Page 4 of Something Good
“What else? Your level of mopeyness seems a little out of proportion to the job situation.”
“Mopeyness?” One corner of my mouth turned up in a smirk.
She waved me off. “Don’t be a smart ass. You know what I mean. What else is bothering you?”
“I ran into Jason Whitt today. You remember him?”
She thought for a moment before recognition registered on her features. “Didn’t you play flag football with him when you were kids?”
“Yeah. Football and baseball. I ran into him today when I stopped for gas, and he invited me to his grad party, so I went for a while. That’s why I skipped dinner.” I didn’t mention the part about running into Sammy. I was still feeling pretty unsettled about that and needed time to process.
“Good for you! I’m glad you put yourself out there.” I managed to stop myself from rolling my eyes. It was such amomthing to say. I knew she was worried about me making friends, but honestly, it just wasn’t a priority. I was only here for the summer and then heading to college in the fall, so I didn’t really see the point. But I knew she worried, so I didn’t say anything. “How was it? Did you see anyone else you knew?”
“It was alright, I guess. It’s just weird being back here. Like, I remember a lot of the kids, but they’re different. I’m different. I don’t know.”
“I know it’s hard being in a new place. You missing your friends from GI?”
I didn’t know how to tell her that I didn’t really miss any of them. The guys I’d hung out with in Grand Island had been alright, I supposed. They were your typical dude-bro jock types, but since we lived in the middle of Nebraska, they had a bit of a hick vibe going on too. Friday night football games were followed by bonfires in someone’s field, and when it got too cold for that, we moved the party to the inside of someone’s barn.Everyone spent most of their time either trying to get drunk or trying to get laid, and, more often than not, they were trying to do both.
Except for me.
Gay, but not out, I hadn’t been interested in getting my dick wet with anyone in town. Grand Island wasn’t exactly a metropolis, but, statistically speaking, I figured there was a decent chance at least a couple of queer kids walked the halls of my high school. But if that were the case, they were just as closeted as me. And despite my popularity, I’d felt invisible.
“Eh. Not really. I guess I should, but I don’t really miss anyone.” I glanced her way and caught the worry in her eyes. I hated when she worried about me. It’d been her and me against the world for the first eleven years of my life, and while my stepfather, Jeff, was a decent guy and had been around for a long time now, Mom and I had always shared a special bond.
I wasn’t sure if all moms and their sons had that kind of relationship, but I was glad we did, and I didn’t want her to worry. “It’s alright. Jason was pretty cool today. I’m sure I’ll hang with him and some of the other guys.” I tried to put on a convincing smile, but I wasn’t sure she bought it.
She looked like she wanted to say more, but she changed the subject. “Well, there are leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry. Jeff’s dozing in front of the game downstairs. He’s worn out from graduation this morning.”
“Yeah, thanks. I ate at the party, so I’m not super hungry. I’m just going to head upstairs.” I stood and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.
Up in my room, I flopped down on the bed and pulled out my phone. I scrolled through social media, accepting a few friend requests that had come in after running into old acquaintances at the grad party. Unable to help myself, I looked for Sammy but couldn’t find his profile on any of the platforms.
Leaning over, I opened the side table drawer and pulled out a shoebox I kept tucked inside. I rifled through the contents—an assortment of childhood foolishness made up of odds and ends I’d collected over the years—most of which I’d long forgotten the reason for saving. Tucked back in one corner, I found what I was looking for—a strip of worn leather, a letter, and underneath it all, a framed picture.
The leather had been given to me by Sammy just hours before we’d rolled out of town the last time I’d seen him. He’d had tears in his eyes when he’d given it to me, saying it was something to remember him by as a symbol of our friendship. I’d worn it on my wrist every day, not even taking it off to shower, until, eventually, the little strip of leather had worn all the way through.
I pulled out the letter, the only one I’d received from him, leaving the picture frame in the box for now, unable to bring myself to look at it. The paper was softened from being folded and unfolded so many times, so I handled it with care. I’d actually written him first but then hadn’t written again because it’d been too hard. How did you go from sharing all of life’s moments with your best friend to distilling everything into a letter you sent every couple of weeks? I’d intended to write back to him but hadn’t known where to start, and the more days that passed, the harder it’d been to write anything at all.
And so the days had turned to weeks and then months, and when I hadn’t received a second letter from him, despite the fact it was my turn to write, I’d convinced myself he didn’t really want to hear from me anyway. Maybe he’d moved on.
So I’d tried to do the same, to make new friends, but no one could replace Sammy.
I put the strap and the letter back in the box and tucked it into my side table drawer. I hadn’t read the letter, but I didn’t need to. I knew what it said. It was mostly filled with innocuousanecdotes about his summer, stories about his brother, and the latest drama with his mom. It was the way he’d signed it that made my heart clench every time I read it.
I miss you.
Love, Sammy
I’d loved him too. Or at least I had in that way you loved your best friend.
But I’d never told him.
3
SAMMY
I approachedthe crowd of kids standing outside Sherry’s Soft-Serv and immediately regretted agreeing to come here tonight. Jimmy’d given me the most pitiful look when he’d asked me to come with him, and I hadn’t been able to turn him down. You’d think that shit wouldn’t still work at his age, but the fact that I was here was evidence to the contrary.
