Page 33 of The Way Home
When we came to the fork in the path, something stirred in me. I was feeling a pull to go down a path I hadn’t taken in a long time. The more I thought about it, the more right it felt.
“Should we go back to the dock?” Riley asked.
As much as I wanted to recreate the kiss that knocked us off our feet—literally—I had something different in mind. “Not this time.”
I led him down the split to the right. It was a longer walk, but Riley didn’t seem to care. In fact, he squeezed my hand as we continued in that direction. The pull tugged at my chest, as if I was connected to a thread and was being drawn by it. We were teetering on the edge of something, Riley and I. Something was building between us. It didn’t have a label, and I didn’t know how it would end, but every fiber of my being told me it was right. Riley and I were right. I’d known it as a teenager and had searched for this feeling my entire life. This thread that stitched us together and pulled us tighter and closer with each step we took.
When the tree line broke to reveal the monument, we both froze. There was power here, an energy that I could feel buzzing beneath my skin. Some force that was woven into the sand and rocks and water. Sacred. It felt sacred. And we had been beckoned by it.
“Wow. I forgot how big it was,” Riley spoke in a hushed tone as if not to disturb the rocks.
“I think it’s actually gotten bigger.”
The monument was made up of rocks of various sizes and stood almost five feet tall. Some you could fit in the palm of yourhand, and others you would need both in order to lift them. The rocks were round or oblong, all different shapes, but all smooth, worn down by water over time. They were stacked carefully and had been there for ages. The rocks further down had grown together, moss acting as a glue to hold their shape. Newer rocks had been placed on top as the monument continued to grow.
There was no sign, but there was a legend. One that gave the lake its name and one that I’d been thinking more and more about. I sat down in front of a tree at the edge of the area and leaned against it. Still holding Riley’s hand, I tugged him down to sit between my legs. He did, settling in until his back rested against my chest. My arms folded around him, and I rested my chin on his shoulder. We both stared at the monument, taking it in.
After a quiet moment of appreciation, I asked, “Do you remember when you gave me my nickname?”
“Jem?”
I grinned. I never got tired of hearing him say it. “Yeah. You kept trying to figure out ways to shorten my name to have something simpler to call me.”
Riley chuckled. “As I recall, youhatedthe idea of being a Jerry.”
“Jerry! Blech! Can you imagine? It sounds like a dad’s name.”
“You could be a dad,” Riley offered. The simple suggestion caused a weird flutter of emotion. It wasn’t something I ever imagined for myself, but hearing him say so suddenly gave me a glimpse of the possibility.
“Even if I was, I wouldneverbe aJerrykind of a dad.”
“No. You wouldn’t. Or a Remy for that matter.”
“Oh, God! Remy was even worse!” I snorted.
“I think you said something like, you would ‘rather gouge your eyes out with hot pokers.’”
A laugh burst out of me. “I didnotsay that.”
“I’m fairly certain you did. You could be pretty dramatic. You had this, like, soul-deep hatred of the name. I don’t know what a Remy ever did to you to deserve it.”
“Nothing. I’ve actually met a few Remy’s who were great guys, but it… just didn’t fit me.”
Riley tipped his head back to give me a little nudge. “I know. And it didn’t.”
I squeezed my arms around him, pulling him closer. It felt so good to be here with him like this, to hold him, and talk about the old days. “Do you remember when you suggested Jem?”
He inhaled deeply and let it out. When he spoke, he lowered his voice. “Yes, and I remember the way you stopped and stared at me as if I’d said something important.”
“You did, Ri. You really did. You said the name like it had been one you had already been thinking. Like it lived in your head and you were sharing it with me. You looked at me, and you told me you thought it fit me because I sparkled.”
A laughed awkwardly. “Shit, I was so corny.”
I leaned to the side so I could turn and meet his gaze. “No. It wasn’t corny. It made me feel so special.”
Riley arched his brows with confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I felt so comfortable with you, Ri. I could simply be myself. Everyone else always had me in a box. I had to be this perfect athlete, this perfect team leader. While everyone accepted me on my journey to discovering my pansexuality, I still felt like I had to play this role for other people. But with you… there was no pressure to be anything else. I could be a gamer, I could be goofy, I could be weird, I could be…”
