for Greg doing something like this, Jace just couldn’t imagine it. He
glanced over at his best friend to see shiny eyes. Okay, so maybe Greg
would jump off a cliff if Victor asked him to. He supposed that made two
of them.
Jace wondered if his attraction to Victor was just that—admiration.
Sure he found his body enticing, but he checked out Greg too, and there
definitely weren’t any feelings there. He probably wouldn’t recognize
love, even if he felt it. The realization was sad, but he didn’t stew on it,
since Victor was demonstrating how to smoke.
“Just like a cigarette,” he was saying, lighting the pipe, “but take it
slower. Just a little bit at a time.”
He made it look easy, but when Jace took his turn, he coughed for
two solid minutes. Greg looked smug until he tried. Soon they both
sounded like they were trapped in a burning building. Eventually they
got the hang of it. The pain of Jace’s raw throat became distant as
everything changed. He’d always imagined pot clouding his mind,
making it hard to think. Instead the world around him seemed to
intensify. Everything was interesting, not just Victor or Greg, but the
shape of the leaves above and the sound of the wind sailing through
them. Every thought seemed to last a small eternity, each a realization of
incredible depth.
“I really like camels,” he said.
His friends burst out laughing, and after a moment of bewilderment,
Jace joined them.
“Seriously! Everyone focuses on the humps, but have you ever
looked at their lips? The way they move their mouths… I dunno. I’m
sure they could talk if they wanted to.”
“They have funky expressions too,” Victor said. “Like a rich old
countess who’s way past her expiration date but still thinks she’s hot
shit.”
“What’s a countess, anyway?” Greg asked. “Aren’t they just some
made-up monster, like a vampire’s wife?”
Jace pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course they’re real. You’ve
just never met one because you don’t live in medieval Europe. Wait, did
you say vampire?”
“Yeah!” Greg appeared dead serious. “Like on Sesame Street.
Remember the Count? He was a creepy vampire.”
“Terrifying,” Jace said, shaking his head. “It’s a miracle you manage
to sleep at night.”
“I don’t like blood-suckers,” Greg said, sullenly slapping at his neck.
“One!” Victor said, doing his best Transylvanian accent. “One dead
mosquito, ah ah ah!”
“Both of you shut up.” Greg glared at them. “What are you guys
scared of?”
“Like our worst fear?” Jace asked.
“Yeah.”
“Well it’s not Big Bird.”
“I was little.” Greg glowered before cracking a smile. “Come on. Out
with it!”
Jace shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You do,” Victor said. “Don’t be shy. I’ll spill my guts right after
you.”
Jace looked him square in the eye and understood. This was a
challenge. Was Jace one of the herd, afraid to be himself? He thought of
the suicide note, of the fear that was enough to make him want to quit,
and before he could stop himself he confessed. “I don’t want to die
alone.”
There was a moment of silence that Greg seemed eager to fill. “You
don’t have to worry about that. Chances are you’ll be in a hospital with
your family there, or even if you’re in an ambulance, there will be a
paramedic. Of course if you get mauled by a bear in the woods, I guess
you’d be alone. Except for the bear.”
Jace nearly smiled. Greg meant well, like he always did. “I don’t
mean it like that. Although I guess that’s part of it, yeah. Mostly I don’t
want to go through my whole life watching everyone fall in love and
have kids, be these perfect little couples while I sit on the sidelines
wondering what’s wrong with me.”
Greg put a hand on his shoulder. “I keep telling you, man, there are
all sorts of girls for you. Maybe Angie’s little sister is a dumb idea, but
that Julie chick was giving you the eye. You just have to come out of
your shell.”
Jace needed to come out of something, or these little pep talks would
never end. Victor caught his eye, but his puzzlement didn’t last for long.
Jace wondered if this disqualified him, made him someone who just
wanted to fit in, but it wasn’t as simple as that. Victor didn’t know about
Greg’s island for gay people, or just how much losing his best friend
would tear Jace up inside. He kept his eyes locked on Victor’s,
wondering if he could silently communicate all of this.
“My worst fear,” Victor said, looking away, “is losing my mother.”
“Oh man!” Greg said. “Is she—”
“No.” Victor’s smile was reassuring. “She’s not sick or anything like
that. We’re on our own, that’s all. My dad ran off when I was little, and
from what she’s told me, we’re better off without him. Of course we
have distant relatives, but—” Victor considered them. “I don’t have any
siblings, but do they feel closer to you than a cousin or an uncle? I mean,
is the bond stronger?”
“Totally,” Jace said, Greg nodding in agreement. “I love my
grandparents, my aunts and uncles, but I’d take a bullet for my parents or
my sister without a second thought.”
“Dude,” Greg whispered, “you wouldn’t take one for your granny?”
“No one’s going to shoot my grandma,” Jace said dismissively.
“That’s good to know,” Victor said. “I mean that the family bond is
stronger with immediate family. Maybe it’s even more intense for my
mom and me because we’re all each other has. When I was growing up,
she worked her ass off to support me. When she was at home, she gave
me all of her time, made me feel loved and special.”
Victor’s face grew dark. For the first time, as far as Jace had seen, he
appeared angry. It wasn’t a pretty sight. “Mr. Collins.” Victor said the
name with a growl. “ He decided to lecture the class about single parents,
how insufficient they are, how sons grow up limp-wristed or daughters
turn out promiscuous like their mothers. A vicious cycle, he called it.
Only after he finished his ignorant rant did he think to ask if any of us
had single parents. I was pissed enough to raise my hand, but when three
other students followed suit, the idea of them having to listen to the same
bullshit set me off.”
“And so you pinned Mr. Collins to the chalkboard?” Greg asked in
transparent admiration.
“Yeah. And for all his big talk, he was terrified. I told him that my
mother was hard working and respectable, not some pervert who primes
his pump while drooling over the pretty boys in his classes.”
“Do you think he really does that?” Greg asked.
“Probably,” Victor said.
“Sick.”
Jace’s stomach grew tight at the sound of that one word. It was all
too easy to imagine Greg directing it at him and not at Mr. Collins. Jace
could feel Victor’s eyes on him, but he kept his focus on the ground.
“It’s only sick,” Victor said, “because Mr. Collins is one twisted
motherfucker. Even if he liked women his own age, it would be sick,
because no one like him should reproduce. Or be loved. But there’s
nothing wrong with being gay.”
Greg snorted, but then sounded puzzled. “Are you serious?”
“Absolutely. It doesn’t matter if someone loves a guy or a girl. What
matters is who they are inside.”
Jace raised his head, but Victor’s focus was on Greg now. That was
good. Unfortunately, what was said next nearly gave him a heart attack.
“What if Jace was gay?” Victor challenged. “Would you stop being
his friend, just because he’d rather be with a guy?”
Greg was stunned. He stared at Jace, mouth agape, like the idea was
impossible. Or like he’d missed the obvious all this time. When he
spoke, his voice sounded terse. “Are you?”
Maybe it was the pot, or maybe he was tired of feeling it, but the fear
inside Jace vanished. One nod. That’s all it took to confirm the truth.
Greg continued to stare, but eventually he looked back to Victor.
“And you?”
Victor smirked. “I am nothing, and I am everything.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean? Greg looked at Jace, as if
he could explain, but he only shrugged.
“It’s getting dark,” Victor said, standing and brushing off his rump.
“I’ll get the fire started.”
Jace rose to help him, even though he didn’t know how, but at least it
allowed him to turn his back on Greg. He walked to the edge of the
clearing to escape the tension, was considering walking home when a
hand grabbed his wrist and spun him around. Greg stood there, a look of
grim determination on his face. For one terrifying moment, Jace thought
Greg was going to deck him.
“You’re my best friend,” he said instead, his lips forming a line,
nostrils flaring. “I don’t care if you get a sex change and marry a
freaking goat! You’ll always be my best friend.”
Before Jace could respond, Greg threw his arms around him and
squeezed. Jace wanted to say thank you, but instead all that came out
were tears. His body shook and his nose ran, but the funny thing was, he
hadn’t felt happier in years. When Greg finally released him, it was clear
that he had been crying too.
“Must be the marijuana,” Jace murmured, wiping at his eyes.
“Totally,” Greg said, grateful for the excuse. “Real men don’t cry.
Even gay ones.”
Jace chuckled. “That’s right. Uh, thanks. For being cool, I mean.”
Greg nodded, cheeks red. “I better help Victor with the fire.”
“Yeah. Before he burns down the lean-to.”
They laughed nervously, and when Greg went to help, Jace stayed
where he was, watching them work. Funny how they could grow up
together, be friends their entire lives, and despite being so close, both fail
to see the truth. Jace needed someone—but Greg hadn’t understood who,
or at least what gender they would be. And his own oversight felt even
greater, because Greg had more love in his heart than Jace had ever
guessed.
Chapter Six
The fire crackled and spat, creating shadows that danced and leapt
around the edge of the clearing. Greg disappeared into these, Jace
watching him go until he could no longer be seen. Even half-stoned and
in the dark, Greg would find his way home. All he had to do was follow
the creek, but he’d be cold by the time he made it back. As nice as the
day had been, the evening warned of winter’s approach.
“He’s all right,” Victor said. Sitting in front of the fire, he stared into
its light. “A lot smarter than he looks.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” Jace said, taking a seat next to him. “He’s easy
on the eyes too.”
He was hoping for some sort of reaction to this bait. Jealousy or
shared interest, but there was none. Once everything had calmed down,
Jace found time to consider the conversation from a clearer perspective.
In retrospect, he was thrilled that Greg had asked Victor if he was gay
too. If only the answer had been clear. The topic of sexuality hadn’t
returned once they had lit the fire. They smoked more pot and let their
tongues lob silly and absurd words at each other. Later they heated up
and shared a can of soup, dipping stale bread into it until it was soft
enough to eat.
Now Greg had gone home, leaving Jace alone with Victor, and all
those unanswered questions were bubbling to the surface. “Did you do it
on purpose?”
Victor glanced at him, then back to the fire. His dark hair reflected
the light, giving it orange highlights. “Outing you? No. I really didn’t. I
wanted you to see that Greg would accept you, but he surprised me when
he put all the pieces together like that. As I said, smarter than he looks.”
“But you knew he wouldn’t have a problem with me being gay?”
“Yeah.”
Jace shook his head. “Don’t laugh, but are you psychic? Every time
you look at me, it’s like you can read my mind. And you knew Greg
would be cool, which sort of pisses me off, because I’ve known him my
whole life.”
To his credit, Victor kept a straight face. Mostly. “No, I’m not
psychic. I’ve always been a good judge of character. Like I knew you
would’ve shot me that night at the gas station if I tried anything.”
“I wouldn’t have!”
Victor nodded. “Yes you would. You just wouldn’t have aimed for
the head.”
Jace considered it. “Maybe I would have taken out a leg, just to slow
you down until the cops got there.”
Victor grinned. “See? It was either be your friend, or walk with a
limp the rest of my life.”
Except Jace didn’t want to be just friends. Forget any fantasy about
taking it slow. What he needed most, right now, was to know if he had a
chance. “What did you mean when you said you’re all or nothing?”
“Nothing and everything,” Victor corrected. “We kind of touched on
this the other night.”
“That doesn’t mean I understood,” Jace said.
“Probably because it’s silly.” Victor shook his head. “It’s not
important.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“Okay, let me put it to you this way. If you go to college and get
your medical degree, you’ll be Dr. Holden. For the rest of your life,
that’s what you’ll be. A doctor. Everyone will look at you that way. If
someone says, ‘Jace who?’ the other person will answer, ‘You know, the
doctor.’ Are you with me so far?”
“I think so.”
“Good. But if you don’t go to school, don’t limit yourself to one
career choice in life, you’ll always have the potential to be anything. By
never choosing one path, you’re free to walk all of them.”
Jace frowned. “But that doesn’t mean you can be everything. You
can’t be a doctor if you don’t go to medical school.”
Victor shrugged. “Why not? There are medicine men, or faith
healers, or people who use folk remedies. My mom puts half an onion on
a bee sting. In that moment, she’s performing the role of a doctor.”
Jace thought about it. “But she still has another job, and whatever
that is, it doesn’t limit her from being a doctor when the situation
warrants it. And besides, Greg asked if you were gay, and I’m pretty sure
that’s not a profession.”
Victor studied him. “You drive me crazy sometimes.”
“In a gay way?”
After a chuckle, Victor shook his head and said, “It’s a philosophy,
that’s all. I told you it was silly. Greg wanted to know who I am, and I
