You're Always in the Last Place You Look (22 page)

*

I had been right. Not even an hour after dinner Zane was wincing when he moved, the result of learning how to post Grace’s rough trot. Even I couldn’t sit it, and poor Zane had almost been rattled off of her several times, despite having decent balance for a
city folk
.

He shifted back and forth on the couch where we were finishing our homework. “I don’t think we were made to ride horses. I swear my ass is swollen.” Closing his calculus book, he draped himself over the arm of the couch, trying to take the pressure off his butt.

“Are you done?”

He nodded. Setting my pen into the crease of my algebra book, I stood, and took his hand.

“Come on. You’ll feel better after a hot bath and some aspirin.”

He gave me a skeptical look. “I seriously doubt that.” His other hand ran up the back of my thigh as his look became salacious. “Maybe if you, you know,
massage
my
really
sore parts? Then I might feel better.”

I was definitely down for that, but—I gestured to the kitchen. “Hello, parents. I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t go over so well, not to mention it wouldn’t help one iota with your aches and pains.” Being a responsible son sucked.

“I’m pretty sure it would take care of one ache...” he grumbled, letting me pull him off the couch.

“My God, you’re incorrigible.”

“I think you mean insatiable.”

“No, I meant incorrigible.”

Sitting on the edge, I filled the big old clawfoot tub in my folk’s bathroom. Zane pulled his shirt off, and sat next to me, skimming his fingers through the cascade from the arched brass faucet. I stared at his chest, or more accurately the huge wing tattoo there. You’d think it would mar his beauty, but instead it was just another exquisite part of him. The ink was crisp, black, and a stark contrast against his ivory skin.

I touched the broken lines across his breastbone, felt his eyes on me as I did so. “It’s not done.”

“I ran out of time.” His breathless tone brought my curious gaze up to the warmth of his. “I’m actually glad it didn’t get finished.” Without taking his eyes off mine, he took my hand and pushed it flat against the open area of skin. “Here, was supposed to be a heart. Across the heart Keith’s name was to be inscribed.” His fingers curled around mine, while his eyes fell back to the water, the moment lost beneath the weight of Keith’s memory. “I don’t know. I was stupid. I thought everything I was died in that van...” He swallowed. “But I’m beginning to realize that’s not quite true. That I’m still here...” His lips thinned, forehead wrinkling as if doubt continued to linger.

“You are still here.” I reached out with my other hand, and traced over the vine on his cheek. “Beautiful, vibrant, alive.”

He shook his head, and tried to smile, but his lips started quivering. “I miss them so much.” He was in my arms a second later, his face pressed against my neck, breath swift and staggered.

I stroked the back of his head. “I know you do.” What else was there to say? He’d miss them always, and there would be times, like now, the sorrow would overcome him. But no matter how much I wished I could take away the ache, all I could offer him was the strength of my arms, and hope he found some solace within them.

He cleared his throat, but his voice shook nonetheless. “I used to get mad at my mom for all the corny shit she used to do every year...I think I’m going to miss it though.” He sat back and turned off the water. “We were her babies, and she never let us forget that.” Snuffling, he wiped his cheeks even though tears continued to trail down them.

For some reason I found myself able to read between the lines. He was heading for another milestone he had to stumble over. “When is it?”

His head snapped up, his eyes blinking. “Tomorrow.”

I nodded, taking both of his hands, still damp from his tears. “Is there anything special you want to do for your birthday? I’m sure if my folks knew, they would do tons of corny things for you.”

His chuckle was short lived and ended on a hesitant sigh. “Other than—what did you call it? Moving the hay?”

“Buck hay.” I’d almost forgotten. Actually, I had forgotten.

“Right, buck hay. I have something in mind, just you and me. That is if I can even move by the end of the day.” The smile that followed was kinda leering considering a few tears remained, resting on the cusp of his lower eyelids.

“Should I be scared?” He was blushing, so, yeah, I was nervous in that exciting kind of way. At least whatever was roaming through his head would be legal by then. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t considered he could be younger than me. I was pretty sure nothing we had done could be considered wrong, at least I hoped his uncle believed in our innocence, even if his aunt thought us lecherous. Once he turned eighteen it wouldn’t matter anymore. I never would have thought my lack of experience, and slight oppression, would have come in so handy.

He shook his head gently, brushing his thumb across my lower lip. “I hope not.” His lips followed his thumb, just a whisper as they slid over mine. I liked these kisses best. They were born of emotions rather than need or desire, and I always got lost within them. Standing, he undid the top button on his jeans, I watched him for a second before my mind kicked back in.

“Whoa. Yeah. No.” I stood, and started for the door.
The difference knowledge could make
.

“Which one is it? Yes or no?” he teased, drawing his zipper down.

I put all my concentration into the door knob. “That would be a negatory since discovering you’re only seventeen.”

“I’m not seventeen...” he said, and I glanced back at him. “I’ll be nineteen. But I guess you wouldn’t know that. Sorry.” He shrugged almost apologetically. “I’ve missed some school here and there, then the accident...”

With a heartfelt sigh, I looked heavenward. “Thank God.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in God?” he said pointedly.

I grinned, overwhelmed at how relieved I was. A year may not be a big deal, but a crazy aunt added to the mix made it seem monumental. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m starting to think there might be something to Him after all.”

“If He
is
somewhere out there, I still think He’s an asshole.” And with that Zane half-turned, and dropped his jeans. My jaw fell open because, well, I seemed to have lost control over what my body was doing now that it knew there was nothing to stop it. My fingers prickled, wanting very badly to touch, my gut hollowed out, and my pulse went into overdrive. Other parts of me stirred too.

He stepped out of his pants, and into the tub, his head lolling back as he lowered himself into the water. I stared, I couldn’t help it. “You could stay...” he said without opening his eyes. “Join me even.” Lips curling up, he gave me a half-lidded sideways glance while running his fingers suggestively over the pink soap on the brass shelf hanging over the edge of the tub.

Opening the door, I swallowed the flood that had invaded my mouth. “That’s a terrible idea, and you know it,” I told him, even though every part of me wanted to do just that.

He set his chin on the edge of the tub. “But you want too.”

“Yes, I do,” I breathed, closing the door on the enticing sight. His chuckle came through the door.
Tease
! I tromped off to my room before I broke my father’s only rule, grabbing a hand towel from the linen closet on my way by.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Zane woke me a little after three in the morning. I tapped the touch lamp next to my bed, and immediately came fully awake. The side of his face was so tense one of his eyes wouldn’t open, and his twitching hands clutched my old teddy bear that lived on the single bed in the spare room. Take the piercings and tattoos away, and he looked like a little kid in his grey t-shirt and blue plaid boxers.

“Hey...” I sat up. “What happened? Where’re your pills?”

He drew in a shaky breath, and unfurled the fingers buried deep in Stanley’s worn tan hide, letting the bottle fall. I caught them, and opened the cap. “Two?” I asked, having seen him take two during past episodes.

He didn’t answer, causing me to take a deeper look at him. His toes were curled, the joints white, and every muscle up his legs quivered. His fingers kept kneading Stanley’s ragged hide, and his face was practically without color.

Standing, I gently touched his cheek. He jerked, startled, but I had succeeding in getting him to focus on me. “Bad dream?” He gave an almost imperceptible nod. “Two pills?” Another faint nod, as one hand released the strangle hold he had on poor Stanley. I set the pills in his palm, then opened, and handed him the bottle of water off my nightstand.

Once he swallowed them, he clutched Stanley closer to his chest, and closed his one operating eye. “M-m...c-can...m-m...st-stay?”

I swept his black hair back, noticing it was damp, and his skin clammy. I gave him a concerned nod, not caring about the consequences morning might bring. Climbing back into bed, he followed, shuffling as close as he could get to me, and huddling tightly around the arm I curled over him. Never once did he let go of my old bear. Awkwardly I stroked his hair until he relaxed, and his breathing steadied, telling me he was asleep.

I was now breaking that one rule I had hesitated to break only hours ago, but this was different. Zane had come to me rather than cutting and that was just too big for me to ignore. If my parents caught us sleeping together, they would have to understand sleeping would be all we were guilty of. Well, and maybe some serious snuggling in the morning. God, I couldn’t believe I just used the word
snuggling
. Laying my cheek against his sweat-moistened hair, I snuggled even closer to Zane.

As my eyes drifted closed, the patter of rain echoed through the night.

*

The bed was disappointingly empty when I woke. After getting dressed I went searching for Zane, and found him sitting on his already-made bed, tying his shoes.

Leaning against the doorjamb, I rubbed my eyes and said, “I could have sworn you came to my room, but maybe it was a dream because I woke up alone.”

He finished tying his shoe, and dropped his foot to the carpet. “Maybe it was a nightmare...” he said, staring at his hands.

“Why would you say that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Your psychotic boyfriend comes to your room in the middle of the night because he can’t even handle a bad dream? Sounds pretty nightmarish to me.”

I stepped towards him, but his firm head shake stopped me. “Zane...you’ve been through a lot, and I—”

He shot to his feet. “Don’t. You don’t know enough about me to make any sort of statement.” Snatching up his backpack, he muttered, “God I miss Keith.” As he stormed out of the room. Then he paused in the hall and glanced back, his face as tough and cold as it had been that first day. “I’m just using you, and you’re too stupid to see that.”

“No, you’re not...” I whispered to the empty room as I slunk onto the edge of the bed wondering what had caused him to utter such scathing remarks.

I didn’t believe him, but his words cut nonetheless, and the hardness surrounding him, bruised. He couldn’t have meant it, not any of it, could he?

I reached for Stanley. He wasn’t against the pillow where he should have been. I glanced around the room, grazing over my mom’s sewing corner, then down at the grey carpet, figuring he had fallen. My eyes narrowed on a speck of crimson. Reaching down I swiped a finger over it, and it smeared. Blood. Just a drop. My insides hollowed.

“Honey, are you okay?” Mom asked from the doorway.

“Yeah, but I don’t think Zane is.” I bustled past her.

“What do you mean?”

“Today’s his birthday, Mom.” I paused at the top of the stairs, and turned back to her. “He thinks he’s alone, and I let him believe that.”
God, how stupid could I be
? Of course he didn’t mean what he said, but did he have to give me such a hard test, because dammit I didn’t know the answers to any of this. “I have to find him.” I scudded down the stairs.

“What about school?” she called.

“Jesus, Mom, I’ll take the unexcused,” I yelled back, not meaning to sound angry. But how could she put school in front of Zane? God, I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to him. Yanking a blanket from the hall closet, I dumped my backpack on my bed, and stuffed the blanket in. How could I be so stupid, but then I’d never been one able to read between the lines. I just hoped he’d forgive me for letting him go.

“It rained...” Dad said as I entered the kitchen. He sat calmly drinking his coffee at the kitchen table, looking over his sermon notes. “Hay’s wet.”

I blinked, probably in disbelief. I could care less about haying right now. “Why didn’t you stop him?”

“Because it wasn’t my place to do so.”

“
Dad
!”

He set his mug down. “
Gabriel
, if I had stepped in, it wouldn’t have done either of you any good. He needs you, not me.”

“He might hurt himself though!” I couldn’t believe he hadn’t stopped him. Confused and angry, I shoved bottles of orange juice, and our lunches into my backpack.

“I don’t think so. I think he wants you to find him.” Dad took a gulp of his coffee while I gaped at him. If he
had
stopped him, then I wouldn’t
have
to find him. “Gabriel, if I had interceded...” He ran his hand through his hair thoughtfully. “Whatever happened is between the two of you.”

“It’s his birthday today. He’s having a hard time...” My father was right though. He had jumped, and I hadn’t been there to catch him. That made this my problem.

“Do you know where he might have gone?”

I clipped my pack closed. “I think he went to rail at God.”

“Then why are you still standing here?” he asked. I nodded. Dad smirked, knowing more than I gave him credit for. “I’ll call Merrill and the school.”

“Thanks,” I said as I slammed my feet into my boots, and bolted out the door.

As I made my way to Mary’s Wall, I couldn’t stop thinking about that drop of blood. Zane wasn’t suicidal, but he would cut to escape the memories, and it bothered me that one of these days he just might go too far.

The rain had ceased before I woke, yet the forest was still shaking off the spring storm, sending a continuous fall of fat droplets from the trees, while the underbrush used my clothes to dry off. By the time I reached the pipe trail I was soaked. I pushed through the scrub oak and Salal, down the steep path to Mary’s Wall.
God, I know I don’t believe in you, but please let him be here.

I crawled over the fallen pine, not seeing him right away, but knowing he was here because his pack was lying in the clearing.

“You didn’t have to come after me.”

I turned towards his wistful voice and found him sitting against the log, one leg dangling over the ledge, Stanley clutched to his chest.

“Yes I did, because I’m an idiot.”

He frowned, and I went and sat down, taking Stanley from him, and setting him in my lap. “Stanley knows all my secrets.” I stroked my thumb over the old bear’s nose. “He knows about the first time I kissed a boy, and how I cried a whole night when he left. He also knows how deep I buried that part of myself. He knows that I don’t believe in God. That I think of myself a failure, and how much it hurt me to be ignored by the other kids. How perfect I tried to be for my parents, even though that’s never what they expected. How obligated I felt to be that perfect son, being an only child.

“He knows how much I needed someone to see me. The real me that I had hidden so deep even I couldn’t find him anymore. But what he doesn’t know is how hard I fell for the person that finally found me. And what he said to me this morning stung, rendering me dumb long enough that I hurt him back.” Taking Zane’s hand, I wound my fingers between his. “I’m not perfect, Zane. I can’t read between the lines like some can. I didn’t realize I should have stopped you, until you were already gone.” I stared at the undulating green laid out before us. “I need to know one thing though. Please tell me that I’m not just a substitute for Keith...”

He didn’t answer. Hesitantly, I turned to look at him, afraid to see the truth. His head was leaning back against the log, his face hidden beneath his other hand, while tears tracked down his cheeks. I felt my own tears of disbelief burn my eyes, and released his hand.

His hand slid off his face, and he turned anguished blue eyes my way. “I didn’t mean...Gabe...” he choked out, throwing himself against me. “No. Fuck. I don’t—why? Oh God...so sorry.” The words came as if torn from him, and even though they’d make no sense to anyone else, I understood.

I wrapped him tight. “I’m sorry. I should have seen how much you needed someone.”

“I wish I was with them,” he cried.

“But I’m so glad you’re not.” I tightened my hold, letting him know I had him, and I wasn’t about to let him go now.

I wasn’t sure how long we stayed like that. Two boys clinging together, crying on the very ledge where a girl, no one had bothered to help, took her life so many years ago. That either of us, under different circumstances, could have ended up down there with her wasn’t lost on me.