Chapter 4

Four

Josh

T hat’s one of the worst things for me. When his eyes open, but he can’t wake up. His brain stays where it was, and even if I rub him down and talk to him, and look into his eyes and kiss his cheeks, he can’t get back to me. Can’t stop crying. Can’t breathe.

I feel helpless. This time, he goes back to sleep when I start rubbing his back, but he’s twitching again just a couple minutes later. There’s some markers on the end table, left from when my little cousins visited a few months ago. So I grab the pack and draw a picture on his forearm, hoping that the tickling will feel good and keep his mind here with me.

I write Ezra and Josh in my best—still not that good—cursive and intertwine them, then draw ivy all around, and then an ocean in the background and a sunset on the left side. I tell him what I’m doing, and he’s smiling softly in his sleep like he approves. I add a little infinity symbol near the inside of his elbow, and his eyes lift open. He looks down and gives a sleepy grin, then leans up and kisses my lips .

He pulls me against him, wraps me in his warmth, and sinks back into sleep like he must be pretty tired. Probably the game and then the things we did today. We lost our virginities today. And it was fucking awesome.

I let myself relax with him and close my eyes. Think about college, in an apartment somewhere. Him and me, wrapped in some covers. Watching TV. Getting a shower together. In my dream, it’s cold outside and we’re putting our coats on. I can hear our parents talking.

“Are you ready to go?” I ask him.

He’s grinning.

Mom says, “Home a little early…”

I hear Carl murmur something.

There’s a part of me that’s not asleep. It’s the reason my eyes open, my heart racing before my retinas focus on the doorway to the dining room—where Mom and Carl are standing.

My mom’s mouth has fallen open. Carl’s brows are drawn together, his lips parted like he can’t find words. Ezra’s wrapped around me, his face pushed between my throat and shoulder. We’re both in our underwear.

I look from Mom to Ezra and back—as my pulse races and my body goes bloodless and cold. I can feel my hand tremble as I hold a finger up. I point to Ezra and then put a finger over my mouth.

There’s no logic in it. I just need to disentangle from him so he doesn’t wake up to this. Somehow, I manage to. Somehow, my legs hold me when I stand. I grab a pillow, holding it in front of me, and wave my mom and Carl back into the dining room.

“Come in here,” I say as I walk into the kitchen. I’m too scared to look back at them. I walk to the back porch door, and then I turn around and face them.

Time slows. My mom’s face has gone from shocked to what I think is fury .

“Josh!” Her voice is high and wobbly, damning in that horrified mom way. “What were you two doing in there?”

Carl’s mouth moves like a guppy’s. My cheeks and chest are burning. I can feel my eyes well as I look at Mom’s face. But I have to do this. I want to tell them while he’s asleep.

“Mom…um.” I swallow as my eyes well more and my throat tightens. “I don’t want y’all to freak out about this,” I say, one tear already falling. “But…I’m gay.” I feel my back hit the door, realize I’ve been moving backward.

More tears fall down my cheeks as Mom’s mouth presses flat and Carl’s eyes fly to her face.

“Don’t be loud, please.” My voice quavers. “Ezra will wake up, and it’ll scare him.” Thinking of Ezra finding out they know makes my chest ache, which makes me want to cry more. I cover my face and try to get myself together, but I know he’s gonna wake up and find out. He’ll probably never talk to me again. I put both hands over my face, trying not to really lose it.

“I’m sorry,” I manage through my tears. “It’s my fault.”

Mom’s hand on my arm startles me, and then my being startled startles her. She’s looking at me wide-eyed. “Josh…were you two—”

“We were on the couch, Mom. Sleeping.” I move away from her, my back to the wall by the porch door.

She looks at me, at my underwear, and I start crying more. “I’m sorry,” I’m starting—when I hear Ezra’s low voice.

“Mills?”

He’s at the back of the kitchen. His face is frozen in what looks like he wants it to be a neutral expression. But his eyes are pulled wide and his mouth is hanging slightly open. I can tell the second his eyes meet mine that he knows what’s up, and then he locks his face down, frowning at me as he stands there in his boxers.

“What’s the matter?” he asks.

I wipe my eyes, and his face twists in sympathetic upset. He walks quickly over to me, but he doesn’t step between my mom and Carl.

“What’s the matter?” he asks again, looking only at me.

I shake my head, and that’s when he moves in between them. He comes to me, wraps his arm around my back. I’m not looking—I’m looking at my feet, wishing the floor would open up and swallow us both whole—but I hear him say, “Is there a problem or something?”

My mom laughs. “I don’t know.” She sounds insane. “What’s on your arm?” she asks, like she’s just seeing that. I feel like I’m going to pass out.

“I feel like there’s things we weren’t aware of,” Carl says in a slow, measured tone.

I hear my mom’s soft, “Oh.” Then Carl’s softer, “Wow.”

Ezra’s arm tightens around me. “If Josh is in trouble—”

“No, he isn’t,” Mom says quickly. Her voice is high again. I look up at the moment Carl puts his arm around her. Mom’s eyes meet mine. “So you’re both gay ?” She asks it like she’s asking if we’re both secretly lizard people.

I’m opening my mouth when Ezra says, “Yeah. You got a problem with it?”

Mom’s mouth drops open, and her eyes fill with tears. Carl says, “Guys. Let’s all sit at the table.”

“You need pants on,” Mom says sharply.

“No they don’t. Let’s just sit down,” Carl says, as if he’s speaking to a four year old having a tantrum.

“I’m not mad you’re gay,” my mom says, sounding teary.

“Good, because if you were, you’d be a bigot.”

“Ezra,” Carl says in warning.

“She would,” he says.

His arm is still around my back, so tight it almost hurts. I look up at him, and I’m surprised—based on the tenor and tone of his voice—to find his face looks bleached out.

“Sit down,” Carl says softly .

I feel Ezra’s breathing pick up. “It’s not Josh’s fault,” he says, sounding breathless. “If someone has to go, it can be me.”

He drops his chin down to his chest, gritting his teeth as he inhales through his nose. His arm rubs a light circle over my back before letting me go. And then he’s striding, nearly sprinting, from the kitchen. I run after him as Carl calls behind us. But Ezra’s fast. By the time I reach his bedroom door, it’s locked.

“Ezra!” I’m still knocking when I see him shoot out my door, fully clothed and heading down the stairs. I guess he’s jetting down and he runs into Carl. I hear Carl’s booming “Whoa,” and then I hear my mom say something. The front door slams.

Ezra’s out the door and I’m not dressed, but I just know—like, deep down in my fucking bones, I’d bet the world —that if I let him go, it won’t be good. So I race out the door in just my briefs and dive off of the porch, catching him only because when he sees me in my undies, he freezes.

When I get my arms around him and we sink down to the grass, his whole body does this weird, hard shudder. He breathes heavy for a second, but then he looks down at me with his damp, dazed-looking eyes and he says, “You okay?”

He hugs me hard, his spread hands rubbing my ribs. When he pulls back so he can see my face, he says, “You want me to go?” His voice goes hoarse, and his eyes are welling up, but he adds, “I’ll say it’s my fault. That I…seduced you.” He huffs a laugh at that, but his hand goes over his eyes and I can feel his shoulders give a little quiver.

“It’s okay if you want me to,” he says, his voice going hoarse, even as he moves his hand down off his eyes, and they look earnest.

I cup his cheek. “Fuck no.” I grab his arm, pointing to what I drew. “You see that shit? If someone goes, it can be both of us. We’ll live…I don’t know where. Anywhere. In the forest. Together. Tarzan-style shit here. ”

His voice breaks again as he says, “I don’t want to mess up your life.”

“Ezra. You could never, ever mess up my life. Ever.”

My eyes are holding his, and I’m so wrapped up in the moment that I don’t see Carl on the porch till he says, “Boys.” I look up to find him moving slow as always, holding a blanket. “Josh, you’re exposin’ yourself,” he drawls. Ezra looks over his shoulder—I can tell he’s worried—as Carl kneels down and wraps the blanket around me…and around Ezra, too. He clasps a hand over Ezra’s shoulders and wraps his arms around both of us.

I feel Ez breathing. His face is pressed to my neck.

“C’mon now,” Carl says softly. “Let’s go in and grab some food and maybe have a beer and hell, prepare for grandkids. You boys seem like you’re moving way ahead of what we thought. Not quite the same direction.” He laughs. He hugs both of us, and when he lifts his head, he looks…amused?

He laughs, and I realize that this must be the shock of his life.

“C’mon, son.” He ruffles Ezra’s hair, and then says, “I’ll give y’all a minute. Cover up what God gave ya,” he calls as he walks back toward the porch steps.