Page 16 of Hello Forever
I walked away before he couldreconsider.
ChapterSeven
Cax
Ihad never been sonervous aboutanything.Ever.
Apparently, a case of nerves turned me into a vain person. I showered and shaved more carefully than ever. And then? I spent half an hour trying on shirts and staring into the inadequate mirror on the back of my tiny closet’s door. It was a total waste of time, since I ended up wearing the one I’d put onfirst.
Ridiculous.
Axel and I had shared a short and horribly stilted conversation at the gym last night. I’d sounded like the world’s biggest asshole. And it was all because ofnerves.
Nobody had meant more to my young life than Axel. Nobody. I’m sure I never toldhimthat.
Growing up in my father’s house hadn’t been fun. Mr. Military Man didn’t tolerate weakness of any kind. His favorite put-downs werefaggotandpussy. In his eyes, any small failure meant you were one or the other. Ormaybeboth.
Nothing I ever did was good enough for him. He pushed me to go out for football, but I couldn’t hack it. Never liked it. But it was years before he’d let me quit. And since my father had been tight with the jackass football coach at my private school, my dad’s influence and disapproval seemed to pour into every corner ofmylife.
Church retreats had beendifferent.
The church was my mother’s domain, and it had made her happy to see me involved there. And since my father could hardly argue against holiness, my interest in the youth group had been abovereproach.
Axel had been my truest friend, and the only person in my life who I ever allowed to see my weaknesses. Since he wasn’t part of my painful life at school, he didn’t know I was bullied. He didn’t care if I couldn’t throw aspiral.
The reason I played basketball with him was because he made it fun. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t very good at it—not at the beginning, anyway. Axel didn’t give a damn whether I was a worthy opponent. He always wore a smile while he was holdingthatball.
His enthusiasm had been contagious. And I swear that my new-found ability to play hoops had saved me from more of my father’s wrath. The sport wasalmostmanly enough for him. He’d let me switch to basketball when I was thirteen. And since I wasn’t completely hopeless at it—thanks to Axel—he’d decided it was goodenough.
Axel had walked into my life holding a basketball when I was eight. And without even knowing it, he’d made my life at home morebearable.
I’d known I was gay at a very early age, well before I knew what the word “gay” meant. I think I’d been around ten when I’d first realized I wanted to kiss Axel. Or the actor Elijah Wood. One or theother.
By the time we were teens, Axel had become everything to me. My friend. My savior. My crush. I’d kept that last bit to myself, but not because Axel would be horrified. Somehow I knew in my gut that he liked me, too. But telling him my feelings—or acting on them—had never been anoption.
When we’d been sixteen, for one shocking and glorious day I’d had everything I’d ever wanted. That day in the woods Axel had said, “Don’t be sad.” I’d wanted Axel more than I’d wanted my next breath, but, even then, I’d known itwouldn’tlast.
I’d been proven right about five minutes later. And after that awful moment of discovery, I’d done what I’d needed to survive. My father had kept one of his army boots firmly planted in my back all the way through high school. He would rant against “homos” and “faggots,” and I knew his speeches were directedatme.
So was hisviolence.
My friendship with Axel had been collateral damage. I’d turned my back on him to save myself, and I owed him an explanation. No wonder I was nervous about this dinner. The tension waskillingme.
I left for his place a few minutes early just because I couldn’t stand itanymore.
The walk to Axel’s house made me feel even nuttier. I didn’t drive, because I was too paranoid about someone spotting my car in his driveway. A driveway at the end of a dead-end street. That was crazy even for me. I was an adult who was free to have dinner with anybody on the planet. And Axel and I were going to befriends, nothing else. But I felt so transparent when it came to him. Like anyone could look right through me and see how I feltabouthim.
How I’doncefelt about him. A lot of time hadpassed.
Walking the edge of College Park to get to his street, I realized there was probably a shortcut through the woods. But I’d been practically speed-walking, and I needed to slow my pace or I’d arrive at his place unfashionablyearly.
The street brought me to an interesting old house with wooden clapboards. Axel had said he lived over the garage, so I started up the driveway. My progress was halted by someone on the house’s front porch. “Hey, ProfessorWilliams!”
Joshua Royce stood in the glow of the porch light. He was a student in the History of Agricultural Economics course where I was a teachingassistant.
Somehow I found my voice. “Joshua. Evening.” My neck got hot. “This is your house? I was just…”having a panicattack.
“Yep, we bought this place a few months ago.” He leaned over a stack of firewood and collected an armload of wood. “VisitingAxel?”
