absence, and that this one was especially lacking. Jace wanted to tear it
to shreds, to set it ablaze so he would never have to see it again. Instead
he handed it back.
“You don’t like it?” Victor asked.
His expression was so pathetic that it almost broke Jace’s heart, but
that was impossible, because his heart had slowly been breaking all this
time. Jace just hadn’t realized it until now. He imagined Star and Victor
gallivanting around Europe together, seeing sights he could only
imagine. The idea of going out of state for college had made Jace so
excited, but what was Sacramento compared to Paris? Houston compared
to London? And of course they would have shared a room, and probably
a bed, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask about that, because he was
pretty damn sure it didn’t matter anymore.
Star was right. They were both fools. Jace wasn’t even angry at her
anymore because he could imagine doing the same. Hadn’t he wanted to,
when asking Victor to move away with him? And poor Star probably
thought their European tour would make all the difference, that Victor
would forget about Jace and finally love her and only her. But here
Victor was, right back at Jace’s doorstep again. She would never change
him. He saw now that no one could.
“Jace.” Victor stepped close to him, enough that he could smell the
gel in his hair, see the flecks of gold in his one brown eye. And when
Victor moved in for a kiss, Jace meant to stop him, but he gave in,
kissing Victor with passion, because part of him was relieved Victor was
okay, was happy to see him. Jace breathed in his scent as deep as he
could, knowing he wouldn’t have another chance.
Then Jace pulled away.
“That was the last time,” he said.
Those mismatched eyes searched his, but this time they remained
confused. “What?”
“You’re my friend,” Jace said. “I know you don’t like titles, but
that’s what you are. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“I’m sorry,” Victor said. “She said it was going to be for a week. I
didn’t know how long we were staying until we were over there. I should
have called.”
“Or written a letter or even a fucking postcard!” Jace snarled, but he
forced himself to take a deep breath. It wouldn’t have made a difference
even if Victor had told him in person before leaving. Jace still would
have thought about Star’s desperate ploy, and of Victor seeing the world,
all while he sat miserable and alone in Warrensburg, Missouri. And
Victor was right about a lot of things. There was no sense in being angry
at someone you couldn’t change, so Jace did his best to set aside these
emotions.
Steeling himself, he said, “You’re my friend, and I want to see you
again. I mean that, but today I can’t stand the sight of you.” He turned
around to face the door, opened it, and paused. “Go see your mother.
She’s probably worried sick.”
“I love you,” Victor blurted out.
Jace looked over his shoulder, forced himself to smile. “I know.”
Then he turned and went inside the house. Once he was back in his room,
he opened the nightstand drawer and took out three envelopes.
Sacramento, Albuquerque, Houston. Anywhere but here.
* * * * *
Jace felt good. Past the tears, the heartache, and the second-guessing,
there was summer. Literally and figuratively. By the end of May, he had
made his peace with being only Victor’s friend. The first couple of times
they hung out together were tense, conversation stilted, and when it did
flow smoother, hidden insults seemed to be behind everything they said
to each other. Eventually, the ice between them thawed. At times Jace
even forgot about what they had and what they could have been. Those
were the best days, carefree and full of laughter, but often they would
end with Victor growing solemn. Or worse, Victor would look hopeful.
In June, Bernard offered Jace full-time work, which was appreciated
since Jace wanted to bulk up his savings before beginning his new life at
the University of Houston. He accepted the job on one condition: Jace
wanted to be assistant manager. Mostly he just wanted the job
description so it would look good on his resume, but he also did it to piss
Dan off. Jace didn’t really expect the authority that would come with
being assistant manager, but Bernard took him under his wing, teaching
him how his business was run.
In July, Victor moved in.
Sort of. He returned to the campsite not far from Jace’s house. He
had stayed there occasionally when the weather was warm, but now he
made it his permanent home. Every time Jace sought Victor, he would
find him there. His progressively dirtier clothes tipped Jace off that
Victor wasn’t going home anymore. He looked like he was losing weight
too, and he didn’t have much to spare.
“How long do you plan on staying here?” Jace asked him one
weekend night.
Victor stared at him from across the fire before answering. “Five
weeks.”
Penance. Or an apology. Jace was moved, but at the same time, it
made more work for him. He brought Victor food, usually leftovers from
family meals. When Jace’s mother learned what he was doing, she
started cooking larger portions to ensure there was more than they could
finish. Jace did Victor’s laundry a few times, despite his protests, and
asked Greg to help teach Victor to fish, forage, or anything else that
would keep him going.
As touching as Victor’s self-imposed exile was, Jace sometimes
wished he would go home. He began to fantasize about a boyfriend who
took care of himself, worked a steady job, had a phone number and a
favorite television show. He couldn’t picture Victor like that. Victor as a
contributing member of society wouldn’t be much like Victor at all.
Sometimes Jace imagined this discontent must be mutual, that Victor
wished Jace would chill out, not be so hung up on things like
commitment, monogamy, and responsibility. Victor probably felt equally
frustrated at falling in love with someone who was so wrong for him. Or
maybe, like Jace in his moments of weakness, he thought about how their
differences meant they had so much more to offer each other.
In late August, Jace threw a going-away party. He invited Greg and
Angie—who were still going strong, Michelle and her latest disposable
boyfriend, and Bernard and his wife—a woman who always seemed to
be cackling, especially when she was telling dirty jokes. Even Dan was
invited, but mostly just to annoy him. He didn’t come, of course. Victor
didn’t either, not that Jace really expected him to. Still, Jace kept
listening for the doorbell, and even though he had a good time, the
evening didn’t feel complete without him there.
After everyone had gone home, Jace walked down into the valley.
The night was blistering hot, making him want to strip off his clothes and
jump into the lake, so he wasn’t surprised to find Victor sitting on the
dock, drying off after a swim. All he wore was a pair of cut-off jean
shorts, but this didn’t unnerve Jace like it normally would. He didn’t
need to be strong. Not tonight.
“I’m leaving tomorrow,” Jace said. “This is my last night here.”
Victor nodded. “I know.”
“Come home with me.”
Victor looked up at him, his hair shaggier than Jace had ever seen it.
His own was still kept short. This lion had been tamed. No more running
through the jungle.
“Please.”
Victor offered his hand, and Jace helped him stand, but he didn’t let
go. After Victor slipped on his sandals, they walked together through the
dark, Jace remembering a colder evening the year before when they had
leapt and danced around the fire. A time when everything had seemed
possible.
They didn’t have much to say to each other. Not anymore. Once in
Jace’s bedroom, he let Victor kiss him, undress him, lay him out on the
bed. When Victor reached for the nightstand drawer, Jace nodded. This
was the right time, because it would be the only time. He wasn’t scared,
even at first when it hurt, because Victor still saw right through him, kept
his eyes on Jace the entire time and knew what he needed, even though
he couldn’t always give it to him. Their bodies moved together slowly,
both of them wanting it to last forever. Jace wished they had discovered
this sooner, had found this magic that let Victor become part of him. He
nearly cried when it was over and they separated again, but he didn’t. He
was done with tears.
“I’m going to keep my promise,” Victor whispered against Jace’s
skin as he held him. “I’ll always love you.”
Jace took a deep breath. “I’m still leaving tomorrow.”
“I know.” Victor kissed his shoulder. “I still have to stay here.”
There was no accusation in their voices, no anger or disappointment.
Only acceptance. Jace forced himself to stay awake the entire night, not
wanting to miss a single touch, the gentle sound of Victor’s breathing, or
the whispered promises. When the morning came, Victor untangled
himself and got out of bed.
Only then did Jace close his eyes, unable to watch him go.
Part Two:
Texas, 1995
Chapter Thirteen
“School’s in session,” Adrien said, strolling into their dorm room
wearing nothing but a towel.
“Uh—” Jace said into the phone pressed against his cheek.
Adrien grabbed the towel around his waist and whipped it off in one
smooth motion. “I’m going to teach you how to fold a towel correctly,
even if it kills me!”
‘Lithe’ was probably a fair word to describe Adrien. He didn’t have
an ounce of fat on his frame, and while he was anything but a beefy slab
of manly meat, the aerobics he was so fond of toned what muscles he
had. His auburn hair was already blown dry and swept back into a
pompadour, a combination of hairspray and mousse holding it in place.
Adrien stood there, buck naked, one hand on his hip while the other
flipped the towel around impatiently. The door to the hallway was still
open.
“Uh—” Jace repeated.
“You okay?” Greg said into his ear.
“Yeah, sorry.” Jace pressed the phone between his cheek and
shoulder and went to close the door. “So next week?”
“Friday night. Don’t forget.” Greg chuckled nervously. “You’re
going to be so surprised!”
“Surprised?”
“Yup! See you then. Peace!”
The line clicked and went dead. Jace glanced at the phone to make
sure it was hung up, then looked back at his boyfriend, who was
shimmying into a pair of bikini briefs. “Sorry, I was on the phone.”
“I kind of pieced that together,” Adrien said with a wink. “Your
mother?”
“Greg.”
“Oh, him.”
Adrien said it dismissively, but Jace wasn’t buying it for a second.
Greg had been cute when they were teenagers, but nearly four years of
college had shaped him into something normally found on romance
novel covers. Sans the pirate shirt and long flowing hair, thankfully.
Angie was ancient history, paving the way for tons of women who threw
themselves at Greg. Tons of women—and Adrien.
“Get over here,” Adrien said, standing by the bed. But this request
wasn’t of the amorous variety. “I’m not walking down that hall one more
time with a poorly-folded towel under my arm.”
“God forbid!” Jace said sarcastically, which Adrien failed to
recognize. This was a very serious issue! To him, at least.
As Adrien showed him the “proper” way to fold a towel, Jace zoned
out like he always did, thinking about what a curious creature Adrien
was. He was delightfully girly, absolutely lispy, and on bad days, terribly
queeny. Jace practically felt straight dating someone so feminine, but that
was the appeal. Adrien was unapologetically gay. When first arriving at
the University of Houston, Jace had gotten involved with just about any
LGBT group he could find, visiting each with one goal in mind: love.
Or at least a relationship. He dated a few closet cases, and while they
were nice enough, he found the secrecy and paranoia tiresome. He had
already moved on from that stage, and soon discovered that pushing
someone to come out before they were ready was impossible. Rather
than try, Jace focused on his studies instead. At the end of his sophomore
year, he allowed a friend to drag him along to a gay book club. Adrien
had been there, dominating the discussion with an hour-long rant about
how terrible the book had been, and even though Jace hadn’t read it, he
spent most of the hour laughing.
These days Jace knew that Adrien’s sarcasm and dark humor were
just who he was. Adrien didn’t realize that he was being funny, like now,
when he asked Jace to follow his instructions and fold the towel. Jace
made a mess of it, and Adrien pressed his hands to his cheeks in horror,
like he was witnessing a botched heart surgery.
“You weren’t paying attention!” he accused.
“You’re in your underwear,” Jace said, playfully slapping Adrien’s
ass. “Can you really blame me for being distracted?”
“I suppose not.” Adrien looked pleased. “It’s a good thing you have
me. Otherwise your towels would be a mess.”
“That’s why I asked you to move in,” Jace said.
“That was my idea! I’m the one who arranged the room transfer. And
I had to put up with that bitch from admissions.” Adrien pressed fingers
to his temples. “I had to jump through so many hoops that—”
Jace smiled as Adrien rambled on. He could be grating at times, but
Jace liked Adrien’s energy. And his pride. Not only was Adrien gay, but
his entire world was as well. Everything was rainbow flags, gay books,
homoerotic movies, nightclubs full of lip-synching drag queens and
sweaty men gyrating their hips together. Adrien often said he wanted to
get married on a parade float. Jace believed him. Adrien treated
heterosexuality like an urban legend. He could scarcely believe that
straight people existed. In a state where being gay could feel like trying
not to drown, Adrien managed to twirl through life like it was water
ballet.
That meant there was no confusion. No lectures about how there
shouldn’t be limits to what someone experienced. And no room for
