hung over one shoulder, a dead giveaway that she was worried. “Did you
have fun?”
“Yeah!” Jace said, trying to sound chipper. “Just went for a drive.
You know how I love that. Probably would have bored anyone else to
tears.”
“Okay.” His mother looked somewhat relieved. “As long as you’re
fine.”
He nodded. “I am. I love you.”
“I love you too. Sweet dreams.”
Jace kept the smile plastered on his face until his bedroom door was
shut behind him. Then he exhaled. Leaving the light off, he threw
himself across his bed. What now? Deciding to kill himself meant not
having to make decisions about the future. Now what was there to look
forward to? A part-time job with a grumpy old man? Seeing the hurt on
his sister’s face when she learned the truth? A lifetime spent alone while
he watched everyone his age fall in love and build a family?
Jace growled in frustration and shoved himself up and out of bed. He
walked to the window, looked out at the sleepy suburb. He knew every
neighbor, every married couple residing on this street. Some of the older
people had lost their spouses, but even they had children and
grandchildren to help fill the void. Jace looked at the sky, wishing he
could see the horizon, see a town or city beyond this one. Somewhere out
there, no matter how far away, had to be someone else like him.
Someone just for him, his own Bosie or Antinous.
Clenching his jaw, Jace swore an oath to find him. No matter what
he had to do, how far he had to search, he would find that person.
Together, maybe they could prove the history books wrong.
Chapter Two
Jace stumbled to the breakfast table wearing a pair of pajama
bottoms and the same T-shirt his sister had picked out for him the night
before. Michelle was already there, stabbing at a bowl of cereal. Next to
her, their father thumbed through a copy of Reader’s Digest, ignoring his
eggs and toast. The number of people who mistook Michelle for his twin
was trivial compared to the number who thought Jace’s parents were his
grandparents. His father was bald down the middle of his head, white
hair combed over from the sides to compensate. Thick glasses perched
on the end of his nose, but he looked over them instead of through them
to read.
“Fried egg?” his mother asked from the stove.
“No thanks,” Jace said, heading for the cabinet with the cereal bowls.
His mother turned back to the pan. Only a year younger than her
husband, Serena had tried for years to have children until moving to
Missouri. Here the family doctor—fresh out of a university—convinced
her to give in vitro fertilization a try. Obviously it had worked. Michelle
hated being a test-tube baby, but Jace loved it and told anyone who
would listen. The other kids at school would look at him like he was a
clone or a mad scientist’s experiment, which always cracked him up.
“What did you do last night?” his father asked as Jace sat.
“Nothing.”
His father licked his finger and turned a page. “That’s not what I
heard.”
Jace glanced over at Michelle, who gave a barely perceptible shake
of her head. She hadn’t betrayed him. “I just went for a drive, that’s all.”
“Oh, that’s all.”
“Bob,” Jace’s mother said warningly.
“Serena,” he shot back. “We talked about this last night. He’s putting
miles on the car for no good reason.”
Jace rolled his eyes and shoved cereal into his mouth.
“A car,” Bob continued, setting down the magazine, “that you have
to share with your sister. That’s not fair to her, is it?”
“I don’t care if he goes driving,” Michelle said.
Their father frowned.
“What?” she replied. “You gave us that car and said it was our
responsibility. Is it or isn’t it?”
“It is, but I expected you to actually be responsible with it.” Bob
picked up his Reader’s Digest again. After a moment of silence, he said,
“The ice caps are melting. Pretty soon we’ll all be living in swimming
pools.”
Just like that, the topic was over. Jace rolled his eyes at his sister.
Then they both smirked. Neither of their parents were big on discipline.
Their father doled out the occasional guilt trip, and their mother kept
them in line with her love. Or by making them feel like they were still
toddlers. Case in point: A plate of fried eggs was placed next to Jace’s
cereal bowl.
“You’re a growing boy,” his mother explained.
“Don’t forget to burp him when he’s done eating,” Michelle
murmured.
Jace moodily worked his way through the cereal, letting the eggs get
cold in protest, but eventually he ate those too. He hated being treated
like he was a child and took some delight in having very grown-up news
to share.
“I got a job,” he announced.
“What?” His father turned his thick lenses on him again. “Why
would you do that when I’ve been asking you to work at the store for
years?”
“The store” referred to either of the dry cleaning locations that his
father owned. One catered to the university, the other to the general
public. From what his mother said, they could easily sell the stores and
retire, but for now his father still enjoyed running the business.
“You always say I should be independent,” Jace countered.
His father lifted a wiry eyebrow. “I certainly have not!”
“No,” Serena chimed in, “that’s definitely not something your father
would say. Where is this new job?”
“At Bernie’s. I’ll be working part-time after school.”
“You’ll be working for Bernie Hudson?” his father asked.
Jace shrugged. “I guess so.”
Now his father appeared smug. “Well, Bernie is a client of mine, so I
always make sure to fuel up at his place. I even buy my whisky there. I
guess we’ll be seeing plenty more of each other!”
His father cackled as Jace cleared the table and pretended his family
didn’t exist. And to think he had felt so soppy toward them last night!
Jace rinsed the dishes and left them in the sink, retreating upstairs for
some quiet time and then a shower. He hated small towns. Of course
Bernard knew his father! The worst part was that Bernard might say
something to his parents. Unless he kept his part of the bargain. Jace
would keep his, being a good little worker as long as his suicide attempt
stayed secret.
Once clean and dressed, Jace headed out on foot. Today was his
sister’s turn to have the car, and he knew his father would be hounding
him about the new job. Or his dream of Jace taking over the family
business one day. Fat chance! The last thing Jace wanted was to be
trapped in Warrensburg the rest of his life. As soon as he graduated from
high school, he’d choose a college somewhere far away and never look
back.
For now, Greg’s place would be his only sanctuary. Jace didn’t have
far to walk. Behind his family’s house, the land sloped downward into a
small valley. No fence separated their yard from the property directly
behind theirs, a house situated atop the ascending slope. This was the
home of the Trouts, close family friends. Greg had been there for every
one of Jace’s birthdays and vice versa, as far back as he could remember.
Not that they had much in common. During childhood, living nearby is
enough to seal a friendship, but Jace would have liked Greg regardless.
They’d had their fallings out over the years, but nothing serious.
Jace pounded on the back patio door that led to the living room,
where he knew Greg would be watching one of the many action films
constantly on repeat. Luckily, Jace wouldn’t have to suffer through
another viewing of Rambo III today. Greg had gotten an archery set for
his birthday—their main diversion as of late.
Once Greg put on his shoes, they headed down the valley toward the
small lake that nestled there. They walked around its edge and entered
the woods, where they had nailed a target to a tree.
“You wanna go first?” Greg asked.
“Sure.”
“Too bad!” Greg snickered and unsheathed an arrow from the
homemade quiver he wore on his back. That he wasn’t shirtless and
wearing a red bandana like Rambo was a small miracle. As Jace watched
Greg’s arm muscles tense and flex with the effort of pulling the bow
string back, the image was annoyingly erotic. Jesus, he needed to get
laid!
Greg unleashed a set of arrows, cussing when each one hit the target,
no matter the result. “Shit!” meant his aim was off. “Fuck yeah!”
indicated that he had struck near the center. All around them leaves fell
as squirrels scampered away, just in case they became a more interesting
target.
“What did you get up to last night?” Greg asked.
“Nothing,” Jace said, knowing his best friend wasn’t prying but
looking for an excuse to brag.
“I had Angie over,” Greg said, walking to the target to pull his
arrows free. “Watched some movies up in my room. Mom was drinking
wine and didn’t care for once, thank god.”
“Which movie did you guys watch?”
Greg spared him a glance that said he wasn’t making sense. Jace was
used to those. “Some stupid chick flick. The point is, she let me feel her
up. And down.”
“Wow!” Jace said, feeling a little uncomfortable, but he managed to
match Greg’s leering grin as the bow was shoved into his hands. “Lucky
you.”
“Yeah.” Greg watched him shoot the first arrow. “She has a sister. A
couple of years younger than us, but she has a birthday coming up. Not
ideal, but you know.”
Jace did know. He was perpetually single, which was starting to
draw attention. A single freshman or sophomore was one thing, but
junior and senior year brought added pressures. Like prom. No doubt
Greg would have a date, even if it wasn’t Angie by then. Greg always
had a girlfriend these days. And like their birthdays or first days of
school, the Trouts and Holdens would come together, their parents
nudging each other, smiling, and taking photos of their sons in rented
tuxedos. If Greg had a prom date and Jace didn’t, eyebrows would be
raised and might not ever come down again.
“Is her sister pretty?” Jace asked, buying for time. He didn’t need to
listen to Greg’s response because he didn’t care. This sort of pressure
made him sick to his stomach. Enough that he often considered telling
everyone the truth. Not having to pretend anymore, to fake interest in the
big-boobed costars of Greg’s action movies, or flirt ineptly with his
sister’s friends—all of that would go away if he just told the truth. Jace
only wished he had some way of knowing what everyone’s reaction
would be ahead of time. He supposed he could find out, as long as he
was clever about it.
Jace made small talk while they took turns shooting arrows, putting
distance between the discussion of relationships. “So I’ve been reading
this book about Leonardo da Vinci,” he said eventually.
“Oh yeah? Any good?”
Jace knew that Greg couldn’t care less, but it was the job of any good
friend to feign interest. Jace faked enthusiasm every time Hulk Hogan
won another wrestling belt, and Greg listened with practiced attention
when Jace felt like talking about historical figures.
“Yeah. Pretty good. A little weird though.” Jace made a face. “The
author thinks that da Vinci was gay. I guess he was accused of sodomy
once and—”
“Sodomy?” Greg smirked. “You mean butt sex?”
“Yeah.” Jace chuckled and cocked an arrow. “He also had a male
pupil, Salaì, and there seemed to be something going on there too.”
“Huh.” Greg watched the arrow strike the target. “Well, that explains
why the Mona Lisa is so ugly.”
“What?”
“I mean, if da Vinci dug chicks, he would have found someone
prettier to paint.” Greg thought for a moment. “That’s a weird thing to
read in a history book.”
“Yeah.” Jace laughed, mostly because he was nervous. “Then again,
gay people have always been around. That sort of makes it normal.”
Greg took the bow from Jace and went to retrieve the arrows. “I
wouldn’t say normal. Personally, I think they should all be shipped off to
an island somewhere.”
Jace’s stomach sank. Suddenly he was very glad that Greg was
facing away. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Greg returned to Jace’s side and fired off a few arrows.
“You know,” he said thoughtfully, “I have an aunt who’s a lesbian.”
“You do? Have I ever met her?”
Greg shook his head. “Don’t think so. We don’t see her much. She
lives out in California with her girlfriend.”
“Oh.” God how Jace would love to have a gay uncle! That would
show him exactly how the family would react, and if not positively,
would give him a place to go. “So do you wish she’d been shipped off to
an island?”
Greg fumbled his shot, the arrow burying itself in the ground. “No!
Jesus, dude! She’s my aunt!”
“But you said—”
“I mean the gay guys. I’m okay with lesbians. It’s kind of hot. Not
my aunt, of course, but you know.”
This was yet another mystery to Jace, as were Greg’s double
standards. “So what do you have against gay guys?”
Greg’s bow arm went slack. “Nothing. I just don’t want them
looking at me like I’m a piece of meat.”
The funny thing was, Jace never did look at Greg like that. Not
usually, which was ironic since Greg was a good-looking guy. The
consummate Eagle Scout, Greg had returned from each Boy Scout
camping trip tanner and more toned than before. His brown hair was
honey-colored from so much sun, his arms and legs thick from scaling up
trees or whatever the hell Boy Scouts got up to. Greg laughed a lot too,
which made it hard to stay in a bad mood around him. They hadn’t been
swimming together this year, but Jace could imagine how impressive
Greg’s body had become, the muscles more defined, maybe even a little
hair sprouting on his chest.
“Yeah,” Greg said. “Exactly like that. Stop it, dude! You’re creeping
me out!”
Greg laughed and punched him playfully on the arm. Jace made sure
to laugh back, to chuckle long and hard in support of it being a clever
joke and nothing more. But he found, as they continued their target
practice, that he couldn’t let the subject drop. That his best friend was
