As they walked across the lawn in step, Geno’s eyes kept flicking to his friend. Noting the set of his shoulders and the rolling lope of his stride. He was taller than Geno, more built up. He was always working out. For vanity or for protection?
Geno’s mind slid puzzle pieces around, twisting and rotating them. Chris was gay. Things that Geno imagined doing with Kelly, Chris did with men. Geno’s eyes kept sliding sideways, trying to imagine it. Chris and another guy around the side of Target, arms around each other. Chris pressing his mouth to another boy’s mouth.
Carlito’s mouth…
“Dude, quit staring at me,” Chris said. “Jesus.”
“Sorry. My head’s all over the place.”
“Yeah, I know. Welcome to my world.”
“Here you are,” Kelly said, coming toward them, her hand extended. “G, you left your phone on the chaise. It’s been lighting up.”
Three text bubbles from Carlos were on the display.
Mos.
A few minutes later, You there?
And then, Ping me back.
“I just need a minute to talk to him,” Geno said, and headed toward the side of the house.
Hey, he typed. Where are you?
Be kind, he thought.
He waited a long, anxious moment, looking from the phone up to the stars.
Los, he typed. What’s up?
Carlos replied: My car won’t start. Can you pick me up?
Where are you?
A longer moment, sharp-edged and sinister.
I’m at Anthony’s.
Geno closed his eyes. When he opened them, more texts had piled up: AND DON’T GIVE ME SHIT. I just came to buy some old lenses and stuff he had.
Geno gathered together all his common sense. All his empathy and compassion and sensibility, and he pulled it on like a jacket. Zipped it tight to his throat.
I won’t give you shit but Dad will fucking kill you if he knows you’re there. It was a lame threat. Nathan was on the other side of the earth in Singapore.
He won’t know unless you tell him, Carlos texted. Just come pick me up, OK? Is the party still going on? I want to hang.
Yeah, everyone’s here. Chris and I will come.
No. Just you come.
Why?
Because I want to talk to you about something.
Be kind.
Geno drew a deep breath in and let it out slow. OK. Give me the address.
17 Lantern Street in Heading.
Be there soon.
As he stuffed the phone in his back pocket, it pinged once more.
Love you, Carlos texted.
Geno stared. Carlito had never said such a thing. Not out loud, anyway. Never in a text. The words popped from the screen, not so much a sentiment as a coded message: Please love me.
Love you, Geno typed. His fingers were clumsy, making mistakes and backspacing through the two simple words. No matter what, he added. Dos.
Good boy, Analisa whispered. You’re the only one around here.
“Everything okay?” Chris appeared around the corner of the house. Geno looked from the phone to him. Tested the moment and found he trusted it. “You were right. He’s at Anthony’s house.”
“Fuck,” Chris said. “Oh boy. What’s going on?”
“He wants me to come get him. Alone. Says he needs to talk to me.” Geno turned the phone. “He said I love you. He… Dude, he’s never said that.”
Chris looked, chewing his bottom lip. “Think he’s trying to tell you something?”
“Yeah. I know this sounds weird, but I can kind of feel it.”
“Man, everything about tonight feels weird.” His eyes met Geno’s and held on. “But maybe this is how it’s supposed to be.”
“Yeah.”
“C’mon, I’ll walk you out.”
A big show in the adult-occupied kitchen as Geno blew the breathalyzer. Hoots and laughter as Captain Hook demanded explanation for the .009 reading.
“Maybe it was the red wine vinegar,” Mrs. Hook said, looking genuinely concerned.
“Or a swig of mouthwash,” the chief said. “Planning on kissing someone tonight, Mr. Caan?”
“Dad,” Kelly cried.
As he handed over the key fob, Captain Hook ruffled the top of Geno’s head. His hand rested warm and heavy a moment on Geno’s back. “Drive safe,” he said.
Tonight feels weird, Geno thought. But maybe this is how it’s supposed to be.
Chris walked him out to the car, carrying his backpack. “You still want me to sleep over tonight?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”
Chris shrugged, then handed the pack over. “My wallet’s in there so lock up if you leave it in the car.”
“Sure.”
The pack was exchanged as if it were something much more valuable. The weight of it settled in Geno’s hands and he felt, for the first time in a long time, a sense of purpose. A responsibility. A job. His mind couldn’t wrap around Chris’ sexuality, but it hooked into Chris’ pain like Velcro.
“I’ll do whatever you want,” he said slowly. “I don’t…get it. But it’s not something for me to get.” He hefted the backpack a few times, hoping Chris understood.
Chris looked away, his lips rolled in, nodding a little.
“What I do get is putting on an act when you really feel like jumping off a bridge,” Geno said. “This is safe with me, okay? You want it hid, it’s hid. You want to come out, I’ll be there.”
I’ll be with you. You and I will be We.
Us.
Nos.
A different Nos.
“Thanks,” Chris said. “Keeping a secret, it’s exhausting.”
“I know.”
“Fucking hell,” Chris said, his voice shaking. “I’m so tired.”
“I know,” Geno said. “Me too. We can talk more about it later. Or not. Whatever you want.”
He took a step just as Chris did. Each reached an arm around the other, gave a pull in, landing a fist on the shoulder blade.
You’ve hugged before, Geno thought, conscious of the press of Chris’ chest against his. You hugged before tonight and it wasn’t a thing. It’s not a thing now.
Except it was. Kind of. And it filled Geno with enough shame to make him flatten his fisted hand and rub a circle on Chris’ back.
“I’ll be back in a few,” he said.
He wouldn’t.
The next time he saw Chris was in the hospital.