Page 19 of Cross the Line
His eyes go distant, and my stomach knots so hard I sit straighter.
“Ryker was my friend, and when we were on the road, we’d room together because none of the other guys wanted to room with the gay kid.” He huffs, anger and grief lined up side by side.
I remember those locker rooms when I came out. The gaps people left. The showers that cleared. Being the kid others avoid takes a toll. I don’t like the man in the photo, but I’m proud of the boy beside him.
To know Eli’s always been this accepting makes me love him more.
“Sit with me,” I tell him, pushing out the chair next to me with my foot.
Shaking his head, he says, “It’s easier to talk if I just stay like this.”
“Why are you so afraid of those photos? What do they really matter?” Although my remark feels hypocritical, it’s still true.
Those photos will be forgotten in a day or two when the next piece of hot gossip breaks.
“Jayden,” he says, pinning me in place with a beseeching look. “When you came out, did you come out to your family or broadcast it to the whole world?”
“Are you coming out?” The question rolls off my tongue too quickly.
Eli’s gaze flashes to mine as he points at the screen in front of me and growls, “Thatis my deepest, darkest secret right there. That night…”
His voice breaks with a tormented rasp that shudders through me.
I’m breaking for him, and I don’t even know why. There’s just this sinking feeling that keeps burrowing lower and lower, and my dread is growing by the second.
If I weren’t certain that he needs the space to center himself, I’d wrap myself around him and hold him. I’d absorb all his pain if I could.
Fuck, it’s my only wish as tears sluice down his face. A torrential downpour of anguish that slurs his words. “That was the worst night of my life, JJ.”
CHAPTER 5
ELIJAH
SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD
It’s just a party.
One drink, and we’ll leave.
It’s what I keep telling myself when Ryker knocks on the door a few feet away from our room.
Everyone is already in Hughes’s room when we go in. The music channel is blaring on the television while the guys sit in a circle on the carpet. Furniture shoved to the walls. Each clique bunched together. Hughes fans a deck face down with a tall glass planted in the middle.
“Ring of Fire, assholes,” Hughes announces. “No fucking whining. No fucking cheating. If you can’t hack it, get the fuck out now!”
He cuts a look at us and bugs his eyes like, ‘What are you waiting for?’
“Come on,” Ryker mutters, dragging me across the circle so we’re opposite the douchebag crew.
Hughes rattles off rules. “Newbies go first. Sylkes, you’re up. Pick a card and pray for mercy!”
It’s only two drinks. I can go slow.
I flip the card closest to me.
Three of hearts.
“Three is me, Sylkes,” Hughes announces.
