really sorry. About everything." He stepped into the doorway of the office and hesitated. But he didn't try to hug me or anything, and I appreciated that (mostly). Instead, he turned toward the exit.

"Keep in mind," I said, stopping him. "I happen to have some friends who are pretty good at communicating. And it just so happens that one of them is the very guy who spotted the E.L.F. plot in the first place. I have a feeling Gunnar'll put in a good word or two for freeganism."

"And then there's the guy who was smart and brave enough to figure it out and actually stop it," Wade said.

For a second, I was confused. Did he mean me? It's funny how I'd already forgotten what I'd done earlier in the night, how I was something of a hero—at least in a certain light and from a certain angle. I had the burn on my hand to prove it.

"I thought I could be the one to teach you all these important things," Wade said. "Turns out you were the one who taught me."

With that, he disappeared into the darkness, and I let myself smile at last.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"Well," I said to Min after I'd explained everything, "I made a complete fool out of myself yet again. How many times is that now?"

It was the next day, Tuesday. My parents had let me skip school and sleep in. After all, I'd been up most of the night—even later than my parents thought—and I was supposedly a hero too. But when I'd finally woken up, I'd really needed to talk about what had happened with Wade, so I'd ridden my bike over to Min's. Unlike me, she'd gone to school and come back already.

"Russel," she said to me, "you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Well, except maybe those pants."

"No, think about it," I said. I was pacing while she sat on the bed. "Last year, I pulled that stupid crap with Brian Bund. Then I go to summer camp and fall for that idiot Web. Then I almost let Kevin back into my life, only to discover at the very last second what a jerk he is. And now I have a completely made-up love affair with Wade. I am an absolute idiot! And what's wrong with these pants?" They were light blue cargo pants.

"You're not an idiot."

"Tell me how I'm not an idiot. And oh, God, Gunnar was right—I did tempt fate with all that talk about forsaking love! When Gunnar understands life better than you do, you know you've got a big, big problem."

"Please. You and I should both know by now that Gunnar is operating on a much higher plane of understanding than either of us."

Okay, so maybe Min was right about Gunnar. But she was still wrong about the rest of it. And she was definitely wrong about me not being an idiot. (But now that I took a good look at them, she may have been right about the cargo pants.)

"Russel," Min said, "there's something I need to tell you about Kevin—something you really, really need to know."

"Min, I know you're trying to cheer me up, but there's nothing you can tell me about that jerk that can—"

"He's not a jerk. Trust me when I say that Kevin Land is the exact opposite of a jerk."

What was she going on about? "Min—"

"Just listen, okay? He was only pretending to be a jerk. He's been trying to make you think he's a jerk so that you could forget about him and move on with Otto."

I stared at her.

Min kept talking, and suddenly the planet exploded, and the sun winked out, and gravity stopped working, and our entire solar system was sucked into a big black hole.

No, seriously: everything I thought about the world, everything I assumed I could count on, was blown to pieces.

Min explained how Kevin really had been in love with me last fall—that he really had come out of the closet for my sake, and he'd paid a real price. He'd absolutely wanted me to take him back.

But then Min had laid into him, told him that it had been Kevin's own fault our relationship hadn't worked out the first time around (which was true), that I had a great new boyfriend now, Otto, and that I deserved a chance to try to make it work with him. And Kevin had finally agreed with her.

Kevin hadn't been hooking up with someone else the night I'd gone to meet him at that park. It had been Min I'd seen him with, wearing Leah's overcoat—I'd mistaken her in the dark. Kevin and Min had been hugging, because Kevin had been crying, realizing that he and I couldn't be together anymore—that Min was right, and he needed to let me move on. And when I'd confronted Kevin, accused him of hooking up with older guys in the park, he hadn't corrected me. No, he'd played along, letting me jump to conclusions, pretending to be a total jerk, just so I would finally have him out of my system once and for all, so I could finally, truly be with Otto.

When she was done, I didn't say anything. I was too stunned. Also, the Earth no longer existed, so there wasn't any oxygen left to breathe anyway.

Finally, I choked something out. "But what about the thing with Brian Bund? And his fight with Ben?"

"I don't know," Min said. "Maybe that was real—none of us is perfect. Or maybe he staged that too."

But even as Min said it, I knew that that's exactly what had happened. He had seen me see him with Brian Bund, laughing in the library, and he must have realized I had Gunnar watching him too. He couldn't have me realizing he wasn't a monster, so he'd gotten Brian to pretend to have a fight with him just so Gunnar could see it and report back to me what a jerky person he was. And he'd done the same thing with Ben.

But if that thing with Ben had been staged, that meant Kevin would've had to know my schedule, to know I'd be walking across that little courtyard right then. And that meant he'd had to have
observed
me. Had he been watching me all along the way I'd been watching him? This made perfect sense if he still loved me the way Min said he did.

I could hardly believe someone had done all these cool things for another person, made all these incredible sacrifices. It was even harder to believe that someone had done all these things for me. But Kevin had.

For me. Kevin really did love me. He'd made his mistakes—hey, we all had. But unlike most of the other nine billion people on the planet, he was actively trying to make amends for them.

Talk about the Elephant of Surprise! But this time, he wasn't stomping on my head. This time, I was riding on his back, in one of those Indian saddle-like seat-contraptions, with the little tasseled awnings. He was carrying me down the mountain at a healthy clip, a victorious return.

I noticed Min staring at me, her forehead furrowed.

Suddenly, I was angry—not just at myself. At Min. I thought I'd been in the wilderness of romance with someone, that I'd been connected to her on this deep, metaphysical level, but it turns out I'd been alone after all.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" I said.

"Russel, I'm really sorry. I guess I was so caught up in the thing with Leah that I sort of forgot all about it. But I did
try
to tell you. Remember? Weeks ago? I tried again just yesterday. But you insisted you didn't want to hear. You said there was absolutely nothing I could say that would make you want to talk to Kevin."

I did have a memory of her saying something like that. But I hadn't known what I was talking about! Who wouldn't want to know
this
? It changed everything!

But I couldn't stay mad at Min. Now I was just angry at myself. What had I done? Why hadn't I listened when Min had tried to tell me the truth?

"I need to talk to him," I said to Min. "Do you think he'll talk to me?"

"You can always try." She pointed to her computer which was already on. I'd slept in so long it was now late in the afternoon. Kevin could be home from school by now—he could even be home from baseball practice.

I logged in and IMed Kevin (screen name: Lando14). I said I needed to see him, that I had something I needed to tell him.

Lando14: Fuck off!

I stared at those words on my computer screen. I now knew just how much love was contained in that simple "Fuck off!" Have there ever been two more romantic words in the history of the universe? It was all I could do not to cry.

Smuggler: This is really important. I'll be waiting at the stinky picnic gazebo in 15 minutes. Please come.

I logged off right after that, and I turned off my phone too. Maybe I couldn't make Kevin show up, but I could at least stop him from
telling
me he wasn't coming. For some reason, that gave me a feeling of control.

"Good luck," Min said. For the second time in two days, and the second time since I'd known her, there were tears in her eyes.

*   *   *

I rode my bike to the place where I'd told Kevin to meet me, the stinky picnic gazebo. Just so you know, it's nothing like the gazebo in that scene where Julie Andrews meets Christopher Plummer in
The Sound of Music
(that's what I would think). For one thing, this gazebo is in a park that's located next to a swamp, so the methane smell is just ridiculous. That's why no one ever goes there, for picnics or anything. But that meant it had been the perfect place to first meet Kevin, back when we'd both been closeted. It was also the place where, eight months later, he'd pretended to be hooking up with someone so I would get angry and reject him. 

Kevin wasn't there, so I waited. Was he even going to come? Kevin's house wasn't any farther from the gazebo than Min's.

After all the times I'd come here at night, it was strange to be here just after dusk, to watch the long shadows of the afternoon slowly blend into darkness.

I waited for a long time, but I wasn't about to leave. That would be the same as turning on my phone to see that he'd texted me to say he wasn't coming. No, the only control I had now was staying right where I was.

"Russel."

I turned. Kevin had somehow come upon me from behind. He looked smaller than I remembered, but also more solid. More real.

"Don't tell me to fuck off," I said. "Don't say anything. I know the truth about what you've been doing, and why. I made Min tell me everything she knew, and I figured out the rest."

"I know," he said. "I had a feeling that's why you contacted me, so I called her myself." So
that's
why it had taken him so long to get here.

"I can't believe you did all that!" I said. "Making me hate you so I could be with Otto?"

Kevin didn't confirm or deny anything. He didn't say anything at all—wouldn't even look me in the eye. He just stared off into the gathering night.

"I do love Otto," I said. "In a very real way, I always will. But not the way I thought I did. As a friend. We broke up a couple of weeks ago."

Kevin nodded. "I had a feeling. I've been following Gunnar's posts."

Kevin was following Gunnar online too? I guess I'd been really wrong when I'd said no one was reading his posts. Still, it made sense. This was even better than having one of his friends spy on me: he had one of
my own friends
spying on me.

Remember when Min had told me the truth about Kevin and I'd said the planet had been sucked into a black hole, and gravity and air had all disappeared? It was all back now, stronger than ever. The earth had never felt so solid. I stepped forward and kissed him, breathing him in—he still smelled like leather from a baseball mitt and dollar soap. I didn't care who saw us: I'd kiss him in the shopping mall if I could. So much had changed in the last year, since the very first time we'd agreed to meet at this gazebo, when we hadn't even known each other's names—only that we went to each other's school. I didn't feel like a spy lurking in the shadows now, or an outsider, or a fraud.

Kevin kissed me back. Boy, did he kiss me back! I was a guy who loved another guy, and that guy loved me back even if I was wearing truly horrible blue cargo pants. Maybe this was like that gazebo in
The Sound of Music
after all, except with hot guy-on-guy action. It didn't matter that I'd tempted fate those weeks before—I was getting my happy ending anyway. This was the biggest surprise of all. Was it because I'd been a hero back at the water tower—because I'd saved that woman and her kid? (Turns out they'd been there after all.) I still had my issues with fate, but now at least I knew it—she?—played fair.

But something was wrong. When I'd kissed Wade, I'd realized how good it felt to kiss a smile, but Kevin wasn't smiling now. He was crying. That didn’t feel so good.

I pulled back.

"What is it?" I said.

He turned away.

"Kevin?"

"I'm scared," he said. Sure enough, his shoulders quivered.

"What?" I said. "Why?" Now he was scaring
me
. Didn't he want to be together now?

He rubbed his eyes. "Because I'm finally getting what I wanted. And I'm not sure I could stand to lose it again."

I smiled, relieved. "You won't lose it. You won't lose me."

He faced me again. "You don't know that. You
can't
know that. Neither of us can."

And suddenly I saw what Kevin was getting at. He was absolutely right. Maybe Kevin and I would stay together this time, maybe we wouldn't. Who knew what would happen in a week or a month or a year? Who knew how I would feel—or how
he
would feel? If I'd learned anything these past few weeks, it was that Min had been right: I couldn't predict the future. No one could. That was the whole point of the Elephant of Surprise. And that damn elephant was never going away. He was as much a part of life as the air we breathe—air that was still reeking of methane, by the way.

Right then I realized something about the Elephant of Surprise, something I hadn't ever thought of before. I'd always thought of the elephant as a bad thing. But maybe it wasn't. It's not just that the elephant's surprises were sometimes good—like now, learning just how much Kevin had loved me all these months. It's that the Elephant of Surprise made life
interesting
. With that elephant around, you never knew what was going to happen next. That had been the problem in my relationship with Otto: the elephant had left the circus.