Page 4 of Lost Boy
FALLON
The flight was long, and Uncle Joel talked a lot before I could slip my headphones on without being completely rude. He informed me of the private high school I’ll attend, where he’s a gym teacher and the head basketball coach.
As his dependent—if only for a week—I get to finish my senior year at this prestigious academy full of kids who probably won’t understand me. Or even like me. And classes start on Monday.Tomorrow.
Uncle Joel said his partner has a son and daughter who go to my school, and the three stay over a lot. I already knew my uncle was gay. It’s just something I’ve always known. Dad never cared, and I sure as hell don’t either.
At least they don’t actually live with Uncle Joel. I’m not ready for the whole blended family vibe. And I can’t say I’m completely thrilled about the prospect of other people being in my personal space after living in that shitty group home for a few days and living with Mom’s shitty boyfriends for a fewyears. But like Ms. Gail said, I’ll be eighteen soon. Maybe it’s better if I’m just alone.
I climb into the SUV Uncle Joel left at the airport, gently shut the door, and buckle up as he reverses. “I can leave next week. After my birthday. You won’t be on the hook for me anymore.” It’s the most I’ve spoken to him since he picked me up in Philly over seven hours ago. Judging by how high his eyebrows just jumped up his forehead, he might be a little shocked.
Uncle Joel clears his throat and regains his composure, pushing his thick-framed glasses up his nose. “Fallon. Thank you for expressing that. I’d like you to continue to feel like you can open up to me as we get to know each other and I gain your trust. Because there will be a lot more time, kiddo. You’re here to stay. And youwillbe getting a nice birthday dinner to celebrate. With presents. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. You’re here to stay, buddy.”
“Thanks,” I mumble, relieved he doesn’t actually want me to go. I can fight him about the birthday party later. I don’t want anyone celebrating me. There’s nothing to fucking celebrate. I’m alive another year, and yet I just don’t care.
We park at the shop across the street, and Uncle Joel turns toward me with a big smile. “Alrighty. Now that that’s settled, let’s run into the store real quick. I don’t know about you, but I am beyond jet-lagged.”
I’m sure he is. Two cross-country flights in two days will do that to a person.
He’s a great uncle, but it’s yet to be determined if I actually deserve him. We’ll see, I guess.
We hop out of Uncle Joel’s lifted Bronco, and I nearly faceplant, unused to such a drop. Luckily he’s on the other side and doesn’t see me stumble. Big vehicles and my height don’t exactly mix.
The little bell above the door chimes as we enter the airport-adjacent drug store late on a Sunday evening.
Uncle Joel hands me a red plastic basket. “Go pick out what you’ll need day-to-day. Shampoo. Deodorant. Body wash. Everything. Okay?”
I take the basket from his grasp but don’t respond, so he ducks his head until he’s more at my level. “Okay?” he repeats, and I chew on my lip ring, unsure how long the current toiletries I have in my bag will last.
Not long, probably.
I nod. “Yeah. Thanks,” I manage.
“Good.” He places his hand on my shoulder and gives me a firm squeeze. “I’ve got a few things to get myself. Meet me in the candy aisle when you’re done?” And then he grins widely before turning around to grab his own basket and disappear into the aisles.
After ten minutes, I have everything I need, including nail polish remover and a new bottle of onyx black. But I stand in front of the shelves of colorful hair dye. Half of my head is hot pink and half is black, but my natural hair color is dirty blond. I grab a new box of black dye but hesitate in front of the neon pinks and reds.
“You could switch it up. Start new,” Uncle Joel suggests from where he just snuck up next to me.
I drop my hand and scan the selection of colorful options. My eyes land on a blue—deep and bright and perfect. I reach for it.
“Good choice. I like it.”
Me too.
“You have school in the morning, and you can ride with me. You’ll have to wear regular clothes until we get you fitted for your uniform. Since this is all so last minute and under special circumstances, the headmaster approved it, and we put a rush order on the tailoring.”
I was already going to stand out with the bright-ass hair. Doesn’t even matter. I grab a box of color remover and drop my last items into the basket before following Uncle Joel to the candy aisle to grab fuel.
He’s just so. . . happy and smiley.
Was he always like this?
I can’t remember. Emails and voicemails don’t quite portray this innate. . .kindness.
But it’s just candy. Even though I’m a little thrilled to choose what I want when it's been so long since I’ve had the option. Not that I tell Uncle Joel that. It’ll only make him feel worse, and he’s not a bad person. I know bad people, and he ain’t it.
We make our selections and check out, leaving in a hurry, ready to gethome. To my new house here in California.
