Page 39 of Lost Boy
“Joking. Obviously.” Do I need to state the obvious? Fuck. It’s obvious, right?
Fallon snorts, and I only hear it because I’m right next to him.
Sweet relief washes through me. I was once again convinced I fucked it all up, ruined what I thought was a growing friendship and maybe even more.
“How are you captain of the basketball team? You are such a dork, Ry!” Sofie teases warm-heartedly. It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve heard that.
“Captain?” Fallon asks quietly from next to me.
“Yeah. Why? You didn’t know?”
My family is still laughing at me and chattering away while Fallon speaks to me in our own little bubble.
“No. Guess not.” He lifts one shoulder, idly pushing around the sad remains of Georgie’s boiled bacon and cabbage that no oneeverwants to eat. Not even Fallon.
“The big ‘C’ on my letterman jacket stands for captain,” I inform him.
“Hmm,” is all I get before he sets his fork down and leans back, folding his arms across his chest. I peer down at him, waiting for more. “Didn’t notice.”
My jaw ticks. I can’t help it. Not because he didn’t know I was captain. I don’t give a shit about that. He seems completely and purposefully oblivious to his environment and those around him. Like he doesn’t want to get too close. Doesn’t want tofeel. And that bothers me.
“Present time!” Sofie shouts from across the table, jumping from her seat and leaving her plate behind.
“I don’t think so, missy! Come take yer plate to the sink and help clear the table. It was a group effort to make this mess, so it’ll be a group effort to clean it. I’m off the clock as of six p.m. I’ll take an espresso while yer up too. Thanks.”
Sofie heaves a loud sigh before coming back and helping us clear the table, then using her favorite machine to make various lattes and espressos for everyone. She wants to become a barista at the local coffee shop downtown when she turns sixteen.
“Okay, that’s done, and Sofie’s right. Presents!” Joel exclaims giddily, a huge smile splitting his face. The pure joy emanating from him at having his nephew here and getting to celebrate his eighteenth birthday is endearing as fuck. Dad reaches over and squeezes the back of Joel’s neck. I glance away at their display of affection.
Joel always has such a sincere, youthful attitude. I know it’s one of the things that first drew my dad in. I also know my mom hates it even more that the man he left her for is thirteen years younger. It’s the cherry on top of her shit sundae, but I can’t feel bad. Not after the way she treated Dad.
The things she said to him, in front of Sofie and me five years ago when Sofie was only nine, can’t be repeated. I can only hope she doesn’t remember because it’s seared into my brain for all time, taunting me with the harsh reality that I can never tell my mother my truth. Who I really am and the life I will eventually live. Well, after basketball.
Fuck, though!
The idea of waiting until my basketball career is over to come out publicly is becoming less and less appealing the more I’m around Fallon. It’s getting harder to pretend I’m not gay. Harder to pretend I don’t want to take Fallon out on a date. And the hardest to pretend the situation with Mom doesn’t bother me. I’m so pissed at her. For all of us.
I shake my head, brushing my curls back with my hand and rubbing my brow. Why the fuck am I thinking about this shit right now? My breathing picks up, and my neck breaks out in a cold sweat.
Everyone’s getting up from the table. I see their lips moving, but I can’t hear them. I blink rapidly, trying to clear the darkening edges of my vision. I can’t get enough oxygen, and my heart is beating too fast.
A small, warm hand grabs mine and steers it to his chest. I can’t read lips, but I can readhisright now.
Deep. Breaths.
Like I told him.
I watch his chest, feel the rise and fall, and close my eyes. I focus on breathing when Fallon does.
After a few minutes, my heart no longer feels like it’s going double its speed, and I blink my eyes open slowly.
“Thanks for that. Did anyone see?” I ask awkwardly, rubbing a shaking hand across my forehead and down my face.
“No. They had already left.”
Oh, thank fuck.
“I’m sorry, dude. I don’t know what that was.”
