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Birds of the Ferngill Republic

Summary:

When Herbert Lyndon died, he left behind a will with a single stipulation: all three of his grandchildren live in Pelican Town for a year, or the farm goes to the highest bidder. Not wanting to see Joja take over his legacy, Eli, Ava and Mal agree to take the leap, despite knowing next to nothing about farming. For his part, Alex is just trying to get by; he's not looking for anything, and definitely not from the Big Man's grandkids. But some things are inevitable, and roots have a way of growing in the Valley, whether anyone likes it or not.

Notes:

This isn't a "farmer moves to the Valley, settles down and lives happily ever after story" - at least, not in the way you might be thinking. Please do heed the tags, as this fic does deal with potentially triggering material and situations, and take note of the magical realism tag in particular. There is magic of sorts in this, but it (as well as many other things) deviates from canon. Additional warnings will be posted before each chapter as needed.

Chapter 1: One

Summary:

"Hope is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul - "

- Emily Dickinson

Chapter Text

The first storm of summer came blowing through the valley, and with it, good news: the Big Man’s grandkids were coming to take over the farm. Nearly six months after his passing, mind you, but they were coming nonetheless. Pelican Town rarely got one new resident, let alone three, and the gossip spread like wildfire. The older folk remembered the Big Man’s son Aurelio, and of course his daughter-in-law Cassie; Aurelio had grown up there, and Cassie had lived on the farm with him and Herb for a year while she was pregnant with their oldest, but neither of them could look after the property. Too settled into their jobs and lives in the city, Lewis told Marnie over a pint in the saloon. He’d asked. But, he added, his foot brushing hers beneath the table, it was good that their kids had decided to take the reins before it was too late. Someone needed to keep Herb’s spirit alive.

Others were less generous in their assessment of the situation.

“Just what we need. A bunch of city kids who don’t know their ass from a hole in the ground,” Pam grumbled when she heard. “Bet you not one of ‘em knows how to brew a decent beer.”

From his usual table in the corner, Shane took a sip and privately agreed with her, even if he’d never say it out loud – he didn’t want to risk starting a conversation. Emily made a noncommittal sound as she slid Pam another ale and hoped the reserves from the Big Man’s last batch would hold until summer. From the way Gus’s mustache was drooping, she doubted it.

*

“We’re gonna have to find a new spot once they move in,” Sam complained, holding out his hand for the joint. Abigail rolled her eyes and passed it along, exhaling through her nostrils.

“No shit, genius.”

“I don’t care where we go, as long as it’s not my place,” Sebastian said. Abigail could barely see him in the shadow of the broken-down greenhouse, wearing all black and crouched on his haunches like some kind of golem. “My mom’s gonna kill me if she catches me again. She already took my bong.”

“Maybe we could keep doing it here.” Sam passed the joint to Sebastian. “If we only do it at night, maybe they won’t notice.”

“I’m pretty sure they’ll notice, man.”

“Well, where should we do it then?” Sebastian opened his mouth, then closed it. Sam shot him a triumphant look. “See? Nobody else is coming up with anything better.”

“Can you guys shut up for two seconds?” Abigail crossed her legs, then uncrossed them, prodding at her calf with a frown. Her new black tights already had a run in them. “Seb, quit camping that. You’re worse than Emily.”

“Calm down, it’s been thirty seconds. Here.”

“Wait.” Even in the dark, she could see Sam’s eyes bugging out of his skull. “You’ve smoked with Emily?”

“I can see it,” Sebastian said, digging his cigarettes out of his hoodie. “A bartender who doesn’t drink? There’s definitely something else going on there.”

Abigail took a hit and didn’t answer. Summer was already creeping in, the days growing longer and more languid, and when she tilted her chin up to exhale, there was the moon, its soft silver face smiling down at them. Something good was coming, Emily had told her the last time they hung out. Something to do with Herb’s grandkids. And yeah, Emily was a little weird with her crystals and patchouli and raw food diets, but she was also the only person who didn’t make Abigail feel dumb for believing in Ouija boards and ghosts, and she was usually right about that kind of stuff. Emily just knew things, like which crops were going to do especially well that season or who was going to get sick that winter, and she could predict when Marnie’s cows were going to calve, right down to the hour. The smoke from the joint mingled with the smoke from Sebastian’s cigarette, and Abigail watched it curl away on the wind.

Something good…

*

The rest of Pelican Town was too busy with their own endeavors to dwell on the news, once the initial excitement had passed. The season’s change was bearing down fast, and there was plenty left to do before they saw spring on its way. But the following morning, when Penny was getting Vincent and Jas settled for their lessons beneath the old oak in the square, a brilliant flash of color caught her eye, followed by musical notes falling like raindrops.

“Oh, look!” she exclaimed, and Jas and Vincent craned their necks skyward. A little brown bird flew by, throat and chest stained scarlet. Its song lingered in in its wake. “Do you know what that means?”

“No, what?” they chorused.

“A songbird flying due west means good luck,” Penny told them as she finished laying out her lesson plan. Sweet green grass poked through the blanket to tickle their ankles and the backs of their legs. “I haven’t heard one that beautiful in a long time.”

Vincent and Jas looked at each other, then back at Penny, mischief in their eyes.

“That means we don’t have to do our math worksheets, right?” Jas asked, and Vincent leveled his best puppy dog eyes in Penny’s direction. She couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sorry.” They both squirmed when she ruffled their hair, giggles bubbling up around them in the soft afternoon light. “Nobody’s luck is that good.”  

*

Whiskey Creek, the weathered sign on the gate proclaimed, the whole thing listing to one side after the latest storm. The letters had been branded into the wood, strong and dark once but faded now, and a splinter snagged the pad of Eli’s finger when he touched them. Beside him, Ava squinted down at the sign.

“Weird name for a farm.”

A droplet of blood welled up. Eli stuck his finger in his mouth and looked around. They were at the edge of the property, where the fence met the dirt road that led back into town. The ranch-style house their grandfather had built sat at the end of an unpaved driveway, surrounded by acres of sunbaked land. It still hadn’t sunk in that they were actually there; the hazy blue sky, the oppressive heat, and the droning of the locusts lent it a surreal quality, like standing inside of a dream.

“Was it always called Whiskey Creek?” he asked, dropping his hand by his side. His finger still stung, but he ignored it. “I don’t remember that from when we were kids.”

Ava shrugged. “Maybe that’s why we only spent like, two summers here growing up.”

“Explains why Mom and Dad fought us so hard on this. Trying to save us from the corruption of small-town living.”

Ava laughed, frightening a cloud of starlings from a nearby treetop. She had the loudest laugh of anyone he’d ever known. “Come on, we gotta head back. Robin’s truck just pulled up, and you know we can’t leave Mal unsupervised around new people.”

“He’s a grown man, not a puppy,” Eli said, the heat making him uncharitable, but when she stepped over the broken fence posts, he followed, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Dust rose up around her boots and his bare calves, red-brown clouds drifting in their wake. To their left, a sea of overgrown farmland waited, green and shining gold. A red pickup rumbled into the gravel-strewn driveway ahead of them and clicked off, engine dying with a whine. Robin, the woman who’d come to greet them at the bus stop, climbed out of the driver’s seat. With her was an older man Eli didn’t recognize. They waved as the siblings drew closer.

“Hi Robin!” Ava chirped, face almost as pink as her hair from the heat.

“Long time no see,” Eli added, and Robin laughed.

“Sorry to bug you kids, but I had some free time today, so I thought I’d stop by and make sure the wiring in this place is holding up. Herb never did like to let other people fix his things.” She motioned to the grey-haired man beside her. “This is Mayor Lewis. He asked if he could tag along and officially welcome you to the neighborhood.”

“Last time I saw you, you were both knee-high to a grasshopper,” Lewis said, shaking hands with both of them. “Your grandfather was a good friend of mine. We’re all sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks. Nice of you to come all the way out here.” Eli shoved his hands back in the pockets of his shorts, trying not to fidget. Summer was bad enough on its own, but his binder was starting to ride up, sweat making it stick to his back. Hopefully the shower still worked, or he was going to have to throw himself in the lake. Lewis peered past him, up toward the house.

“If memory serves, you have a brother… Malachi, right?”

Eli glanced over his shoulder just in time to catch the shadow at the screen door as it moved away. He and Ava looked at one another.

“Yeah, Mal,” Ava said carefully. “He’s unpacking. He’ll come out later, I’m sure.” It was a lie, but a practiced one, and neither Robin nor Lewis pushed them on it. Robin clapped her hands together briskly.

“Right! Well, I’m going to go around back and have a look. Shouldn’t take me more than a few minutes.”

She disappeared around the side of the house, and Lewis took off his cap and wiped his forehead, balding and shiny with sweat. “I’m afraid I have a confession to make.”

Ava crossed her arms. “What’s that?”

“I came here for one other reason.” Lewis resettled the hat. “As it so happens, you’ve arrived at a special time here in Pelican Town.”

“We did?”

“Today is our annual Luau. I doubt either of you remember it, but it’s a tradition in the valley. The Governor will be here, too.”

The salt-sweat was starting to itch where it gathered. Eli scratched the back of his neck. “Sounds fancy.”

“It’s actually very relaxed,” Lewis assured him. “You’re not obligated, of course, but you’re welcome to join in. It starts at the beach in a couple of hours.”

In all the excitement, Eli had forgotten how close they were to the beach. He perked up. “Oh, yeah. Could be fun.”

“We’re in,” Ava said. “Do we need to bring anything?”

“You all just got here. No need to worry about it. Oh, and feel free to come and go whenever you want. These things tend to be an all-day affair.”

“And most of the night,” Robin chimed in as she rounded the side of the house, gravel crunching beneath her work boots. Her bright yellow vest flashed neon in the sun. “Good news! I took a peek, and it looks like everything’s in decent shape. Thank Yoba Herb knew his way around home repair, eh? I can still come out sometime next week and set up an internet connection if you want.” She winked. “Unless you really plan on roughing it.”

“Please,” Ava said fervently, and Robin and Lewis both laughed this time.

“You got it, kiddo. I’ll be here first thing Monday morning.” And then it was time for the two of them to head down to the beach and finish setting up, so Eli and Ava stood in the driveway and watched them go, pick-up bumping and rattling its way down the dirt road until it was out of sight.

“So,” Ava said, after a moment had passed. “Robin’s kind of a MILF, right? Or is that just me?”

“Holy shit, Ava. We’ve been here five minutes.”

“So? I’m getting a head start.” She elbowed him, grin widening. One of her back molars was missing – a souvenir from a barfight a few years back. “Gotta find something fun to do around here.”

“Dude, gross. I don’t wanna think about you trying to bang the neighbors.” He elbowed her back, trying not to laugh. “I’m gonna go find my swimtrunks.”

“Yeah, alright. I’m gonna see if we have anything to bring.”

“Why are you so obsessed with bringing something?”

“Uh, because Mom and Dad would physically manifest and kick our asses if we showed up to a potluck empty-handed. Get with the program, Eli.”

“That’s… true. Damnit. I’ll help you look.”

There was no air conditioning in the house, but it was cooler inside than out. Everything was made of dark, polished oak and cherrywood with silvery birch accents in the molding and window frames, every inch crafted by Herbert Lyndon’s own two hands. Only two bedrooms, though, so Eli had volunteered to sleep on the couch, where he could drift off to the comforting white noise of the ancient television in the corner. The living room and kitchen nestled cozily together, and the front door opened into the adjacent walkway, which was decorated with their late grandmother’s paintings. Eli’s favorite was the one with the abstract blues and greens that hung beside the entranceway to the kitchen, paint running thickly down its canvas. It put him in mind of feathers, or rain. He poked his head around the corner.

“How’s unpacking going?”

“Fine,” Mal said, and shut the fridge door, water bottle in hand. “No thanks to you two.”

“We took a ten-minute break. Chill.”

“You could have taken one too, y’know,” Ava tossed over her shoulder as she sailed past, and Mal gave her the finger. Eli rolled his eyes and changed the subject.

“The mayor invited us to some luau thing this afternoon. You wanna come?”

“Nah.”

Mal cracked the seal on his water bottle and turned away, leaning against the counter. Eli watched him, guilt and frustration wrestling for dominant emotion. When he was younger, he would have given anything to be his older brother; he knew he looked alright, now, and Ava was pretty, but Mal had been in a class of his own. He’d inhabited an entirely different world than the rest of the mortal plane, coasting through life on a never-ending wave of free drinks and phone numbers scrawled on barroom napkins, red lipstick smudged at the corners. Eli had once seen a girl ride her bike into a planter when Mal smiled at her in a strip mall parking lot. But that had been years ago, before the accident and the scars – both physical and mental – had taken his brother and warped him into a sullen, angry recluse who worked at a corporate call center because it was the only job he could find where customers wouldn’t stare. It was strange to think that he used to lie awake at night while Mal slept without a care in the world, burning with envy and wishing they could trade places.

“C’mon.” Eli didn’t touch him, he’d learned the hard way not to, after Mal came home from the hospital, but he sidled around so they were facing each other again, putting on his best I’m your brother and you love me smile. “We’re gonna be here for at least a year. It wouldn’t hurt to get to know people.”

“Speak for yourself.” Mal set the half-empty bottle on the counter. “I’m just here to stick it to Joja. Everything else is you and Ava’s business.”

“What’s my business?” Ava reappeared at Mal’s elbow. She’d changed into a sky-blue sundress that showed off her tattoos, her swimsuit underneath, and her hair was tied back with a green bandana. “Your trunks are on chair in the bedroom, by the way.”

“Thanks, and our business is participating in the community,” Eli said. “Since someone’s pulling his shut-in Victorian spinster routine and doesn’t wanna see the light of day.” Mal gave them both a dirty look and left the kitchen, brushing past Ava. The door to the back bedroom slammed shut a moment later.

“Totally normal reaction for a thirty-year-old man!” Ava called after him. “Very mature.”

“Whatever. If he wants to throw a temper tantrum, let him.”

“We always do, don’t we?” She made a shooing motion in Eli’s direction. “Dude, get dressed if you’re gonna go. We gotta walk.”

Part of Eli – specifically, the part of him that wanted to take off his binder and spend twenty minutes with a cold drink and an even colder shower – was regretting going before he’d even left the house. But he did want to see the beach, and the promise of free food spurred him into changing his shorts and digging up an old t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. The bedroom looked like a tornado had swept through when he was done, but that was normal. The room he and Ava had shared growing up was in a perpetual state of disarray. It both comforted and made him strangely homesick. They hadn’t lived together in years.

“Good news,” Ava said when he came padding back into the kitchen, shoes in hand. She held up a six-pack of unlabeled bottles. “Found something to bring.”

“Where’d you find that?” Pause. “What is that?”

“Vegetable crisper. Pops was holding out.” The deep green glass caught the sunlight when she tilted them towards the window, examining their contents. “I’m pretty sure it’s beer… think it’s a problem they’re not labeled?”

“Nah,” Eli said, slipping on his shoes. “We can’t be the first people in this town to poison someone via questionable homebrew, right?”

“I’m trying to make a good first impression! Ass.”

“I’m not sure attempted murder is the best way to do that, but hey. You do you.”

Ava chucked her sandal at him.

 

The walk was a long one, made longer by the sweltering weather, but beautiful, with lush fields on either side of them and a sea of jewel-toned forests in the distance. Spiny mountains the color of rust loomed, jagged teeth piercing the cloudless sky, and Pelican Town nestled in the center of it all, cupped by the welcoming hands of the earth. Eli only had vague memories of their summer vacations there, near two decades ago now, and it felt strange and familiar all at once with its quaint brick buildings and cobblestone roads, lampposts lining the square and flowers growing out of window boxes like relics of forgotten times.

“I didn’t think places like this still existed,” he said, looking around.

“Me either,” Ava said. “It’s so weird to be back. I don’t think anything’s changed since we were here last time, do you?”

“No. Just Pops, I guess.” And Mal, went the unspoken refrain. They smiled sadly at one another.

The town square was deserted, the streets and buildings eerie in their stillness, but as soon as they crossed the long, rickety bridge from town to beach, the atmosphere shifted from empty to joyous. Everyone was on the beach with the gulls wheeling overhead on the ocean breeze, their cries drowned out by the waves and the sounds of laughter and celebration. Colorful blankets decorated the sand like patchwork. A little girl tore past them as they stepped off the bridge and onto hot sand, shrieking gleefully. A boy about the same age chased after her, and from near one of the fold-out buffet tables loaded down with food, Robin caught Eli’s eye and waved.

“Hey, you made it!” She’d changed too, into a yellow sarong patterned with palm trees and parrots. It matched the shirt of the man with his arm around her waist. “This is my husband Demetrius. Demetrius, these are Herb’s grandkids, Ava and Eli.”

Demetrius shook hands with them both, grip sure. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Eli pointed at the enormous cooking pot in the center of the gathering, suspended over a stone firepit someone had dug out for the occasion. Mayor Lewis was chatting with the middle-aged woman overseeing it, flanked by a portly man in purple. “What’s going on over there?”

“Oh, that.” Robin waved her hand. “It’s the Soup.”

“The Soup,” Ava repeated dubiously.

“Every summer, the Governor comes to visit, and everyone brings something to add to that pot so he can judge it. It’s supposed to give him a taste of the local bounty.” Lewis was looking their way, a distinct note of panic in his expression. Robin smiled encouragingly. “You think Lewis would be less nervous about it by now,” she added through her teeth, still smiling. “The Governor’s come every summer for the last fifteen years.”

“Which has nothing to do with him getting his picture in the paper every one of those years, I’m sure,” Demetrius said. Robin swatted his forearm.

“Wow. And nobody ever… y’know.” Eli motioned vaguely in their direction. “Takes advantage of the situation?”

Demetrius shook his head, expression grave. “We don’t talk about the summer of the anchovies.”

“It’s better some years than others,” Robin admitted. “But you should stick around after it’s done. That’s when the real fun starts.”

Eli’s first instinct was to say something sarcastic, like how he couldn’t imagine anything being more fun than taste-testing the mystery soup, but he held himself back. He didn’t know these people yet, didn’t want to mock their traditions on his first day here – neither he nor Ava used to be all that concerned about first impressions, but there they both were, wanting their new neighbors to like them. Maybe that was just part of growing up: smoothing out the rough edges while you tried to become someone better. Maybe he was finally getting there.

“Sure,” he said. “It’s not like we have anywhere else to be.”

*

Sunset came to robe the sky in hues of orange and gold like autumn leaves, and Eli’s face hurt from smiling. He’d eaten too much and there was sand in every crevice of his body, but he was four beers deep and feeling too good to care.

Robin and Demetrius had kids in their twenties, only a year or two younger than Ava, but they were both off on different parts of the beach with their friends. “I’ll introduce you later,” Robin had promised, and then it was time for the tasting. Ava and Eli lingered in the back of the crowd, listening to Lewis extoll the Governor’s praises while they eyed the soup, which had taken on a greenish cast.

“I’m not eating that,” Ava whispered.

“Me either.” Eli nodded at Robin and Demetrius’s backs, just to see her expression. “Too bad they’re not on the menu.”

Ava popped him one in the shoulder, cheeks blotchy and red between her freckles.

“They’re gonna hear you!” she hissed.

Eli knew he was being an asshole, but that was part and parcel of your best friend and your sibling being rolled into one: pushing each other’s buttons like nobody else. “You’re the one who called her a MILF.” He nudged her shoulder. “Hey, maybe they swing. You never know.”

“Dude, shut up.”

The Governor pronounced the soup pleasant, with much fanfare and posing for the camera, and everyone clapped politely and murmured congratulations to one another. Lewis looked like he might faint with relief. It was odd, Eli thought, but nice. You couldn’t do anything like that in the city. But as it turned out, Robin was right – once the Governor had departed and the leftover soup distributed and set aside for later, the chant of “Clambake! Clambake!” swept across the shore, and the real fun began.

The firepit was repurposed and set up with cinderblocks at the corners, and Eli and Ava helped Robin layer seaweed between the corn, potatoes and clams on their corner of the pit. Her daughter Maru showed up not long after to help out; she had her mom’s easy smile and her dad’s no-nonsense mannerisms, and her friend Penny was quiet and sweet with big doe eyes, hovering around Maru’s heels. Half the town was crowded around the pit, talking over each other while they waited for everything to cook, smoke billowing towards the sky. It was chaos, but the good kind, like Zuzu City when it came alive at night but gentler. Ava got up and came back a minute later, toting the six-pack.

“We found this in the fridge,” she explained, plopping down between Eli and Maru with the cardboard holder in her lap. “I don’t know if they’re any good, but – “

“Is that the Big Man’s homebrew?” Robin asked, craning her neck around her daughter to get a better look. “Pass two of those this way, quick. Before anyone notices.”

“Sure.” Ava handed two of them to Maru, who passed them along. “You’ve had this stuff before?”

“Absolutely,” Demetrius said as Robin handed one to him. “Your grandpa brewed some of the best beer this valley’s ever seen. Give it a try if you haven’t already.”

Eli snagged one, and Ava offered one to Maru, who politely declined before excusing herself. Penny had already disappeared, quietly as she’d come. Eli had a split second to wonder about it before the simultaneous crack and fizzle of bottles being opened drew his attention elsewhere. Robin cleared her throat.

“To Herb.”

“To Herb,” Demetrius echoed. “He was a good man.”

“To Pops.”

“To Pops.” The necks of all four bottles clinked, and they drank deeply. Eli wasn’t much of a beer drinker – he didn’t like to do things halfway, getting drunk included – but this was different. This was summer in a bottle, fruit and honey and sunshine spices thick on his tongue. He finished half the bottle in one go, gasping a little as the carbonation tickled his nose.

“Holy shit, that’s good.”

“Yeah, wow,” Ava said. She’d already finished hers, and was eyeing one of the remaining bottles. “You weren’t kidding.”

“I never kid,” Demetrius said. Eli couldn’t tell whether or not he was joking.

It hadn’t been long before food was ready, and there was salt and melted butter to go around, passed from hand to hand around the pit. Everything tasted smoky and briny like the sea, and Eli ate and ate, licking his fingers clean between bites. He was full now, and warm, and someone else had brought more beer to share; the fire was welcome now that the sun was going down, and the cooling breeze kissed his cheeks. A blond kid he didn’t know had whipped out a guitar and had half the beach singing a song he’d never heard, nightingales cooing along from nearby treetops. Robin and Demetrius danced a little way away, kicking up sand and laughing like a couple half their age, and to his right, Ava had become heavily engrossed in conversation with a blue-haired woman. Something about auras, from the sound of it. Nobody noticed when he extricated himself from the circle, brushing sand from the creases in his shorts while he stumbled towards the bridge leading back to town. It was starting to get dark, the sky freckled with stars, but the bridge was lit by the same old-fashioned lampposts on either end. Here, it was cool, the noise from the beach so much crashing surf in the background, and he leaned against the low stone wall and ran his hands through his hair.

“I really do think this will be good for you, Eli,” Janice had said at their last session, two weeks before the move. “We’ve been talking about reducing the frequency of your sessions for a while now. Think of it as a test run.” Janice had been Eli’s therapist for the last five years. She wore cat’s-eye glasses and sensible cardigans no matter the weather, and she took no one’s shit, Eli’s included. He adored her.

“What if I can’t do it?” he’d asked, shifting on her overstuffed brown couch. “What if I get there and everything goes straight to hell?”

“Then at least you tried, and I’m only two hours away,” she reminded him with a smile. “If you need to make an emergency appointment, you can. I’ll still be here when you get back either way.”

It’s only a year.

A tendril of anxiety snaked in, piercing the his beer-fueled glow. This was how it always went. Any time things seemed like they were going well, there it was, tapping him on the shoulder and whispering that things were going a little too well, didn’t he think?

He brushed it aside firmly. No. It’s nice here. Everyone’s nice. It’s going to be fine.

A deep bark snapped him out of his reverie, and he looked to his left just in time to see a huge, shaggy brown dog hurtling towards the bridge, leash whipping behind it. He had about two seconds to process what was happening before heavy paws on his chest nearly knocked him flat, and the dog tried to climb all over him, panting happily in his ear.

“Hey, whoa there,” he laughed, narrowly avoiding dog tongue in his mouth. “You’re cute, but I don’t kiss on the first date.”

“Dusty!” someone yelled, exasperated. The dog dropped obediently to all fours, tail wagging so fast it looked liable to burst into flame, and circled Eli’s legs, barking at the figure jogging towards them. Dusty’s owner, Eli presumed. He was tall and broad-shouldered, wearing a Zuzu Tunneller’s t-shirt and jeans, and when he got closer, the lamplight shone on green eyes and a strong jaw, both set firm with annoyance. “Damnit, Dusty – sorry, man.” He grabbed the leash, wrapping it around his hand, and Dusty barked again, trying to lick Eli’s knee. “He likes meeting new people.”

“Hey, me too.” Eli wasn’t exactly short, but he found himself having to tilt his chin up to make eye contact. A pang of envy echoed in his chest. “It’s not as socially acceptable for me to lick them, though.”

The guy made a noise like he wasn’t sure whether or not to laugh. “Uh… sure. Good luck with that.” He gave Dusty’s lead a tug. “C’mon, boy. We gotta go.”

“I don’t actually lick people!” Eli called after him, suddenly embarrassed, but both man and dog kept walking without a backwards glance. He slumped back against the bridge, jamming his hands deep in his pockets. Smooth, dude. Real smooth. Still, as far as first impressions went, only flubbing one wasn’t bad. He just needed to keep focusing on the positive.

Cute dog, though.

“Where have you been?” Ava asked when he flopped down next to her in the sand. She’d switched to water while he was gone, and judging by her shoulders and the bridge of her nose, she was going to have a sunburn come morning. Eli didn’t envy her. All he and Mal ever did was tan in the summer. He shrugged.

“Getting some air.”

“We’re outside, dingus.”

“Different air.” People had been leaving as the night wore on, and now it was just them and a few others, scattered in clumps along the beach. He spotted Robin and Demetrius sitting at the water’s edge, her head on his shoulder as the waves lapped at their bare feet. “They look like Mom and Dad, don’t they? All disgustingly happy and in love.”

“I know. It’s adorable.” Ava looked at him, and he looked back. She had her knees hugged to her chest, the hem of her dress fluttering against the sand. Shadows played across her face, hazel eyes unusually serious in the firelight. “What do you think so far?”

“Of them, or the town?”

“The town.”

“Everything seems good so far. Why?”

Ava’s gaze drifted to where the moon hung soft and full over the ocean, wreathed in stars. From where they were sitting, it stippled the whole thing silver, like diamonds scattered on black glass.

“I think I’m gonna like it here,” she said.

*

It was late by the time they left the beach, but the moonlight was bright enough to see by, dirt roads and surrounding fields cast in stark relief as they stumbled home with their arms around each other’s shoulders. Mal was asleep on the couch when they came in, giggling and trying to hush one another; an old copy of The Land Before Time whirred the in the VCR. He didn’t budge, even when Ava turned the TV off, so they left him to his dreams and took turns showering off the grime of the day’s events. Midnight found them sprawled on Ava’s bed in their pajamas like they used to do when they were younger, whispering secrets to one another in the dark.

“I can’t believe you were the one who sold Josie Russo and Daniel Dieter that bag of oregano,” Eli said, face buried in the pillow to muffle his laughter. “They talked about how high they got at Cory’s cousin’s party for like a month!”

“Daniel started that rumor about you, and Josie used to cheat off of me in Algebra. Mild humiliation was the least I could do.” Ava rolled onto her back, hugging her pillow to her chest. “I don’t miss high school.”

“Me either, but that’s not exactly a secret.”

“Yeah.” Ava paused, and her expression shifted in something somber. “This was Dad’s childhood room, I think. I told Mal he could have the master bedroom because I didn’t want to sleep where Pops died. Is that weird?”

“It’d be weirder if you did,” Eli said, and they both smothered a few guilty snickers. Ava looked over at him.

“Your turn.”

Once, when pressed, Eli had told her that the reason he quit sharing secrets with her was because he didn’t want anyone to know the nameless, brutal conflict raging inside him once puberty hit. That he was afraid of what he might say if he let his guard down for even a second. That was true, but it wasn’t the truth – there were some things he couldn’t share with her no matter how badly he might want to. He could feel them pressing against his teeth now, like birds trying to break free of a cage. But this wasn’t the time, and he swallowed it all down with a silent apology, digging for something else to fill the empty space between them.

“I’m afraid we won’t be able to keep this up for a whole year.”

“Me too.” Ava’s voice was starting to soften, slurring around the edges. “I really missed spending time with you like this.”

“Me too.” He reached out, took her hand. “It’s like… with everything that’s been going on for the last few years, everything else just kinda fell by the wayside. I’m sorry.”

“Nah, I get it.” Her eyes fluttered closed. “You, me, Mal… we all kinda fell by the wayside for a while.”

“I wish it was like when we were kids still, sometimes. When it was easier, y’know? It was all just… easier.”

“Yeah.” She squeezed his hand. “It was.”

That was how they fell asleep – stretched gracelessly on top of the covers with wet hair and their fingers tangled together. But in the space between dreaming and waking, after Ava had dozed off and Eli was almost there, he told the house the secret he’d been keeping. Old houses know all about secrets. Their walls have no tongues, but they have ears. It listened without judgment, without reproach or shame; it had heard worse in the four decades since Herbert Lyndon built it to win the love of a woman who could never really be his. It took his secret into itself, and there it would stay, between the two of them and the stars.

Chapter 2: Two

Notes:

Content warning in the end notes.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Remind me why I’m doing this again?”

“It’s called strength-training, Hales. And it’s because you love me.”

“When I said we should hang out more, this isn’t what I meant.”

Alex took a deep, sucking breath through his nose and didn’t answer her. The garden was in full bloom this year, lush waterfalls of color pouring from their planters and pollen swimming through the air. The best one in town, his grandma’s garden. Way better than whatever was going on in Lewis’s front yard. And sure, he could have worked out inside or up at the spa, but he liked being in the yard, surrounded by the flowers she loved so much. It kept him focused on his ultimate goal, even when his muscles burned and his chest ached and he had to sit in an ice bath for half an hour at the end of the day, hating himself and the rest of the world: try out for the Tunnellers, go pro, take care of Grandma and Gramps for the rest of their lives.

(Try out for the Tunnellers four years running now, the metal bleachers unforgiving against the backs of his thighs, sweat burning where it dripped in his eyes – “Better luck next time, kid.”)

“You’re so sweaty,” Haley complained from where she was perched cross-legged on his back, waiting for him to finish his last set of push-ups. She was texting someone, acrylic nails clicking away on the keypad. “Are you almost done?”

He grunted. “What time is it?”

“Just after one.”

“Shit. Okay, get off. I gotta go.”

“Gladly.” Haley climbed off, stuffing her phone into the pocket of her shorts. Even in the heat, she looked perfect, but that was just Haley. She put in a lot of effort to look effortlessly beautiful, and when you cut to the heart of the matter, that was why they got along – like Alex, she knew it was easier to focus on the surface. If people liked something on the outside, they usually forgot to look at the rest. “I’m going to wait in the kitchen.”

There wasn’t enough time to take a real shower, so he rinsed off with the garden hose and ducked inside to find a clean shirt. Back downstairs, Haley had made herself comfortable at the table, scrolling through some app on her phone, and his grandma smiled at him when he came through the door.

“There you are.” She was in the middle of stuffing their old picnic basket to the brim, a container of fruit salad by her elbow. Jars of jam and pickled produce were nestled inside, a plastic container of cookies at their center. Alex came over and kissed the top of her head, one hand on her shoulder. Her bones felt impossibly light these days, almost hollow. Sometimes he was afraid he’d lose her to the wind when the summer storms came through.

“I gotta run, Grandma. Haley too. I’ll be back for dinner.”

“Ah, ah, ah.” She tutted at him and put the fruit salad in the basket, shutting the lid. Checkered blue-and-white cloth peeked out from both sides. “First, I need you to take this to the new farmers.”

“Have you met them?” Haley asked, perking up. Alex gave her a look – he really didn't need to get sucked into town gossip when he was already in a hurry – but his grandma just shook her head.

“Not yet, but Lewis has. He says they’re good people.” She reached up and patted Alex’s hand. “Good thing they showed up when they did, too… shame to let such a lovely piece of land go to waste.”

“Yeah, great. Can it wait? I’m gonna be late to open the stand.”

“It’ll keep for a little while longer.”

“But – “

“Alexander Travis Mullner,” she said, and his mouth snapped shut on reflex. “When we get new neighbors, we make them feel welcome. That’s the Pelican Town tradition. Now, all I’m asking is for you to take a few minutes out of your day to be kind. Can you do that for me?”

“Fine, alright,” he muttered, feeling about two inches tall. She hadn’t used his full name in years. “I’ll take it over.”

“Thank you, dear.” She looked over at Haley, serene once more. “Would you mind going with him? I just made fresh bread, too, but there’s no more room in the basket.”

“Of course, Granny,” Haley said, smiling sweetly at Alex. He gave her the finger as soon as his grandma’s back was turned.

*

The farm was on the outskirts of town, in the opposite direction from where he usually set up his stand for the day, and Alex sulked the entire way there, Haley trotting along at his heels.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” she said. “You don't have to like, hang out with them. Just drop it off and go.”

Alex grunted. He didn’t really think Haley had room to talk, considering she picked fights with Emily over splitting chores every other week, but he wasn’t about to open his mouth and say so. One of the women in his life being pissed at him was enough.

It wasn’t the prospect of hanging out with the farmers. It was his grandma’s words sitting in his chest like a hot coal, shame and anger burning him up bit by bit. She didn’t need to talk to him like he was stupid. He already knew he was dumb. He’d heard it plenty growing up, everywhere he turned: his dad, his classmates, even his teachers when they reached the end of their rope. He didn’t need it from her too. And as much as it all sucked, that was the part that sucked the most – being just smart enough to know how dumb he really was.

“Hey.” Haley touched his arm, fingers damp and unbearably warm. They were both sweating. The sun beat down overhead, round and orange as a tangerine. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He moved his arm away and picked up the pace. She pouted, but quit trying to talk to him after that. They turned onto the dirt road leading out of town in silence.

The closer they got, the worse the farm looked, wood sagging in all directions like it was melting and fields creeping up towards the road. Whiskey Creek, the sign said. He resisted the urge to kick it.

The dirt and gravel path led up to the sprawling ranch-style house, its porch populated with faded patio furniture and scattered shoes. Alex was going to suggest they leave everything next to the lawn chair and turn around, but Haley marched up to the front door and knocked, bread basket swinging from the crook of her arm. They waited, Alex lingering behind her on the steps, but no one came.

“Maybe they’re not home.”

“Maybe.”

She knocked again. Still no answer. She’d just raised her hand to try one last time when someone yanked the door open.

Alex recoiled. He didn’t mean to, but the guy standing there looked like the “Before” photo in a plastic surgery infomercial he’d seen once, and Haley’s audible gasp didn’t help. From the shoulders down, he looked normal, dressed in a plain t-shirt and jeans. From the shoulders up –

“What?” the guy asked, deep voice tight with annoyance. Scars fractured his face like cracks in a mirror, some cobweb-fine and others thicker and knotted. One long pink line cut across the corner of his mouth and disappeared past his chin, pulling his expression into a permanent sneer. The only thing left untouched were his eyes, cool and grey with long black lashes framing them. Almost too pretty to belong to a guy, let alone this guy. Alex cleared his throat, determined to ignore the weird, sick knot in his gut even as it pulled tighter.

“Hey, so, uh… you’re new here. Right?”

Great start, genius.

“Take a guess.” The guy folded his arms. “What do you want?”

“We’re your neighbors,” Haley interrupted, and Alex decided he was grateful that she’d come along after all, if it meant he didn’t have to talk. “I’m Haley, and this is Alex. His grandma wanted us to bring you a welcome gift.” She held out her basket, smile plastered on her glossy lips. “Pelican Town tradition.”

“Leave ‘em on the porch,” the guy said, and slammed the door shut.

Haley’s jaw dropped. Alex had never seen anyone’s jaw drop in real life before. “Jerk!”

“Seriously.” Under any other circumstance, he would have been pissed. He was pissed that he was even in this situation to begin with. But more than anything, he just wanted to get out of there. “Can we go now?”

Haley ignored him and knocked again, harder this time. She kept doing it until the guy yanked the door open, screen door banging on its hinges and his lips peeled back from his teeth in a snarl.

“Why are you still here?”

“Why are you being so rude?”

Right for the jugular, as usual. Haley didn’t really do subtle. The guy’s expression remained unchanged, the sneer on his lips tugging them grotesquely to the side.

“I don’t like surprise visitors.”

“Well, out here, we don’t like people with no manners.” She thrust the basket into his hands, her own lip curled. “Find some.”

Those too-pretty eyes narrowed, but before the guy could say anything, a second voice came from over his shoulder.

“What’s going on?”

The girl who appeared in the doorway was around their age, tall and sturdy, with a shock of wild pink hair spilling over her shoulders. Her bare feet poked from beneath some ruffled, off-the-shoulder hippie dress, toenails painted navy. Silver rings glittered in her nose and eyebrows, and her bare arms were covered with tattoos, a kaleidoscope of color against her pale skin. She took one look at Haley’s furious expression and Alex’s clenched jaw and rounded on the guy next to her, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt.

“I swear to – can you act like a normal human being for five seconds? Please?” The guy’s scowl deepened, but he kept quiet. The girl switched on a smile in their direction, all sunshine and apologies. The contrast was jarring. “Excuse us. One sec.”

She dragged the guy inside and shut the door. There was a lot of muffled, furious whispering – Alex couldn’t hear most of it, even with the open windows, but he did catch something that sounded like ‘out to get you’ and ‘looking at me’. He and Haley exchanged uneasy glances. At that moment, he would have given anything to be somewhere else, but his feet were frozen to the splintered porch slats. Then, there was silence, and the door opened, the girl smiling like nothing was wrong.

“Sorry about my brother. He’s not great with people he doesn’t know.” The way she said it made Alex think she’d had plenty of practice. “I’m Ava. Are those for us?”

Alex muscled his way past Haley and practically threw the basket at her. He knew it wasn’t her fault, but he needed to leave, and every passing second on their farm was making him feel worse.

“Here,” he said, and stepped off the porch. He didn’t bother waiting for Haley. She’d follow him like she always did, but right then, all he wanted was to be alone.

 *

His grandma thought he hated Herb Lyndon the same way he hated Gus and Pam and living next door to the Stardrop – because the Big Man’s whiskey was his dad’s drink of choice, because the Stardrop was the only place in town to go, because everyone knew what went on and kept serving him anyway. Alex didn’t bother correcting her. It wasn’t like it mattered now that Herb was dead and his dad was gone, and he didn’t really want to talk about it either way, but that wasn’t the real reason.

He’d hated Herb because out of all of them, Herb was the one who had finally snapped. Herb was the one who’d marched into the Saloon one night, six-foot-five-inches and three hundred pounds of rage, and beat the ever-loving shit out of Alex’s dad in front of half of Pelican Town. Threatened to kill him if he laid a hand on his wife or son again, from what Alex had been told. He hadn’t seen it, though part of him wished he had. It might have been something to hold onto in the days that followed.

As soon as he recovered, his dad skipped town, but not before he put Alex’s mom in the clinic and broke three of Alex’s ribs. He didn’t remember much from that night. Just a searing pain in his side, each breath like a knife, and his dad’s breath, hot and sour on his cheek.

This is the Big Man’s fault. Remember that.

Alex had hated his dad, for what he did to both of them, but he’d loved him too. Love wasn’t like a light switch – he couldn’t just flip it off for the bad parts. And then his mom got sick, and he kind of blamed Herb for that too, even though he knew it wasn’t right. He just needed a place to put the anger chewing a hole inside of him. Even now, years later, he couldn’t quite let it go. He thought maybe Herb knew, too, and that was why he’d stopped looking Alex in the eye. Then again, so had a lot of people.

Herb died last winter. Alex never tried to ask him about that night. He didn’t go to the funeral. The whole town turned out, plus a bunch of people Alex had never met before, and their tears flooded the valley like the river after the rain. Alex laid in bed and listened to them weep while he stared out the window at the saloon, wishing it would all burn. Maybe he was more like his dad than he’d thought.

 *

The last thing he felt like doing was opening the stand, but it was getting close to three, which meant that Penny would be walking Jas and Vincent home soon, and she liked to treat them when she could afford it. Sometimes Alex pretended he was having a contest, and he’d give them free ice cream if they answered whatever dumb math problem he could come up with off the top of his head. It was never hard, so they always won, and he liked that it made Penny smile. He thought maybe they should have been friends – even though Pam wasn’t as bad as his dad, he knew how it was. But he’d been popular in high school, and she hadn’t, and now they were past that but he still couldn’t think of anything to say to her.

“Can I come over for dinner?” Haley asked, head bent over her phone. He had no idea who she was texting. It wasn’t like she talked to anyone besides him and her sister. “Emily’s on this weird kick where she’s only eating red foods. The house reeks like beet juice and onions.”

“Yeah, sure.” The tubs of ice cream were starting to look soupy, even though the frosted glass. Haley practically lived at his grandparents' house. Sometimes he thought his grandma liked her better than she liked him. Either that, or she was still holding out hope that they’d end up married. He didn’t know which one was worse.

“Hey,” she said, and he glanced at her. “That guy was an ass. But also, a total shut-in? So we’ll probably never see him again.”

Haley wasn’t the best at cheering people up – she was better at it than people gave her credit for, but retail therapy wasn’t really his thing. This time, though, he found himself weirdly comforted by the idea that she was right.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Trust me. That guy probably hasn’t gone outside for more than an hour in years.” She shook her head, blonde waves tumbling down her back. “What do you think happened to his face?”

Alex shrugged, hoping she’d changed the subject. There was a part of him that wanted to feel bad for the guy, or did until he’d opened his mouth, walking around looking like an extra in a bad horror movie. Just thinking about it made his gut twist. But Haley carried on, oblivious.

“Whatever it was, it must have been bad. You don’t think he’s an army vet or something, do you?”

“Who cares?” He leaned against the stand, forearms braced on the cold metal. Even with the umbrella, the sun bit at his back, sweat gathering under his arms. “As far as I’m concerned, he’s just some douchebag with a messed-up face.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” a new voice said. “Is that ice cream?”

Alex and Haley both looked, heads snapping towards the bridge like startled deer. The speaker lifted a hand in greeting. There was something familiar about his crooked grin, but it took Alex a second to place him.

“You’re the guy who doesn’t lick people,” he blurted. The guy in question stared at him for a second, then burst out laughing.

“I’m never going to live that one down, I can already tell.” He looked different than Alex’s hazy sunset recollection, taller and broader, with curly dark hair and a scruffy beard just starting to grow in. He was wearing an old band t-shirt and cargo shorts, which Alex could tell Haley loathed without even looking at her. “It’s Eli, actually. My name.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “You got strawberry?”

“What? Oh. Yeah.” Alex fumbled for a scoop while he slid the cover open. He’d been half-convinced that he hallucinated their meeting the other night; Eli showing up in the middle of the day, flesh and blood as any other man, was just the cherry on the bizarre sundae that was his summer so far. Pink ice cream dribbled down the napkin when he held out the cone, sticking to his fingers. “Five bucks.”

“That’s highway robbery,” Eli said, but he fished out his wallet anyway and slapped a five on the stand. “This ice cream had better be a magical fucking experience.”

“Only one way to find out.” Part of Alex wondered if he should be offended, but Eli’s tone wasn’t mean, and he was still smiling. It felt more like they were old friends giving each other a hard time than anything.

“Wait.” Haley looked between them, brows wrinkled together. “The guy who doesn’t lick people?”

“It’s nothing,” Alex said. “Ran into each other the other night when I was out walking the dog.” He looked away while Eli started in on the cone, because it seemed weird to just stare the guy down while he was trying to eat, but Haley watched, head cocked like Dusty when he heard a squirrel.

“Are you a tourist? We don’t usually get those until the fair.”

“In a sense.” Eli sucked the melted ice cream off his fingers, wiping at them unsuccessfully with the napkin. “Damn. Alright, you got me. This is worth five bucks.”

“Duh,” Alex said, pleased with himself and not really sure why. Haley brightened.

“From Zuzu City?”

“Where else?”

“I love Zuzu. The pink melon cake at Café Saucier is to die for.”

“Yeah, it’s good stuff. I used to busk all over the Gaslamp District when gigs were slow. There are worse things than getting paid in cake.”

Haley clapped her hands together, expression gleeful. “Finally! Someone cool comes to town.” Alex was still stuck wondering what busking was. “I thought for a second that you were one of those Lyndon weirdos.”

Eli paused. “Lyndon weirdos?”

Haley waved the question away, dismissive now that she’d found something more interesting to focus on. “One of the farmers who lived here died last year. His grandkids came to take over his farm, and so far? Not impressed.”

“The guy’s a total prick,” Alex said. Haley might have been over it, but he still felt like punching something whenever he thought about the sign and the door slamming in his face. “And his face is all messed up, too. Hardcore messed up. It’s creepy.”

“The girl seems nice enough, but she dresses like a thrift store reject,” Haley added, twisting strands of hair around her index finger. “Unfortunate, but what can you do?”

“Boy, that is unfortunate,” Eli said, and dropped the remains of his cone on the ground, bits of pink cream mingling with the dirt. 

A prickly feeling crawled up the back of Alex’s neck, a warning sign come a second too late. “Dude, what the hell?”

“Lost my appetite.” There was a definite edge to Eli’s words now, gone from friendly and open to sullen and detached in the space of seconds. His eyes were grey up close, too, some detached part of Alex noted. Soft and clear as morning mist, with long black lashes. Almost too pretty to belong to a guy, really. “I just remembered I have somewhere to be. Catch you later.”

“Hey, wait!” Haley called after him as he walked away, but he ignored her and crossed the bridge, back the way he’d come. She looked back at Alex, somewhere between angry and bewildered, blue eyes wide. “Seriously, what is with everyone today?”

“I think,” Alex said, and he was starting to get that sinking feeling he got sometimes, like there was a riptide in his guts, trying to drag him out to sea even though he was on dry land, “he’s one of them.”

Beneath her tan, Haley went pale. She looked towards the bridge, but Eli was already gone. A bird trilled, scolding from a nearby tree. “Are you messing with me?”

“No, dude, I’m sure. He’s one of them.”

For a second, she wavered, looking out over the town towards the square, where a hunched over figure could be seen growing smaller by the second, but then she pressed her lips together and turned away, nose in the air.

“Whatever. It’s not like it makes anything we said less true.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, and the queasy feeling in his stomach only grew stronger, almost slimy. “It’s not like we were talking about him.”

“Exactly,” Haley said, and went back to typing on her phone. “What a baby.”

The ice cream cart hummed beneath Alex’s palms. The remains of the cone Eli had dropped lay in front of it, broken and covered in grime. It’s not that big of a deal, Alex wanted to tell him, and that made him feel even more pathetic, trying to defend himself to a guy he’d spoken to for a total of five minutes. Your brother was the one who started it, anyway, and there was that feeling of being two inches tall again, hot and sweaty and small. He shoved his hands into his pockets, kicked the side of the cart.

Whatever.

 *

The sky blazed purple and gold, the sun putting up one last fight before it slunk off into darkness to lick its wounds, and when Alex opened the gate, Dusty was on his feet before the chain link fence so much as rattled.

“Hey boy.” He dangled the leash. “Wanna go for a walk?”

Dusty dashed around him in a circle, barking.

Normally they walked by the fields, but Alex was avoiding Whiskey Creek, so they went the other way, down to the beach. Dusty immediately flopped on his belly and rolled around, tail slapping the ground and sending clouds of sand in all directions. Alex let him. It wasn’t like his grandparents allowed Dusty inside, anyway, except during the deep freeze. He found a good-sized stick of driftwood and unclipped the leash, and Dusty pranced in front of him, begging and bouncing until Alex hurled it and both dog and stick flew down the beach. It was a good throw. Still not good enough for the Tunnellers, but better than anyone else on the team, back when he led varsity three years running. Dusty came back, panting around the stick. Alex wrestled it out of his jaws and threw it again, harder this time.

That was the trouble with life; it happened whether you were paying attention or not. He’d been so busy trying to get through one day at a time that when he came up for air, he realized he’d been out of school for five years and still had nothing to show for it. Everything kept on moving around him, and there he was, treading water while he tried to catch up. He was still trying to figure out when you went from “future gridball star” to “washed-up jock”. Was there a hard line you crossed at some point, or was that gradual, too?

“This year,” he told Dusty, who’d flopped at his feet to gnaw on the stick. “Fall tryouts. This is the big one, so we gotta train harder than ever now. You with me?”

Dusty woofed, stick caked in sand and drool.

“Thanks, bud.”

Waves rolled onto the shore, lapping at the sand with white foam tongues. The tide was coming in, the last gasp of sunlight nearly extinguished on the horizon, and for some reason he thought of them again, Eli and his brother with their cool, sea-grey eyes. Their sister’s eyes were different, he realized. Not grey, but hazel, like moss in the forest. She and Eli had the same smile, though. Friendly, until it wasn’t.

He didn’t know why he was thinking about it. About them.

It wasn’t like it mattered.

Notes:

Warning for memories of past physical abuse.

Chapter 3: Three

Chapter Text

Herbert Lyndon’s first love was a selkie.

She wasn’t really a selkie, their dad used to insist whenever Eli and Ava begged him to tell the story of how a seal-woman rescued him from the storm. Herb’s tales tended to mix fact and fiction, and he didn’t need to be telling them to impressionable children for Aurelio to sort out later. Herb would nod solemnly, and as soon as their dad’s back was turned, he’d wink at them and mouth yes she was. That was just how their grandpa was, though – full of stories for every occasion. Mal didn’t care one way or another, but Eli and Ava devoured them like starving animals. Eventually Ava’s interests turned to other things, but Eli’s curiosity remained, even as he grew older and saw his grandpa less and less. The last time they’d seen each other, on Winter’s Star a decade ago, Eli had woken up early and gone out to the kitchen, where he found his grandpa drinking a cup of coffee and watching the snow fall. It was the first, and last, time Pops had come to visit the city.

“I want to know the story,” he’d said, settling into the opposite chair. “The real story.”

He’d been eighteen then, awkward and still unsure of himself, but Pops never treated him that way, never treated him like he was weird or different even though he knew he was. Somewhere in the apartment, the ancient radiator groaned, but cold air slipped through the cracks and grasped at his bare feet. Pops had coughed a little, then smiled. He’d been on the decline even then, gaunter and paler than he’d been the last time they’d seen him, but his voice was still as rich as the earth he tilled.

“Her name was Cora,” he said.

They met the summer after Herb graduated high school, working on a fishing boat that ran a three-month route between Ferngill and the Gotoro Empire (well before the war, he added). Cora was half-Gotoran and the most experienced one of the bunch, five years his senior. He’d taken one look at her, with her sea-glass eyes and hair so black it was almost blue, cleaning an albacore like it was second nature, and that was that. Love snuck up and gutted him, same as the fish. He never even saw it coming.

“We worked together on that boat for three years before I found out what she was.” Pops resettled in his chair, wood creaking beneath his bulk. “I’d already asked her to marry me once, but she turned me down. In hindsight, I should have left her be, but your first love has a way of making you crazy.” He glanced at Eli. “You ever been in love?”

Eli shook his head.

“Good. Being young already makes you reckless. No need to add love into the mix.” Pops drank more of his coffee. “Anyway. It gets lonely out there, on the ocean for months on end… most folks ended up sharing beds more often than not. Helps keep you sane. But I’ve always been a light sleeper, and some nights, I’d wake up to find Cora gone. She’d always come back before morning, so most nights, I let her be. But on this particular night, a storm was brewing…”

Eli had heard this part before – how his grandpa had run up to the deck to find her, only to be swept over the side by the churning waves. How he thought he was going to die at twenty-one, only to be rescued by the biggest, sleekest seal he’d ever encountered before or since, with a blue-black coat and sea-glass eyes. How in return for saving his life, he promised to keep her secret, since the temptation of a selkie’s pelt was often too much for any human to resist.

“I kept her secret,” Pops said, his mouth unsmiling now and his eyes faraway. “I wish that was all I’d done. Yoba, if I don’t wish for that every day.”

The cold air snatched at Eli’s feet again, and he tucked them up on his chair, shivering. “What… what did you do?”

Pops sighed, and in that one sound, there was forty years of regret.

“I kept her sealskin, too.”

*

Parrot cries lingered in Eli’s dreams like perfumed smoke, jeweled green feathers filling his vision, and then he was awake, sunlight spilling into the living room. The screeching and whistling continued, and it took him a second to realize that it was coming from outside. He scrambled upright and threw the curtains the rest of the way open.

“Oh, good,” Ava said as she shuffled into the room, coffee in hand. “They followed you here.”

“Huh,” Eli said, and laughed.

For him, there was never been a time before the parrots. His mom had told him the story countless times – how the day he was born, all the birds disappeared from the city. Nothing in the trees, nothing in the sky, and how all the people walked around feeling like they were missing something, even though they couldn’t place what was different. But on the third day, the birds returned. It wasn’t gradual, the way the news had predicted. It was all at once, a feathery patchwork quilt descending to cover the city, and it was more. A barn owl tried to get in through the fire escape and sent their mom’s old Siamese cat Lola into conniptions; albatross and macaws lit on lampposts while vultures circled the park and red-tailed hawks strutted along the boardwalk like seagulls. Mostly, though, it was the parrots. Scores of them flocked to the city to nest in the palm trees, and their cries could be heard from Citrus Heights all the way to the South Side. Things more or less settled after a few days, but the parrots stayed, and soon they were a common sight – palm trees full of iridescent green birds, whistling and gossiping up and down the block like the old women who played bridge after church. As he’d grown up, the parrots had followed Eli from home to his first apartment and beyond; he was almost surprised they hadn’t shown up sooner. He whistled, a little three-note jaunt, and the trees outside the window exploded into cheerful cries and flapping wings. Like a little piece of home.

“Don’t encourage them,” Ava groaned. “Yoba, I forgot how loud they are.”

“You’ll get used to them again. Is there any more coffee?”

“Sorry, dude. You know me ‘n Mal need at least two cups each to function.” She prodded his ankle with her slipper-clad foot. “C’mon, get up. It’s already seven, and we have a ton of shit to do.”

Eli grimaced. Truth be told, he wasn’t looking forward to any of it. Debris and weeds needed to be cleared from the yard to the broken-down greenhouse on the other side of the property, and the old orchard needed tending, though Demetrius had done some testing and assured them that it was still viable; with a little love and care, they’d have apples and pomegranates to harvest come fall. Then there was the overgrown cornfield that needed to be watered and cut back along with the rest of the garden, and the path to the well that needed to be reclaimed from the wild grass that had taken it hostage, all without counting the cleaning and unpacking that needed to be done before Robin came to set up their Internet. “Ugh, fine. I’m up.”

He splashed some water on his face, got dressed, and plodded into the kitchen to find Mal brewing a fresh pot of coffee, murder in his eyes as parrots frolicked in the trees crowding the front yard.

“Can’t you make them go away? Or at least shut up?”

“You know I can’t.” Eli started rummaging around the cupboard for a clean mug, reaching past cloudy glasses and chipped plates. Before he could unearth one, somebody knocked. Neither of them moved to answer it, confused, and a second knock came, more insistent this time. Mal went for the door, but Eli beat him to it.

“Good morning,” the man on the porch said, leaning against their doorway, and Eli took a step back as a wave of cheap cologne hit him. “The Lyndons, correct? So good to finally meet you.”

“And you must be the rep from Joja,” Mal said from over Eli’s shoulder. He said ‘Joja’ the way most people would say diarrhea, or triple homicide. The man kept smiling like he didn’t notice.

“Morris Marston. I’m the representative for Joja in this town, yes.” He held out a hand for Eli to shake, which he did, albeit reluctantly. Even in the heat, he was wearing all black, save for the jaunty red bow tie at his throat. Eli had to wonder how he stood it. “Now that you’ve had a chance to settle in, I thought we could go over the stipulations of your grandfather’s will one final time.” His smile widened. At Eli’s back, Mal tensed. “We’re very invested in making sure everything is above board and running smoothly around here.”

“Sorry, but today isn’t a good day for us.” Eli held Morris’s gaze while he sipped his coffee, willing himself not to blink. “Farm’s not gonna run itself.”

Morris kept smiling, but there was a distinct plastic sheen to it now. “Of course.”

Might as well get this over with. “We’d be happy to come to Joja-Mart later this week and discuss it, though.”

“Wednesday, perhaps?”

“Wednesday should be fine.”

Morris’s composure never once wavered. “Excellent. I’ll be in touch.”

All three of them watched him leave through the kitchen windows until his black-clad frame was swallowed by the road, and Ava wrinkled her nose. “We already went over the will with the Joja reps back in Zuzu. Why do we need to do it again?”

“He’s just waving his dick around,” Mal said, pouring himself another cup of coffee. “Making sure we know they’re waiting to pounce the second we fuck up.”

“What a creep.”

“I’m gonna be choking on his cologne for the rest of the day, too.” Eli rinsed out his empty cup and set it in the sink. “Alright, who’s doing what?”

“Unpacking boxes,” Ava said immediately.

Mal pointed out the window. “Garden’s mine.”

Eli made a face at both of them. “Fine. I’ll go clear a path to the greenhouse, but I’m not doing the whole property myself. It’s my turn to do the easy shit tomorrow.”

“Quit whining,” Mal said. “Tools are in the shed out back.”

*

After five years on the fishing boat, Herb came home and brought Cora with him. Pelican Town was on the coast, still close to the sea, he reasoned. Surely she could be happy there. He had the deed to the old family farm, his last month’s paycheck in his pocket, and the clothes on his back. He was young enough to think that he didn’t need anything else, just the plans in his head and his own two hands, as long as he had the woman he loved by his side.

“I’m going to build you a new house,” he told her as they stood on the edge of the property, wooden structures sunk into disrepair and overgrown grass choking the road. “A beautiful house. One as beautiful as you deserve.”

Cora looked at him, dust on her dress and her expression weary.

“I can’t love you the way you want me to,” she said. “I don’t belong here.”

Herb built her a house anyway. It took a year and a day. He put it together piece by piece and tried not think about the haunted look in her eyes as she stood on the renovated porch, staring straight out to sea.

*

The parrots sang out with their long, whooping cries as Eli trudged along the path, pushing Pop’s rusty old wheelbarrow in front of him. He’d only been at it for a couple of hours and he already wanted to die. Less than a year since Pops passed, and the farm had been consumed by a thorny, overgrown mess, in defiance of anyone who might try to lay claim to it. Stones and fallen branches tripped him with every other step, hollow logs blocked the path at some points altogether, and waist-high sawgrass scratched his bare arms and legs whenever he swung the scythe to clear it. The greenhouse sat in the distance, taunting him. It hadn’t seemed so far away when he’d first gotten started, but now it might as well have been on the other side of town for all the progress he was making. He tossed the scythe back in the wheelbarrow and scrubbed the sweat off his face with the hem of his shirt. The parrots chattered at him from the treetops.

What the hell are we even doing here?

It was a fair question. They were city-dwellers, born and raised; it was only the guilt of not seeing their grandfather again before he passed that made Eli agree when Ava first proposed the idea.

“Come on,” she’d said, voice tinny on the other end of the speaker. It was the first time she’d called him in six months. They used to talk every day. He still wasn’t sure when that had stopped being the case. “The farm was all Pops had. We can’t just let it get turned into a Joja-Mart warehouse.”

“Well, yeah, but we don’t know anything about farming.”

“We can learn.” He’d hesitated, and she must have sensed that she had him, because her voice went all soft and pleading the way it did when they were kids and she was convincing him to do something he was sure he was going to regret. Sometimes he had, sometimes he hadn’t. “It’s only for a year.”

A year was feeling pretty long right about then, so Eli sat on one of the logs for a minute to catch his breath, forearms braced against his thighs. If nothing else, the view was worth it – even though there was still plenty of work to be done, Whiskey Creek had a kind of wild beauty the city could only dream of. He thought about Pops standing where he now stood decades earlier, surveying the land and seeing the promise in it. He must have struggled at first. He must have had to learn too, the same way they were learning now.

Eli got to his feet and wiped his sweaty hands on his shorts, taking a deep breath. A second log blocked his path, and he fished the axe out of the wheelbarrow, steeling himself. One thing at a time.

After that, it seemed easier, the grass more cooperative, though he couldn’t say for sure if it actually was. But little by little he carved out a path, and mid-afternoon found him surveying the remains of the greenhouse, wheelbarrow resting against a boulder. Most of the glass had been shattered, leaving only a steel frame that had been warped in spots, half-melted by some great heat. Fire, if he had to guess, or maybe lightning. Robin had mentioned that Pelican Town was home to intense thunderstorms in the summer. Ivy and vines had gained a bitter stranglehold on the structure, twisting to cover every spare inch of metal, while lush plants he didn’t recognize spilled out of the empty doorframe and crawled up the path. He picked his way through the foliage and ducked inside, to where a couple of oak trees had fused with a maple to form a canopy, blocking out the worst of the sun. Poppies and spangles grew wild all over in the shade, sprouting up in bursts of red and purple and gold against the cool green stillness; the air smelled rich, like loam and dirt and honey-thick pollen. Eli sneezed.

A glint of silver caught his eye. It was an empty Joja Cola can, crushed and left to languish near the roots of the biggest oak, along with a couple of cigarette butts and the remains of what was definitely a joint. Eli picked it up and sniffed at it, then coughed. Ditchweed, gross. Not that he could blame them, whoever they were. He doubted Pelican Town had much to offer in the way of quality pot. He carried the trash out to the wheelbarrow, and it was then that Ava came jogging up the path, sunburnt and waving. A metal pail swung from her free hand.

“Hey, you actually did it!”

“Yeah, as it turns out, I’m not a total wuss. Surprise.”

“Don’t get your boxers in a bunch. Look!” She held out the bucket, half-full of dusky red berries the size of cherry tomatoes, plump and fragrant. He hadn’t realized until that moment how hungry he was, until his mouth started watering at the sight.

“Are those spice berries?” One of the valley’s native fruits, they grew in the dirt instead of on bushes or vines, and only in the summer. Eli had never tasted anything like them, before or since. Ava nodded eagerly.

“Mal found them while he was weeding the garden. There’s a whole other bucket back at the house.” She picked one out and handed it to him, bouncing a little on her toes. “I was thinking about digging up Pops’ old recipe book and trying to make some pies or jam or something. Dad said it should be in the basement somewhere. You in?”

Eli bit into the berry, and there it was, sweetness and heat all at once. He closed his eyes and swallowed, throat burning. “Yeah. Why not?”

*

Sunset came, and while Ava was showering and Mal was doing the dishes, Eli retrieved his guitar and took it down to the greenhouse, the parrots whistling dozily after him from their roost. His entire body ached, but he had a freshly-rolled joint in his pocket and a quiet place to smoke it – Mal had forbidden either him or Ava from smoking in the house – and that was enough to keep him moving. The greenhouse was as empty as ever, the sun dipping low over the mountains, and he found a nice spot in the cradle of the oak tree’s roots to watch it fade into twilight, guitar on his lap and joint in hand. Ava would probably be pissed that he didn’t share, but whatever, she could smuggle her own bud down from the city. He dug his lighter out of his pocket, popped the filter in his mouth, and lit up.

There was nothing like that first hit after a dry spell. He inhaled blissfully, lungs burning, and closed his eyes. When he exhaled, he could already feel his thoughts quieting. His fears, his doubts, his lingering anger at Alex and Haley… all fading into the background, where they would sit until he was ready to deal with them head-on.

His face is messed up, dude. Hardcore messed up.

Well. Mostly faded. Eli took another hit, smoke drifting towards the treetops. Yeah, Mal was an asshole most of the time, but he was still family, and they didn’t know him. Had no clue what he’d been through, and on top of that, to insult Ava? Completely uncalled for. Who cared how she dressed? Not that he planned on telling either of them what had been said, but still. I’d like to see Haley tell her that to her face. He stifled a laugh and took a longer drag this time, holding it in until his lungs rebelled. Out of the three of them, Ava had always had the meanest temper, and the longest fuse – it took a lot to get her there, but once it went off, the only thing left to do was get out of the way.

Something sounded in the distance, footsteps and hushed voices, and Eli paused, joint dangling from his lip. Snatches of conversation became clearer as the speakers got closer. The voices weren’t familiar, but there were at least two of them, and he exhaled through his nose and waited. He didn’t have to wait long. A tall, lanky blond came crashing through the brush, laughing at something, only to stumble to a halt over his own feet as soon as he spotted Eli.

“Shit! Uh.” Eli smiled at him, which only flustered him further. “Sorry, we didn’t know anyone else was gonna be here…”

“Sam! What’s the hold-up?”

Two more people, a shorter guy in all black and a girl with purple hair, came into view. Eli waved at them. They froze. There was a moment of tense silence as the three of them regarded him, poised to flee at the first sign of trouble, until he stubbed out the joint and said, “So. You must be the ones who come out here to relax.”

The boys exchanged worried glances, but the girl met his eyes, then looked pointedly at his hand, where the still-smoking joint was clutched between thumb and forefinger. Eli decided he liked her.

“Is that a problem?” the blond guy asked after a second. “Because we can go.”

“Nah, it’s a nice spot. You gonna come in, or just stand there?”

They did come and sit down after a moment, but slowly, eyes darting around like they thought it might be a trap. Eli remained where he was and let them settle, curious to see what they did.

“Are you the new farmer?” the blond kid asked. The girl rolled her eyes.

“Who else would he be?”

“Well, he doesn’t really look like a farmer… no offense, man.”

“None taken. I’m one of them, yeah,” Eli said. “And you are?”

“Sam. That’s Abigail, and that’s Sebastian.” The girl waggled her fingers, and the guy in all black gave him an awkward nod. “Who else is there?”

“My brother and sister. I’m Eli.” He held out the remaining half of the joint, and watched their faces light up. “Wanna help me finish this?”

He hadn’t planned to share originally, but he was in a better mood now, and they kept looking at him like he was seconds away from turning them in to… did Pelican Town even have a police force? Lewis, maybe. At any rate, they definitely believed he wasn’t out to play small town sheriff after that, and fifteen minutes later, Sebastian and Abigail were filling him in on all the local gossip while Sam fiddled around with the guitar.

“Oh, and Shane is new here too, kinda, but don’t try talking to him unless you wanna get your head ripped off. He hates everybody.” Abigail brushed some hair out of her eyes, thinking out loud. “He and his daughter live with Marnie at the ranch. She’s the one you go to if you want animals.”

“I think we need to learn how to run a farm before we start trying to raise animals,” Eli told her. “None of us really know what we’re doing yet.”

“So why did you come here?” Sebastian asked. He’d gotten a lot chattier after a couple of hits, pale face grown pink and animated. “And why all three of you? Seems like a risky business venture if none of you know how to run a farm.”

“Rude,” Abigail admonished.

“Nah, he’s right.” Eli scratched his chin. “When our grandpa died, he left the farm to us, under the condition that all three of us live on it and work the land for a year. If not, the land goes to the highest bidder. Which, in this case, is Joja.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Sam asked after a second.

“Honestly? I don’t know. Pops was always kind of a mystery.” He spread his arms wide, encompassing everything. “But hey. Here we are.”

“Man, fuck Joja.” Sam strummed the guitar strings, a discordant jumble of noise. “Morris is the worst.”

“Sam’s mom made him get a part-time job there,” Sebastian said, ignoring Sam’s glare. “To ‘learn responsibility’.”

“Yeah, like I don’t know she just wants me to hook her up with that sweet, sweet employee discount.”

“So, what are you gonna do when the year’s up?” Abigail asked. Eli shrugged.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, I guess.” And then, because he didn’t really want to keep thinking about it – “So, this is one of those small towns where everyone knows everyone else’s business, right?”

Sebastian pulled a face. “Yeah. Unfortunately.”

“Thought so. Any rumors about the new farmers yet?”

The three of them exchanged glances. Eli waited. He had time.

“Well,” Abigail finally said, caution in her voice. “Haley was in my dad’s store yesterday, talking to Alex’s grandma about how rude one of the Lyndons was to her and Alex.”

Great. Eli groaned internally. “I wasn’t there, but yeah, that sounds right.” Damnit, Mal.

“Is it true that your brother’s face is all jacked up?” Sam blurted. Abigail smacked his shoulder.

“Sam!”

“No, it’s fine… I mean, not that it’s fine, but there’s no use hiding it.” The roots were starting to dig into him. Eli shifted over a little, into the dirt. “Mal was in a bad car accident a few years back. He, uh… doesn’t like it when people stare. Which is always. So you probably won’t see much of him.”

“Oh,” Sam said, quieter now. “Sorry.”

“Ignore Haley,” Abigail put in, after a moment of awkward silence had passed. “All she cares about is appearances. Total stuck-up princess type.”

“Yeah, I picked up on that,” Eli muttered. “What about Alex?”

“Alex? Male version of Haley. Gridball where his brain should be.”

“Kind of a douchebag,” Sam agreed.

“Asshole,” Sebastian said flatly. “You’re better off just avoiding him.”

From the abrupt shift in his tone, Eli was guessing there was more to the story, but he got the impression that it was useless to keep prying. “I’ll keep that in mind.” It really was kind of a shame – they’d seemed like they might be nice when he’d first wandered by the ice cream stand. Sebastian fished a plastic baggie out of his hoodie and unfurled it, lighter in hand. A second joint sat at the bottom.

“Wanna go again?”

 

Darkness had fallen by the time they parted ways, and Eli played his guitar all along the path back to the house, whistling through the long grass with deer and rabbits at his heels. They scattered when he left the field, the final notes of the song bobbing along behind him. Ava looked up from where she was sitting on the porch steps, beer in hand. Gnats and moths buzzed around the porch light, overlaying her curls with a soft orange halo.

“Where have you been?”

“Out. Doing a little exploring.”

“Right.” She sniffed the air as he came closer, eyes narrowing. “I’m going to pretend that’s a skunk, instead of you so obviously holding out on me.”

“Some of the local delinquents have been smoking up in the greenhouse,” Eli informed her, straight-faced. “I rounded them up and herded them off the property after a stern talking-to, as Grandfather would have wanted.”

“You fucking weirdo.” She pointed at him with her free hand, mock-stern, but he could tell she was fighting off a smile. “Next time you smoke with the townies, I want in.”

“Deal.” He plopped down on the steps next to her. “So, I guess people are already talking about what happened the other day.”

“Wow, I’m so surprised,” Ava said, and took a drink. “Yeah, Mal was rude. But to be fair, he said they basically recoiled the second he opened the door, so I don’t know what they expected.”

“Makes sense.” Eli sighed. “I just wish he’d talk to someone. Or us, even. Something.”

“Me too, but…” She shrugged. “What can we do?”

“Yeah.” Eli glanced over his shoulder to where the kitchen window sat shadowed and empty, curtains half-drawn. “I guess.”

“However,” Ava said, drawing his attention back her way. “Alex’s grandma, Evelyn? The one who gave us that nice welcome basket full of goodies? I thought I’d drop in tomorrow and return the favor.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Maybe while Alex is home? It’d be rude not to offer him anything.”

“You,” Eli said, “are evil. And possibly a genius.”

“It’s like Mom always says. If you can’t beat ‘em, make ‘em as uncomfortable as possible with passive-aggressive social niceties.” She reached over and plucked one of the guitar strings, low note ringing out. “You think Evelyn likes pie?”

*

When Herb showed Cora the finished house, polished and painted and built with her in mind, she burst into tears. He put his arm around her shoulders and she kept right on crying, tears running down her face and turning the grass yellow and brown wherever they landed. They blistered the earth, and he knew then that no matter what lies he told himself, nothing could grow where there was only saltwater. Not this far from the sea. The next day, he took her down to the docks and gave back her pelt, as beautiful as it ever was, and then it was his turn to weep for all the wrong he’d done her. Cora donned her skin, smiling for the first time in years.

“And just like that, she was gone and I was alone,” Pops said. Eli was shocked to see him weeping now, tears trickling down his weathered cheeks to make tracks in his beard. “I was so scared to lose her, and like a fool, I ended up driving her away.”

Eli didn’t know what to say, so he climbed out of his chair and gave his grandpa a hug instead of words. Eventually, the tears dried up, and Pops gave his shoulder a shaky pat before letting him go.

“Love don’t make you feel like you own someone, y’know. That’s being young and selfish. Don’t get the two mixed up.” He sighed and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, dabbing at his face. “I just thank Yoba that I knew the difference by the time I met your grandma and your daddy.”

“Is that why he didn’t want you telling us the story?” Eli asked after a second.

“Probably didn’t want you to think less of me. Or didn’t think you were ready to hear it.” Pops laughed a little. “He’s a good man, Aurelio. Always been proud to claim him, even if we ain’t blood. Wish he would have stayed sometimes, but I understand why he didn’t. Reminds him too much of Dolores.”

Eli had seen how his dad got sometimes after looking at old photos or telling him them stories. How he’d put on old music from the valley, or sit and stare out the window at nothing until Eli’s mom came home from work to pull him out of himself and lead him to bed. How he cried sometimes, when he thought nobody was looking.

“I think he misses it too,” he said.

Chapter 4: Four

Chapter Text

“These damn birds,” Alex's grandpa complained, chair wheels rattling along on the cobblestones. A parrot whistled at them from the roof of the clinic. “Never seen anything like it.”

Alex held the door open for him and didn’t say anything. His mom loved birds. She would have loved the parrots like she loved summer and all the flowers that bloomed in the valley, and then he had to quit thinking about his mom, because he didn’t want to be sick all over Doc Harvey’s freshly-cleaned floors.

“Hi Mr. Mullner! Hi Alex,” Maru chirped from behind the front desk. “The doctor will see you in just a second.” She didn’t seem put off by either of their muttered greetings, but then again, she never seemed rattled by anything. Alex wondered if she could teach him how to do that. Probably not. None of his other teachers had been able to make anything stick.

Harvey came out after a minute to take his grandpa back, and Alex sat in the waiting room, staring at the posters hanging on the wall across from him. A motivational sunset hung front and center, next to instructions for proper handwashing and an advertisement for some Joja-brand drug with a bunch of small print at the bottom that made his head hurt, even at a distance. Standard doctor crap. Alex hated doctors, hospitals, and everything to do with them – the florescent lights, the sterile whites and pale greens, the way disinfectant lingered in his nose for the rest of the day, smelling like bad memories. His grandpa hated doctors too, and the only reason he went to his check-up every year was the same reason Alex went with him: so Alex’s grandma wouldn’t worry.

He bounced his leg, wished he’d brought something to keep his hands busy. There was nothing to distract him but the posters and the rapid clacking of Maru’s fingers on the keyboard while she typed. What was she even doing? The clinic wasn’t that busy, Harvey saw maybe one patient a week. The typing slowed, and he realized he’d been caught staring, Maru’s face expectant. He smiled awkwardly and looked away, slouching down in his chair. The typing resumed its former pace.

Harvey opened the door an eternity later, and Alex jumped to his feet when his grandpa came rolling out, chair motor humming. Literally sprang up out of his seat, he wanted to leave so bad, and Harvey gave him a puzzled look before turning back to Alex’s grandpa.

“I’ll bring over that refill myself, as soon as it gets here.” He smiled and fiddled with the fringe of his mustache, shoulders stooped inward. Harvey always looked nervous, even when he was happy. “In the meantime, remember what we talked about, okay? I’ll see you for your next check-up in six weeks.”

Alex’s grandpa grunted and aimed his chair towards the front door. Alex went to open it for him, avoiding Harvey’s eyes.

“Oh, Alex! Don’t forget your annual physical next week,” Maru called after him, and he heard her clicking around on the computer again. “Ten AM Thursday, okay?”

“Sure, yeah,” he called back, knowing full well he was going to skip it – it wasn’t like he needed to go to the doctor, he worked out every day and never got sick – and then his grandpa was through the door and they were finally free.

“Doctors,” his grandpa spat, steering his chair towards the house. “I don’t need a fancy piece of paper to know what’s good for me.”

Alex nodded.

“I’ve been alive three times as long as he’s been a doctor.”

“I know, Grandpa.”

The day was already humid, even this early in the morning, and Alex was looking forward to relaxing, or at least, his definition of relaxing – a quick workout at the spa, then sunbathing with Haley while he continued avoiding all the things in his head that were better left alone. And then he walked into his kitchen and Eli’s sister was sitting at his table, laughing with his grandma. A pair of empty plates and a pie with two slices cut out of it sat between them, next to a pitcher of lemonade.

“Oh, you’re back!” His grandma beamed. “Look, George! This sweet young lady brought us a pie.”

“And corn,” Eli’s sister chimed in, motioning to the wicker basket on the counter. Alex couldn’t remember her name. Corn overflowed, bright yellow kernels peeking from sun-bleached husks. She smiled at Alex, and it made his heart beat faster, but not in a good way. “We just wanted to thank you for that welcome basket you sent us.”

“How lovely,” his grandma said, charmed as anything. Alex bit his tongue hard enough to hurt.

“What kind of pie?” George yelled from the living room. The television clicked on, muffled in the background.

“Spice berry,” Evelyn called back, and picked up the pie cutter. “I’ll bring you a piece.”

No sooner had she shuffled out of the kitchen than Eli’s sister hopped to her feet, brushing her hands off on her skirt. Alex stood his ground as she came forward, smile still firmly in place, and hoped he didn’t look as freaked out as he felt.

“I know I introduced myself the other day, but you left so fast that you probably don’t remember.” She stuck out her hand. Her fingernails were as pink as her hair, the polish chipping off in spots. “I’m Ava.”

Alex stared at her. He realized too late that he’d let the silence lapse, but his tongue felt like it was glued down, unable to move. Ava’s smile faded a little, and she dropped her hand.

“Look, I’m sorry about Mal. He can be a dick sometimes.” She paused. “A lot of the time.”

“Yeah, well.” Alex shoved his hands in his pockets. He didn’t have a follow-up.  

“But you gotta understand,” Ava went on, raking cotton-candy curls off her face. “I mean, how would you feel if everyone stared at you like you were some kind of sideshow attraction?” Alex had a pretty good idea of what that felt like, if not for exactly the same reasons, but she held up her hand before he could even open his mouth. “Look. You don’t have to like him, or me, but gossiping about his scars? That has to stop.”

“Tell him not to be a dick and no one will care,” Alex said, even though he knew it was a lie. Ava clearly did too, judging by her expression, but his grandma came back before she could say anything. She paused when she caught sight of their faces, hovering in the doorway.

“Is something the matter?”

“No, Grandma. Everything’s fine.” Alex brushed past Ava to get at the fridge, cool air soothing his face. They were out of milk again.

“It’s all good,” Ava said, cheery again. “I do have to get going, though. We still have tons of unpacking to do.”

“Of course, dear. And please, do stop by again, we’d love to have you around for dinner...”

His grandma insisted on walking her to the door, the two of them chatting about canning season come fall, and Alex took the opportunity to escape to his room, water bottle in hand. Listening to them talk was making his chest hurt, and yeah, it was fucking dumb but he didn’t like the idea of coming home to find Herb’s grandkids getting all chummy with what was left of his family. At least it had been her instead of Eli, or Yoba forbid, Mal. He cracked the seal on the bottle and chugged half of it in one go, plastic crinkling in his hand. Who’d told her she could do that, anyway? Sit at his kitchen table and laugh with his grandma a week after she moved there, so friendly, so comfortable? He’d lived in Pelican Town his entire life and he wasn’t that comfortable.

His room was too hot, soaking in the sun with the curtains open. When he cracked the window, a faint breeze rolled in, briny from the ocean. He dug his phone out of his pocket and unlocked the screen. He only had two contacts saved – his grandparent’s landline, and Haley, her contact photo permanently set to a sunflower. The messenger app popped up when he clicked her name, cursor blinking.

You busy?

The reply came back almost instantly. Skype call w the parents in an hour! Maybe later??

Right. The Hoffman’s monthly check-in. Always on a Wednesday, always from a different island or province. Last he’d heard, they were in Cerrin, headed for the Kestrel Islands via cruise ship. Alex turned the screen off and shoved his phone back into his pocket. Part of him wanted to lay in bed and avoid talking to anyone for the rest of the day, but there was no way that was happening. Not with how restless he was right then, liable to jitter right out of his skin if he held still too long. Dusty’s familiar bark sounded from the backyard, and Alex stuck his head out the window to see him leap unsuccessfully at a squirrel as it bounded over the fence.

“Alex!” His grandma’s voice came through the window. “Have you taken him for a walk today?”

Dusty’s ears pricked up.

“I’m on it!” He opened his door and went back downstairs to grab the leash, relieved. A distraction was a distraction.

*

The parrots had taken up residence in Cindersap Forest, too, their plumage mingling with the trees like living greenery. Alex did his best to ignore them. Dusty was in heaven, meandering from bush to stump to investigate a new smell every few seconds, and Alex almost envied him for a minute; being a dog seemed like a pretty sweet deal right then. Less complicated, anyway. At least it was cooler beneath the trees, and peaceful, river running soft and sunlight dappling the forest floor through the leaves. Peaceful and a little boring, just like everything else in the valley.

They wandered past Leah’s cabin, where Leah herself sat on the riverbank, bare feet dangling in the water. A giant pad of paper sat across her lap, covered in charcoal sketches. She was so absorbed in her work that she didn’t notice them, which was fine with Alex. She’d been there for at least a year and they’d never exchanged more than a handful of words. It wasn’t that she intimidated him or anything, he just didn’t know how to talk to artsy types like her and Elliott. He assumed they thought they were better than him for knowing how to make fancy lines on a page, which was bullshit. If they were any good at it, they wouldn’t be living in Pelican Town.

He figured a couple of laps around the lake would be enough to wear himself out, or at least shut his brain off for a while. They made it as far as the dock before Dusty froze, sniffing the air furiously. Alex sniffed too, but he didn’t smell anything.

“What’s up, boy?”

Dusty let out a single bark, deep and joyous. It sent birds scattering every which way, and the leash went flying out of Alex’s hand.

“Hey!” He made a grab for it, but Dusty was already dashing back the way they’d come, a mad blur of black and brown against the green. Alex swore and chased after him, but he was no match for a dog that determined, and Dusty had a head start; he was already on the northern path, past the paddocks surrounding Marnie’s ranch. “Get back here!”

But Dusty was gone, over the hill past the ranch, and there was nothing Alex could do but follow and hope he caught up, wondering what the hell was going on. Dusty was rambunctious, sure, and he had a tendency to chew on the furniture, but he’d never taken off like that before. As soon as Alex crested the hill, he spotted a furry figure in the distance, tearing through the green-gold cornfields as it made a beeline for Whiskey Creek. He swore again and ran down the slope, because of course that was where Dusty wanted to go, instead of literally anywhere else in Pelican Town.

The farm was a lot farther away than it looked from the top of the hill. Alex ran laps around the town a few times a week, but he usually left Whiskey Creek out of the rotation. Sweat drenched him from head to toe by the time he reached the sign, which was definitely just from the heat and not because it felt like someone had twisted his stomach and bladder into a balloon animal. That would have been dumb. He paced by the fence for a minute, hoping Dusty might hear him whistling and come back, but the field remained quiet, a faint breeze stirring the long grass. A whiff of something familiar and savory caught his attention, drifting from the direction of the farmhouse; when he sniffed again, the scent of charred meat obliterated any hope of Dusty returning on his own.

Well, that was fine. Just fine. It wasn’t like he was scared of them.

The front yard was empty, so he trudged around the side of the house to find Mal and Ava out back, a set of ancient patio furniture arranged around a firepit and a grill parked next to the porch. Ava lay draped across one of the lawn chairs, purple-tinted sunglasses hiding half her face and a dog-eared paperback in hand while Mal manned the grill. Dusty lay at his feet, gnawing on the mangled remains of a steak. Eli was nowhere to be seen.

“Huh,” Mal said. He didn’t look upset, exactly, but it was hard to tell with the scars pulling his mouth to one side. A burger patty hit the grill with a sizzle. “Guess that settles that.”

“Settles what?” Alex asked, trying to sound casual. It came off more like he had something stuck in his throat. Dusty picked that moment to roll over and look at Mal adoringly, his belly on display. Traitor.

“We were wondering whose dog he was,” Ava said, still engrossed in her book. “What’s his name?”

“Uh… Dusty,” said Alex, who had officially moved from ‘on edge’ to ‘weirded out’. Neither of them seemed bothered by his presence, which was one thing, but watching Mal crouch down to rub Dusty’s belly, looking almost happy, was like stepping into the Twilight Zone. “We were out for a walk and I guess he smelled you guys grilling. I can take him if he’s bothering you.”

“Nah, he’s alright,” Mal said, and Dusty’s tail thumped all over the place, sending up little puffs of dust. First his grandma, now Dusty; if they won over Haley (or worse, his grandpa), he was going to… do something. He didn’t know what yet, but it wouldn’t be good.

“It’s no big deal,” Ava said. She might have been looking at him, but it was hard to tell with the glasses. “We have extras. Care package from home.”

“Your parents sent you steaks?”

The screen door behind him banged open. He flinched.

“Bunch of other shit, too,” Eli said, and came down the steps, dragging a cooler behind him. “What’s up, man?”

“Just looking for my dog.”

Eli nodded. “Cool.” He was wearing cutoffs and a shirt that said ‘World’s Best Grandpa’ in big block letters, which kind of made Alex snort without meaning to. Ava crossed one leg over the other and turned the page. Alex hadn’t noticed before, but she was wearing another long hippie skirt, complete with a tank-top that had a cat wearing a flower crown printed across the chest. Her earrings were plastic pieces of sushi. Alex kind of wished Haley was there; she would have thrown a fit over both of their outfits. Mal was the only one of them that was dressed normally, which lent to the surreal atmosphere of the whole thing – his t-shirt and jeans were the kind that looked plain, but actually had a brand name slapped on the label and cost half a grand plus tax. Eli parked the cooler next to the firepit and flopped down in the lawn chair next to Ava’s, groaning.

“My back is killing me. I’m never leaving this spot again.”

“Not even for food?”

“Debatable.”

“If you don’t want your burger, I can give it to the dog,” Mal said, straightening up to check on their dinner. “Or whatshisface.”

“Alex,” Eli said, before Alex had a chance to be offended. “What, you can’t walk five steps to bring your little brother a burger?”

“You can’t walk five steps to get it yourself?”

Eli threw one arm dramatically across his eyes, which might have been more convincing if he hadn’t been fighting off a grin at the same time. “My own flesh and blood want me to die of starvation. Heartless bastards.”

“Tough shit,” Mal said, and dumped his burger on a plate. “Come get your food.”

“Fine, fine.” Eli turned his attention back to Alex, who had started to wonder how much longer he was going to have to stand there before they remembered he existed, like the world’s most uncomfortable lawn gnome. “Hey, you wanna stay for dinner?”

“What,” Alex said.

“What?” Mal echoed.

“Why not? You’re already here, and we got plenty to go around. You like burgers or steak?”

“That, and Mal’s in love with your dog,” Ava added. “I don’t think you’re gonna be getting him back for a while, so you might as well stick around.”

Mal glared at her but didn’t say anything, even with Dusty drooling all over his shoes, and really, what was Alex supposed to say to any of this? Sure, let’s have dinner, like their previous interactions had never happened and this entire situation hadn’t been pulled straight out of Bizarro World? He wiped his forehead with the back of his arm, stalling, and Eli leaned over and flipped the lid on the cooler. Long-necked bottles poked out from a sea of crushed ice, and the bottom of Alex’s stomach fell out and landed somewhere around his ankles. Eli grabbed one and held it out, looking concerned. The beer dripped innocently in his outstretched hand.

“Dude, you’re sweating all over the place. Want one? It’ll cool you down.”

“Dusty,” Alex said, throat tight, and Dusty must have picked up on his tone, because he rolled onto his feet and came padding over to nose Alex’s hand, leash dragging behind him. Alex bent down and scooped it up, and now the silence had taken on a distinctly different flavor, Ava and Mal exchanging looks while Eli blinked at him, taken aback.

“If you don’t like beer, I can get you some water or something…”

“No, it’s… it’s cool. It’s whatever.” Alex gave the lead a tug, and Dusty followed, even as he stared longingly towards the grill. “I gotta go.”

“Okay,” Eli said, sounding more confused than ever, and Alex turned around and left the way he’d come, Dusty trotting along at his heels. He forced himself to walk normally. They already knew something was up, he didn’t need to make it worse. He still felt like throwing up. Their voices mingled together in the background – probably whispering about what a loser he was, like they had any room to talk.

“Dumb dog,” he muttered, and stepped onto the long road back to town. “No more steak. ‘s bad for you.”

Dusty barked, tail wagging.

*

A cold shower followed the remainder of their run, and Alex passed out on top of his covers soon after, too exhausted and unhappy to do anything else. He jolted awake shortly past midnight to something pelting his window, sky outside pitch black and mouth feeling like someone had sandpapered his tongue. For a minute he wasn’t sure where he was, and then another handful of gravel rained against his windowpane and it all came flooding back. The wooden frame creaked when he opened it, and for once, he was grateful neither of his grandparents could hear very well.

“What?”

“I’ve been trying to wake you up for like ten minutes,” Haley stage-whispered from the garden, face round and pale in the moonlight. “Come let me in.”

“Hold on.”

He yanked on a t-shirt and the nearest pair of shorts, then crept downstairs, avoiding the squeaky step third from the bottom. They used to do this in high school a lot, him and Haley. They’d sneak into each other’s rooms long after everyone else fell asleep so they could talk, or if it was really bad, lay there and watch shitty movies on Haley’s laptop without saying a word. Pretty much everyone had thought they were dating. Alex figured he should have wanted to date her, but what they had seemed more important than that, even if he hadn’t been able to explain it at the time. All the guys on his gridball team would have called him a fag if they’d known how many times he’d slept in her bed and nothing had happened, but it was Haley. She was the only person besides his mom and grandparents who’d seen him cry, the only other person who went with him to his mom’s grave year after year. He wasn’t going to risk losing that if things didn’t work out between them. He opened the front door and let her in. Neither of them spoke until they were safely back in his room.

“I don’t think my parents are coming home,” she said.

Part of Alex wanted to be mean – gee, what’s that like, Hales? Tell me all about it – but then he looked at her, sitting on his bed with no make-up and her hair greasy and unwashed, knees drawn up to her chest, and the words went cold on his tongue.

“Sorry.” She sniffled. “I didn’t know what else to do. I can’t talk to Emily about it.”

The mattress dipped under his weight when he sat down. “Why not?”

“Ugh. She’s so… optimistic! All the time, about everything!” She buried her face against her knees, shoulders hunched up tight. “She never wants to talk about anything bad and it makes me want to scream.”

Alex didn’t know what to say. He’d been too busy being relieved that he was an only child to wonder if he would have liked having a brother or sister, and Haley and Emily weren’t exactly a ringing endorsement. He thought about the Lyndons for a second, and his stomach started hurting, so he quit thinking about them and gave Haley a tentative pat on the back.

“They’ve been gone for almost two years,” she said, voice muffled, and sniffled again. “I mean, when do we accept that they’re just not coming back? How much longer do we have to – “

She broke off suddenly, sitting up straight like something had zapped her, and her hand went to her mouth as she looked at Alex, eyes huge. He stared back, alarmed.

“Oh, Yoba,” she whispered. “It’s the fifteenth, isn’t it?”

The sick feeling came surging back, stronger than ever. “Don’t,” he warned her, but too late, she touched his cheek and his eyes started to prickle, hot and ugly.

“I’m sorry."

The genuine remorse in her voice was what pushed him over the edge; Haley never apologized to most people, and only rarely to him. “I forgot it was today.”

“Stop,” he croaked, but it was definitely too late, and then he was crying, big gulping sobs where no sound came out. He ended up on his side, pillow soaked and Haley curled up at his back, which was completely humiliating but also kind of nice at the same time, even though it made him think of his mom and that got him started all over again. He'd been planning on visiting her grave later in the week; they rarely went on the anniversary itself. He was never in the right state of mind, and he knew it made him weak, he knew it, but he just... couldn't. So he laid there and cried instead, Haley snuggled close and silent until he was done. Crying in general was the fucking worst. It left him all gross and weak and wrung out like a used tissue, but Haley’s fingers were in his hair, petting him, and it felt too good to stop her, so he just laid there and stared at nothing for a while, their breathing mingled.

“You want me to stay?” she asked after a minute, scooting closer. “I don’t really want to go home.”

“Sure.” He scrubbed his eyes roughly with the back of his hand, taking a deep breath. “Not worried about my grandparents anymore?”

“Please.” She scoffed against the back of his neck. “Your grandma’s been dropping hints since ninth grade. If she found me in here, she’d probably throw a party.”

It wasn’t all that funny, but Alex managed a watery laugh anyway. “Yeah, probably.”

Moonbeams came through the window behind them and spilled all over his carpet, shifting with the shadows, and suddenly he was homesick in a way he hadn’t been in years, longing for something that had never really existed in the first place.

“I miss her so much,” he said, and Haley’s hand snuck into his and held on tight.

“I know,” she said, “I know you do,” and then there was nothing left for either of them to say.

Chapter 5: Five

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

He’d tried, hadn’t he? He'd really fucking tried.

“Dude, you gotta understand,” Ava had groaned while they were setting up the lawn chairs the previous night, her earrings bouncing every time she moved. “The whole time I was there, his grandma kept talking about how he’s such a nice boy, and it was so nice to have more young people livening up the community. What was I supposed to say? ‘Sorry, but your grandson seems like kind of a jackass’?”

“Yes,” Mal said as he dragged the grill out of the shed, and Ava stopped what she was doing long enough to point at him, shaking her head.

“Nuh-uh. You don’t get to talk about bad behavior, Malachi. This is as much your fault as anyone’s.” Mal had grunted and gone back inside to get their dinner from where it was defrosting in the sink, and she’d grabbed the last chair and looked over at Eli with big puppy dog eyes. “All I’m saying is that this is a town where everyone knows everything, and maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give the guy a second chance? I don’t want things to be this weird when we’ve only been here for like a week.”

“Fine,” Eli had said. “I can be civil. No promises about Mr. Sunshine in there, though.”

“I heard that!”

And they had done their best to be civil, hadn’t they? Even Mal.  When Dusty showed up, Eli had taken it for a flash of serendipity. A chance to smooth things over, if only for his sister’s sake. Maybe Alex wouldn’t be so bad when he was off the defensive. But then he’d stood in their yard like a startled deer, one wrong move from fleeing the scene, and when Eli had offered him a beer, things only went from bad to worse. It was like he’d offered the guy a severed head.  Although, according to Haley, he might as well have.

An hour ago, he’d been minding his own business, checking out the bulletin board in front of the general store. Robin had told him that it was the place to look if he needed to make some spare cash; people frequently posted notices about odd jobs they needed done for anyone to pick up. He was sifting through week-old ads for peach jelly and sink repair when a voice pierced the silence.

“Hey you! Farm boy!”

“Uh,” Eli said. Haley was stalking towards him, her delicate features twisted up in a snarl, and it wasn’t funny but a gust of nervous laughter escaped him anyway. “You know I’m from the city, right?”

“Well, right now you live on a farm, and you smell like a farm, so that makes you a farmer, farm boy.” She jabbed a perfectly-manicured nail at his face, blue eyes blazing. “We need to talk, now.”

“Jeez, okay, chill! What did I do?”

“Come on,” she snapped, and all but dragged him up past the general store and clinic and out of the town square. She was the same height as him, and she walked fast. He was forced into a trot to keep up with her, stumbling over his own feet until they reached a little clearing at the top of a gentle slope, a fountain burbling peacefully at its center. Eli’s attention was drawn to an old brick building further down the path, overgrown and abandoned, but then Haley snapped her fingers in front of his face and he forgot all about it in his irritation.

“Seriously, what the hell is your – “

“Alex’s dad was a drunk,” Haley said, and Eli’s mouth snapped shut of its own accord. “A horrible, shitty, alcoholic asshole.” He could tell she didn’t curse often, the words foreign and clunky on her tongue, and still she spat them out, hands balled into fists at her sides. “He… you weren’t there, okay? You don’t – “ She broke off, breathing deep. “You don’t know.

“You’re right.” Eli shoved his hands into his pockets, heat creeping up the back of his neck. “I don’t.”

“Well, now you do.” And just like that, she was the haughty small-town princess again, looking down her perfect nose at him with her blonde curls in charming disarray. “I guess nobody warned you.”

“Yeah, that might have been good to know earlier.”

“Whatever. Just don’t offer him alcohol.”

“It’s not like I did it to spite him,” he said, defensive now, and Haley’s eyes narrowed, calculating. The day was warm, but he could have sworn he felt the temperature drop ten degrees. “I wouldn’t do something like that.”

“Better not, Farm Boy. Because if you do, you’ll wish you’d never come to Pelican Town.”

“Little late for that,” he muttered, and left her there, her eyes burning holes in his back.

 

So.

An hour ago, he’d been minding his own business, and then Haley had come along and ruined it. It wasn’t like he’d known. How could he have known, if no one had told him? He wasn’t an asshole. It had been an honest mistake, and he had no reason to feel guilty. None of which explained why he was hanging around the ice cream stand, waiting for Alex to show up.

It was a long wait. He ended up sitting on the ground next to the cart, playing a game on his phone to pass the time and wondering if it would really be so bad to just avoid going into town for the next year. His battery was starting to die when he happened to look up and saw Alex standing on the bridge, expression closed off and wary. The phone beeped, low battery indicator flashing, and Eli shoved it back into his pocket and stood, brushing dirt off his shorts.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Alex echoed. He was wearing a gridball t-shirt and shorts combo again – seriously, how much Tunnellers merch did one guy need? – and it looked like he’d gotten a haircut. Just another effortlessly masculine, good-looking country boy, the big jock superstar, like every guy in high school who’d knotted up Eli’s guts with a combination of lust and envy for four years running. “What do you want?”

Eli ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair, steeled himself. “I came to say sorry about the other day. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have offered you that drink. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Great,” Alex said, and the bitterness in his voice took Eli aback. “Haley told you, huh?”

“Yeah.” There didn’t seem to be much point to lying.

“It’s not her business to tell.”

“Never said it was.” Eli shifted his weight and scratched the back of his calf with his toes, where he could already feel a mosquito bite forming. Summer was the worst. “Look, man, I’m not trying to pry. I just wanted to apologize. It clearly bothered you, and I don’t make a habit of being an asshole on purpose. That’s all.”

Alex didn’t say anything. Eli hadn’t really expected him to. He turned, figuring he’d go hide out in the library for a while – Alex didn’t really strike him as the kind of guy who spent a lot of time in libraries – but he only made it about two steps before Alex cleared his throat and said, “Wait.”

Eli glanced back at him. He was looking away now, towards the beach, but his ears were a little red and he didn’t look upset anymore. Just reluctant. “I, uh… sorry. You know. About the stuff I said about your brother.” The flush spread from his ears to the bridge of his nose. “He was a dick, but I was kind of a dick too, so… you can tell him I’m sorry.”

As apologies went, Eli had heard better. But it was also more than he’d anticipated, and something about the visible effort it had taken for Alex to offer it in the first place plucked at his heartstrings. He really didn’t want to think about why.

“It’s cool. Now get Haley to apologize for calling my sister a thrift store reject, and we’ll be even.”

Alex laughed at that. “Good luck, dude. Haley doesn’t really do apologies.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised.” The conversation was about to fizzle, Eli could tell, and he didn’t want to deal with the awkward silence that threatened to follow either. He nodded and stuck his hands in his pockets again, so he couldn’t fidget. “Anyway, I should probably get going. I just came to say sorry. Clear the air. Y’know.”

“Cool,” Alex said, looking relieved. “Catch you later, man.”

“Yeah.” He kicked a loose pebble, watching it skitter towards the bridge. “See you around.”

*

The rest of the week drifted by in an uneventful haze. Robin came to install Internet access, apologizing for the wait; a pipe had burst in Joja-Mart’s back room, and she was the only person within fifty miles who had a clue how to fix it. Eli couldn’t help feeling like it was a personal slight on Joja’s part. With the way Morris had been salivating over their grandpa’s will, he was surprised the man hadn’t tried to smother all three of them in their sleep. Yet.

“You should be all set,” Robin said, accepting the glass of water he’d fetched for her while she finished up. “Just give it half an hour now that I’ve reinstalled everything.”

“Thank you again,” Ava said. She’d popped in from weeding the garden to say hi, and was caked from head to toe in soil and grime. “Seriously. You’ve done so much for us.”

“Please, don’t even mention it. Happy to help.” Robin smiled at them, eyes crinkling. If it weren’t for the faint crow’s feet at the corners and the silver hairs threading her ponytail, Eli wouldn’t have believed she had two kids in their twenties. “How are you all getting along, anyway? Making friends?”

Ava nodded, and Eli made a non-committal noise. He was pretty sure ‘we smoke pot with your son and his friends in my grandpa’s greenhouse’ wasn’t the answer she was looking for.

“Yeah, we’re good. It’s all good.”

He kept thinking about Alex. Not all the time, but every now and again, when he was exhausted after a long day of yardwork, or clearing debris from the field, or trying to install new sprinklers, or any of the other endless chores that went hand-in-hand with running a farm. Alex’s dad was a drunk, and clearly no longer in the picture, but what about his mom? Did he even have a mom? It was none of his business, he knew, but that didn’t stop him from wondering. After a few more days of fruitless speculation, he broke down and asked someone.

“What happened to Alex’s parents?”

Sebastian was quiet for a long moment, puffing away at the joint. When he handed it back and exhaled, a thin grey ribbon of smoke twisted skyward. “Why do you want to know?”

It was just the two of them that evening – Sam was stuck at home watching Vincent while Jodi and Caroline roped Abigail into a girl’s night down at the Saloon, and Ava was on the phone with their parents, chatting excitedly about their first couple weeks in the valley. Eli had snuck out the back before they could trap him in an hour-long conversation too. He shrugged.

“I offered him a beer the other day. Didn’t go over so hot.”

“No shit,” Sebastian said. “Someone finally told you, huh?”

“Yeah, Haley chewed me out afterwards, so I’d kinda like to avoid any other potential landmines. Thought maybe you could help.”

The joint had burnt down to a scorched nub, and Sebastian took one last drag before stubbing out on a rock. “His mom died when we were thirteen.” His voice was so soft Eli had to lean in to hear him. “I remember because he was gone for most of the year. When he came back, everybody acted like nothing was different. It was fucking weird.”

Eli sat with that for a minute, saddened and inexplicably guilty. That kind of loss was beyond what he could grasp. Losing his grandpa was one thing, but the thought of losing his mom was another entirely. A horrible thought occurred to him. “His mom. It wasn’t… because of his dad, right?”

“No, she got sick. His dad ran out on them the year before that. I think.” Sebastian dug out a crumpled pack of smokes and stuck one in his mouth. The other, he offered to Eli, who declined. His lighter clicked on, too loud in the impending quiet of night. “But if anyone asks, I didn’t tell you that. I don’t need my ass kicked.”

“Do I look like a snitch? Nah dude. You’re good. Thanks.”

Sebastian just nodded, and they sat together under the massive oak for a while long, watching stars emerge from a deepening purple sky. It was nice, hanging out with someone who understood the value of a comfortable silence. Who didn’t constantly expect him to talk, or to entertain them. Sebastian exhaled through his nose, smoke wreathing his hair like a dingy halo.

“My turn to ask you something.”

“Go for it.”

He pointed up to where a score of parrots nested in the branches, heads tucked beneath their wings as they slept. “What’s with all the birds?”

 

They parted ways when the moon was full, Sebastian headed for the mountain and Eli back to the house. Clouds drifted across its waxy face, shadows shifting beneath his feet. He thought about Alex again, and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

To: Mama Bear

Will call this weekend.

I love you.

*

Three weeks in, and Eli tentatively decided they could be proud. For a bunch of clueless city dwellers, they’d done a lot to turn the place around. Paths had been cleared and a brand-new sprinkler system set up while they beat back the insistent growth of grass and fallen branches – it seemed like even the rocks were multiplying some days, which couldn’t be right – and both the flower garden and their ever-expanding field of crops continued to thrive. He and Ava were working to clear the greenhouse of any remaining debris, to see if the structure itself could be salvaged, and he’d even tilled a little plot out back to try growing something of his own. Nothing fancy, just some tomatoes and melons, but the burst of pride he got when he saw those first tender, pale shoots emerging from the earth was immense. He’d even stuck to watering them by hand, it felt so good to watch them grow. Ava had her eye on the blueberry bushes near the hedge, promising all sorts of preserves and baked goods once they were ripe, and Mal…

Well, he had no idea what Mal was doing, but it involved a lot of time in the basement.

He hadn’t run into Alex or Haley since their apology and confrontation, respectively, apart from one or two encounters while he was in town. Haley mostly ignored him, which was fine, while Alex had given him a nod and a casual what’s up, bro?, the way people asked when they didn’t really care about the answer. It annoyed him more than it should have. It wasn’t like he’d expected them to become friends, or anything. It wasn’t like they had much in common. Still, he found himself glancing towards the ice cream stand whenever he came out of the general store or the library, straining his ears to catch pieces of their conversations. He wondered what they talked about. Being incredibly good-looking, probably.

The heat was bad on this particular day, humidity clinging like a second skin, and Eli sat on the porch in a tank-top and cut-offs, tuning his guitar. That was another he liked about staying there, carrying on their grandpa’s work – with a sprawling piece of property this big, he could forgo the binder and no one would ever know. He could see any visitors coming long before they reached his front door. He whistled, giving the guitar an experimental strum, and a chorus of answering notes burst from the treetops. He grinned. It felt good to play again. To sing without his chest being constricted, his binder doing its best to fuck up his breathing. As soon as he saved up enough for top surgery, he was burning the damn thing.

Ava had been gone for the last couple of hours, having headed into town to do some shopping and check out the Saloon, and it was in her absence that he realized he hadn’t seen Mal for almost a full twenty-four hours. Not that this was unusual, but seeing how they were all living together again, he felt like he ought to be more concerned. He set the guitar back in its case and wandered inside, snagging a water bottle from the fridge. The basement door stood next to the kitchen, brass doorknob dull and frame wobbly. Eli stared at it while he drank, trying to ignore the warning cramp of anxiety in his gut. He’d hated the basement as a kid, on the rare occasion they’d come to visit – all his memories were of a rickety stairwell descending into a pitch-black void, strange humming and bubbling noises echoing from its depths.

(“A witch lives down there,” a younger version of Mal whispered in his ear, hands clamped on Eli’s shoulders. “That noise is her cauldron, and if Grandpa leaves the door open at night, she’ll sneak out and get you…”)

He yanked the door open. Light from the stairwell clashed with the sunlit hallway. The bubbling sound was back, though fainter than he remembered. He frowned and poked his head through the doorway, foot braced at the top of the steps.

“Mal! You down here?”

“Yeah,” came the reply, tinged with impatience. “What’s up?”

“What are you even doing?” Now that everything was illuminated, it looked like any other basement, stairs solid beneath his feet, and Eli felt stupid for the lingering fear. “You’ve been hiding down here all – woah.”

Mal looked at him as he came to a halt at the bottom of the steps. “All woah?”

“All week. What is this stuff?”

“Pops’ brewing set-up.” Mal stood up from where he’d been crouched in the corner, shucking his gloves and reaching for his thermos. He looked tired, eyes bloodshot and stubble coming in on his jaw, but his movements were sure. “I’ve been doing some reading and getting all the equipment cleaned up, and I think it should be good to go once I’m done sanitizing the fermentation vessels.”

“I only understood about half of that, but it sounds cool.” Eli took a quick look around, impressed by the sheer size of it. Metal tubs, steel cylinders, and pressure gages made it look more like a laboratory than a farmer’s basement, stretching from one end of the room to the other. They were flanked by rows of casks three rows high on either wall, wood discolored and worn smooth with age, and several shelves lined with empty bottles. “Gonna try to make beer?”

“That’s the plan. Maybe some wine, too. I haven’t tried opening the casks yet.”

“You don’t drink, though.”

Mal shrugged, looking vaguely irritated. “Don’t have to drink it to brew it.” Eli had to concede that this was true. “Besides, I figure this was how Pops made money during the winter, and we’re going to need income once whatever we grow during fall is gone.”

Another good point. Eli had assumed that they were going to have to scrape by with whatever they earned from their final harvest, and felt like an idiot for the third time in five minutes. He hadn’t seen Mal this interested in anything since the accident, and there he was, opening his mouth without thinking and ruining it. As usual.

“No, you’re right. This is awesome. Seriously. I was just surprised.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looked around again. “Can I help? Like, do you need anything?”

Now it was Mal’s turn to look surprised – at least, Eli thought he did. He was hard to read even at the best of times.

“Yeah, actually. I was going to order some hops from a greenhouse in Zuzu and have them shipped down here, but if you went up to get them, it’d be faster. And cheaper.”

“No problem,” Eli lied cheerfully. “I have to go up there on Saturday, anyway. They haven’t sent my prescriptions to the clinic here yet.” He’d been planning on taking the bus, and the plants would mean he’d have to find a different method of transportation, but he’d figure it out. For the first time in years, it felt like he was talking to his brother again, not some stranger wearing him like a bad costume, and he was going to milk the moment for all it was worth. “Just tell me when and where.”

“I’ll put in the order for Saturday, then.” Mal put his gloves back on and picked up the container at his feet, then paused. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

He looked away, but not before Eli caught the beginnings of a smile. “Thanks.”

*

The rest of the afternoon crawled by, shadows growing long, and Eli sprawled on the porch, playing guitar while he waited. The parrots jostled for space on the roof with sparrows and starlings, squirrels peering at him from the trees; down below, rabbits emerged from their warrens and crept into the field. Even a pair of deer wandered up to the fence to listen, momentarily entranced.

People tended to be affected by his music, Eli had found over the years, but no one more so than children and animals. He’d had to stop busking in some of Zuzu’s more upscale districts after being asked to leave one too many times, a pack of stray cats and dogs at his heels and kids bursting into tears whenever he put a sad song into the rotation. At least on the South Side, nobody cared. There was one old woman in his building two floors down who paid him sometimes to come sit in her window and play songs from her childhood while she chopped vegetables and wept. But today, his heart wasn’t in it, and they all scattered as soon as he hit a sour note, leaving the yard abandoned.

Ava should have been home by then. He was trying not to worry – knowing her, she’d lost track of time at the Saloon and gotten into a drinking contest or something – but there was a part of him that couldn’t help it. They were in a new place, surrounded by nature on all sides. What if she was lost, or her phone was dead and something happened and she couldn’t reach him? Maybe it was a little late for the protective big brother schtick, considering that it was usually her defending him when they were kids, but still. He was getting ready to text her when snatches of laughter came drifting across the field, bright and delirious. Eli sat up. To his right, two figures cut through the field, one bubblegum-pink against wheat-gold. The other, he didn’t recognize. Then he remembered he wasn’t wearing his binder and sprinted inside.

“ – and so, my dumb ass spent the rest of the summer inside with a broken ankle,” Ava was saying when he came back out, and the woman she was with laughed, adjusting the basket slung across her shoulders.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. All kids do thoughtless things.”

“Very true. Eli!” Ava waved as they came the rest of the way down the path, smiling wide. “C’mere, I want you to meet someone.”

Eli didn’t particularly want to meet anybody right then, but he plastered on a smile and came down off the porch, too-big sandals flopping with every step. He’d grabbed Mal’s by mistake. “It’s past your curfew, young lady. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Ava rolled her eyes. “This is Leah. Leah, this weirdo is my brother Eli. Feel free to ignore everything he says.”

“Nice to meet you,” Leah said, holding out her hand to shake. Eli took it. Her palms were callused, her grip sturdy; it was at odds with the rest of her, willowy and refined. A long braid fell over her shoulder, red-gold in the heavy orange light.

“I might have gotten a little turned around in the forest on my way back,” Ava admitted, scuffing her shoe against the dirt. “Leah found me near her cabin and offered to walk me home.”

“I live in Cindersap,” Leah explained, shifting the basket again. It was three feet deep and woven from plain fiber, with straps that looped around her shoulders. The legs of what looked like an easel poked out the top. “It’s not the easiest place to navigate when you first get here, but don’t worry.” She gave Ava’s shoulder a friendly squeeze. “I got lost more than once my first couple of months here. You’ll get the hang of it.”

“Totally.” Ava’s cheeks were as pink as her hair. Eli stifled a grin. “Thanks again for the tour.”

“No problem.” Leah glanced at the sky. “I should go before it gets dark. Nice meeting you. You too, Eli.”

“You too.”

“Bye,” Ava said, and Leah flashed her a smile.

“Come visit sometime soon, okay? Don’t be a stranger.”

They both watched her go, the long grass parting on either side of her in waves and her hair glowing in the sunset. As soon as she was out of earshot, Eli smirked. “You know, I’m starting to think you have a thing for redheads.”

“Shut your facehole,” Ava said, but there was no bite to it. She was still watching Leah’s ever-diminishing figure as it neared the border where the woods swallowed the road, flushed like she was sunburnt all over again.

“Shit,” Eli said, starting to laugh, and her head snapped towards him, blush replaced with a scowl.

“What’s so funny?”

“You are! You’ve known her for what, two hours?”

“Two and a half!” Ava shot back, and immediately dropped her face into her hands as he cracked up. A groan slithered from between her fingers. “Yoba, Eli, she’s so pretty. What the hell is wrong with me? I told her about breaking my ankle on that dare in fifth grade!”

“Did you tell her about sleepaway camp?”

Silence followed.

“You told her about sleepaway camp. Oh boy. Okay.” He patted her back. “Wait here. I’m gonna get us a drink.”

“Beer?”

“Vodka.”

“You always were my favorite brother.”

There was nothing to mix the vodka with, so they sat on the porch and passed the bottle back and forth, chasing each swig with mouthfuls of water.

“You know, I was mad when I found out you told Mom you were bi before you told me,” Eli said after a while. The stars glistened like fresh dew, the moon rising fat and gold over the treetops. He’d never seen so many stars. Ava took another drink.

“I didn’t think you’d care. You didn’t tell me you were trans until after you started T.”

“I know. I’m not saying it’s fair, it just… made me miss how we used to share everything.” Almost everything.

“If it makes you feel any better, she was kind of shitty about it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Dad talked her down, though.” Ava held out her hand for the bottle. “I think it actually helped when you came out. She got a lot better after you had that whole big conversation with her.”

“Huh.” He hadn’t known that. He took another drink and passed it back. The vodka had stopped burning three swallows ago. “So. Leah, huh?”

“I don’t even know if she likes girls. With my luck, she’s as straight as… as…” Ava paused, thinking it over while she rolled the mostly-empty bottle between her palms. “Some straight thing, I dunno. I used up my last two brain cells trying to make her laugh.”

“But the sleepaway camp story? Really?”

“I panicked!” She punched his shoulder lightly, and he batted her hand away. “Look, it’s always been easy with guys. They do all the hard work. The flirting and asking you out and shit, I mean. When it comes to women, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Okay, well, ignoring all that other stuff for a second, what are you gonna do if she is into women? You barely know her.”

Ava shrugged and started peeling the label off the bottle. “I can get to know her.”

“I’m not saying you can’t, I’m just saying to think about it realistically. We’re only here until next summer.”

“A year is plenty of time.” She glanced at him, folding the torn label in half. “You could probably find someone too, if you wanted. You can’t be the only gay guy in the valley.”

“It’s not that simple.” He wished it were that simple. He hadn’t so much as kissed anyone since he and Jesse split the year before last, and some nights he couldn’t sleep for the aching. “Even if I did find someone I wanted to hook up with, we’d have to have ‘The Talk’, and there’s no fling worth being the Pelican Town freakshow. Y’know?”

Ava’s fingers found the back of his hand, their touch unsure. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking about it like that.”

“It’s cool. Not your fault. Besides, we’re talking about you, remember?” He scooted around on the steps to face her, crossing his legs and motioning for the bottle. “Tell me everything you know about her so far. I wanna see if she’s good enough for my little sister.”

“Dork,” Ava said, but she was already back to swooning, a dopey grin spreading across her face. “Dude, she’s so nice, like… okay. Earlier today. I got lost as shit, right? No idea where I’m going, pretty sure I’m gonna die alone in the woods, all that fun stuff. And then I stumbled into this clearing, by the river, and there she was. She was sketching the parrots, and she even had one sitting on her shoulder, it was awesome, and I didn’t want to say anything at first because I didn’t want to interrupt, but then she saw me, so I had to go over there…”

Eli sat back and listened, careful to keep any residual bitterness out of his smile. He wanted to talk to Janice, but she might as well have been across the ocean right then for all the good that was doing him. More than that, though, he wanted what Ava had. He wanted those first stirrings of a new crush, and the terrifying thrill of possibility that accompanied them. To be excited that a cute guy was nice to him and squeezed his shoulder.

But if she was happy, and Mal was getting there… well. Two out of three wasn’t bad.

Not bad at all.

Notes:

I know Alex says in the game that his mom died twelve years from the present, not ten, but this story plays with the general timeline, because I said so.

Chapter 6: Six

Notes:

Content warnings in the end notes.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Alex started playing gridball in fifth grade so he didn’t have to go home after school. He kept playing because when his dad found out, he clapped Alex on the back and told him he was proud of him for the first time. That it was a man’s sport. He said it like it was a secret door Alex had unlocked without even realizing it, one that led down the path to being a Real Man. Alex didn’t know what that meant, but he’d seen his dad change the channel on the TV or shake his head reading the paper, muttering things like sissies and faggots, and the words gave him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, like the time Jeremy Evans headbutted him during practice and then called him a pussy for crying. Maybe that was why his dad got angry and hit him. Maybe he could sense deep down that Alex wasn’t cut out to be a Real Man, because he cried sometimes and liked helping his mom in the garden. That year, for Mother’s Day, he’d made his mom a vase in art class. It was made of dull reddish clay, lumpy and misshapen, but he’d put her favorite flowers in it: pink and white tulips and deep blue jazz, with daffodils bright in the center like the sun. When his dad saw it, he broke the vase and smacked Alex so hard his ears rang, pieces of clay and flowers scattered across the kitchen floor and water soaking into his socks.

“If I wanted a girl, I would have knocked your mom up again,” his dad said. “Now clean this shit up.”

That was one thing Alex wished sometimes, when things got bad and the noise in his head was too loud – that his dad hadn’t skipped out before he was strong enough to stand up to him, before he was strong enough to protect his mom the way she’d protected him. Instead, he’d learned how to stop crying every time he took a hit, and his dad came to his games, and for an hour and a half once a week, it almost felt like they were a family. He’d hung onto that feeling like it was real, something tangible that he could keep if he grabbed it tight enough. All these years later, and he was still hanging on, even as the rest of him fought to let go.

After his dad left, he kept playing because he was good at it; when his mom died, it was all that was left. His life narrowed to the field, the grass on the pitch and the roar of the crowd. He didn’t remember much else from that time. It all blurred together, and sometimes little bits and pieces bobbed to the surface: his mom’s smile, the beeping of the machines and the smell of bleach, the hissing crack of a beer fresh from the fridge, insects buzzing on summer nights while his dad yelled in the background, his mom humming along with old songs on the radio while she cooked. Mostly there was the overwhelming sense of loneliness that clung to the edges of everything in a thick film, suffusing it all with grey. It was easier if he didn’t let himself think about it. If he just pretended that he sprang up in his grandparents' house one day, fully formed. A blank slate.

But whether he wanted to think about it or not, it was because of his dad that he’d started playing, and because of his dad that he kept going back. Not that he’d tell anyone that, they’d think he was crazy, but it was what drove him, year after year. If he was still out there – and he almost certainly was, miserable bastards like him kept on trucking while decent people dropped like flies – Alex wanted him to turn on the television someday and see his son score the winning goal. See that same son lifted high, cheered on by half the country while his good-for-nothing father rotted away in some backwater town, like something out of a movie. And when that happened, Alex was going to look right into the camera at his post-game interview and dedicate his win to his old man. He laid awake at night sometimes, picturing it. The bright lights of the stadium, the roar of the crowd, teammates celebrating all around him while a trophy found its way into his hands, shiny and gold.

What do you think now, Dad? Now that I’m a winner, and nobody knows or cares who you are?

Are you proud of me now?

*

“Can you believe the Moonlight Jellies are less than two months away? It feels like summer barely started.”

Alex grunted and rubbed another glob of sunscreen between Haley’s shoulder blades. Normally he’d agree with her, but he didn’t feel like talking much today, and she hadn’t shut up since she dragged him down to the beach to get some sun. He was starting to wish he’d just stayed home.

“I really want to get up to Zuzu before it’s over. Café Saucier only serves that pink cake during the summer.”

Another grunt.

“Want to come with me?”

He shrugged. Haley flipped her sunglasses up and craned her head around to look at him, lips pursed.

“Seriously, what is with you today?”

“What?”

“You’re all boring and quiet. You didn’t even want to throw the gridball around.”

“You can’t throw, though.”

“Ugh, fine. Be a jerk.”

She slid her sunglasses back on and rolled away, face-down on her towel with her head pillowed on her arms. Alex still didn’t get why she bothered with bikinis when it was just them at the beach – the only other person they saw regularly was Elliott, and there was no way he was into chicks. Not with that hair.

“I didn’t mean it like a bad thing.” It wasn’t like she was the one trying to go pro. He leaned back on his elbows, squinting up into the blue. It was too blue, like even the sky was determined to piss him off today. “Just stating a fact.”

The top half of Haley’s face was hidden, but he could still feel her glaring at him. “Why are you being like this?”

“Being like what?”

He knew exactly what he was being like, and he knew it wasn’t fair, even as he said it. Haley was just trying to help, in her own way. But it was like the smallest, meanest parts of him crawled up and took over his mouth at times like these, and all the rest of him could do was stand by and watch.

“Like that!”

“I dunno, why did you tell Eli about my dad?”

Like a car crash in slow motion.

Haley’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. I’m sorry, Alex immediately wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come, and they sat in stony silence until she looked away.

“If you didn’t want to hang out, you could have just said so.”

“But you – “

“Just go.” There was nobody alive colder than Haley when she was upset, and the disgust in her voice cut like winter wind. “I don’t like you when you’re like this.”

“Fine.” He got up, sand shifting and sluggish beneath his feet, and snatched up his towel from where it lay crumpled next to hers. “Whatever.”

He kind of wanted her to pick a fight with him, he realized. His head felt full to bursting, heart jackhammering against his chest the way it did after he ran a few miles, and he wanted her to tear into him, so he could let it out. But now she was ignoring him, and he’d already done enough damage as it was. He stormed off, the ocean vast and uncaring at his back, and the gulls screamed mockingly overhead.

He didn’t go back to town. He didn’t want to see anyone. When he reached the other side of the bridge, he shoved his towel back in his bag, slipped his tennis shoes on, and took off running towards the forest. No particular direction, no following the road, just tearing through the trees at breakneck speed, trying to leave himself behind, and all around him, Cindersap blurred parrot-green.

Little by little, his head emptied, and the sick, tight feeling in his chest faded away, leaving only shame. Sometimes Haley got on his nerves, yeah, but she didn’t deserve the way he’d treated her. He slowed to a jog, then a walk, sweaty and breathing hard. He had no idea where he was, but that was fine for now. He didn’t usually go this deep into the woods. Shadows darted overhead, disrupting the sunbeams breaking through the canopy, and he looked up to see small brown birds dart deeper into the trees. A faint thread of noise wound through the rushing of the river, and he stopped for a minute to listen, trying to separate the two. Then he found himself humming along and realized it was music.

His mom and his grandma had told him the same thing, growing up – if you hear a song in the forest that you don’t know, don’t try to find the singer. Leave the way you came. Alex followed it upriver and told himself that whistling didn’t count.

The trees grew sparse as he walked, and the river narrow, until the path opened up into a half-moon hollow with a pond at its center. Here, the water came to rest, and it was lined with willow trees on all sides, long, delicate fronds trailing over its banks. Eli sat beneath the tallest one with his feet in the pond, strumming a guitar and whistling. Birds crowded in the branches above him, sunlight pouring through a lacy green curtain, and Alex didn’t know anything about art but he was pretty sure it made the kind of picture people paid to look at in galleries and museums. But then Eli spotted him and his fingers fumbled across the strings, his song faltering. The birds all scattered to different trees. One parrot hopped down to the lowest branch and let out an offended squawk in Eli’s direction before taking off.

“Uh,” Alex said, because it felt like one of them should say something. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Eli was still hanging onto the guitar with his fingers poised across the strings, a strange look on his face. “You come from the beach?”

Alex was about to ask how he knew when he glanced down and remembered that he wasn’t wearing anything but his trunks and shoes. “Oh. Yeah.” He scuffed his foot across the grass. “Just felt like going for a run.” It was a dumb excuse, but Eli nodded like he wasn’t a complete idiot anyway. The weird look was gone now. Maybe Alex had imagined it. “What are you doing out here?”

“Taking a break.” Eli’s hands plucked at the strings, restless. “I needed to get away for a minute, y’know? Clear my head.”

Alex knew that feeling all too well, and he scratched the back of his neck, glancing around. “Yeah. I get that.” He wondered if he should leave. It kind of seemed like it, but then again, Eli wasn’t acting like Alex was bothering him. He looked pretty peaceful sitting there with his feet in the water and his eyes half-closed, sunlight kissing the planes of his face. A curious trout swam up to investigate his toes, then dove away. The guitar plinked like raindrops.

“How long have you been playing for?”

He’d asked to fill the silence more than anything, but Eli looked pleased at the question. “Since high school, so… geez, a long time. I’m mostly self-taught, though.”

“What, like three, four years?”

Eli blinked at him. Then, he started to laugh.

“What?”

“How old do you think I am?”

“I dunno,” Alex said, confused and suddenly defensive. “Twenty-one, twenty-two?”

Eli laughed harder. “Even with the beard? Shit.” At Alex’s blank stare, he clarified. “I’m twenty-eight.”

“You are not.”

“What, you wanna see my ID?”

“Yeah, because there’s no fucking way.”

“Prepare to have your mind blown,” Eli said, and dug out his wallet.

He really was twenty-eight, a fact which Alex was still having trouble grasping, but that was only the second most interesting thing on his license.

“’Elijah Herbert Lyndon’,” he read off the little plastic rectangle, squinting down at it. “Your middle name is Herbert?”

“After Pops, yeah.” Eli took it back and tucked his wallet away. “My dad says I look like him.” He stole a glance at Alex. There was something almost shy about it. “You grew up here, right?”

A pit opened up in Alex’s gut. “Yeah.”

“Did you know him?”

“Not really.” It wasn’t technically a lie. He picked at a loose stitch along the side of his swim trunks, avoiding Eli’s eyes, and heard him sigh.

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. We stayed here over the summer a couple times, growing up, and I don’t think we ever went into town. Not that I can remember, anyway.” The water sloshed around his ankles. “Sorry. I just… I wish I’d known him better.”

Alex didn’t know what to say, so he kept his mouth shut. They ended up sitting together on the bank in the shade of the willow tree, their knees almost brushing whenever one of them shifted. A little cramped, maybe, but well worth the quiet. Eli looked down at the guitar.

“Do you play?”

“Nah. My grandpa says I’m tone-deaf.” A gnat buzzed by his ear, and he swatted it away. “I play gridball. Trying out for the Tunnellers this fall.” Again.

“Oh, the pro team in Zuzu?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.” Eli actually sounded like he meant it. More importantly, he didn’t ask why Alex was five years out of high school and still chasing a pipe dream. “I’ve never been much of a sports guy, but gridball’s alright. My ex was a huge fan.”

“She a gridball groupie? I heard there are a ton of those in Zuzu.”

It was inevitable, really – the Tunnellers were the number one team in the Western League five years running. Alex was about to make a crack about how he couldn’t wait for hot girls to come hang all over him once he made it, until Eli gave him an odd little smile and shook his head.

“I wouldn’t call him a groupie. A little obsessed, maybe, but we all have our flaws.”

I wouldn’t call him a groupie.

Him, him, him, in time with the erratic pounding of his heart.

“You’re – “ The word got stuck in his throat, and Alex coughed into his fist, trying to dislodge it. “You’re gay?”

“Yeah,” Eli said, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“You don’t look gay.”

“Oh, sorry, I left my glittery thong and ‘I Like Dudes’ sandwich board back the house. My bad.”

“Fuck off, that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh?” Eli was enjoying watching him squirm, if the grin spreading across his face was any indication. “What did you mean, then?”

“Just…” He struggled to find the words, face burning. “Like, when I first met you, I wasn’t like, ‘oh, that dude’s gay’, you know? That’s all.” Because Eli didn’t look, or talk, like a sissy, and he might have said that too, if he wasn’t already pretty sure it was the wrong thing to say.

Eli rolled his eyes. “I get it. But yeah, I’m gay.” He met Alex’s eyes squarely, still smiling, which, how was he even doing that? Talking about it like it didn’t matter? “Is that a problem?”

“Uh… no,” Alex stammered. “No man, it’s cool, I just… never met a gay guy before.”

“You probably have. They just didn’t tell you.” Eli strummed his guitar again, absently picking out a tune. “Not everyone’s as open about it as I am.”

Understatement of the century.

“You ever thought about trying to learn?”

Momentary panic gripped him. “Huh?”

“Instruments.” Eli motioned to the guitar. “I know you said you don’t play, but have you ever thought about learning how?”

“Oh. No, not really. Always thought it might be kind of cool, though.”

“Yeah? I can show you some stuff, if you want.”

“Really?” Kind of an abrupt change in subject, but Eli was clearly done talking about the gay thing, and Alex was only too happy to move on. “That’d be awesome. Thanks, man.”

“It’s cool. I’m always looking for more excuses to practice, anyway. It’s been a while since I played on the regular.” A fly wobbled past Eli’s face, and he yawned, squinting into the light. Alex had never seen eyes quite like his before. Pure grey, without any blue or green to muddy the color. Weird, but cool, the way they almost glowed in the midday sun. “Do you have time now, or…?”

For a minute, Alex was tempted to say yes. The day was warm, the forest welcoming; it would have been easy to sit there until sunset and forget about everything that waited for him back in town. But he didn’t have his phone, and Haley was pissed at him, and he didn’t want to risk worrying his grandma too.

“I should probably head back before it gets too late. Gotta take care of something.”

“No problem,” Eli said, and started digging through the pockets of his shorts. “You got a cell phone?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s your number?”

Alex told him, even as a part of him wondered if he should. He didn’t want to give the guy the wrong idea. But Eli just punched it in and typed out a quick message, fingers tapping away on the screen.

“There.” He put his phone away, smiled lazily. “Hit me up whenever you wanna learn some basic guitar stuff.”

“Sounds good.” Alex stood, brushing his hands off on his trunks. “I guess I’ll catch you around?”

“Sure thing, man.” Eli whistled a quick little tune, punctuating it with a strum of the guitar, and all around him, the trees lit up with song, parrots warbling in harmony. It made something catch deep in Alex’s throat, and then it was gone. “See you later.”

*

He didn’t know what to make of Eli and his birds. Didn’t know what to make of Eli, period. He found his phone where he’d left it that morning when he got back to the house, shut in his desk drawer with one unread message.

Now you have my #, hit me up when you’re free

Were they friends now? He wasn’t sure he wanted to be Eli’s friend, but he wasn’t sure he didn’t, either.

You wanna be friends with a faggot, boy? His dad’s voice echoed in the back of his head, sneering. Should have guessed you’d turn out to be one, too. You always were a candy-ass little bitch.

He didn’t delete the message, but it was a close call.

*

“Go away,” Haley said through the door, voice muffled, and Emily patted Alex’s arm.

“Good luck. She’s been pouting in there since she came back from the beach.”

“I can hear you!”

Emily fluttered off to finish getting ready for work, and Alex knocked again, soft as he could manage. “Hales, c’mon. Open up. I’m sorry for being a jerk.” Silence followed, and he swung the Joja-Mart bag so she could hear it rustle. “Will you talk to me if I tell you I brought melon sherbet and those coconut candies you like?”

The door opened a crack, and Haley glared at him, only one of her eyes visible. He opened the bag so she could see its contents, and after a minute, she sighed and stepped back.

“Fine. Come in.”

He’d brought a spoon too, just to be safe, and as soon as he shut the door behind them, Haley snatched it from him and crawled back into bed, ripping the lid off the container. Her room still looked the same as it had when they were kids, with its pale pink walls and the white vanity across from the bed, gauzy curtains drawn closed across her window. Sometimes he wondered if she ever felt too old for it, but then again, it wasn’t his room.

“I was just looking out for you,” she said around a huge mouthful of sherbet. “You didn’t have to be so mean.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” He sat down next to her, mattress springs squeaking. “I shouldn’t have acted like that. But like, maybe don’t tell people stuff about my dad or whatever unless I say it’s cool?”

She swallowed, dug another bite out of the carton in her lap. “Okay.” Pause. “Sorry.”

“Okay. You forgive me yet?”

“I will if you watch Practical Magic with me. And if you let me choose the next flavor for the ice cream stand.”

“You’re gonna pick something nasty like pistachio, aren’t you?”

“You mean, something amazing like pistachio.” She licked the spoon. “Or melon.”

“Gross. Fine.” Alex slung an arm around her shoulders, trying to hide his relief. He hated it when Haley was mad at him. He was never sure what to do with himself when she wasn’t around, and without her, who else did he have? Maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t deleted that text from Eli after all. He could stand to branch out, friend-wise. “Haven’t you seen Practical Magic like, thirty times?”

“Shut up, nerd,” Haley said, curling up against his side, and turned on the TV.

Notes:

TW: Past child abuse, misogyny, (internalized) homophobia + slurs.

Chapter 7: Seven

Notes:

Content warning in the end notes.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

At forty-eight, Cassie Lyndon was as vibrant and full of life as she’d ever been, even with crow’s feet and a full head of silvery-white hair – all the color had run out of it the day she discovered she was pregnant at seventeen.  She’d also insisted on weekly check-ins once her children made it clear they intended to go along with their grandfather’s wishes, and the concept of a brief phone call was one she had yet to grasp.

“Your father and I are just concerned,” she said for what must have been the tenth time, knife thunking rhythmically against the cutting board in the background. Making tamales for the church potluck, same as she did every month. Eli had already been treated to a fifteen-minute detour concerning Mrs. Gunderson and the store-bought tamales she’d attempted to pass off as her own at last month’s dinner. “A farm that size needs tons of upkeep, and with that awful little man from Joja sniffing around…”

“Mom, relax. We went over the will with their corporate lawyers the other week. Again.” Thirty minutes of his life he’d never get back. Morris had practically been salivating under the cheap florescent lights. “As long as all three of us stay here for the full year, Joja can’t touch the place.”

“Thank Yoba. I have no idea what Herb was thinking.” The coffee pot bubbled, and Eli shifted his phone to his shoulder so he could pour himself a cup, listening to her run the sink through the speaker. “But what happens when the year is up? The three of you have talked about that, haven’t you?”

“Not… exactly,” he admitted. “But we will soon. The last few weeks have mostly just been us trying to get this place in order and figure out what we’re doing.”

His mom sighed. She had a lot of sighs. This one was her best I hope you know what you’re doing sigh, with a dash of I love you, my idiot children for flavor. “Well, let us know what direction you’re leaning, or if you need any help. Remember, your uncle Vinnie has his real estate license now, so if you end up wanting to sell – “

Someone knocked on the front door, screen rattling in its frame, and Eli silently thanked whoever it was for the distraction. “Hold on!” he called. “Mom, someone’s here. I gotta go, okay? I’ll talk to you later.”

“Text me!” she called back as he hung up. Phone tucked into the pocket of his robe and coffee cup in hand, he went to see who was at the door this time. Leah had shown up shortly after six, wanting to know if Ava was interested in going morel hunting with her, and no sooner had they left than Eli went outside to find a couple of especially bold crows terrorizing his tomato seedlings. He’d chased them off and added ‘buy a scarecrow’ to his ever-expanding To Do list. For his part, Mal had yet to surface; Eli was starting to think he’d moved into the basement permanently. He opened the door.

“Hi there! Sorry to bother you.” The woman standing on the porch was soft and round, settling comfortably into middle age, and beaming at him like they were long-lost friends. In one hand, she held a carton of eggs; a bundle of orange fur dozed in the crook of the other. A little girl of about six or seven hid behind her legs, peering out at Eli distrustfully. “I’m Marnie. I own the Sanctuary Ranch, just down the road? Thought it was about time we met our new neighbors.” She gave the girl a gentle nudge. “Jas, honey, say hi.”

Jas clung to her, staring up at him with big solemn eyes. Marnie chuckled. “This is Jas, my niece. She’s a little shy around new people.”

“That’s okay. I’m Eli. I’d shake your hand, but they both look occupied.” It felt impolite to just stand in the doorway, so he took a step back. “Do you want to come in? I just made coffee.”

“That’s sweet of you, but I need to get Jas to her lessons and get back to the animals. I’m afraid I had an ulterior motive for visiting.” Marnie held out the carton. “My girls have been laying like crazy since spring, and we have plenty extra, so how would you like some fresh eggs? They come with a kitten.”

Eli took the eggs, acutely aware that Jas was still looking at him. He wasn’t wearing his binder, but the way his robe and shirt hung hid his chest well enough. He hoped. “Well… thanks, Ms. Marnie. Is that a Pelican Town tradition, or just a bonus?”

“My barn cat had kittens, and I don’t need eight of them, so I’m trying to see that they go to good homes. Herb always did like cats. Thought his grandkids might feel the same.” The kitten in her arms rolled onto its back and yawned, paws skyward, and Eli’s heart melted into a puddle right there on the kitchen floor. “If you want him, he’s yours.”

Screw it. If Ava could go mushroom hunting at sunrise and Mal could run a brewery out of the basement, then he could have a cat. His apartment back in the city hadn’t allowed pets.

“Hey little guy,” he said as Marnie handed the kitten over, cradling him close. “How’s it going?” Blue eyes blinked up at him, half-lidded, then closed the rest of the way as the kitten fell back asleep. Eli looked up at Marnie, awestruck. “I can really have him? Just like that?”

“As long as you take good care of him,” Marnie said, looking pleased. Jas tugged on her hand.

“Aunt Marnie,” she whispered. “Can we go yet?”

“Yes, sweetheart. Just be patient for one more minute.” She dug a business card out of her pocket and handed it to Eli. “Here’s the information for the nearest vet’s office, just in case. They’re about fifteen miles from here, but they’ll make a house call if it’s an emergency.”

“Thank you. Seriously, I wish I had something for you, but…” Eli cast about for a suitable gift – spare produce, leftover pie, something – and came up empty. “I don’t think we have anything on hand. I’m sorry.”

“Please. If anything, you’re doing me a favor.” Marnie gave him a sly little smile, eyes twinkling. “But if you need to get rid of some of those melons growing in your backyard, you know where to find me.”

“You can have first pick,” Eli promised, and she chuckled and took Jas’s hand.

“Come on, let’s get you to Miss Penny. Don’t be a stranger, Eli.”

“Bye,” Jas said softly.

Eli waved at them as they trekked back down the road, his other arm still occupied with their newest resident. Behind him, the basement door creaked open, and Mal emerged, blinking, into the sunlight. He was wearing the same clothes he’d been wearing two days ago, hair greasy and stubble thick on his jaw, and Eli intercepted him when he made a break for the coffeepot.

“Dude, no. You fucking reek. Go take a shower.”

“Coffee first.” Mal swiped at him half-heartedly. Eli moved the pot out of reach.

“Shower and I’ll make you more coffee. Also, we have a cat now.” He scritched behind the kitten’s ears. “Go.”

Mal grunted, but went to the bathroom willingly enough. The sound of running water echoed behind the door, and Eli set the kitten down and picked up the eggs. First breakfast, then town – thankfully, he still had some money left in his savings. “You need food and a litterbox,” he told the cat. “And a name.”

In the distance, the water stopped running. The bathroom door opened.

“What do you mean, ‘we have a cat now’?”

*

In the end, it came down to a vote: two for, one against. Ava showed up an hour later with a basket full of morels and chanterelles and a dopey grin on her face, which only got bigger the second she laid eyes on their new tenant.

“He stays,” she said, tucking her feet up on the bottom rung of her chair. Her shoelaces were untied, and the kitten kept pouncing on them. “Majority rules.”

“Fine.” Mal set his jaw and stood, glaring at the kitten like it was personally responsible for his misfortunes. “But I don’t like it, I didn’t agree to this, and I’m not cleaning up after it.”

“He has a name,” Eli said. “Or will, as soon as I think of one.”

Mal shook his head. Eli was expecting him to go back to the basement, but he poured himself a fresh cup of coffee and went outside to the back porch, shutting the screen door behind him. Beneath the chair, the kitten chewed on Ava’s laces, purring gleefully. She didn’t seem to notice.

“How was mushroom hunting?”

“It was really cool. You wouldn’t think Leah’s from the city, as much as she knows about this stuff.” She picked up one of the fleshy orange chanterelles, as big as her palm, and brushed off some of the dirt. “She told me that right before she moved here, she and her ex were living on 96th and Fuller. We were practically neighbors. How weird is that?”

“Sounds like it was meant to be,” Eli teased. Ava tried to glare at him, but it didn’t work with the smile, and she gave up after a second and set the mushroom back among its fellows.

“So, what are you gonna name him?”

From his spot near the stove, Eli considered. The kitten was dozing again, one of Ava’s shoelaces still tangled in his paws. A patch of stark white fur was visible just below his chin.

“Dunno yet,” he said. “He’ll tell me when he’s ready.”

*

Okay, so. In retrospect, the guitar thing was stupid. But what was he supposed to do? He’d been minding his own business one minute, enjoying the sunshine and the water, and the next, there was Alex. Alex, damp with sweat, wearing nothing but his swim trunks and tennis shoes, looking like he’d strolled right off the cover of a Men’s Health magazine. Eli had figured the guy was in shape, but witnessing it for himself was practically a religious experience. Congratulations, you are now a convert to the church of Alex’s pecs. Go forth and worship. He was honestly a little proud of how well he’d held it together, all things considered. Every time he’d snuck a glance, his brain had threatened to short-circuit.

We talked about this, he told his reflection silently, puncturing his last vial neatly with the syringe. No more crushing on straight guys, remember? It never ended well. Not that crushing on gay guys always ended well for him, either, but at least it wasn’t a guaranteed disaster. After five years, his shot was a weekly ritual now, comforting in its own way – pinch thigh, slide needle in, inject T, pull needle out, slap band-aid on, dispose of hazardous materials, done – and he did it without really paying attention, lost in his thoughts.

It had been too long, that was all. He didn’t miss Jesse, exactly, but he missed their easy intimacy. Not the sex (well, not just the sex), but the other stuff, like casual kisses and being held, or the nights when he’d swing his legs over Jesse’s lap while they watched TV for a foot rub. He would have killed for a foot rub right about then. Of course he was having a physical response to the hottest guy he’d interacted with in months, even if said guy was kind of an asshole. Alex still hadn’t responded to his text. Eli was more relieved than anything. It had been an impulsive decision, and he needed to be spending less time around Alex, not more. At least, not until his brain caught up with his dick. He splashed some water on his face and went back to the kitchen, where he found Ava unpacking the last box of flatware.

“Oh, hey, there you are. Leah invited us down to the Saloon tonight with her friend Elliott. Wanna go?”

Eli’s first instinct was to say no and give them some space, but then again, it probably wasn’t a date if they were meeting Leah’s friend there. Maybe a night out was what he needed to get his head in order.

“Sure. Have we met Elliott?”

“Not officially. Leah says he was the guy at the Luau who looks like a skinny Fabio. He lives in that shack on the far end of the beach.” Ava put the last of the plates in the cabinet and shut the door, brushing her hands off. “Sounds fun, right?”

“Yeah, why not? The Pelican Town transplants, all hanging out together. Should be a good time.” Eli watched her for a minute as she scrubbed her hands in the sink and dried them, hair falling in her eyes. She seemed oddly subdued, but he couldn’t say why. “You okay?”

It was either the right thing to ask, or completely wrong, because Ava flopped into the empty chair at the head of the table with a groan, burying her face in her hands.

“Is… that a yes?”

“Eli, I like her so much.” The words came out all in a rush, like she’d been waiting to say them for a while. “I’m sorry, I’m trying not to obsess and I know I basically just met her, but I haven’t crushed on anyone like this since fucking high school, and I’m scared I’m gonna fuck it up before it even has a chance to be anything, so – “

“Hey, it’s okay. It can’t be that bad.”

“Her hair smells like sunflowers,” Ava said through her fingers.

“I stand corrected.” He patted her shoulder. “Seriously, though, it’s okay. Enjoy having a crush, chill, and have fun. And tonight, I’ll be there to stop you if you get drunk and try to propose or something.”

“Oh, fuck off.” She swatted at him, but she seemed much more cheerful, so Eli figured he was in the clear. The walk into town was just shy of an hour, and while Ava went to shower and fret over her outfit, he poked his head into the living room. Mal sat on the couch, blank-faced while he flipped through their Netflix queue. The kitten sat on the back of the couch, staring out the window at nothing the way cats often did.

“Me ‘n Ava are going out. You want anything from town?”

Mal shook his head, expression unchanged. He’d always been distant, even at his peak, seemingly disconnected from the world around him; living with him felt like having a permanent houseguest. Someone was always tiptoeing around that last degree of separation. Before the accident, Eli had chalked it up to narcissism. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

“Okay, well… text me if you think of anything. And the cat better still be here when we get back. I mean it. Don’t let him outside.”

Mal cracked the tab on his sparkling water. “Yeah, yeah.” Over his shoulder, the kitten blinked once, whiskers twitching, and yawned.

*

“Hey, you made it!”

Thursday night wasn’t exactly primetime for the Stardrop, judging from its lack of clientele, but it still felt more welcoming than any of the bars back home, soft light from the gas lamps blooming on the walls and cheerful country music whistling from the jukebox. Old-school country too, with its distinct bluesy twang. Eli approved. Leah waved at them from the corner booth.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.” Her cheeks were flushed, flyaway hair sticking to her temples. A half-empty bottle of red wine sat on the table, flanked by two glasses. “Elliott, this is Ava and her brother Eli. Ava, Eli, this is my friend Elliott.”

“Charmed.” Elliott smiled. He was handsome, if a little too polished to be Eli’s type, wearing a maroon velvet waistcoat with his hair falling over his shoulder in gleaming chestnut waves. He really does look like Fabio. Eli had to suppress a snort. Thankfully, no one noticed.

“Leah told me you’re a writer,” Ava said, sliding into the booth across from them. Eli crowded in after her, jeans squeaking against the cheap vinyl. “That’s pretty cool.”

“Not at all,” Elliott assured her, and Leah giggled. Eli assumed the bottle between them wasn’t the first of the night. “It’s dreadfully dull, if I’m being honest. Just me wrestling my ghosts via typewriter in an empty room.”

“Ghost wrestling sounds like the exact opposite of boring,” Eli said, and Elliott chuckled as he poured the rest of the wine into his and Leah’s glasses.

“I can tell you about it if you like, but if that’s the case, we’re going to need more wine. Garçon!” He waved a hand in Gus’s direction. “Another bottle, s’il vous plaî…”

It was a bit like getting drunk with the reincarnation of Oscar Wilde. Elliott was passionate, charmingly self-deprecating once the wine stripped away some of his polish, and at one point he made Eli laugh so hard that he almost spit his drink all down his front. Leah was the one who really surprised him, though – she was still quiet and self-possessed, but opinionated, with a sly sense of humor that crept out once she’d loosened up. He thought he could see why Ava liked her. The new bottle was emptied and replaced with a round of Gus’s summer shandy (“For variety,” Ava insisted), and at some point, the country music transitioned into gritty, stompy folk rock, the singer’s voice a mournful growl. Ava’s face lit up, and she slid out of the booth, leaving her empty glass behind.

“I love this song! Someone dance with me.” Leah shook her head, smiling, and Eli pretended to be interested in the foam at the bottom of his cup. Ava looked between them, mock-exasperated. “One of you bums is gonna dance with me before the night’s up. Just so you know.”

“Well, who am I to refuse a lady?” Elliott unfolded himself from the booth, and Ava cheered and grabbed his hand. Only Eli knew her well enough to catch the brief flash of disappointment in her eyes.

“C’mon, I wanna see how a writer dances!”

Not well, as it turned out, but no less enthusiastic for it. The two of them whirled around the room while Emily egged them on from behind the bar and Pam cackled her hoarse smoker’s laugh. Even Willy and Clint were craning their necks to see what the sudden commotion was about. Then Pam heaved herself off her stool and dragged Gus out from behind the bar, and Emily tossed her towel on the counter and dashed over to join them. Eli propped his chin in his hands and watched them, humming along.

“You don’t dance, either?” Leah asked. He shook his head.

“Gotta be drunker than this if you want to see that.”

She laughed, but she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking over his shoulder to where Ava spun arm-in-arm with Elliott, hair and freckles neon under the lights. “Maybe another time, then.”

The song ended, and Ava came bouncing back over with Elliott in tow, whose cheeks were as red as his overcoat. “You sure you don’t wanna dance with us?” she asked Leah, and Eli silently forgave her for ignoring him, since it meant nobody was pestering him to make a fool of himself. “Plenty of room out there.”

“Pretty sure,” Leah said, but there was that smile again, half-hidden by her glass.

“Not even if I buy us another round?”

“Another!” Elliott agreed, slapping the table, and Eli took the opportunity to climb out of the booth and squeeze past them – or would have, if Elliott hadn’t stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “What about you? Another drink?”

“Sure, yeah. Here.” He went for his wallet, but Elliott shook his head.

“No, let me. I insist.”

“If you’re sure,” Ava chirped, and Eli reluctantly took his hand out of his pocket. He didn’t like owing people, but Elliott was probably just feeling drunk and charitable.

“Alright, well… thanks, man. I’ll be right back.”

He went to the bathroom and took a piss, then washed his hands and splashed water on his face, florescent lights humming overhead. Nobody noticed when he snuck past the table on his way back and stepped outside. The weather had cooled considerably once the sun went down, and the breeze kissed his overheated skin when it rolled in off the ocean. Everyone else had already retired for the night, town square deserted and lamp posts flickering now and again in the silence. He leaned against the brick siding and looked up. Back in Zuzu, you could see the moon, but not the stars, not like this. Not these swirling, endless rivers of silver rushing through the deep blue sky. He still wasn’t used to the vastness of it all. Sometimes it terrified him, to remember how small he really was, but other times he found it comforting. Tonight, it was simply beautiful.

In the distance, a dog barked, and two now-familiar silhouettes emerged at the foot of the bridge. Eli waved. After a split second’s hesitation, Alex waved back.

“You take Dusty for a lot of late-night walks,” Eli said once they were close enough to hear him, crouching down. Dusty licked his hands, tail wagging. Alex shrugged.

“It’s not as hot out.”

“Less people around, too.”

Alex looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. I guess.”

He didn’t seem all that eager to talk, and Eli shoved down the disappointment that welled in his chest, scratching Dusty’s ears. Distance, dumbass. Distance was good. Better than doing something he’d regret. But when he stood up, Alex was right there, closer than Eli remembered him being a second ago. A faint dusting of stubble coated his jaw, and his eyes were green. How were anyone’s eyes that green? Eli swallowed.

“Sorry I didn’t text you back. I’ve been kinda busy.”

“Oh, dude. It’s fine. It’s been like a day.” Eli patted Dusty’s head, just to give his hands something to do. “Don’t sweat it.”

“Yeah,” Alex said. He didn’t move. Eli had to wonder if this was some sort of divine retribution for every unkind thing he’d ever said or done in his life. Why else would he be forced to stand inches away from someone so untouchable? “Maybe we could do some guitar stuff tomorrow, if you’re not busy. If you want.”

Eli blinked. He hadn’t actually expected Alex to take him up on the offer. “Yeah. Uh. That should be fine, I think. I have to check and see if the tomatoes are ready for harvest, but other than that I’m all yours.”

He realized how it sounded the second it left his mouth, but Alex didn’t seem to notice. “Cool. I’ll come by tomorrow afternoon, then.” But he still didn’t move, like he was waiting for Eli to say something else, and Eli had no idea what it could be. His head was full and the lights were buzzing, moths circling the lamp by the door. Alex had a nice mouth when he wasn’t talking, generous, with a dimple at the corner. Eli kind of wanted to bite it.

Fuck. He really was drunk.

“Cool.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I guess I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah. See you.” Alex gave Dusty’s leash a little tug. Eli couldn’t read his expression. It was either relief, or disappointment. Maybe both. “C’mon, boy.”

Dusty woofed and gave Eli’s hand one last lick through his pocket. Eli refused to watch them go. He turned around and put a hand on the wall to steady himself, the other braced on his thigh. Not for the first time that night, he wondered what the fuck was wrong with him. The saloon door swung open, hinges squeaking, and he straightened up, not wanting to look as dizzy as he felt. But it was only Elliott, pink and smiling with his hair in artful disarray.

“I was starting to wonder if you left,” he said.

“Nope. Just taking a breather.” At least it was only Elliott. Ava knew him too well. One look at his face and she would have instantly realized something was up. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, yes. Leah and your sister are having a rather intense discussion about tattoos. Hardly my area of expertise, so I thought I’d leave them to it.” Even drunk, Elliott was graceful – he moved like he was waltzing. It should have looked silly, but he did it with enough conviction to pull it off. “Are you sure you’re alright? You look like you’re out of breath.”

Well, that was one way to put it. “I’m fine.” He nodded in Elliott’s direction. “Looks like you’ve been having a good time.”

Elliott chuckled. “I usually do.” He swept his hair forward, off the back of his neck, and breathed a contented sigh. “Much better.”

“All that hair has to be murder in the summer.”

Elliott groaned theatrically. “Vanity will be the death of me, it’s true. The summers here can be dreadful.” He twisted it up into a bun, then let it tumble back down. “Even by the ocean. Especially by the ocean, some days.”

“How long have you lived here, anyway?” Eli asked. Elliott thought for a moment, tapping his chin.

“Mm, going on two years now, give or take.”

“You like it here?”

A smile blossomed on Elliott’s face, broad and free from affect. “I do. I really do, even though I wasn’t sure at first. It’s like living in something out of a fairy tale.” It was still there when he looked at Eli, the smile, but there was something else there too, like he was searching for confirmation. “Although, it does get lonely at times.”

Eli knew that look. He’d seen it plenty of times – on the street, at the bar, in the photos of the men on sites like OKDate and Scruff, analytical and longing all at once. He just wasn’t used to seeing it directed at him. “I can imagine.” Neither confirming nor denying. Just waiting to see what Elliott would do next.

“Living alone in a shack will do that, I suppose. Even if it’s rather nice as far as shacks go.” Elliott’s lips quirked into a smile. He had a nice mouth too, even white teeth and full lips. “I don’t suppose you’d like to see it?”

It would be easy, Eli thought. Elliott was making it easy. All he needed to do was say yes, he wanted to see it, and bury his hands in all that beautiful hair. It wouldn’t be such a bad thing, to be a little less lonely. Even if it was only until morning. Hell, Elliott was from the city, far worldlier than anyone else in town; he’d probably known trans people before. Eli might not even have to explain.

But as tempting as it was, it wasn’t what he wanted, not really. Not when he was drunk and looking for temporary solace. They both deserved better than that. He clapped Elliott on the shoulder and motioned towards the door. “We should probably get back in there before they come looking for us.”

Elliott’s face softened in understanding. “Another time, perhaps.”

“I’d like that,” Eli assured him, opening the door. Music and light spilled out onto the steps, accompanied by the low hum of conversation, warm and inviting. Elliott gave him a gracious little nod before stepping back inside, and Eli went to follow him, but something held him back. He looked over his shoulder at Alex’s house, dark and still but for a single light, glowing like a beacon in the upstairs window. Alex’s bedroom, maybe. Dusty let out a low howl from the garden, hidden behind the fence. The light winked out.

Notes:

CW: Non-graphic description of needles/someone giving themselves a shot.

Chapter 8: Eight

Chapter Text

He dreamed that he was swimming, surrounded by the cool abundance of the ocean. He couldn’t see the shore, but he cut through the waves one stroke at a time, unhurried. He wasn’t tired. He’d find it eventually. But the more he swam, the more the water swelled around him, and he struggled to remember which direction he’d come from. It hadn’t seemed to matter at the time. Not when it was just him and the sea for miles and miles, its waters strangely sweet on his lips. He looked down and saw clouds drifting along below him in scattered white puffs like dandelion seeds.

Huh. That was new.

Something kept urging him to look up, stronger by the second. Alex looked. There was the beach and the bridge leading back to town, and then all the rest, no bigger than patchwork squares on a quilt. It all looked so small down there, like he could cup it in his palms. He reached out.

Down?

It was below him, he realized with a jolt. Home was miles and miles below him, and he was swimming through the sky, suffocating in the endless blue. He woke up before he had a chance to fall.

It was just a weird dream, he told himself as he sat up in bed, sheets tangled around his legs and parrots chattering outside the window. Weirder than they usually were, yeah, but at least it wasn’t about his dad –

He kicked that train of thought right off its tracks. He wasn’t going to think about his old man right now. Not today, hopefully not ever. The parrots cried, long, laughing calls that went on and on even after he stuck his head out the window and threatened them with one of the books he never read. They weren’t afraid of anything as far as he could tell. He hadn’t realized it was possible to be jealous of a bird.

His grandma and grandpa were both waiting for him in the kitchen, his grandma smiling so wide her eyes almost disappeared into the wrinkles surrounding them. Even his grandpa had allowed one of his rare smiles to make an appearance, smaller but genuine. Alex stopped in the doorway. The table was covered with all his favorite breakfast foods: stacks of buttermilk pancakes, omelets with pepper and leeks, fresh milk from Marnie’s cows, and a plate heaped with hash browns. His grandma scurried over to give him a hug, and Alex’s throat closed up so tight he could barely swallow. He put his arms around her. 

“Happy Birthday,” she whispered, reaching up to cradle his face in papery hands, and her hair tickled his nose when he bent down and kissed the top of her head.

“Thanks, Grandma.”

His grandpa patted him on the back when he sat down. It used to make Alex flinch when he did that without warning, but he’d learned to trust that it wouldn’t hurt. He only flinched sometimes now.

“Twenty-three,” he said gruffly. “Hell of an age.”

Alex grunted and started piling food on his plate. Twenty-three was old. Not old-old, but old to start a professional sports career. He’d been avoiding it the last few months, but there was no getting around it now; this fall’s gridball tryouts would be his last. If he didn’t make it this time…

He shoved a syrup-drenched bite of pancakes into his mouth. He didn’t want to think about that, either. He and his grandpa ate steadily, the kitchen quiet except for the chewing, and his grandma sipped her tea and ate her toast and eggs, pleased with herself.

“Any big plans for the day?”

Alex shook his head, pushing his empty plate aside. Normally he would have gone for seconds, but he wasn’t feeling it today. “Not really. But I might go to the farm for a little while.”

“Hmph,” George said, and swallowed a mouthful of omelet. “Last I heard, you and the new farmers weren’t exactly getting along.”

“It’s fine, Grandpa. I’m over it.” He refilled his glass with milk, avoiding their eyes. “The younger brother, Eli? He’s alright. He said he could teach me some guitar stuff.”

His grandpa nodded and resumed eating, apparently satisfied, and his grandma smiled at him like she was proud of him for some reason. Like he was back in kindergarten, making friends for the first time. “That’s wonderful, dear. Just be back by suppertime. I already invited Haley over for you.”

“I will.” He didn’t really want to go to the farm, but it was better than having Eli come over. The thought of him permeating Alex’s space, seeing bits and pieces of Alex’s life and leaving traces of himself wherever he went was unbearably weird and intimate. He hated that word, intimate, but it was the only one that gave shape to the way Eli’s hypothetical presence in his home made his skin crawl. He took his dishes to the sink and rinsed them.

“Alex,” his grandma said when he turned the water off. “I made some cookies to thank Ava for the pie. Since you’re going up there anyway, would you mind taking them with you? My old bones aren’t what they used to be.”

“Of course, grandma.”

“Thank you, dear. Pretty girl, that Miss Ava,” she added slyly, and Alex fumbled with his still-wet plate. “Excellent baker, too.”

“All those tattoos make her look like a damn hoodlum,” his grandpa said, eyes still on his crossword, and his grandma tutted.

“George, honestly.”

Alex left them to it and went upstairs to get dressed. He’d take the cookies with him, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

*

He honestly didn’t know why he’d brought up the guitar thing. He did feel kind of bad for ignoring the guy when he was trying to be friendly, and the next thing he knew, he was inviting himself over, distracted by the way Eli kept licking his lips. Not in a gay way or anything, but caught up in trying to figure out how drunk Eli was. Dusty didn’t like it when people were drunk. He usually cowered when they had more than a beer or two. Maybe it was because Eli smelled like wine? His dad never drank wine.

Alex really didn’t want to think about his dad.

He made it to Whiskey Creek by late morning, cellophane-wrapped plate of cookies in hand. Nobody answered when he knocked, but when he listened, he heard voices nearby. He stepped off the sagging porch and followed them around back, where he found all three of the Lyndon siblings plucking tomatoes from the vine. Twelve full trellises lined a neat patch of tilled earth, heavy with bright red and yellow fruit.

“Look, I know I might have overdone it with the tomato plants, but – “ Eli broke off when he spotted Alex, waving. He was sweaty, olive skin tinged bronze from the sun, and a tub piled with their harvest sat at his feet. “Hey, you came!”

“I said I would.” Alex held out the cookies, a little flattered despite himself. Nobody was ever that happy to see him, except maybe Dusty. “These are from my grandma. I can put them inside if you want.”

“I’ll take them,” Ava offered. Eli narrowed his eyes and pointed at the tub next to her, also overflowing.

“You don’t get out of tomato duty that easy. Let’s go.”

“I can help,” Alex started to offer, but Mal picked that moment to hoist the third tub like it weighed nothing and shook his head.

“We got it.”

He still didn’t feel right just standing around, so he propped the back door open and put the cookies in the kitchen while Eli and Ava wrestled the second tub onto the porch and Mal went back for the third. Alex hadn’t realized he was in such good shape. Then again, all three of them were looking more rugged than they had a month ago. He sat at the table and watched them demolish the cookies while they discussed what to do with their windfall.

“Whatever we keep, I’ll can for later,” Ava said, licking smears of chocolate from her fingers. “Pops has a recipe for tomato jam I want to try. Also, holy shit.” She looked at Alex pleadingly. “Do you think your grandma would adopt me? She has a spot open for favorite granddaughter, right?”

“Or you could just ask her for the recipe,” Eli said, snagging a third cookie. Alex shook his head.

“My grandma guards her recipes with her life. She won’t even share them with Lewis, and he’s been trying to get her cheesecake recipe for twenty years.”

“Hardcore,” Ava said approvingly.

“That reminds me.” Mal nudged Eli as he got up from the table, taking one last cookie with him. “Ask your friend if we can borrow his mom’s truck to haul this shit to town. The emo one with all the hair.”

Alex snorted before he could stop himself. Eli glared at both of them. “His name’s Sebastian.”

“Of course it is,” Mal said, and disappeared into the basement, shutting the door behind him. Eli pulled a face, then glanced at Alex, irritation fading into apology.

“I gotta deal with the tomatoes and go back out to harvest the melons, so this might take a while. Sorry about that.” Something soft brushed Alex’s leg, and he looked down to see a kitten wind its way through the chairs to rub up against Eli’s ankle. Eli picked it up and scratched its ears, earning a muted purr. “Lemme text Sebastian and see if we can use Robin’s truck.”

“If you clean everything, I’ll take it to Pierre’s,” Ava said. Eli looked at her, surprised, and she shrugged. “What? I have plans in town tonight. Might as well.”

“You’re the best,” Eli said, and let the kitten climb up onto his shoulder, claws snagging the fabric of his t-shirt. “I’ll let you know when we’re done.”

“Have fun, boys,” Ava said, and wandered off, humming a song Alex couldn’t place.

He didn’t really want to just sit there – that left him open to too many stray thoughts, like wondering when and how Eli got to be that friendly with Sebastian, of all people – so he followed Eli back out to the garden, where the melons waited to be plucked from their vines. They worked in silence, the sun beaming down overhead, and Alex lost himself in the rhythm of cutting the stems from the tendrils and brushing the dirt from the rinds. The tub Eli had dragged between them filled quickly, and when they were done, they brought it back to the porch to rinse everything off. Then Eli grabbed a knife from the kitchen and split one of the smaller melons in half, and they sat on the steps and ate, fruit shockingly pink, juice running down their fingers and chins. The kitten sprawled out nearby, napping in the sunshine.

“I didn’t know you had a cat.”

Eli swallowed. “The lady down the road gave him to us yesterday. The one who owns the ranch.”

“Marnie?”

“Yeah. Sorry, bad with names.” He hopped off the porch, rind clasped in his still-dripping fingers. “I’m gonna go grab stuff and clean up. Be right back.”

Cleaning up sounded like a good idea, so Alex washed his hands with the garden hose while he waited, and Eli came back a few minutes later with his guitar slung over his shoulder.

“Alright, so I figured I could just start slow today, teach you some basic chords and scales. Nothing too fancy.” He plopped back down next to Alex, shifting the guitar to rest across his thigh. “I’ll go over it a few times, and then you can try when you’re ready. Sound good?”

Alex had started panicking internally when Eli left, and now it was ramped up to full volume, static in his ears. What the hell had he been thinking? He was tone-deaf and stupid, so why put himself in a position to be laughed at? If Eli didn’t already think Alex was dumb, he would after this. But he also didn’t want Eli knowing that he was freaking out, so he slapped on what he hoped was a convincing smile and nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Cool.” Eli’s teeth flashed, white against his beard. “I already tuned him, so I’ll show you how to do that later. First, strings.”

It wasn’t as bad as Alex had feared, mostly because Eli was a patient teacher. He was in no hurry, happy to demonstrate or repeat things as needed, and little by little, Alex relaxed. He even tried playing the chords a couple of times, just to feel the strings under his fingers. He wasn’t sure he was doing it right, but no one’s ears were bleeding, which was always a good sign. Eli listened for a moment, thoughtful, then said, “Try this,” and arranged Alex’s fingers differently, pressing them against the strings. Alex strummed again. “See how that sounds clearer? You don’t want the notes running together.”

It did sound better, now that he was paying attention. “Like this?” He tried again, and Eli nodded.

“Yeah. See, you got it. That’s all songs are, when you break ‘em down. A bunch of chords.”

“I never thought about it like that,” Alex admitted. It didn’t seem so intimidating when he put it that way. Eli shrugged.

“It’s all in the execution.”

Alex slipped the woven strap over his head. It skimmed his arms when he held the guitar out. “Play something.”

Whether it was a request or a challenge, he didn’t know. Maybe both. Eli looked a little startled, but he took the guitar back anyway, hand curling protectively around its neck. “Anything specific?” Alex shook his head, and Eli settled the guitar over his lap once more, taking a deep breath. “Yeah. Alright.”

Alex wasn’t sure what he expected, but it definitely wasn’t a song he knew. His grandma liked to listen to Summertime Suite(hearts) on her old record player while she baked sometimes, tunes wobbling out of the crackly speaker; it was an album from back when she was young, performed by a quartet of musicians from the Valley that did seasonal anthems. He’d never heard it like this though, clean and bouncy and bright like golden fields full of corn and wheat and waves rolling in on the beach, and his foot started tapping along before he even realized what he was doing. He tried to stop, but all that did was make Eli grin at him and play faster, fingers a blur on the strings. Then the tempo shifted again, dipping into something sweetly melancholic, and let him go. He closed his eyes and let it wash over him like sunset on the last day of summer. When it ended, Eli kept playing, aimless sweeping bridges between chords, and Alex leaned back on his elbows. The sun was hot on his closed eyelids.

“How did you know that song?”

“My dad used to play it. Said music in the city was nothing compared to the valley.” Birds called to each other in the distance. “It’s been a while, so I’m kinda rusty. Sorry.”

Alex thought he’d sounded great, but then again, what did he know? He couldn’t carry a tune to save his life. Ant skittered in and out of the gaps between the porch slats between them. He wondered what they were looking for. “I thought it was good.”

He cringed as soon as it left his mouth, because seriously, ‘I thought it was good’? He sounded like he was five. But Eli lit up like he’d said something profound, so maybe it wasn’t as stupid as he thought it was. He hoped.

“Thanks.” He cleared his throat, glanced at Alex out of the corner of his eye. “You wanna play more? Unless you have other plans or something.”

“Nah, not until later. My grandma’s making me a birthday dinner and she already invited Haley over, so – “

Shit. He hadn’t meant to say anything. It had just slipped out. Eli blinked.

“It’s your birthday?”

“Um. Yeah. I guess.” Alex still wasn’t used to birthdays. He’d learned pretty quick not to make a big deal out of it, or expect anything besides the little gestures his mom could manage – a murmured happy birthday before bed, a cupcake stashed in his lunchbox, maybe new clothes or a toy if his dad hadn’t blown that month’s budget. Even now, he felt weird and guilty whenever his grandma insisted on making a big deal out of it, like he didn’t deserve it. But before he could say anything else, Eli got up and went into the house, taking the guitar with him. He came back a minute later with one of the biggest melons, rind smooth and glossy pink.

“Happy Birthday.” He smiled crookedly. “Unless you’d rather have some tomatoes.”

Why? Alex wanted to ask, but the word stuck in his throat. It felt like a trap. It always did, when people he didn’t know well were nice to him. Even his dad had been nice sometimes. But his grandma loved melon, and so he took it. It was the same size as a gridball, and he was gripped with the sudden urge to throw it. He set it down in his lap instead.

“Thanks. That’s really nice of you.”

“It’s a melon. You don’t have to pretend it’s special.” Eli sat back down, his bare knee bumping against Alex’s. His skin was warm from the sun. “Shoulda said something earlier. I would have gotten you a real present.”

They were sitting a lot closer to each other than Alex had realized. Insects droned from the fields, the same shrill harmony they played every summer. He didn’t know why he was just noticing it now. Too many little details were making themselves known – dust rising in the air, acres of blue sky like in his dream, the smear of dirt on Eli’s cheek and the faint spatter of freckles across his nose – and suddenly he felt exposed, that prickly feeling of intimacy, of being seen sweeping across his skin. He stood up so fast he almost elbowed Eli in the side of the head.

“Shit. I didn’t mean to – sorry.”

“It’s cool.” Eli squinted up at him. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Alex said. His chest felt all weird and tight, but he ignored it, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I just remembered that I told my grandma I’d help her with some stuff before dinner, so…”

“Oh. Yeah. For sure.” Eli might have sounded disappointed, but it was gone so fast that Alex couldn’t really tell. “Hold on, I’ll get you a basket.”

He left the farm with the melon in one arm and a basket of tomatoes for his grandma in the other, the song Eli had played running through his head. He looked back when he got to the road. Eli was still standing on the porch. When he saw Alex looking, he waved, then disappeared back inside, screen door swinging. Alex felt like he’d missed something.

*

Haley showed up an hour before dinner, shoving a brightly-wrapped package into his hand and pressing a lipgloss-sticky kiss to his cheek. She smelled like sunflowers.

“Happy birthday, loser.”

She’d given him the complete Wednesday Night Lights collection – only the greatest gridball drama ever made, and one of the few shows they both liked – and she squeaked when he picked her up in a bear hug, squeezing her in silent thanks. Where she got the money for this stuff, he didn’t know, but he wasn’t about to question it. In the kitchen, his grandma hummed, a stack of plump tomatoes sitting next to the cutting board.

“They were so beautiful, I couldn’t resist,” she explained twenty minutes later, setting out a tray of fresh bruschetta. The baked salmon was still in the oven. “There’s nothing like a fresh heirloom tomato. Very kind of your friends to send you home with so many.”

“They had a ton.” Were he and Eli friends? Kind of, yeah. At least a little bit. It was still weird to hear it out loud. He shoved a piece of bruschetta into his mouth and chewed. It was amazing. He ended up eating almost half the tray before dinner was ready, Haley telling him all about the Fashion Week livestreams she’d been watching while they snacked. She could always tell when he was out of words, and moved to fill the silence so he didn’t have to. In the background, the TV blared. Something about a protest in Zuzu, calling for an end to the war and to bring the troops home. His grandpa changed the channel.

After dinner, there was cake, and Alex’s grandma and Haley sang to him while he tried to pretend he wasn’t mortified, ears burning. Even his grandpa was fighting off a smile. He’d told them plenty of times that they didn’t need to do all of this, that he was fine just letting the day pass him by, but his grandma wouldn’t hear of it. He thought sometimes that it was more about her than him, wanting to make up for something that wasn’t her fault, and after a while he quit trying to talk her out of it. He’d sit through several lifetimes worth of embarrassment if it made her happy. Haley… Haley just liked to see him squirm sometimes, but he kind of liked that too. She never treated him like he was fragile, even when everyone else did.

(He was still starting his Wednesday Night Lights rewatch without her, though. She didn’t get off that easy.)

When they were done with cake and evening turned to night, he helped his grandma clean up before she went to bed, and Haley left not long after, her perfume clinging to his shirt. The grandfather clock in the hallway ticked below him as he climbed the stairs. When he was younger, it used to creep him out, especially when it chimed at night. Now he found it comforting. It reminded him that he was at his grandparents’ place, and not the house where he’d grown up. That he was safe. He still locked the door behind him.

The shoebox under his bed was starting to fall apart, battered with age and soft at the creases, but he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it. Not yet. Haley had asked him what was in it once and gotten mad when he wouldn’t show her, but he still refused. It wasn’t anything he was ashamed of – all it held was old birthday cards and his mom’s music box. He just didn’t want to share it with anyone, either. He laid out the cards now and read them, one by one, while the music box tinkled softly beside him. They were like his version of the tarot cards Emily kept offering to use for a reading, except hers looked towards the future and his kept him anchored to the one good part of his past. When he got to the last one, he hesitated, just like he always did. It was the card his mom had written before she died, to be delivered by his grandma the year after on his fourteenth birthday. It made his chest hurt even now, whenever he saw her shaky handwriting. She’d been sick and in pain, but she’d pushed through it for him.

Dear Alex,

I’m sorry I’m not there to celebrate your birthday with you, but knowing that you’re safe and loved makes it easier. Fourteen already? You’re growing up so fast. Soon you’ll be a man. A good man with a good heart, like your grandfather. He and your grandma will be there to watch over you, and so will I. Even if it feels like I’m gone, I promise that I’ll never be far away. When we love someone, they’re never really gone. Not as long as we hold onto their memory. Go eat some cake, and give your grandma a kiss for me. I’m thinking of you.

Love always and forever,

Mom

And just like every year, no matter how old he got, Alex sat on the floor of his bedroom and cried until the music box ran out.

*

Saturday morning crept in late, overcast and heavy with impending rain, and Alex turned off his alarms and stayed in bed. Neither of his grandparents bothered him, save a gentle inquiry as to whether or not he wanted breakfast, but it was barely past nine when another knock came at his bedroom door, followed by his grandma’s voice.

“Alex? Haley’s here for you.”

Ignoring Haley never ended well for anyone. Alex groaned and hauled himself out of bed, grabbing the nearest pair of sweatpants from a crumpled pile on the floor. He was prepared to tell her to get lost, but as soon as he opened the door, she muscled past him with the precision of someone who’d expected a fight and wasn’t aiming to go quietly.

“I hope that’s not what you’re planning on wearing.” She turned in a circle with her hands on her hips, surveying his room with pursed lips. “Where are those jeans I bought you for Winter Star?”

“Uh,” Alex said.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Put on a shirt or something.” One flew across the room at his face, punctuating her point. He caught it. “Try that. It’s nice.”

“Why am I putting on a shirt?”

“Because we’re going to be late to catch the bus if you don’t!” Haley undid the clasp on her purse, and he finally registered that she was more dressed up than normal, wearing a soft pink dress with her hair twisted up into buns on either side of her head. “We’re leaving in fifteen minutes. Go brush your teeth.”

“Leaving for what?” Alex asked, exasperation making him snappy, and she pulled her phone out and shoved it at him. An email lit up the screen, confirming her purchase of two tickets for The Revengers: Fractal War. He looked up to see her digging through his dresser.

“We also have reservations at that all-day brunch place you like,” she informed him, pulling out a pair of jeans. “So get your butt in gear, because I don’t want to be late.”

“Haley,” he said, his voice absolutely not cracking in any way, and she smirked and threw his pants at him.

“Don’t get all sappy on me. Now seriously, get dressed. Zuzu City is two hours away.”

Chapter 9: Nine

Notes:

Content warning in the end notes.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Hey, thanks again for helping out. I really appreciate it.”

“You offered me sushi and weed. I still think I’m getting the better end of the deal.” Sebastian turned the key, and Robin’s truck came to life with a spluttering roar. “You could have just asked my mom to borrow it. She probably would have said yes.”

“Maybe, but the drive sucks without company.” Eli buckled his seat belt as Sebastian backed out of the driveway, gravel crunching under the tires. “I only agreed to do it because Mal can’t get in a car without having a panic attack. You should have seen him on the bus ride d – “ He cut himself off, bit his lip. “Never mind. Don’t tell him I told you that.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Sebastian said, “seeing how I’ve never talked to him.”

“Yeah, he pretty much lives in the basement and only emerges for coffee and food, so I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Sebastian cracked a smile at that. The radio buzzed and hummed when Eli turned it on, garbled static echoing from the speakers. Sebastian shook his head and reached over without taking his eyes off the road, clicking over to the CD player instead and turning the volume up. Shimmery synthesizer loops filled the cabin, overlaid with deep, thrumming drumbeats, and Sebastian rolled down the windows to let them out as he steered the truck onto the main road. After a second, the guitar kicked in, bright and twinkly, and Eli whistled.

“Is this your band?”

A faint flush crept onto Sebastian’s cheeks. “Yeah, it’s our demo. How’d you know?”

“It sounds like you.” He was still getting to know them, but it fit with his mental image of each of them so far – Sam’s cheerful, upbeat guitar riffs against Sebastian’s melancholic keyboard and Abigail’s bold drum solos. “You guys sound good.”

Sebastian glanced at him out of the corner of his eye like he thought Eli might be making fun of him, but when nothing else was forthcoming, he relaxed a little. “Thanks.”

Sam’s voice kicked in, crooning through the speakers about lost love on late night country roads, and Eli drummed his fingers on the armrest while he listened, nodding along. “Nice vocals, too. Who writes the lyrics?”

“Mostly Sam, but Abi and I each wrote one for the demo. A lot of them are collaborative, though.” A hint of bashfulness crept into Sebastian’s voice. “This one’s mine.”

Eli wasn’t surprised. The lyrics seemed a little too introspective to be Sam’s creation. He listened with his chin propped in his hand, rows of maple and pine passing by on either side of them. “This is really good.”

“It’s just us messing around at Sam’s house,” Sebastian said, but he looked pleased all the same, and the song faded out, the next one starting up. Eli drummed his fingers along with Abigail’s opening notes.

“Man, I always miss being in a band until I actually join one, and then I remember why it never works out.”

“You were in a band?”

“A couple, yeah, while I was living in Zuzu. The Missionary Position Mission and Sparklefucker.”

“Please tell me you named at least one of them.”

“Oh, yeah. Sparklefucker was all me.” Eli leaned back in his seat. “But I’m way too much of a control freak to be part of a band. I end up just wanting to do it all myself. Let ‘em keep the name, though, since I was the one who left. They perform at a lot of drag shows.”

The conversation shifted to various band names Sam, Sebastian and Abigail had thrown around over the last couple of years – they were currently trying out 2 AM Drive – and Eli bounced his leg and chimed in with the occasional suggestion to make him laugh or groan (usually both). He hadn’t expected to make friends, but he’d found himself pleasantly surprised by how much he already liked all three of them. Sebastian in particular was good company, he thought. Not as hyper as Sam or as snarky as Abigail, and he had a sly, grim sense of humor Eli could appreciate. He also had good taste in music, and he knew how to appreciate a comfortable silence – both necessary ingredients for any successful friendship. Maybe he was finally getting the hang of this whole ‘male bonding’ thing. The truck purred down the highway, cool wind tugging at their hair, and Zuzu City rose in the distance, gleaming silver skyscrapers against an occluded sky.

“Where’s this place we’re going again?”

“Haiku on Sixty-Third and Juniper. You ever been?”

“No. I don’t get out here a lot.” Sebastian checked over his shoulder as he started to switch lanes. “Maybe when my bike is fixed.”

“It’s good shit.” Eli looked out the window. It definitely looked like rain. “Take a right when you get off the highway.”

Haiku sat between two other restaurants and a used bookstore in a strip mall, its windows blacked out and neon open sign flashing in red and blue. “Best sushi in the city,” Eli said in response to Sebastian’s skeptical face as they climbed out of the truck. “Trust me on this one.”

It was just like he remembered – the softly-lit interior with its cream-colored bamboo print wallpaper and deep green vinyl booths, the aquarium mounted against the back wall teeming with brightly-colored denizens – and he felt a little dumb as the hostess led them to their table. Of course it was the same. He’d been gone for less than two months. Still, it was comforting to see that things back home hadn’t shifted too much. Aside from a table of college-aged kids and a few older folks seated at the bar, they were the only ones in the restaurant, and Sebastian nodded as he took it all in.

“Nice in here.”

“Yeah.” Eli flipped the menu open, scanning the appetizers. “Usually pretty quiet, too. Ava and I used to come here a lot back in the day.”

Sebastian gave him a searching look over the edge of the menu, but didn’t say anything until their waitress came by to drop off water. “You two are close, huh?”

“Yeah. She’s my best friend.” Eli dropped the lemon wedge into his glass and took a drink. “She was the one who always stood up for me. Kinda weird, I know, since she’s younger, but I got picked on a lot growing up and she was the only one who really cared.” He shrugged. “So I fought for her, too. I’m amazed neither of us were ever expelled.”

“No offense, but you don’t really strike me as the fighting type.”

“Shoulda seen me when I was a kid. I was angry all the time.”

“What happened?”

“Meds. And therapy. Lots of therapy.” Eli took another sip of water, catching their waitress’s eye. “You ready to order?”

Sebastian was quiet after that, texting someone. Probably Sam, if Eli had to guess. He pulled at a loose thread on the sleeve of his jacket, anxiety starting to seep in. Should he not have mentioned the therapy? People weren’t always understanding, especially when you threw mood stabilizers into the mix. He was debating how to best change the subject when Sebastian put his phone down and gave him a rueful smile.

“Sorry.”

“For what?”

“I – nothing. Never mind.” His gaze drifted towards the aquarium, watching the fish frolic. “Sometimes I wish Maru and I were closer.”

Eli had never heard him talk about his sister or his stepfather. It wasn’t any of his business, what went on in Sebastian’s house, so he hadn’t asked. “Yeah?”

“When you talk about Ava, and I see you guys hanging out… I don’t know. It must be nice not to feel like you’re competing all the time.” His expression flickered, momentary static. “Not that it’s really a competition.”

Eli was going to ask what he meant, but their waitress came bustling back with platters of delicate pink sashimi and spicy tuna rolls, and Sebastian’s face closed off like a door slamming shut. End of conversation. Luckily there was food to fill the void, and it wasn’t long before Sebastian put down his chopsticks and shook his head in wonder, some of the gloom lifting.

“Okay, you were right. This place is amazing.”

“Toldja.” Eli popped another tuna roll into his mouth. “Wanna try one? I’ll trade you.”

They didn’t have to pick up the hops from the nursery until two, and the next hour passed in a blur of conversation and stealing sushi from each other’s plates. Sebastian seemed much more at ease, which was a relief; Eli wasn’t sure they were at the stage of friendship where it was acceptable to pry yet. Maybe a few more months down the road. When neither of them could eat another bite, he asked for the check, and they left the restaurant with Sebastian telling him all about the tragically canceled space opera Lightning Bug.

“You really haven’t seen it?”

Eli shrugged. “I don’t watch much TV.” Music hadn’t left a lot of room for other pursuits. Sebastian starting patting his pockets, looking for his cigarettes.

“I have it on DVD. You should come over and watch it sometime.”

“Yeah? That’d be cool.”

“Just don’t talk the whole time. Sam does that.” Sebastian tapped the pack against the heel of his hand. “I’m gonna go smoke. Be right back.”

It was chilly now, chillier than when they’d driven in, but the rain had yet to fall. Eli leaned against the wall under Haiku’s faded awning, breathing deep. Familiar smells came, all jumbled together: asphalt, grease, the faint tang of ocean salt, the exhaust of passing cars. It was nothing like being in Pelican Town. He was still figuring out where he fit there, in the Valley. In Zuzu, he didn’t need to guess. The restaurant next door was where he and his hungover bandmates used to go after shows, the gas station across the street was where he and Jesse had their first fight, and just down the block was the modern art museum he and Ava used to visit after school, knowing they wouldn’t run into any of their classmates there. And maybe, ultimately, that was why he’d left. He needed space from the memories that waited on every corner, and the country seemed like as good a place as any to try reinventing himself. He sniffed again and smelled breakfast.

“Eli?”

“Alex?”

For a second, he thought he might be mistaken. But no, that was definitely Alex standing in front of the all-day brunch place, styrofoam to-go box in hand. Haley was with him, looking equal parts startled and cute, and a ripple of envy went through Eli before he could consciously process it. It made sense – guys who looked like Alex hung out with girls who looked like Haley – and that was as far as that train of thought was going to go, because he was done entertaining the world’s most ill-advised crush. He forced a smile and waved. “Small world, huh?”

“What are you doing here?” Alex asked. He was wearing something other than Tunnellers gear for a change, dark-wash jeans and a deep red shirt that stretched across his broad chest, and damnit, no, Eli wasn’t doing this right now. Not with the king of mixed signals. He was better than this.

“Having lunch. What are you guys up to?”

“Same thing as you.” Alex’s gaze darted to the truck, parked a few spaces down with smoke drifting from the open window. “With Sebastian?”

“Yeah, we’re picking up some stuff for Mal. Robin let us borrow it for the day.”

“Oh. That’s nice of her.”

“Yeah.” The three of them stared at one another, silence stuffed clumsily in the spaces between. Alex looked like he would have rather been anywhere else, eyes flicking from him to Haley to the truck and back again. Eli was in the middle of debating whether or not to fake a sudden bout of food poisoning when the truck door swung open. Thank Yoba. “Hey, Sebastian! Look who I ran into.”

“Hi,” Sebastian said, voice flat.

“Hey dude,” Alex said, with another furtive glance between Sebastian and Haley, and now Eli’s curiosity was at an all-time high. Whatever was going on, he wanted in on the secret. But Sebastian didn’t appear to care, because he gave them a brusque nod and turned back to Eli, truck door still hanging open next to him.

“We should probably get going.”

“Uh.” Eli blinked. “Yeah. Sure.”

“We should go too,” Haley said, not bothering to look up from her phone. He couldn’t tell if her boredom was affected or real. “The movie starts in like an hour.”

“Oh, what are you guys seeing?”

“Fractal War,” Alex said.

“Shit, that’s right. I forgot that came out.”

“Eli,” Sebastian said, voice sharp with impatience, and Eli raised his hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming.” He pointed at Alex. “Tell me how it is, yeah?”

“Sure,” Alex said, and then Haley was grabbing his arm and steering him in the opposite direction, going up on her toes to whisper in his ear. Eli walked back to the truck and climbed into the passenger seat, trying not to watch them go. Sebastian threw himself back into the truck and slammed the door so hard it made the whole truck rattle and Eli jump, noise ringing in his ears.

“Dude! Chill.”

Sebastian took a deep breath, knuckles bulging white where he gripped the steering wheel. “Sorry. Just… sorry.” Eli watched him for a second, cautious, but no more outbursts appeared to be forthcoming.

“You wanna tell me what that was about?”

Sebastian turned the truck on. He wouldn’t look at Eli.

“I will,” he said. “Later.”

Paradise Nursery was twenty-five minutes away. Sebastian smoked two cigarettes in rapid succession, windows down and the sounds of traffic flowing through the cab as Eli directed him down a series of winding side streets off the main road. By the time they reached their destination, he was visibly calmer. Eli almost wished he smoked, because he didn’t feel calm at all. Luckily, the plants were ready to go, bundled and potted in their temporary homes, and Eli paid inside while Sebastian brought the truck around back. On his way out, he shot off a quick text.

Product has been secured. Returning to home base.

The return text came a minute later. 

k

Man, you’re no fun.

i know

“Spoilsport,” he muttered, and put his phone back in his pocket.

They left Zuzu in dead silence. Sebastian didn’t speak again until they reached the highway, and the rushing wind almost drowned him out.

“About earlier.” He took a deep breath, face pinched and pale beneath its curtain of black hair. “Alex and I… don’t really get along.”

“Yeah, I picked up on that.” Eli’s binder dug into his armpits. He wanted to adjust it, but he was afraid Sebastian might notice. “You wanna fill me in?”

Sebastian sighed.

“We all went to high school together. You probably noticed Pelican Town doesn’t have one, so we went to Granada, a couple of towns over. Me, Sam and Abi got made fun of for being hicks, but Haley was hot and Alex was on the gridball team, so they fit in better.” His face hardened. “They never said anything when their friends messed with us. They didn’t always join in, but they never tried to stop it, either. And Alex was the one who was always calling me a homo and shit in front of his teammates. Told people he saw me and Sam making out under the bleachers, asked me if I jerked it to naked guys in the locker room… stupid shit like that, you know?”

The sick feeling in Eli’s stomach had ballooned since Sebastian started talking, slimy and noxious. His lunch churned. He swallowed a couple of times, hard. “Yeah. Gotcha.”

“Sorry,” Sebastian said. He sounded like he meant it this time. “You probably got that a lot. Growing up, I mean.”

“Something like that.”

“I didn’t care that they thought I was gay. Not really. I just wanted them to leave me alone.” Sebastian’s fingers drummed against the steering wheel, restless. He was normally so still, compared to Sam’s unbridled enthusiasm and Abigail’s in-your-face, no-fucks-given energy, and the sick feeling only grew. “I mostly just avoided them. We ditched a lot. But then, senior year, Sam gets us invited to this rager at this one kid’s house while his parents were out of town. Sam played guitar,” he added, “so he got a pass on being poor, plus some of the cheerleaders thought he was cute. Anyway, I was the only one who could drive, and Abi had a crush on the guy throwing the party, so they talked me into going up.” He sighed again, but it was a harder sound, almost angry. Like he was steeling himself for what came next. “It blew.”

“High school parties usually do,” Eli said. At least, that was what he’d been told. He’d never been invited to one.

“It might have been better if I wasn’t sober the whole time. Watching other people get trashed while you’re drinking orange juice isn’t as fun as it sounds. But yeah, after about an hour, I went to go find a bathroom, and the only one free was the one in this kid’s parents’ room. I walked in, and Alex was there. Hiding.”

“Hiding?”

“I guess his gridball buddies told him there wouldn’t be a bunch of drinking so he’d go, because they all wanted Haley and her friends to come and she wouldn’t unless Alex went. Or something.” His shoulder rose and fell in a half-shrug. “You ask me, he kinda deserved it for believing them.”

Harsh, in Eli’s opinion, but he wanted to hear the rest of the story. He kept his mouth shut.

“He was freaking out though, and I guess I felt sorry for him, because I told him I’d take him home. I figured by the time I dropped him off and came back, Sam and Abi would be ready to go, and it was better than sitting around sober, so…” A little red car zipped past them, highway dust and gravel flying in its wake. “It was weird.”

“Weird how?”

“He was so… quiet. No bragging, no running his mouth, none of the shit he normally did. And I remember thinking ‘wow, he must be really freaked out’, and that kind of freaked me out, so we drove the whole forty-five minutes without saying anything.” Sebastian hesitated, and Eli ran his hands through his hair, mostly so he had something to do. It felt like a storm brewing on the horizon.

“So, you got home…”

“Yeah. I was going to just drop him off at the bridge, but when I pulled over, he didn’t get out. We just sat there. So I asked him what was wrong, and he got this weird look on his face, like he was going to cry.” Sebastian’s face screwed up, disgust in the line of his mouth. “He tried to kiss me.”

On their first visit to Pelican Town, years ago, Eli’s grandpa had taken them all down to the beach. Eli had been five or so, and curious enough to wander into the shallows, where a riptide had snatched his ankle and dragged him under. That was how it felt now – that same sense of being unexpectedly flung upside down, and searching for air where there was none to be found. Like Sebastian’s words were filling up his lungs.

“He tried to kiss you?”

If Sebastian heard the way his voice broke on the word ‘kiss’, he didn’t let on. “Yeah.”

“So, what – what did you do?”

“I panicked. Pushed him away.” Pelican Town: 15 Miles, the sign proclaimed as they sped past. “Before I could say anything, he bolted out of the truck and ran.” Pause. “He looked scared.”

“What happened after that?”

“Nothing. I went back, picked up Sam and Abi, came home, and went to bed.” Sebastian shook some of the hair out of his eyes. His posture was more relaxed, like some of the tension had drained from him along with the story. “I wasn’t going to tell anyone. It’s not like they would have believed me, anyway. But he quit calling me a fag and making dick jokes after that, so I guess it wasn’t all bad. I just can’t fucking stand hypocrites. You okay?”

Eli let go of the armrest. His nails left little half-moon dents in the vinyl. “Yeah. Yeah, no, I’m fine. Just wasn’t expecting that.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said. “Me either.”

*

It was nearing sunset by the time they pulled into Whiskey Creek, Sebastian silent and Eli’s head spinning. Mal, Ava and Leah were sitting on the porch, talking, but as soon as Ava saw them, she hopped to her feet and waved.

“Everything go okay?” Mal asked as they climbed out of the truck, yawning and stretching their legs. “How are the plants?”

“They’re fine.” Eli stifled another yawn. Crickets chirruped lazily from the field, song soft in the orange-gold sky. “The guy at the nursery said that as long as these get properly planted and watered by tomorrow, the first batch should be ready to harvest in a few days.”

“Well, it’s too late to start today,” Ava said, squinting at the horizon. “What do you want to do with them until then?”

“Just put them around back next to the porch and we’ll do it first thing tomorrow.” Mal turned his attention to Sebastian, who was leaning against the side of the truck, toying with his phone. “You need gas money?”

Sebastian’s head snapped up. “What?”

“Gas money. For helping out.”

“Oh. Um. No, it’s cool. Eli bought me lunch.”

Mal shrugged as he unhooked one of the bungie cords and started peeling the tarp back. “Alright. Thanks.”

“Sure,” Sebastian said, some of his wariness fading, and went back to his phone. On the other side of the truck, Eli raised his eyebrows at Ava, who mouthed holy shit in response. Leah looked between them, confused, then at the rapidly-darkening sky.

“Shoot. I’m supposed to meet Elliott for dinner.” She stooped to pick up her basket, which was full of leeks and something else Eli couldn’t identify. “I can come back tomorrow morning if you need help getting those hops planted, though.”

“Sure,” Ava said, and Eli caught the flicker of disappointment as it disappeared under her cheery mask. “It’d get done faster, but don’t like, feel obligated or anything.”

“Not at all. I like working with my hands.” Leah’s nose wrinkled a little when she smiled, teeth bright. “See you later, okay?”

Ava’s answering smile looked much more genuine. “Yeah. Later.”

“Good seeing you again,” Eli called after her, and she gave him a little wave as she headed for the road, braid swinging behind her.

One by one, the hops were unloaded and transported to their temporary resting place, clustered in the backyard like a miniature forest. As soon as the flatbed was empty, Eli pulled Sebastian back around the front porch, one hand tucked in his pocket.

“Thanks again, man. Really appreciate it.” With a furtive glance to make sure neither of his siblings were present, he pulled out the baggie of pot and slid it into Sebastian’s waiting hand. “For services rendered.”

“No problem.” Sebastian tucked it away, unsmiling. Eli thought he might leave, but he stayed for a minute, hovering on the porch step. “Look, this might be out of line, but can I say something?”

“What’s up?”

“Who you hang out with is your business. I don’t even know if you’re friends with the guy or not. But, you know, people talk, and…” He scratched the back of his neck. “All I’m saying is to think about what I told you.”

He tried to kiss me, came the echo, somber. An image accompanied it – a younger version of Alex, leaning in, desperate to be seen before bolting from the same spot where Eli had sat not much earlier, fear driving him into the darkness. Chasing him home.

“I will,” he said, and watched Sebastian get back into the truck and drive away, wheels churning up dust until he was far, far out of sight.

Notes:

Content warning for homophobia and slurs.

Chapter 10: Ten

Notes:

Content warnings in the end notes.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

How was the movie?

Alex stared down at his phone. He’d been staring at it for the better part of a minute, ever since the text had come through. As text messages went, it wasn’t anything special – four words, accompanied by a smiley face. It was more about what it didn’t say, and for the first time since they’d bumped into each other outside the restaurant, the tension in Alex’s chest began to ease.

Sebastian hadn’t told him.

At least, Alex was assuming he hadn’t. He couldn’t imagine why Eli would reach out so casually if he had. Five years ago, and it still made him burn with shame on the rare occasion he couldn’t keep it from surfacing. He wasn’t gay. He’d kissed plenty of girls. Even had sex with a couple of girlfriends back in high school, and he still didn’t really get what all the fuss was about, but so what? It had been fine. The… whatever it was with Sebastian had been a mistake. A moment of weakness, brought on by unexpected kindness. He’d gone home that night sure he’d ruined his life, but as far as he knew, Sebastian had never said anything. If his teammates had gotten wind of it…

He shook it off, looked back down at the phone. Considered, then pecked out a response: it was ok

He was pretty sure it had been okay. Haley had seemed like she was enjoying herself. He’d been too preoccupied with Eli and Sebastian’s newfound closeness to pay much attention. Newfound to him, anyway. He had no idea how they’d been hanging out, let alone doing things like sharing lunch and going up to the city together. Eli had said Sebastian was just doing him a favor, but still. Alex had to wonder.

Despite what he’d said (and done) back in school, he didn’t really think Sebastian was gay. He’d just been an easy target, dressed in all black with his clove cigarettes and pierced ears and garage band, acting like he was so much better than everyone else. Fag, homo, queer – those were just things guys said to knock each other down a peg. They weren’t words you said to an actual gay guy (at least, not to his face). A guy like Eli, you mean? a little voice in the back of his head supplied, and guilt coiled tight in the pit of his stomach, along with another feeling he couldn’t name. Maybe Eli thought Sebastian was gay, too. Maybe he –

His phone buzzed against his palm. Just okay? I’ll have you know the Revengers series is a cinematic masterpiece. How dare you.

i think you just like dudes in spandex

Too late, he wondered if he’d crossed a line, but Eli’s response was accompanied by a string of laughing emojis. You got me. I’ve never even seen them, but Ava likes them a lot so she keeps bugging me to watch them with her.

i have the first 2 on DVD if you want to borrow them

That would be awesome! You should bring them over when you’re free. We can eat pizza and watch shit blow up.

Before he could talk himself out of it: i’m free tomorrow

Eli was also free the next day, so they settled on Alex coming by that evening. Alex’s head was starting to hurt, the text blurring in front of his eyes, so he left his phone on his desk and went for a run. Halfway through, he’d convinced himself he was being weird about nothing. This was what he got for having Haley as his only friend for the last five years. This was what you did – you met someone and eventually you hung out at each other’s houses and did stuff like watch movies and talk about random junk. He was just out of practice at the whole ‘making friends’ thing. Eli knew he wasn’t gay, and it wasn’t like he’d tried to hit on Alex anyway, so who cared?

He probably hasn’t hit on you because he likes Sebastian, the little voice whispered.

He didn’t care, though. He really didn’t. What Eli did in his spare time was his business. Still, maybe he’d find some way to let him know that Sebastian was probably straight. He didn’t want the guy getting hurt.

*

Movie night at the farm ended up being a lot more fun than Alex expected, and he felt bad for almost making up an excuse to get out of it (or just ditching altogether). Eli had picked up some pizza and pepper poppers – fresh from the Saloon, not the frozen crap they sold at Joja – and they sat on the overstuffed couch and watched The Revengers and The Revengers: Time of Dultron back-to-back, pizza box open on the cushion between them. The kitten slept in the windowsill behind Eli’s head, purring.

“I like that it doesn’t take itself so seriously,” Eli said as they were nearing the end of the first movie, blotting grease off his fingers with a napkin. Alex didn’t like spicy food, but he clearly did, considering how fast he’d demolished the pepper poppers. “So many superhero movies try to be all dark ‘n gritty now, and it’s like, you dress up in spandex leotards and get your powers from radioactive animals. Stick to cheesy one-liners and blowing up skyscrapers.”

Alex just grinned and went to put in the second one after the credits rolled. Eli was going to hate it.

Ava joined them as it was starting, plopping on the arm of the couch and snagging a piece of pizza. Apparently she loved the first one, but the second was, she informed them through a mouthful of bread and cheese, ‘hot garbage’. It didn’t take Eli long to decide he agreed, and the two of them kept up a running stream of commentary for the rest of the movie that had Alex struggling to hold back his laughter. Mal kept wandering into the room, pretending he was looking for this or that until Ava finally shoved the rest of the pizza at him and told him to sit down and watch the damn movie. He didn’t say a word for the rest of the night, but Alex heard him snickering while Eli and Ava ripped apart plot device after plot device. Afterwards, Eli wanted to show him a different movie, something about killer mermaids, but it was already getting close to midnight, and Alex was starting to pass out. They agreed to watch it later in the week, and Eli sent him on his way with a bucket full of fresh tomatoes, claiming that they were trying to take over the garden.

It was weird, Alex thought as he lingered by the fence. Weird how easy it had been, how normal it felt to sit in their living room eating junk food and listening to them laugh like he’d known them forever. He hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to Eli about Sebastian, but it didn’t really seem to matter now. He was probably reading into things, anyway. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a stocky silhouette in the doorway, light spilling around it onto the porch. It waved. In the pocket of his shorts, Alex’s phone buzzed. He fished it out. Two unread texts from Haley, and two from Eli, sent just seconds earlier.

Thanks for coming over.

Stay safe. :)

And even though Pelican Town was the safest place in the world to be walking home at midnight and there was absolutely no reason to be concerned, Alex found that he didn’t really mind as much as he thought he would.

*

Summer was more than halfway gone now, the days grappling to hold on even as they began to shorten, and little by little, the ache in Alex’s chest began to fade. He didn’t like fall as much as he liked spring, and winter was awful, but summer held too many memories. It was easier to breathe when it was over. The bucket of tomatoes sat on the kitchen counter, dwindling day by day while his grandma cooked – spaghetti with fresh sauce, bruschetta, her famous tomato jam, salads upon salads until Alex never wanted to see another tomato in his life. He said as much to Eli, who only laughed and asked if he wanted homemade pizza.

“You’re a monster,” Alex told him, which only made him laugh harder.

They’d been talking pretty much every day since then. Talking wasn’t the right word, maybe; Eli had picked up that text was harder for Alex than spoken word, and switched to sending him pictures with the occasional caption or question. He never said anything about it, and Alex kind of wanted to hate him for it, but then Eli would message him snapshots – the kitten playing on the porch, blueberry bushes as tall as the hedges with the caption “pie time”, himself, Leah and Ava filthy and grinning, the final melon harvest of the season stacked at their feet – and whatever momentary suspicions he had would fade into the background. He sent pictures back sometimes: Dusty chasing a stick down the beach, Vincent and Jas eating ice cream by the stand, a bunch of coral that washed up by Elliott’s cabin, pink and orange and red like sunrise. He wondered if Eli thought he was just a big dumb jock. What he would say if he knew Alex had shelves full of books he’d never read, and that the fancy indie music he’d recommended was sidelined in favor of Top 40 Country and Rock hits that didn’t make Alex think too much. Would he still want to talk to Alex then? And more importantly, when had Alex started caring?

He was still trying to learn guitar. It was going to be another thing he ended up failing at, no matter what Eli said, but it didn’t hurt the same way losing gridball games or flunking tests did. He guessed it was different when you were expecting to fail. Mostly, though, he kept trying because he could talk Eli into playing, and there was always something about the songs he chose that made Alex want to bask in the heart of them, warm and safe. Eli was careful to only play happy songs around him, he noticed after a while, but when he brought it up, all he got was a shrug.

“I don’t like making people cry.”

They were hanging out on the dock at Cindersap Lake, legs dangling over the pier. Ava and Leah sat crowded on the other side, shoulders touching as their fishing poles bobbed – they’d found Herb’s old gear that morning in the shed, and somehow Alex had ended up tagging along while Leah tried to teach the siblings to fish with limited success. He’d never expected to find himself seeing this much of Leah, but she and Ava were apparently joined at the hip now, because she was there every time he turned around. He shook his head now, leaning back on his elbows. The sun was hot on his skin.

“You wouldn’t make me cry.”

“It’s not a challenge,” Eli said, sounding amused. Behind them, Ava whispered something to Leah, who laughed.

“I’m just saying.” Crying was something you did in the privacy of your own shame, not shared with other people. “I mean, how many times have you played for future gridball stars? There’s no crying on the field.”

“It’s music, not gridball.”

“Fine, then play me something sad sometime. You’ll see.”

“What, so you can prove how manly you are?” Eli snorted. “Nah, dude. Crying is good for you. We all gotta do it sometimes. I just don’t like being the one responsible for it.”

“Oh shit!” The dock shook a little, wood creaking as Ava scrambled to her feet. Her line unspooled with a high-pitched hum. “I got a bite!” When she grabbed the reel, the whole rod strained, line vibrating as the creature on the other end fought to keep going. “Fuck, this thing is strong – “ A cracking sound cut her off, the pier shaking, and Alex twisted around to see her being dragged forward even as she fought to keep her footing. Her boots skidded along the wood. “A little help?”

“Hold on!” Leah hopped to her feet and wrapped her arms around Ava’s waist, trying to hold steady. The tip of the rod bobbed madly, and then both women were being tugged forward, even as Leah dug her heels in. Alex and Eli both scrambled upright.

For the next few moments, a bizarre game of tug-o-war took place, both sides fighting to pull the other over the line. Ava was breathing hard, her arms shaking with the effort of holding the reel in place – Alex could feel it all the way through Leah, and Eli could probably feel it too, since he was pressed up against Alex’s back, reaching past him to hang onto Leah like some sort of clumsy three-way hug. His breath was hot between Alex’s shoulder blades.

“I don’t know how much longer I can hold on,” Ava grunted. The water below churned, frothing around the pier, and in the sunlight there was a glint of scale as something cut through the water, silvery-green. There was one more enormous burst of energy, one more pull, and then the reel was unspooling again and all four of them were dragged off the pier and into the water, one right after the other.

There was no fish to be found, when they all dragged themselves back to shore, sopping wet and baffled. The line had snapped. “I’ve never seen a fish do that before,” Leah said, looking at the rod in awe while she wrung out her hair. Ava made a face at the broken reel.

“What was that?”

“No idea.”

“You know, I don’t even like fish that much,” Eli said after a pause, and that was that. They all walked back to the farm together, letting the afternoon sun dry their clothes, and Alex decided not to bring up sad songs to Eli again. Anyone who thought crying was good for you was clearly nuts.

*

Bad movie nights started to become a thing. Not officially, but every few days Eli would message him a picture of some DVD called Cannibal Lawyers or Shark Exorcism and ask if he was free, and Alex inevitably found himself at the farm. Sometimes Ava or Mal would join them, but mostly it was just him and Eli and an empty seat between them on the couch while the newest selection from the siblings’ enormous B-rated horror collection played, each cheesier and more low-budget than the last. Not to be outdone, he started bringing his own contributions, usually something from the ‘car chase and explosions’ genre. Thankfully, Eli liked those too, and even had a few of his own. That particular evening’s fare was Face/On, which he’d declared a masterpiece of garbage theater – “a trashterpiece, if you will” – and Alex decided halfway through that he agreed.

“Like, that scene in the church with the… what would you even call that?”

“Knife bazooka.”

“Yeah, that. And the twenty-minute speedboat chase. Where do you even find this stuff?”

“Lots of places. Used media store by my old place in Zuzu, mostly.” Eli stretched. Alex caught the wince before he could hide it.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just sore.” He laughed a little, sheepish. “Farm life is no joke.”

“You try the spa yet?”

“The spa?”

“Up on the mountain, past Sebastian’s house. Nobody told you about it?” Eli shook his head. “You should check it out. There’s a gym and stuff, but most people just go for the bathhouse. Helps with the sore muscles after a good workout.”

“Huh. Maybe, yeah.”

“I go sometimes after I run,” Alex offered. “You could come with me.”

Something like panic flashed across Eli’s face, illuminated by the stark blue wash of the TV screen, and he let out a forced laugh. “That’s… yeah. Nice of you, but I’m okay. Just a little sore. It’ll pass.”

“Okay,” Alex said slowly, and Eli grabbed the remote and turned the TV off, plunging the room into sudden darkness.

“Sorry to cut this short, but I’m pretty beat. Think I’m gonna call it a night.”

Alex’s first instinct was to wonder what he’d done, followed by a burst of confused irritation, because as far as he knew, he hadn’t done anything, and Eli was treating him like he’d taken a shit on the rug. “Okay,” he said again, and it must have come through in his voice, because Eli’s tone softened. Only the faint outline of his profile was visible in the moonlight filtering through the window.

“Sorry. I’m just really wiped out.”

“Whatever, man. It’s cool.” Alex climbed off the couch, avoiding the kitten as it trotted past his feet to hop into Eli’s lap. He wondered if Eli was ever going to give it a name. “I should probably go anyway.”

It was the first time Eli didn’t walk him out, and he left with a terrible certainty in his gut, weighing on him like a stone. The porchlight buzzed and flickered in his peripheral, then abruptly went out.

Sebastian told him.

*

He should have expected it. He’d been lucky Sebastian kept his mouth shut as long as he did, considering what it would have cost him back in high school, but that didn’t stop it from eating away at him. Now that Eli knew, how long before someone else did? And yeah, okay, he didn’t know for sure that Eli knew, but it made sense. Why else would he have reacted the way he did, unless he thought Alex was coming onto him? A part of him – a small, bitter part he squashed as soon as it surfaced – was almost offended at being rejected by an openly gay man.

Well, not rejected. He hadn’t been offering.

But still.

Eli texted him a couple of days later. Alex didn’t reply. He didn’t go to the farm. He stuck to running on the beach and lifting weights at the spa and hanging out with Haley at the ice cream stand, easy, familiar routines that kept him from thinking about it. Ignoring things he didn’t want to think about usually worked pretty well, and it did work, right up until Friday came rolling around.

Friday itself wasn’t the problem. Friday was fine, sunny and mild. But Friday nights were when everyone descended on the saloon like a pack of vultures to drink away the stresses of the week, and light and music and laughter took over the square, spilling into his yard whenever anyone opened the door. It made Alex’s skin crawl. Sure, it seemed welcoming from the outside, but he wasn’t fooled. It was a haven for people like his dad and Pam, while their families were left out in the cold. But on that particular Friday, coming back from walking Dusty, the lights drew him in, and he found himself peering through one of the windows around back, directly into the game room.

It was crowded, shabby but cheerfully lit, and Eli stood between Ava and Sebastian at the pool table, cue in hand. Abigail was sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone while Sam lined up his shot, head bowed in concentration. Sebastian said something that made the rest of them laugh and Sam give him the finger, and Alex backed away from the window, feeling like he’d seen something he wasn’t meant to see. Across the street, light shone through the curtains at his grandparents’ place – watching the evening news before bed, most likely. He wound up sitting on the stoop, throwing a stick for Dusty to chase so he didn’t go inside and ruin their night. It wasn’t their fault he was fucked up.

How long he sat there, he didn’t know, but it was fully dark by the time the saloon door swung open and Eli and Sebastian came stumbling out, arms slung across each other’s shoulders. They were flushed from the drinking and the laughter; a packet of cigarettes dangled from Sebastian’s fingers. A sick feeling pooled in Alex’s gut.

“I can’t believe you actually got him to agree to that,” Eli was saying, but he slowed when he saw Alex, steps faltering. “Oh, hey dude. What’s up?” Sebastian didn’t say anything, face so blank he might as well have been staring off into thin air, and the sick, ugly feeling crawled up Alex’s throat and knotted so tight it made him dizzy. My mom is dead, it said for him. She’s dead and my dad put poison in me and you’re just letting him touch you.

“Nothing.” He got to his feet, and Dusty came bounding out of the darkness, stick in his jaws. He dropped it when he saw Eli and Sebastian and pranced forward, barking excitedly, but Alex snagged his leash and brought him to a halt. “C’mon, boy. Time to go back in the yard.”

Eli swayed a little, leaning on Sebastian. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” He gave the leash another tug. Dusty’s tail drooped, but he followed Alex to the gate all the same, dragging his paws every step of the way.

“Alex,” Eli started, and there was a metallic click as Sebastian lit a cigarette.

“Let it go,” he said. “I told you.”

Alex fumbled with the latch, fingers sweaty and slick, and shoved the gate open. He didn’t look back when he slammed it behind him. Dusty flopped down in front of the doghouse, gnawing on one of the toys scattered across the lawn, and Alex unclipped his leash from his collar and took it inside, leaving his shoes next to the door.

“Where have you been?” his grandpa asked as he passed by the living room, turning down the volume on the TV. He and Alex’s grandma sat together on the couch, his arm around her shoulders. “It’s late.”

“Out walking Dusty.” He kept his face turned away. One look and his grandma would know something was wrong. She always did. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Are you sure you don’t want dinner? There’s leftovers in the fridge.”

“No thanks, Grandma. Goodnight.”

“I worry about that boy, Evie,” Alex heard his grandpa mutter as he climbed the stairs, and his grandma’s answer came out as a sigh, nearly lost to the sound of the show.

“Me too, George. Me too.”

Notes:

CW: Homophobic slurs/internalized homophobia.

Chapter 11: Eleven

Chapter Text

Congratulations! You’re an idiot.

The valve squeaked when Eli turned the shower off and climbed out, dripping all over the bathmat. “Don’t rub it in,” he grumbled at his reflection. It stared back with tired eyes, beard matted and hair plastered to its skull. He turned away and toweled off, then got dressed and brushed his teeth, all while Alex floated through his head – Alex laughing, Alex in his swim trunks in the woods, Alex’s face when Eli and Sebastian had walked out of the saloon together. Fucking Alex. He rinsed his mouth and spat, watching the toothpaste circle the drain.

“Hey,” Mal said when he came slumping into the kitchen a few minutes later, damp and bleary-eyed. “Beer should be ready by the end of the week.”

“Really? That didn’t take long.”

“As long as nothing goes wrong, yeah. Should be all set.” Mal leaned against the counter, stirring his breakfast. He’d been eating the same thing every morning since they were kids – yogurt, granola and peanut butter all slopped together into a bowl and topped with sliced fruit. Eli thought it was disgusting, but at least Mal was subsisting on something besides coffee. He’d been skipping meals again. “I need you to taste it and tell me how it is.”

“You’re using Pops’ recipe, right?” Ava asked. Mal nodded. “Trust me, don’t worry about it. It’ll be good.”

“Hope so,” Mal muttered.

The rest of the day was spent on maintenance. The weekly weeding and tilling of the garden needed to be done, along with clearing accumulated debris from the paths, and then there was the matter of the fence, its posts rotted and warped by years of neglect. They needed to be replaced as soon as possible, and Eli was glad for the chance to take his mind off any and all things related to Alex, no matter how back-breaking the work. Of course, it was only a temporary measure, and under cover of darkness it all came back at a steady trickle, until his head was full to bursting.

Yeah, so he’d been a little abrupt when Alex brought up the spa. He still wasn’t about to explain why he didn’t want anyone seeing him shirtless, and that was beside the point. What did Alex think he was going to do? Tell everyone about something that happened back in high school? Laugh at him? Even if he hadn’t come to terms with his sexuality – which he clearly hadn’t – he should have figured that Eli was the last person who’d judge him for it. And despite all of those clear and solid reasons to stay away, a warning light flashed persistently in the back of his head: Alex likes guys, Alex likes guys.

As if it mattered. He’d had more than his share of insecure men – men who wanted to fuck him but wouldn’t date him, men who wanted to experiment, men who thought he should act a certain way and like certain things; men who saw him as a curiosity, something to be claimed and tallied and put in a trophy case so they could prove how open-minded they were. He didn’t need to add another one to the list. And still, all he could picture was Alex’s tear-stained face, over and over again, burning into the backs of his eyelids. Eventually he fell into an uneasy sleep, and dreamed.

*

In the dream it was winter, but unlike any he’d ever faced. No cold, no wind, and the snow fell soft and warm on his skin like a blanket of cotton. Everything was eerily white. When he stepped off the porch and into the driveway, the refracting light blinded him. He thought it was the sun, but he couldn’t be too sure. Not in dreams. When he turned around, the farmhouse was gone, and instead he was peering up at his old brick-and-mortar apartment building in Zuzu, faded awning heavy with snow. When the door chimed, swinging open, Eli was hit with a wave of homesickness so strong it almost brought him to his knees. He blinked back saltwater tears as the flurries whistled thick around him, until all he could see was the whiteness. When it cleared, he was standing on the path to Cindersap, its treetops in full green bloom. His feet moved with purpose, like they weren’t even his, and before he could stop them they carried him through those tangled boughs and into summer.

In here it was lush, private, sunlight pouring like butter through oak and maple leaves, and the air heavy and syrup-sweet, thick enough that time oozed to a standstill while Eli drifted along the winding dirt road. He was following the birds. Sweat gathered in the small of his back and stung his eyes, but he wiped it away and trudged on, trilling calls bursting in his ears. Cindersap’s footpaths were many and well-traveled, but Eli’s body seemed to know where they were headed, even if he didn’t. He skirted the silver expanse of the lake, water lapping at the pier, then found himself moving beyond, until he came to a thicket where the trees bottlenecked into a narrow mouth, choked by thorny bushes and broken-tooth stumps. He vaguely recognized where he was now – normally an enormous, felled oak blocked off the road beyond here, but this time there was nothing to stop him, and so on he went, deeper into the woods.

The grove at the end of the path was quiet as a held breath. Even the grass beneath his shoes didn’t make a sound, and sunlight filtered through the trees, casting the scene in a warm golden glow. A little further down he found a pond, banks verdant, and beyond that an ancient, crumbling shrine. Who or what it belonged to, he didn’t know – the weathered figure at its center was covered in moss and vines, overgrown beyond recognition. He did, however, recognize the figure kneeling at its feet, and the muted shock that ran through him was off somehow, like it belonged to someone else.

“Mal?”

No response. Eli crouched down next to him. It was unmistakably his brother, but the ten-year-old version of him that lived in Eli’s memories – shaggy black hair, still-round cheeks, solemn gray eyes. When he saw Eli, he put a finger to his lips. Eli nodded. Even though it was a dream, it felt like he should listen. He shifted into a kneeling position, and Mal resumed what he’d been doing, hands folded in front of him and face scrunched in absolute concentration. It took Eli a second to realize he was praying.

It was only a dream, he reminded himself, but that did nothing to change how real it felt. Grass tickled his bare shins, crushed beneath his knees, and the silence was becoming oppressive, weighing on the air. Even his eyelids felt heavy. He blinked, and Mal tugged at his sleeve.

“Look,” he whispered.

The vines clinging to the statue had begun to bloom, pink buds sprouting up all over the shrine and in the earth at its feet. Slowly at first, leaves flourishing, then faster, petals unfurling until the whole thing was blanketed in flowers. One of them kept growing up from the grass, stalk rising above the rest until it was at eye level; when it opened, it revealed a deep red fruit at its center, glossy and plump. The fragrance emanating forth was indescribably sweet, and Eli’s mouth watered, stomach growling. He and Mal looked at each other, then reached out as one in unspoken agreement. They plucked it, near the size of Eli’s fist, and the scent grew stronger still, thick enough to make his head swim.

His alarm went off.

He sat bolt upright, blankets flying off the end of the couch and phone shrilling in his ear. The kitten meowed in protest from the windowsill, tail twitching. He shut it off and rubbed at his eyes, squinting into the sunlight. It was already streaming through the blinds, and when he clicked the screen on, his phone informed him it was already seven. His last-ditch alarm had been the one to wake him. He was checking to make sure he hadn’t accidentally shut the others off when he heard the bedroom door open at the other end of the hall. Mal appeared in the doorway a few seconds later, shirtless and befuddled with his hair sticking up all on one side. Eli stared. He stared back.

“Were you – “

“Did we – “

They both stopped. Stared again.

“I thought…” Mal raked his hands through his hair. It did nothing to improve his situation. “The woods?”

Eli nodded.

Silence descended. Mal scratched the back of his neck. “Felt pretty damn real.”

“Yeah.” Before he’d even really thought about it: “You got any plans today?”

“Not really. Why?”

Eli glanced out the window, across the backyard and rolling green-gold of the cornfield to the treetops rising like cumulus clouds, where the woods began.

“We should go hiking,” he said.

*

The weather was warm, but not scorching, and Cindersap itself was balmy in the shade. Parrots whistled overhead, hidden in the foliage, and chattered whenever Eli whistled back.

“Is there somewhere specific you want to go?” Leah called over her shoulder. She’d been sketching outside her cabin when they’d shown up, but set it aside readily enough when Eli explained that they needed a guide, saying she’d been planning on a hike later anyway. “I think morels might be out of season by now, but there’s a nice little patch of wild blueberries not far from here.”

“Actually, I did have somewhere in mind.” A stone jutted up from the road. He kicked it, sent it skittering off into the roots of a nearby pine. “I, uh… don’t know if you know it, but there’s a grove around here somewhere with a pond and a shrine. Would you be able to show us the way?”

Leah gave him an odd look. “I know it,” she said after a moment. “I’m surprised you do, though.”

Eli shrugged, offered up a weak smile. “Would you believe me if I said I went there in a dream?”

“Oh. Sure,” she said, without a trace of sarcasm, and veered right, where the path was well-worn into the grass. “Come on, it’s just past the lake.”

They walked in silence for some time, Eli keeping up with Leah while Ava and Mal trailed behind them, talking in hushed tones. Mostly it was Ava talking – Mal kept looking around, flinching whenever a twig snapped or a bird cried too loudly, and Eli remembered that it was the first time he’d left the farm since their arrival. It was heartening, in a sad sort of way. Hopefully the exploration would do him some good.

They passed a different shrine along the way, still overgrown but newer, built beneath a little stone arch between two trees. A hooded figure stood in its center, and the parrots had flocked to it, preening their feathers while they perched on its shoulders and outstretched arm. Something about it piqued Eli’s curiosity, and he slowed, lingering in front of it. There was some kind of script chiseled into the base, but he didn’t recognize the language. Leah must have caught him looking, because she doubled back to join him.

“They’re shrines to the forest spirits,” she said. “Protectors of the land. There are a bunch of them around here.”

Eli pointed at the script. “Do you know what that says?”

“No idea. I’ve tried doing some research at the library here, but there’s almost nothing. Just a couple books about old traditions from the people who first settled here.”

“Hey,” Ava called. She and Mal were lingering further up the path. “You guys coming?”

“Yeah, we’re coming,” Eli called back, and they went, but not without one last look. The parrots all watched him, silent for once. He turned back and hurried on.

It was barely eleven by the time they reached the lake, and Leah took them even further, down the overgrown road Eli recognized from his dream. There was the oak, taller than he was even on its side, blocking off the rest of the path. Leah dug a pair of gloves out of her back pocket.

“Watch out for splinters.”

As it turned out, the roots were sturdy enough to scale, and one by one they climbed over, landing in the soft loam on the other side. Here there was almost no path at all, any sign of human influence eradicated by time and nature’s reclamation, and Leah brushed her hands off on her jeans.

“We’re close now.”

“Better be,” Mal muttered, digging a splinter out of his palm.

Nobody said much after that. The atmosphere had grown heavier, trees looming overhead, and it seemed wrong, somehow, to break the silence. The long grass pricked at Eli’s bare calves as he followed Leah, heart beating faster for no reason he could discern, and up ahead the trail blossomed into a grove.

There were differences, of course – faint birdsong, a rushing of water and wind in the leaves that hadn’t been present before – but it was unmistakably the same place from his dream, down to the crumbling shrine mounted beneath the maple trees. Eli caught Mal’s eye, received an almost-imperceptible nod in return. The breeze came again, stronger this time. His skin prickled.

“This is cool,” Ava said, breaking the silence. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and turned in a slow circle, head cocked. “Is this the place?”

“Yeah.” Mal was staring at the shrine, eyes glazed over. “This is it.”

She nudged him. “You okay? You’ve got that weird look again.”

“I’m fine. Just…” He exhaled. “Feels like I’ve been here before.”

“Have you?” Eli asked, curious now.

“Don’t think so.”

“Huh,” Ava said. “So, what now?”

Eli and Mal exchanged glances.

“I don’t know,” Eli admitted finally. “It just felt like we should come check it out, since we had the same dream and all.”

Leah had been quiet up until them, standing at the edge of the pond, but now she looked over, braid sliding off her shoulder. “What happened in your dream?”

Mal jammed his hands in his pockets, looking more uncomfortable than ever. “I was praying,” he said gruffly.

“Praying,” Ava repeated, then shrugged. “Well, go ahead and try it, yeah? Can’t hurt.”

“Fine.” Mal’s shoulders were up in the vicinity of his ears at this point, which had turned bright red. “Just don’t watch me do it.” All three of them looked at him then, and the flush spilled down his neck. “It’s fucking private, alright?”

Alright, damn. We won’t look,” Ava said, and rolled her eyes at Eli as she turned around. “Go do your thing.”

Eli hadn’t realized Mal took prayer so seriously, and it unsettled him, even as he looked away. It seemed like the kind of thing someone ought to know about their own brother. Their upbringing had never been particularly religious, even though their mom went to church most Sundays and played bridge with the women’s group every other week – outside of remembering their ancestors on Spirit’s Eve and celebrating Winter Star, their dad hadn’t seemed to care much one way or the other, and Eli had never found much use for a god that would screw him over before he was even born. Had Mal always been a believer, or had it manifested after the accident? He found he didn’t know. Before he had time to feel properly ashamed, Mal’s voice cut through the silence.

“Hey.”

They all looked. Mal knelt at the base of the shrine, prodding at something Eli couldn’t see. “I don’t think I need to,” he said.

Between the cracks in the broken stone, a plant had sprouted, still tender and new. Too young to bear fruit, but unmistakably the same kind as the one they’d dreamt, green and sweetly fragrant. Leah shook her head in wonder, reaching out to touch one of its leaves.

“Sweet gem berries… I’ve heard these grow around here, but I’ve never seen one in the wild. They’re rare.”

Ava glanced at her. “They are?”

She nodded. “This is the only place in the Ferngill Republic where they grow naturally. The government actually had to pass sanctions back in the eighties to keep people from over-harvesting them, since the foot traffic was disrupting the environment. It got pretty messy.” They were all staring at her now, and she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, looking faintly embarrassed. “I did a lot of research before I came here.”

“Well, holy shit,” Ava said, marveling down at it. “What do we do now?”

“Last time I checked, a bottle of gem berry wine goes for a couple grand on the open market,” Leah said. Mal made a choked-off noise in the back of his throat. “That’d be enough to keep the farm going through the winter, maybe even start expanding it. Get the place fixed up.” She shrugged. “Just a thought.”

“A fucking brilliant thought,” Ava said. She was wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat she’d found in the hall closet, to keep the sun off her face, and she took it off now, flipping it upside-down. “Here. I have an idea.”

They hadn’t brought tools, but it didn’t matter; they dug into the earth with their bare hands, widening a hole around the plant until they could lift it out gently, roots still packed in dirt. Soil caked Eli’s nails and stained his knuckles black, itching at him. He wiped them on his jeans and fell in step with Leah, Ava and Mal a little ahead of them. The plant bobbed where it sprouted up from Ava’s hat, leaves fluttering.

“Hey,” he said, and Leah glanced at him. “This isn’t, like, illegal, right? Us replanting it on the farm?”

“Not as long as it stays in the Valley, last I checked.”

“Cool.” The dirt refused to come off. He quit scrubbing at his knuckles, dropped his hands by his side. “Thank you, by the way. Seriously. You’ve helped us a lot.” Cleared his throat, laughed a little awkwardly. “Not that you needed to, or anything, just… yeah. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. It’s really no trouble, though.” She smiled, and Eli didn’t miss the way her eyes drifted to Ava’s back. “I remember when it was like when I first moved here, away from everything. Having friends makes it easier.”

“For sure.” He paused. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead."

“Why here?”

“Oh, you know,” she said lightly. “Just looking for a change of pace.”

Eli didn’t quite believe her, but her tone suggested she’d rather move on, and her business was her business. He dropped it in favor of something more pressing.

“So, when you first moved, did you have any weird dreams like that?”

“Right before, actually. I dreamt I was swimming in the lake. It was… peaceful. Exactly what I needed at the time.” She smiled dreamily. “This place has a way of doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Giving you what you need.” Up ahead, Ava laughed at something Mal said, too faint for Eli to make out. Leah shaded her eyes with her hand, tilting her face towards the sky. “It’s not always what you want,” she said. “But it’s usually what you need.”

*

The grime sluiced off in the shower. The exhaustion didn’t. Eli dragged himself out and got dressed, head swimming. He still wasn’t sure what to make of any of it – the dream, the conversation he’d had with Leah, the repotted plant now living on the back porch – other than feeling grateful that it’d kept him from thinking about Alex all afternoon. Ava and Mal were in the kitchen making dinner, cabinets banging and the dull thud of knives on wood audible at the other end of the hall. He still had one joint left. Pocketed it and grabbed his guitar from its case in the living room, slinging the strap over his shoulder.

“I’m going out, be back soon,” he yelled as he passed the kitchen, and the banging of the screen door drowned out whatever he got in reply.

It was starting to get dark out, fireflies lighting up the field like fallen stars. The neck of Eli’s guitar bounced off his shoulder with every step. Leah’s words from earlier nagged at him, buzzing in his ears like gnats, though he couldn’t quite say why. Maybe because he had no idea what he wanted lately, let alone needed. Mostly he was tired and had a headache, and he wanted to smoke until he burned all thoughts of Alex and dreams and rare plants out of his head for the rest of the night. He was digging the joint out of his pocket when he ducked inside the greenhouse and found Maru and Penny kissing, wrapped up in each other beneath the old oak tree.

There was a lot of swearing and dropping of things and surprised yelping, after which all three of them stared at each other from opposite sides of the greenhouse, Eli uncertain and Maru and Penny wary. They were still holding hands.

“I had no idea this was the town hotspot,” he said finally, and they looked at each other, equal parts confused and worried.

“Sorry,” Penny said, so soft he could barely hear her. “We didn’t think there’d be anyone out here this late.”

“Nah, it’s fine. We’re not using it. Obviously.” He popped the joint into his mouth, lit up. “So, which one of you has the homophobic parents?”

“Neither of us!” Maru blurted, hand tightening around Penny’s. “At least, I don’t think so.”

“I hope not.” Penny sounded less than convinced, her eyes downcast. “But Mom… I honestly don’t know what she’d say. She doesn’t like it when I date, and she’s always home, so…”

“Dad doesn’t want me dating at all, either,” Maru added, exasperated. “If he had his way, he’d just lock me in the lab until I finish my PhD.”

“We’ve been meeting here for a few months, since nobody really came here before you moved in.” Even in the darkness, Penny’s blush was visible. “I guess we were hoping you wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t.” Eli exhaled, smoke gushing from his nostrils. “I just wasn’t expecting company.”

“Sorry, we can go – “

“Seriously, it’s fine. I’ll hang out somewhere else for a while.” He gave the joint another puff. “Ava and I come out here sometimes, but usually not until after dinner. Just a heads up.”

“Oh,” Penny said, brightening. The relief on Maru’s face was palpable.

“So, you won’t say anything?”

“About what? I didn’t see anything.” He waggled the joint at them. “As long as you didn’t.”

“How could we see anything?” Maru gave him a little smile. “We were never here.”

He couldn’t imagine being afraid of what his parents thought of his choice in partner, Eli thought later, sitting on an old tree stump near the cornfield, but it was probably different in a small town like theirs. Then again, he’d already resigned himself to never quite being who his parents wanted him to be, no matter how well they tried to hide it. It was probably also different when you were still living with them. Either way, it wasn’t his place to judge.

“What a fucking day,” he said aloud, and watched the smoke from his words curl up toward the night sky, ribbon-like, thinner and thinner until it vanished from sight.

Chapter 12: Twelve

Notes:

Content warning and author's note in the end notes.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Eli named the kitten Peach.

“That’s weird,” Alex said when he found out. Eli shrugged and bumped their shoulders together, unashamed.

“You’re weird.”

They were hanging out again—that, Alex thought, was the really weird part. They didn’t talk about the past, or that night outside the saloon and the days of radio silence after. They ran into each other a week later, while Alex was out walking Dusty. Eli had fallen into step with them without asking and offered to show him the wild blackberry patch he’d discovered, and next thing Alex knew they were sitting in the long yellow grass on the outskirts of the farm, throwing berries into each other’s mouths and seeing who could catch more. They didn’t talk about any of it, just went back to hanging out like they had been before, and Alex was pathetically grateful for it. Haley didn’t have a problem pointing out his shortcomings; it was nice to have a friend who let him fuck up in peace.

It was, of course, Haley’s fault what happened next. She never should have let him borrow her laptop.

They were hanging out at her place, music playing on the radio and windows open. Haley sorted through her latest batch of photos at her vanity, and Alex laid on her bed with the computer on his stomach, scrolling through the latest gridball stats for the Eastern and Western leagues. But looking at gridball reminded him that tryouts were only a few months away and his head started to hurt, and then he remembered something Eli had said the day before, about his old band back in Zuzu—their one big performance at some kind of benefit, and the wild afterparty where he’d met his gridball-loving ex. Jesse. A douchey name if he’d ever heard one. He’d assumed Eli would date hipster musicians or artists—guys like Sebastian, his traitor brain supplied helpfully—but Jesse sounded more like the type of guy Alex would have hung out with in high school, and next thing he knew he was typing “sparklefucker band” into the search bar.

There were more results than he expected. It took a few minutes of scrolling before he found what he was looking for, and when he clicked the link, a picture filled the screen: a sea of raised hands and a glimpse of a stage, bathed in rainbow lights. Skimming the article told him that the benefit in question, made up of mostly local bands, had been to raise money for a center dedicated to ‘serving homeless LGBTQ+ youth’ in downtown Zuzu. His gaze snagged on a paragraph near the bottom.

“The community was really welcoming, you know, really supportive when I first came out and was looking for resources,” said Eli Lyndon, lead singer and guitarist for Sparklebanger [actual name unsuitable for print]. “I feel like it’s our responsibility as queer people, as trans people, to take care of one another, and it’s nice to have an opportunity to pay some of that forward.”

Alex read it a couple more times, confusion mixed with something darker swirling in his aching head. Queer people, trans people, ‘our’ responsibility—what did that mean? Trans sounded familiar, but it conjured up vague images of men in dresses and the way his dad sneered at the TV about degenerates, and somehow Alex didn’t think that was what it meant when Eli said it. He searched some more and found a picture of the band hanging out, an old Instagram photo from when the account was first created years earlier. It took him a second to recognize Eli. The guy in the photo was baby-faced and clean-shaven, curly hair short on the sides and eyes hidden by an enormous pair of sunglasses, face scrunched with laughter. It had to be Eli, since nobody else in the photo looked even remotely similar, but he looked like a teenager. The pin on his jacket caught Alex’s eye: pink and blue stripes, with a white bar down the center. It looked like a sign of some kind, or a flag, but not for anything he recognized. He read the article one last time, then typed ‘trans people’ into the search bar this time and hit ‘enter’, his hands inexplicably sweaty. The browser loaded, and there it was, staring back at him in stark blue and white.

Did you mean: transgender people?

He scrolled, heart beating funny, like it couldn’t quite decide how fast it should go. Links filled the page: articles about transgender people from something called the Trans Equality Center, an FAQ, a clickbait listicle about “Famous Celebrities You Didn’t Know Were Transgender!”, the Wikipedia entry—he hovered his cursor over each one, but couldn’t quite bring himself to click. In the end, he decided on Wikipedia. It seemed the safest for someone who knew nothing, and with a deep breath, he hit the link.

Transgender people have a gender identity or gender expression that differs from their sex assigned at birth…

For the first time in his life, he couldn’t stop reading, even though his eyes were starting to water and his brain was yelling at him to back out of it while he still could, before he went too far. Apparently, it had been a thing for a long time—much longer than the fifteen minutes he’d become acutely aware of it—and it had nothing to do with whether you were gay or straight. After he read through the linked entry on trans men, he clicked back over to the interview and read Eli’s comment again.

Our responsibility as queer people, as trans people…

That settled it, didn’t it? Eli wouldn’t have said it like that, let a reporter quote him like that, if he wasn’t—

“What are you reading?”

Alex jumped, head snapping up from the screen as he shut the web browser. Haley leaned back in her chair, eyeing him suspiciously.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” He scrambled for an excuse. “Tunnellers are down in the league again.”

“Boring.” Haley set the rest of her photos aside, stretching and yawning. “Wanna watch a movie?”

“Sure,” Alex said, just a little too quickly, and slammed the laptop shut.

*

Eli should have told him.

The thought rattled around in his head like a loose can, anger simmering in its wake. Why would you tell someone you were gay, but not trans? It didn’t make any sense. Alex had the right to know if he was hanging out with somebody like—like that. A guy who used to be a girl, who only liked men; did that really make him gay? The articles he’d read had talked about taking hormones to make your body match your mind, but it wasn’t like testosterone magically got rid of boobs or vaginas, and from what Alex knew about gay guys, they didn’t like either of those things. How did the sex work, if Eli—

He shut the thought down before he went any further, stomach roiling. He knew he didn’t really have any right to be angry. The internet had been clear that trans people were real, not delusional or sick, and even clearer on the fact that not everyone agreed. That it wasn’t always safe to tell people. So if Eli was who he said he was, then there was nothing to be angry about; it wasn’t like he’d lied. And yet some part of Alex felt lied to, felt like he ought to be disgusted, because you couldn’t just do that, could you? Shed your old body and life for a newer, better one, leaving the past behind? He came to a stop at the bridge, one foot on the slats. He’d been walking without really paying attention to where he was headed, and now he stood between town and the beach, conflicted. He couldn’t go home while he was dealing with this, his grandma would know something was up, but he wasn’t in the mood for the beach, and if he went to the woods he might run into Eli, and he’d always known Pelican Town was small but just then it felt like a bear trap. He wiped his hands on his jeans and stared at the rushing water beneath him, trying to calm down. He was still trying when the distant sound of familiar laughter sent his heartbeat into overdrive.

Eli and Elliott were coming out of the library when Alex peered around the bridge post, talking animatedly. For a brief, horrifying second, he thought they were heading his way, but no, they were just settling down on one of the benches near the riverbend, below the smithy. They were too far away for him to hear their conversation, but Elliott’s hands darted and gestured as he spoke, and Eli was clearly enjoying the story. He watched them for a minute, something ugly gnawing its way up from the pit of his stomach. Did Elliott know? Leah? Sebastian?

Was Alex the only person he hadn’t told?

He turned and walked away before they could spot him, heading for Cindersap. When he got there, he turned left, the opposite direction of the path to Whiskey Creek. The dark green canopy closing in overhead did nothing to improve his mood. There was something underneath the anger, something sharper and hotter, and he shoved it back down. He stumbled over a root that suddenly cropped up in his path and kicked it, hard, then stomped off the pathway. Branches snagged at him, and he shoved them out of his way as he went, breaking them indiscriminately. Parrots darted overhead, screeching in alarm.

He should just delete Eli’s number. He didn’t want to hang out with some girl who wanted to be a guy so bad she’d take drugs to look like one. It was a vicious thought, and he clung to it with a sick fury, even as he shuffled through memories of the past few weeks and found nothing. Nothing he could point to that said girl, or even feminine; nothing to contradict his knowledge of Eli as a man. Shame mingled with anger, cooling it into something heavy and dull, but he kept on walking. He couldn’t go back to town and risk facing Eli. Not now, and maybe not ever. He didn’t recognize the part of the woods he was in, but if you walked long enough you’d eventually find yourself somewhere, and twenty minutes later he emerged from the trees onto the grassy cliffs that overlooked the Gem Sea. His mom had forbidden him from going near them when he was a kid, afraid he might fall off, and he’d mostly stayed away. Now, though, there was no one to tell him otherwise, and he sat down at the edge, watching the fathomless blue-green waves roll in.

What now?

He waited, but no answer came, and eventually the sun sank over the water and the moon rose in its place, and he still had nothing. But he had to get home. He stood, brushing dirt off his jeans and the palms of his hands, breathing in the saltwater night. It was cool now, the sky a dark plum scattered with silver, but his heart still beat hot. Confusion and uneasy curiosity tangled together in his gut. What was he even supposed to do with this? Maybe he could just ask—he might have read the article wrong, come to the wrong conclusion. But if he was wrong, how would Eli react? He shook the thought off, like Dusty shaking off the ocean after a day at the beach. No, there was no way he could bring it up. He’d probably just have to avoid Eli forever, or at least until he figured out how he was supposed to feel. He kicked at a nearby rock, shoved his hands in his pockets.

It sucked. They’d been having a good time until then.

*

Everything was fine when he woke up; on the heels of sleep, yesterday’s revelation seemed more like a bad dream than a concrete fact, and Alex got up and stretched and told himself it wasn’t a big deal. That he’d be fine, and chill, and the day would be a good one. That attitude lasted until just after breakfast, when he stepped out of his house and saw Eli and Elliott chatting on the bridge and every single horrible feeling he’d been fighting the previous night lit up like a gasoline bonfire.

He'd meant to go for a run, but he couldn’t risk either of them seeing him, which left him lurking awkwardly behind the chokecherry bushes in the front yard until they finally quit yammering long enough to head towards the library. The smart thing to do would have been to run the other way, but nobody had ever accused Alex of being smart. He found himself doing his warm-ups against the bench out front a few minutes later, shaking out his shoulders and stretching his hamstrings even as the one remaining sensible part of his mind yelled at him to turn tail before it was too late. Then it really was too late and Eli was blinking at him from the stoop, the doors falling shut behind him.

“Alex?”

“Hey man,” Alex said automatically, and flinched. He hoped it wasn’t that obvious, but the word came out sharp-edged anyway, almost mocking, and Eli’s brows wrinkled.

“Hey,” he said, throwing a cautious glance over his shoulder. “What’s up?”

It was strange, second-guessing Eli as a ‘he’, but... 

He realized Eli was still staring at him and he had yet to answer the question.

“Nothing. Just, uh. Going for a run.” He raked sweaty fingers through his hair, and then, before he lost his nerve: “Didn’t know you and Elliott were hanging out so much.”

“A little bit, yeah,” Eli said, still looking concerned. “You okay? You seem kinda…” He trailed off, chewing his lower lip.

It was Alex’s turn to frown. “Kinda what?”

Eli was silent for a moment, then blew out a long breath. “You’ve been acting weird ever since you saw me and Sebastian hanging out the other night.” He wasn’t making eye contact anymore, gaze fixed where the sidewalk snaked around the bend. “I know you guys don’t really get along, but he’s my friend, too. I like him. I like Elliott, too, and I don’t know if you have some kind of problem with him but… it doesn’t have to be like this, y’know?”

There were words after I like him, but those weren’t ringing in Alex’s ears like church bells. I like Elliott, too. And maybe Eli didn’t mean it like that, but he was already hot and cold at the same time, not understanding why he even cared and desperate not to examine it further, and when he opened his mouth his dad’s voice came out instead.

“Do they know you’re not really a guy?”

*

Alex had been hit a lot in his life, so he knew what it looked like when a blow landed. Eli’s face looked like someone had socked him full on in the gut. Alex thought he might be sick. He wanted to reach out and grab the words, stuff them back in his mouth and grind them to dust between his teeth.

“What,” Eli said, “the fuck did you just say to me?”

*

In the end, Eli didn’t hit him. Alex kind of wished he would. It would have been easier to deal with.

“Goddamn Wikipedia,” he said, shaking his head. “You fucking asshole.” His voice was surprisingly calm, but the wobble at the end gave him away. “I kept telling myself it was a bad idea, trying to be friends with you, but no, I just had to set myself up for this one.”

I’m sorry, Alex wanted to say, but his tongue stayed glued to the roof of his mouth.

“For the record, who I tell about my medical history? That’s my business.” Eli jabbed a finger at him, thick brows knotted together. “Not yours, not anyone else’s. Mine. Got it?”

Alex nodded, throat tight. Eli stared at him for a moment longer, then threw his hands up in disgust, lip curled.

“Well?”

“Well?” Alex croaked. He couldn’t breathe.

“That it?” Eli gestured at him, eyes wide now, cheeks red. He looked like he was either going to punch Alex or cry. Maybe both. “That all you have to say now?”

I’m sorry was a noose, choking off his vocal cords. It took him too long to get the words together.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he finally spit out, nauseous, and Eli stepped off the stoop, turning away. His shoulders were hunched up around his ears.

“No,” he agreed, deadly soft. “You shouldn’t have.”

*

He didn’t see Eli in town the rest of the week. It should have been a relief. Instead, it gnawed at his guts as he went from angry to ashamed and back again, unsure of where to land.

The worst part was that he couldn’t talk to anyone about this. It would have helped, but he remembered how he felt when Haley told Eli about his dad behind his back, and he’d already screwed things up there enough. He was on his own. Up shit creek without a paddle, his grandpa would have said if Alex had told him. Not that his grandpa would have understood any of it, but his grandma might have. He wished he could tell her, more than anything; confess it all, so she could wrap her arms around him and tell him it would all be okay, that it was still possible to fix things if he could just figure out how. She always smelled like flowers. Sometimes, that was the only thing that drowned out his dad. But he couldn’t tell her, or else Eli might find out, and then he’d really never talk to Alex again. A couple months ago, Alex would have thought that was a good thing.

I’m sorry, he texted Eli a couple nights later, laying on his bed. It took him three tries to actually send it, and he immediately chucked his phone back into his desk and shut the drawer. He didn’t look at it again until the following morning. No response. He hadn’t expected one, but part of him still flinched away from the silence.

Sorry, he typed out, careful not to mash the buttons. That was a lame apology. Stared down at the screen for a second, then deleted it and shoved his phone back into his pocket.  He stretched and did his morning workout, ate breakfast, and watered his grandma’s garden since her arthritis was acting up. Then it was noon, and he still hadn’t come up with anything better to say. He dug his phone out of his pocket, stared at his screen until his vision swam.

I shouldn’t have said that, I didn’t mean it, he typed out finally, then deleted that too. He still wasn’t sure he didn’t mean it, and it didn’t seem right to lie.

I didn’t—

It was wrong to—

Sorry. That was a lame apology.

Eli didn’t text back to that, either, and by the time evening rolled around, Alex understood the silence for what it was: a response. Yeah, he imagined Eli saying, turning away from him again. It really was.

“I didn’t even want to be friends with you,” he said out loud to an empty bedroom.

*

The strangest part of the whole thing was that Ava hadn’t materialized in his house to chew him out, the way she had with Mal—Alex had thought she and Eli were closer. It didn’t take long to find out why.

“Alex!”

They were standing out in front of the little coffee shop nestled between Pierre’s and Harvey’s clinic—Gahwa & Majlis had been open for under a year, ever since Fadil from the Night Market crew decided to expand his business, and so far, he was making a killing. Alex and Haley had stopped by to grab one, since the day was unusually cool, and when he turned to see who was calling his name, it was like cold water being poured down his spine. Ava waved at him as she jogged over, ponytail bouncing. She was alone for once, no Leah or Eli in tow, and a woven basket dangled from her hand, stuffed with a checkered cloth.

“Hey! Haven’t seen you around in a minute.” She glanced at Haley, tone cooling. “Hi.”

“Mm,” Haley said, equally frosty. She didn’t look up from her phone.

“Hi,” Alex croaked, forcing himself to smile. “What’s up?”

“Thought I’d get some coffee before I go foraging.” She swung her arm a little, basket swaying. “Gotta get at least one more session in before spice berries go out of season.” Alex had no idea what to say to that, so he just smiled again and hoped it didn’t look as awkward as it felt. The line moved forward, and Ava moved with them, tugging at a loose strand of hair by her ear. “Just figured I’d say hi, since you’ve been too busy to come by the farm lately.”

Her tone was light, teasing, and the realization jolted Alex awake faster than any cup of coffee ever could.

“He didn’t tell you?” he blurted, out of sheer surprise—thinking before he spoke had never been his strong suit, as if the past week wasn’t proof enough of that on its own—and watched Ava’s eyes narrow.

“Tell me what?”

“Yeah, tell her what, Alex?” Haley said, because of course she’d picked right now to get interested in the conversation, and Alex squeezed his eyes shut and prayed for a meteor to come strike him down. Nothing happened, of course, because Yoba wanted him to suffer, and both women were staring at him when he opened them.

“We, uh. Got into a fight,” he mumbled, looking towards the To-Go kiosk. It was almost their turn to order. “Said some shit I shouldn’t have. That’s all.”

“Oh,” Ava said. “Did you apologize?”

“I tried.” He didn’t even want coffee anymore, but it was a relief to have an excuse to end the conversation so he could place his order, and then shuffle off to the bench outside the shop to wait, hoping Ava wouldn’t follow. She did, because it was just that kind of morning.

“Look, I’m not gonna pry into what happened, but I know my brother. If he’s that pissed off, you’re gonna have to do a little more than send a text message.” She gave him a meaningful look, tucking the basket into the crook of her elbow. “Just give him some time to cool off. He’ll come around. He always does.”

Not this time. But Ava was about the last person he wanted knowing what happened, so he just nodded and tried not to look like he was slowly drowning in his own discomfort. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“No problem,” she said, and mercifully no one spoke again until their names were called and Fadil slid their cups through the window with a wave. Ava picked hers up and gave him a nod, already moving in the opposite direction.

“See you later, Alex.” Pause. “Haley.”

“Mm,” Haley said, sipping her coffee.

“Later,” Alex echoed.

His thoughts were in a jumble the rest of the day. He’d assumed there’d be a blow-out the next time he saw one or more Lyndon, and he turned this new piece of information over and over in his head as he and Haley sat out front of the ice cream stall, sipping their drinks. Why hadn’t Eli told her? He’d thought—

Well, that was the problem, wasn’t it? He kept on thinking, assuming, acting like he knew shit, and it kept on turning out that he didn’t know anything at all. Story of his life.

“You’re like, really friends with them now, aren’t you?”

It took Alex a second to register that Haley was speaking, and when the words finally pierced his fog, he blinked at her, baffled. “What?”

“The farmers,” Haley said, voice dripping with condescension. She’d put her phone away, and was eying him suspiciously, one hand wrapped around her cup. “You like them.”

“I...” Alex started, then stopped. He had no idea how to follow that up, and the silent accusation in her gaze was starting to make him sweat all over again. “They’re okay,” he said finally. It came out more like a question. She snorted.

“Right. That’s why the girl one was asking why they ‘haven’t seen you in a minute,’” Haley mimicked, manicured fingers curling into vicious air quotes. “Because they’re ‘okay’.”

“You know her name,” Alex said, squinting at her until she huffed and looked away, cheeks turning faintly pink. Her sudden change in mood was the least of his problems, but— “Why do you care so much, anyway?”

“Please.” Haley sipped her coffee, looking away from him. “I don’t care. Do whatever you want.”

It took an embarrassingly long time to click, but when it did, he smiled for what felt like the first time in days. “Hold on.” She cut her eyes at him, and he grinned, leaning across the stand. “Are you jealous?”

Her cheeks went from pink to red. “No!”

“Oh man.” He couldn’t help it—he laughed, and Haley turned away from him in a hurry, more flustered than he’d ever seen her. “You’re totally jealous.”

“I am not!” She was really pissed now, face all scrunched and flushed, and he couldn’t stop himself from laughing, almost doubled over now with the relief of feeling normal for the first time in a week. Haley stomped her foot like a little kid, just like she always did when he was getting on her nerves. He could practically see the cartoon smoke coming out of her ears. “Why would I be jealous of them, anyway?”

“I promise I don’t like them better than you,” Alex told her, still chuckling, and watched her deflate a little, some of the color fading from her cheeks. She still looked angry, but less like she wanted to claw his eyes out, which was usually a good sign. “So you can stop being all weird and pissy with me now.”

“Of course you like me better than them,” Haley said, nose in the air, but even that didn’t disguise the thread of relief running through her voice. “You have taste.” Alex snorted, and she tucked her hair behind her ears, glancing over at him warily. “It just… feels like this is the most I’ve seen you in a while, is all.”

It was true, he realized, and guilt sobered him. “You’ve been my best friend for forever,” he told her honestly, slinging an arm around her shoulders and giving her a quick squeeze. She made a face but didn’t fight him, a pleased expression hovering around the edges of her frown. “Nothing’s gonna change that.”

She tossed her hair. “Better not.”

And anyway, Eli hates me now, he didn’t say. Instead, he let go and took a drink of his coffee. It was already cold. “I don’t even know why I opened today,” he said. “Nobody’s gonna want ice cream.”

Haley had already finished her drink, and she took his when he handed it over, lobbing both cups into the nearby trash bin. “So close,” she said. “Let’s go for a walk or something. I’ll get my camera.”

“Sure,” Alex said. It was better than nothing.

It was a good day, wandering up around the mountainside lake while Haley took photos, going on and on about composition and lighting. The best he’d had in a while. But he couldn’t forget about seeing Ava, and as he laid in bed that night, he replayed their conversation in his mind, staring up at the slow wobble of his ceiling fan. Eli not telling her had to mean something, didn’t it? If he was completely done with Alex, he would have told her. He would have burned that bridge without a single backwards glance. But he hadn’t. Instead, he’d left the door open. Alex rolled onto his stomach, stuffed his head under his pillow.

He had to fix it.

As it turned out, deciding to fix it was the easy part. The next step was figuring out how, and that was where Alex’s ideas ran out of steam. It was going to take more than an apology, he knew that much, but the particulars escaped him. Frustrated, he rolled onto his back, pillow still covering his face.

Did it really matter so much, how Eli had been born? Now that the initial shock had worn off, and he’d had some time to comb through his memories, he still couldn’t find anything about Eli that felt girly to him, or wrong, or freakish—however he’d started out, the Eli in the here and now was just an ordinary guy. A weird, funny dude with kick-ass taste in movies, who played guitar like a pro and named cats after fruit and was the first real friend Alex had made outside of Haley in years. The shame that ran through him then soaked him to the bone, clear and cold as river water. Shame that he’d said what he’d said, and that even now, he couldn’t quite shake his dad’s voice from where it clung to the back of his head. He mashed the pillow around his face and ears, pressing down tight until everything faded to white noise but the sound of his own heartbeat.

*

The next day, the sky was deceptively blue, and Alex let it trick him into thinking he didn’t need an umbrella, even though the clouds gathering on the horizon were an irritable gray. He took Dusty with him on his afternoon jog through Cindersap, but they’d barely made it a quarter of the way through his planned route when it began to rain.

There was no warning. Just a single rumble from overhead, and then the heavens opened and water came pouring through the trees. Dusty barked happily, tail wagging as Alex tugged him along the footpath. Sometimes they got freak showers like this during summer—if he waited it out, he might be able to pick up where he left off. He’d sheltered in one of the empty shrines that lined the footpaths before, the last time he and Dusty had gotten caught out in a storm. They were for the forest spirits, some patrons of travelers and lost souls, so he’d figured it was okay. He kept on going, looking, one arm across his forehead to shield his eyes from the rain, until the path dipped and rose and a rough wooden roof appeared just beyond the natural incline. Alex whistled for Dusty to pick up the pace, relieved. And then the rest of the shrine started to come into view, and Dusty barreled forward happily, yanking at his leash, and the figure sitting on the low wooden bench looked up. Alex was no longer relieved.

Dusty kept straining forward, paws churning and tongue lolling out of his mouth, but all Alex could do was stand there, leash clutched tight in his fist. His hair was soaked, his t-shirt plastered to his chest and back and his socks soaked through, and the shrine was right there but he couldn’t move. Even when Dusty barked, whining with anticipation and nearly jerking his leash free, Alex couldn’t make himself move.

“You’re getting wet,” Eli said.

He looked pretty drenched himself, curls straggling around his face and flannel shirt damp. A messenger bag sat open on his lap, notepad and pen visible where they poked out the top. He also looked like Alex was the absolute last person he wanted to see right then, but after another moment of silence, he moved to the far edge of the bench. “Seriously, just sit down. I’m not gonna yell at you.”

Alex’s feet suddenly worked again, and he closed the gap and ducked into the shrine’s dusty embrace. Emily said vampires needed to be invited into places, because she believed in things like vampires, and Alex sort of felt like one right then—cold, unable to get close unless he was wanted. Dusty immediately threw himself at Eli, trying to lick his hands and face at the same time, and Alex sat down, watching them out of the corner of his eye. Neither of them spoke for a while. The steady drum of rain overhead surrounded them, the woods misty and silver-green. Dusty sat on the ground between them, his tail thumping against Alex’s legs as he nudged at their hands, begging for attention. Eli obliged, absently scratching and ruffling his ears. He was smiling, but it looked sad, like part of it was missing. Alex searched his profile again, trying to see the girl that he used to be, until Eli straightened up, hands falling back into his lap.

“Stop it.” His voice was quiet, but sharp.

Alex dropped his gaze on instinct, an awful heat crawling down the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure what he’d done, but it had clearly made things worse. Again.

“I can feel you doing it,” Eli said, fists pressing hard into his lap. He wasn’t looking at Alex. He didn’t have to.

“Doing what?” Alex stammered, confused.

“Detransitioning me in your head.” Alex had no idea what that meant, so he just stared helplessly until Eli sighed. “Trying to see what I looked like as a girl,” he clarified, and Alex opened his mouth, then closed it, because he’d definitely been doing that and his guilt was definitely written all over his face now. Eli sighed again, stared up at the carved wooden ceiling of the alcove. “Hate to break it to you, man, but you’re looking for someone who doesn’t exist.”

“What do you mean?” Alex asked, starting to get frustrated. That was the thing about Eli—everything was fine until he got to a subject Alex didn’t know anything about, and then he’d talk like Alex knew what the hell he was saying, leaving him lost and lagging behind. It wasn’t like Alex didn’t know Eli was smarter than him, but right then it felt like he was rubbing it in.

“I was never a girl.”

“Oh,” Alex said. “But… isn’t that why you take hormones or whatever? To turn you into a guy?”

Eli laughed. It wasn’t a very nice sound. “No,” he said. “I take hormones because I’m a guy. I’d still be one even if I didn’t.” Pause. “Hormones, huh? Doing a little research?”

It felt like a trap, even if Alex couldn’t quite articulate why, and he still didn’t quite get what Eli meant, but he didn’t want to get mad when he was trying to apologize, so he just breathed until his irritation subsided. “I wanted to understand,” he said. “I still don’t, I guess.”

Eli was quiet for a bit, but when he spoke next, he sounded a little less angry. “I guess I can’t fault you for that.” Another pause. “Think about it this way. A gay person is gay before they come out of the closet, right? Before they even know it themselves?” Alex nodded hesitantly. “Same deal with being trans. Even before I changed my name, or started taking hormones or any of that, I was a guy. That’s what I meant when I said the ‘girl version’ of me doesn’t exist.”

“Oh,” Alex said. He hadn’t thought of it like that. He was also aware he should have apologized five minutes ago, but now that they were face-to-face the words were getting clogged in his throat again. He had to swallow a few times to get them out. “Look, I… I’m really sorry. About what I said, and… everything.”

“Good,” Eli said, patting Dusty’s head.

Alex flinched, but he figured he deserved that one. He wasn’t prepared for the rest.

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why’d you say it?”

“I said I was sorry—”

“I know you’re sorry. I still want to know why you said it.”

Eli’s expression wasn’t angry anymore. Just iced over, like Cindersap Lake during the winter.

“I don’t know,” Alex said weakly.

“Yeah, you do.” Eli stared out at the path and the trees just beyond, chewing on his lower lip. “It was an easy way to hurt me.”

“I didn’t,” Alex wanted to say, but he had no idea what the follow-up would be. I didn’t mean to hurt you? I didn’t mean it like that? I didn’t want it to be like this?

“They don’t know,” Eli said. “Sebastian and Elliott. Nobody here knows but Ava and Mal. And now you, I guess.” His smile was painful to look at, a bitter twist of his lips. “Congrats.”

Alex had thought he was ashamed of himself the whole week prior, but in that moment, he almost evaporated beneath the intense heat of it. Almost ran back out in the rain just to get away from it, and Dusty whimpered at his feet, like he could sense the shift in mood.

“They don’t?”

“Why would they? It’s not their business.” Or yours, went unspoken.

“Oh,” Alex said again. “I… shit. I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“I don’t know why I thought you told them. I just… didn’t get why you’d tell them and not me.” He was sure his face was going to melt off into his lap at any second. He felt stupid every day of his life, more or less, but this was a whole new level of hell. “Not that I think you had to tell me, or anything… shit.” He stared down at his hands, at the dirt under his nails. It itched. He felt like he was going to itch right out of his hot, ugly, too-small skin. “Sorry. I keep fucking this up.”

“It’s not about you, Alex,” Eli said, but some of the ice in his gaze had thawed. “I choose who to tell, and when to tell them. It’s easier not to, a lot of the time, so I don’t, unless it’s my doctor or someone I’m dating.”

“You told me you were gay.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

Eli gave him a look. “Did you freak out like this when I told you I was gay?” Alex had to admit he had a point. “I’m not ashamed of who I am, alright? I just didn’t think you’d fucking Google me.”

“I just wanted to see your band,” Alex said, which was true enough—there was no way in hell he was admitting to trying to look up Eli’s ex-boyfriend, let alone dig into why he’d been doing that in the first place. “I wasn’t trying to get dirt on you or anything.”

“Still don’t get why you cared so much that I didn’t tell you, but whatever,” Eli said. “If me being trans is going to be a problem—”

“It’s not!” Alex hurried to reassure him, wrapping and re-wrapping Dusty’s leash around his wrist. Dusty, for his part, had flopped onto his belly as soon as the tension eased and was watching the rain, chuffing softly. “What I said, I didn’t… it was my dad, not me.” He regretted saying it as soon as it left his mouth, but he was in too deep now to back out. “I mean, it was me, but I didn’t mean it like that. It was a fucked-up thing to say. But my dad… he said stuff like that. Not that, exactly, but you know. Stuff about gay people, trans people, anybody who wasn’t ‘normal’. And like, my grandparents aren’t like that, really, and my mom wasn’t, and I don’t want to think like that, but sometimes it’s like… I can hear him, whispering in the back of my head, and I can’t always make him stop telling me what to do.” He couldn’t look at Eli. “If I can’t get rid of him, I’m gonna end up just like him.”

He’d never said that to anyone. Mostly because he knew it was pathetic to blame everything wrong with him on a guy who wasn’t even there, who was more like a bad dream than a real flesh-and-blood presence at this point. His dad might have poisoned him, but he was the one spewing it everywhere. He just didn’t know how to make it stop.

“You know,” Eli said, “I don’t think your dad would have apologized to me.” He went quiet for a moment, and Alex sat staring down at the leash wrapped around his wrist, his thoughts all turned to television static. “I mean, he sounded like a real piece of shit, and people like that don’t sit around worrying about whether they’re a bad person. They’re just shit. So you’re already doing better than he ever did.”

Alex’s face was hot for a different reason now. “Why are you being nice to me?”

“Because I don’t think you’re a bad person,” Eli said. “You did something shitty, but I don’t think that makes you irredeemable, y’know?” He hunched forward on the bench, fiddling with the strap on his messenger bag. “It’s not like I’ve never said anything terrible to anyone.”

The acceptance was worse than the anger. “I didn’t mean it. Okay?” In that moment, that seemed like the only important thing, Eli knowing he didn’t mean it. Selfishly, Alex wanted to make him understand. “I don’t think of you as a girl or anything. I know you’re not.” He cleared his throat. “Just… in case you were worried about that.”

Eli eyed him for a moment, and then he shook his head, a hint of a smile creeping in. He hid it almost immediately, but not before Alex saw the relief in it, and that, somehow, hurt the worst.

“Alright,” he said finally. “You’re forgiven, on one condition.”

“What?”

“We drop the subject right now and never talk about this ever again.”

“Done,” Alex said immediately. “Totally cool with that. Never again.”

“Please stop talking now.”

“Yep. Okay.”

The rain fell, the woods rich with the smell of loam and earth, and the parrots sheltered beneath thick branches, silent for once. Dusty snored once or twice, drooling on Alex’s sneaker. Alex watched Eli watching the rain. He looked thoughtful now, if still a little sad, and Alex had a sudden, perverse urge to rip off one of his own emotional scabs, like he could say hey, look, here’s something you can hurt me with too and it would make everything okay again. It wouldn’t, and he knew he ought to leave well enough alone, but there was one question he’d been avoiding for weeks, ever since that night outside the Saloon, and now—

“Did Sebastian tell you?”

It came out too loud, jarring in the otherwise-quiet. Eli didn’t pretend not to know what he was talking about. He just nodded, and to Alex’s surprise, it wasn’t as humiliating as he’d thought it would be. Maybe it was the lack of judgment on his face, or maybe Alex had just used up every last ounce of shame already; whatever it was, it didn’t feel as awful as he expected. It felt more like coming up for air.

“I’m not gay,” he said, because he felt the need to say it out loud just then. “It was just… I don’t know. I was freaked out and I made a mistake. That’s all.”

“Okay,” Eli said.

“I don’t know what he told you, but—”

“Alex. Seriously. I’m not going to tell anyone, and I’m not judging you for doing something you regret in high school.” Eli’s hair was dry now, and he raked his fingers through it, curls standing on end in their wake. “I mean, I kinda think you and Sebastian should talk it out—”

“Hell no.”

“—but I know neither of you will,” Eli finished, a hint of exasperation in his voice, “so I’ll say this instead. If you really want to start trying to be better than your dad, you should apologize to him for the shit you said to him back then. Only if you mean it, though. Not because I made you feel guilty or whatever.”

Alex’s first instinct was to dismiss it outright, but as much as he hated it, Eli had a point. He was never going to get out of his dad’s shadow if he couldn’t do something as simple as apologize for being a dick in high school. At least, it was simple in theory. The idea of actually trying to apologize to Sebastian made him feel like puking, so he just shrugged and grunted, bracing his elbows against his knees. “I’ll think about it.”

“Right.” Eli didn’t sound convinced, but he left it there all the same. “Like I said, I’m not going to tell anyone. We can stop talking about this now, if you want.”

Yes,” Alex said fervently.

Eli kind of chuckled, and turned his attention back to the rain. “Think it’ll let up anytime soon?”

“Hope so. I was in the middle of a run.” Alex looked at Eli’s bag again, the spiral-bound notebook poking out of the corner with a pen tucked in it. “What were you doing out here, anyway?”

“Writing a song. Or trying to, anyway.” He drummed his fingers along the edge of the notebook, like he’d just now remembered he had it. “Not really getting anywhere with it, though, so I started sketching instead. Until I got rained on.”

“You draw?” Alex asked, surprised and a little envious. He’d always assumed growing up that you only really got one talent, only got to be really, really good at one thing, and people who were good at multiple things were cheating somehow. 

“Sometimes. I’m not that great at it.”

“Can I see?”

Eli looked a little taken aback at that, but he shrugged and dug his sketchbook out of his bag, handing it over. “Sure, if you want.”

Alex took it, and suddenly the gesture felt much bigger than it was. Even after everything, Eli still wanted to hang out with him, still trusted him enough to share something he made, and maybe it was just a sketchbook, but it still felt important. He was probably being stupid again.

No, he was definitely being stupid again, but still. It was kinda nice.

He flipped it open to the first page, where a parrot was bursting into flight, and the rain fell all around them in a comforting gray veil, like it was shielding them from the rest of the world. It could go on a little longer, he decided, turning the page. Just a little bit, anyway.

Notes:

TW: Explicit transphobia throughout the entire chapter.

This was the chapter I've been putting off writing for a long time, even though I knew I was going to have to eventually - it required some digging into painful places, especially since I knew I wanted to write it from Alex's POV, but I am glad I wrote it. Eli and Alex's relationship was never going to be an easy one, especially with Alex's past and current struggles. The final scene in this chapter was actually one of the first I ever envisioned for this story, and it feels good to finally get it off my chest. The road to true growth and character development is often a long, ugly one - thank you all for continuing along it with me thus far.

Chapter 13: Thirteen

Chapter Text

“I don’t want to forgive him,” Eli said when Janice picked up the phone. To her credit, she didn’t immediately hang up on him. “I know I already did, but I changed my mind. I wish I hadn’t.”

She was quiet for a moment. A keyboard clacked in the background, which meant she was probably in her office. “Are you going to take it back?”

“No.” He groaned, slumping against the wall. “I want to, but…”

“He’s your friend. It’s natural to want to maintain that connection, even though he did something hurtful.” More clacking. “I know we talked about this last week, but the strength and compassion you’ve shown has been really impressive, Eli. You should be proud of yourself.”

In that moment, Eli felt neither strong nor compassionate, but he didn’t want to whine more to Janice than he already had. She’d already done him a huge favor by calling him between appointments after he’d emailed her in a panic the other week, and she’d talked him through both his boiling rage and renewed self-loathing. Truthfully, even after their conversation, he still hadn’t been sure he was really going to forgive Alex. Until they’d met in the rain and he realized the guy might be more fucked up than he’d thought. Alex had seemed genuinely remorseful, and the next thing Eli knew, he was letting him look through his sketchbook, wondering if their friendship could be salvaged after all.

One benefit to the whole shitty situation: it had completely killed any Alex-related daydreams. Sure, he was still attractive, but even if Alex suddenly decided that he was comfortable liking men, Eli could never date him. Not without losing his remaining self-respect, anyway. Forgiveness was one thing, but forgetting was a whole different beast.

“I’m trying,” he said. “Thanks.”

He still hadn’t told Ava. Not for Alex’s sake—he just didn’t want to have to justify himself to anyone. Telling Mal hadn’t even crossed his mind. They didn’t talk about things like that. Janice had said it was fine, he didn’t have to tell them if he wasn’t comfortable sharing, but he still felt vaguely guilty, like he was keeping yet another secret. He said goodbye to her and hung up before wandering into the kitchen.

“Morning!” Ava chirped from the table, coffee cup steaming on the placemat in front of her. She waved a piece of paper in his direction. “Guess what day it is.”

The coffee pot was, blessedly, still half-full. Eli opened the cupboard, hunting for a clean mug. “Sunday?”

“No! I mean, yeah, but it’s not just Sunday.” The paper crinkled softly behind him. “Got a reminder in the mailbox. It’s the Festival of the Moonlight Jellies tonight!”

“What? Oh, right.” People had been talking about it in town, but Eli hadn’t paid attention, since he’d been preoccupied with the Alex situation. “That jellyfish viewing thing.”

“Demetrius says it only happens once a year,” Ava said. “You wanna go?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Coffee cup in hand, Eli joined her at the table. There were two plates in the center, piled high with toast and scrambled eggs and slices of bacon, and he whistled as he grabbed the jam jar and a knife. “You made all this?”

“Yes,” Ava said defensively, scooping more eggs onto her plate. “Why?”

“I thought you hated cooking.”

“Nah, I didn’t hate it. Mom and Dad just did all of it at home, and then once I got my own place and started working, it was easier to get take-out most of the time, y’know? Other stuff was always more important.” She shrugged and set the spoon down. “Everything’s… I don't know, slower out here. Gotta keep busy somehow, right?”

The sound of the basement door opening saved Eli from having to respond. Mal trudged into the kitchen a moment later, a foaming pint glass in hand. He set it on the kitchen table with a dull thump.

“Taste it,” he said.

“Mal, it’s eight AM.”

“I didn’t say you had to drink the whole glass.” Mal looked between them, and grunted when neither of them moved. “Will one of you just tell me how the damn thing tastes? If it sucks I’m gonna have to spend another month recalibrating the recipe.”

“Fine, fine,” Ava said. Silence hovered as she picked it up and took a sip, followed by a second, and then she swallowed and shoved the glass in Eli’s direction, smacking her lips. “Try that.”

Eli took it, sipping cautiously from the opposite side. There it was again, that sunshine-and-spice flavor from the beach their first night in town. The fizz tickled his nose, and the beer tasted so good he let himself have a second mouthful before setting the glass down. Mal still looked like he was braced for the worst, his arms crossed and shoulders hunched. Eli gave him an encouraging smile.

“It’s really good, dude.”

“Seriously,” Ava said, eyeing the glass like she was thinking about going back for thirds. “You nailed it.”

Mal looked between them like he wasn’t sure if they were serious, but when neither of them said anything else he relaxed, ducking his head a little. “You think we could sell it?”

Eli thought about the Luau. “Probably, yeah. It sounded like this recipe was popular.”

“You should come with us tonight,” Ava said, and both Mal and Eli blinked at her. “It’s the Moonlight Jelly thingy, everyone will be there. You could talk to Gus about selling this batch to the Saloon.”

Eli expected Mal to refuse outright, and was shocked when no protest came. His brother looked uncomfortable, but also thoughtful, staring at the glass on the table. After a moment, he uncrossed his arms, and one hand came up to rub the back of his neck, posture slumping.

“Tonight, huh?”

“It’ll be dark out,” Ava said, and picked up a piece of bacon, crunching into it with relish.

“Wouldn’t hurt to talk to the man,” Mal allowed after a moment, snagging a piece of toast from the top of the stack. “Long as I don’t have to stay the whole time.”

“What the hell is happening here?” Eli asked, looking between them.

“Business.” Mal took a bite of toast, and a shower of crumbs caught in his beard and scattered across the tabletop. “Better get started clearing the fields if we’re going anywhere tonight, though.”

“Yeah, alright.” Ava shoved her chair back, plate in hand. “Final harvest of the summer already. Can you believe it? It feels like we just got here.”

Eli’s coffee was already lukewarm. He downed the rest of it in one go, then stuffed the remains of his breakfast in his mouth and stood, plate and mug in hand. Ava took the dishes and handed them to Mal, who set them neatly in the sink. Eli watched him, chewing on his lower lip. He felt like he’d missed something.

“You’re really going with us?”

“Guess so,” Mal said.

“Huh.” It seemed like he ought to say more than that, so he settled on, “Cool.”

“Come on,” Ava said, before either of them could ruin the moment, and grabbed Eli’s wrist. “Help me with the rest of the tomatoes.”

*

The sun was already sinking towards the horizon by the time the garden and fields were stripped bare, the soil turned and the produce cleaned and catalogued. Half of it was destined for Pierre’s, and the other half for the cellar, stored away for future endeavors: canning, pickling, preserving. The three of them sat on the back porch when they were done, drenched in sweat, dirty and exhausted, their shadows stretching long and thin over green-brown grass.

“It’s almost fall,” Ava said finally. Wonder lingered in her words. “You can smell it in the air.”

Eli nodded, out of breath. This late in the day, the breeze was cooler, almost crisp, and earthy where it carried the scent of the wheat fields. Not quite autumn, but a promise of things to come. Every inch of him ached, but there was something deeply satisfying about knowing he’d earned it, that he could reach out and touch the literal fruits of his labor. Music spoke to him, was its own satisfaction, but its rewards were less tangible; farming was all about the tangible, the cut-and-dry, the do-or-don’t. Straightforward. It gave him something to do with his hands and quieted his mind, if only for a moment. He unscrewed the cap on his water bottle, drinking deeply.

“Three months,” Mal said, after the silence lingered just a bit too long. He sat on the stoop with his elbows braced against his knees, expression contemplative. “Only nine more until Joja’s legally required to fuck off.”

Eli chuckled, and Ava barked out a short laugh, staring down at her boots. There was a loose thread on the ripped knee of her jeans, and she started worrying at it, twisting and tugging.

“Then what?” she asked.

Nobody said anything. Eli glanced over at Mal cautiously, and found him glancing back.

“Mom thinks we should sell,” Ava went on, still fiddling. “Since we’re not, like… real farmers. So we should probably decide what to do with the place before the year’s up.”

Mal frowned at his knuckles. “Do you want to sell?”

“I dunno.” The loose thread snapped. Ava flicked it away, immediately started pulling at another one. “Do you?”

Mal shrugged.

“We don’t have to talk about this right now,” Eli said, before either of them could ask him to weigh in. “Like you said, it’s been less than three months. Way too early to make a decision.”

“Yeah, I know.” The second loose thread went the way of the first. “But we should probably start thinking about it.”

“Can we think about it later? I wanna shower before the jellyfish thing.” Eli wasn’t sure he even wanted to go—the whole town was probably going to be there, which meant he’d probably see Alex—but he wanted even less to think about the future, and Ava sighed as he climbed to his feet.

“Okay, fine. Don’t hog all the hot water though, I need to shower too.”

“So do I,” Mal said, and glowered at him. “Keep it under ten minutes, the water heater’s one bad day away from breaking.”

“Calm down, I promise not to use it all up.”

“If we do keep this place, we should remodel,” Ava said. “This whole one-bathroom thing is not sustainable.”

Mal shook his head. “Do you have any idea how much that would cost?”

“It’d be worth it not to share a bathroom with you two.”

Eli left them to it and went back inside, kicking off his shoes in the entryway. A ten-minute shower wasn’t ideal, but he’d take a longer one later, when he didn’t have to fight for the hot water. Maybe he’d talk to Robin next time he went to see Sebastian, see what it would cost to get a water heater that wasn’t a thousand years old. Winter was going to be a nightmare otherwise.

He thought about Alex while he showered. He was too tired to be angry and had nothing else to dwell on, and so the thoughts crept in, same as the grass and weeds and ivy that encroached on the ruined greenhouse. He’d already forgiven Alex, already decided he still wanted to stay friends. That didn’t make it any easier to look in the mirror afterwards. He’d chewed Alex out for trying to detransition him mentally, but that didn’t stop him from doing it to himself sometimes. He would look in the mirror, or at recent photos, and scan the planes and slopes of his face, trying to see what strangers saw, imagining what he looked like through a hundred other pairs of eyes as he walked down the street. Wondering if they were trying to strip away the beard and the changes and expose the girl underneath. She wasn’t there, but he worried sometimes about what was; what he’d turn up if he went digging around in the garden plot of his own heart. Surely, after years of therapy and medication and battling dysphoria, he should be better than this. One ignorant remark shouldn’t have rattled him like this.

He had to stop. ‘Shouldn’t’ wasn’t getting him anywhere. He took a few deep breaths, then finished scrubbing out his hair and turned off the shower. It didn’t matter if it was fair, or even right. He’d made a choice, and he intended to stick with it. At least, he would until he was given a reason not to.

He dried off and hung up his towel, then pulled on the clean pair of boxers he’d brought into the bathroom with him, pointedly avoiding his reflection in the mirror. It would have been easier if he could have just stayed angry. But then again, it wasn’t really about Alex. It was about the ugly thoughts Alex had voiced, and realizing they lived in him too, deep down, waiting to sink their claws in when he wasn’t looking.

Maybe his wounds ran deeper than he thought.

*

Paper lanterns lined the docks and hung from the awning of the fish shop, bobbing gently in the nighttime breeze. From a distance, they glimmered like jewels, casting a warm glow around the pier, and the water below rippled red and purple and gold. The shore was stark white, washed out by the moon, and the sea was a smooth dark mirror as far as the eye could see, unbroken and stippled with stars. In the distance, nightingales sang, their voices mingling with the long, trilling call of a whippoorwill. The day had been warm, but the night was cool, and the air had a welcome chill where it rolled in off the ocean.

“They pass through at the end of summer every year,” Demetrius said as they crunched their way across the shore towards the docks. He was a couple steps ahead of the rest of them, every inch of his lanky frame radiating excitement. “Same day, roughly the same time of night. It’s like clockwork. Absolutely fascinating behavior.”

“I didn’t know jellyfish migrated,” Eli said.

“Yeah,” Ava said. “I thought they just kinda floated around wherever.”

“You’d be surprised,” Maru said cheerfully, keeping pace with her dad. Robin trailed behind them, looking both fond and amused. She winked when she caught Eli’s eye, as if to say adorable, right? “There’s actually studies that show they can swim against the current when they want to, which means they can detect it without a visual reference point.”

“Huh,” Eli said. “Is that… good?”

“It’s very impressive,” Demetrius said, nodding. “Thought to be close to impossible, since most migrating vertebrates don’t do it.”

“There’s also speculation that they might use the earth’s magnetic field to navigate,” Maru added. “But we don’t know for sure.”

“Like sea turtles,” Mal said, from somewhere behind Ava.

Maru grinned at him. “Exactly.”

Eli craned his head around to look at Mal, mouthed how the fuck did you know that at him, and got a shrug in response.

“Sea turtles?” Ava muttered in his ear. It was Eli’s turn to shrug.

It wasn’t quite ten yet, but half the town was already on the pier, chattering and laughing in little clumps while they waited for the main event. Willy and Gus stood in front of the shop, passing out steaming cups of hot chocolate and coffee to anyone who wanted one, and there was a slow cooker full of some kind of potato stew that smelled amazing even at a distance; there were spoons and little paper bowls for people to help themselves, and Eli immediately wished for seconds when he was done, pleasantly warm and full. Robin, Demetrius, and Maru had disappeared into the crush of familiar faces. 

With a jolt, Eli realized that most of the faces were familiar, enough so that he recognized them even if he couldn’t recall their names. It wasn’t like being in the city, where you could blend into a crowd and see a thousand people a week you might never see again. He kept thinking he knew that about the valley, but this was a stark reminder, and one he wasn’t sure he liked. There was nowhere to disappear to, no real anonymity. A flash of paranoia crept over him. Did people’s eyes linger a little too long? Did the conversation falter when he first arrived?

No. He wasn’t going to do this. Alex had promised, had sworn up and down on his grandmother’s life that he hadn’t said anything to anyone, and Eli believed him. He’d apologized, and if nothing else, he seemed like someone who took that kind of thing seriously. Like he wouldn’t swear on Evelyn’s life unless he truly meant it. It was a dumb justification, but Eli had to believe him. Otherwise, the forgiveness didn’t mean anything.

Sebastian was at the far end of the pier, away from the majority of the crowd, and when he caught Eli’s eye, he waved. Sam and Abigail were with him, caught up in what looked like a fairly involved conversation as they tossed loose pieces of driftwood into the water. Eli waved back, but didn’t go over. When he glanced over his shoulder, Mal and Ava were talking to Gus. More accurately, Ava was talking to Gus, her hands moving in an enthusiastic blur, while Mal nodded and stared down at his shoes. He left them to it and went closer to the ocean, watching the lantern lights bob and dance across its surface. This late at night, the water looked tar-like, viscous in its blackness. Like it could swallow him up without a sound, without a trace. Out of the corner of his eye, there was a familiar flash of green.

“Hey,” Alex said.

“Hey,” Eli echoed.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, both staring out at the jagged dark line of the horizon. Was Alex nervous too? Or was the lingering tension just in his imagination?

“Nice night,” Alex finally said, nudging at the pier’s salt-warped wood with his shoe. He sounded a little uncertain, and that made Eli feel better, in a selfish sort of way.

“It is.” Eli shoved his hands in his pockets. “You here with your grandparents?”

“Yeah, they’re over there.”

Alex pointed to the other end of the pier. Evelyn and George sat huddled together, cups of hot chocolate in hand and a checkered blanket wrapped around their shoulders, chatting quietly. The lanterns cast colorful halos around their heads and lit up Evelyn’s smile, her head tucked into her husband’s shoulder. George wasn’t smiling, exactly, but the combination of his wife and the lights made him look softer, some of the years melting away. Eli’s heart ached. He wanted that. Someone to grow old with someday, to sit on a pier with and reminisce about people and places long gone. Someone he didn’t have to hide parts of himself from. Someone who wanted to put their head on his shoulder.

“They’re cute.”

Alex shrugged and made a face, but a smile fought at the corners of his mouth. “If you say so.”

“Where’s Haley?” Not that he really cared, but it seemed important, not to let them fall back into that uncomfortable silence. “You guys are normally joined at the hip.”

“Are not,” Alex grumbled, crossing his arms. “I dunno, she’s around here somewhere. Said she was gonna take some photos.” He paused for a second. “Kinda thought you’d be hanging out with Sebastian and them.”

“Just felt like being by myself for a little bit.”

“Oh.”

“It’s fine, though,” Eli added hastily. “If you want to stay.”

“Yeah,” Alex said after a second. “Okay.”

They ended up sitting on the edge of the pier, legs dangling over the side and shoulders not quite touching. Everyone was gathering on the docks now, staggered in barnacle-like clusters in front of Willy’s shop. Willy knelt at the edge of the pier, a carved wooden boat in hand. Lewis stood beside him, holding a white candle and a lighter.

“Another summer comes to pass,” he announced. “And with it, another migration of the Moonlight Jellies. Every year… well, every year I wonder why they only pass through here, and every year I’m grateful they do. It reminds me just how special our little town is.” A pleased murmur swept through the crowd. Lewis looked genuinely wistful, his gaze drifting past them all and out over the water, like he was searching for something no one else could see. “They know it too. That’s why they come here, to help us welcome the new season. ‘Least, that’s what I think.”

Willy took the candle and lighter. The gentle nudge seemed to snap Lewis out of whatever trance he was in, and he tugged at the brim of his flat cap as he cleared his throat, dragging his attention back to the present.

“Right. Well, as I was saying, this boat represents a wish from all of us, that wherever the jellyfish go from here, they get there safely and come again next year.” He glanced down at Willy. “Care to do the honors?”

Willy nodded. A hush fell as the lighter clicked and the candle flickered to life, its flame bobbing in time with the lanterns. Then Willy leaned down and set the boat in the water. It listed alarmingly to one side for a moment, then righted, and Eli leaned forward so he could watch it bob away from them on the gently swelling waves.

“He says the same thing every year,” Alex muttered, but leaned back so he wasn’t blocking the view. “They’re just jellyfish, man. They don’t come here because of us.”

Eli didn’t respond. The light from the candle grew smaller and smaller, until it was almost indistinguishable from the stars reflecting on the water.

“So, what now?” he asked. “We wait?”

“Pretty much.”

An odd, reverent quiet had come over the pier, the chatter dying down to nothing. Eli sat back and looked around until he spotted Ava and Mal. They were standing with Gus on Lewis’s other side, both silent. Colored lights dappled Ava’s face and hair with jewel tones, red and purple bleeding into pink and gold and back again, her eyes sparkling. Mal was hunched into himself again, chin practically touching his chest, but the light caught his eyes too, and they were dark and alert. There was an undercurrent of anticipation now, like the entire town was collectively holding its breath. Even Alex had gone quiet. Eli’s skin prickled.

First, there was nothing. Just the wind and the susurrus of the waves washing against the docks. Then, light.

It started as a faint glow on the horizon, so soft Eli thought he might be imagining it. Then, he realized it was coming from the water itself. The glow became stronger and stronger until the whole strip of ocean before them shone silver, lit from within, and Eli couldn’t help but lean forward to get a better look, awe fluttering in his chest. It was like looking at the surface of some immense, luminescent pearl. The waves rippled and shimmered, cresting toward the pier, and the light began to break; he blinked as it began to spread, scattering, and then he realized. It was coming from the jellyfish themselves, and there was an unending stream of them, carried along by the current like thousands of miniature moons.

“Wow,” he said softly.

He hadn’t meant to say it. It just slipped out. He glanced over at Alex to see if he was being judged and found him smiling back, warm and affectionate. It was startling, and then it was gone. As soon as their eyes met, Alex looked away, hands clenched tight in his lap. Eli was sure he hadn’t imagined it, but it seemed better just then to pretend he had. So he looked back at the water instead, and the endless sea of jellyfish floating in on the tide.

“They’re beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Alex said quietly. “They’re alright.”

The pier was coming to life again, collective excitement and soft voices filling the air as the jellyfish washed in, lighting up the docks. Translucent and white, their delicate frills tangling like lace, they trembled and swayed with the waves. Was it the current alone carrying them, Eli wondered, or the earth’s magnetic field, like Demetrius and Maru had said? The more he watched them, the less random it seemed. There was a pattern to their movements, unique but strangely familiar, like improvised music, and he propped his chin in his hands, watching them bob below his dangling feet.

“It really does look like they’re dancing,” he said.

“I guess so.” Their shoulders brushed as Alex shifted. “You don’t see stuff like this in the city, huh?”

“Definitely not.” Now that he was looking more closely, he could see differences in the jellyfish as they bobbed and spun slowly. Some were tinged with pale blue or a hint of pink, and a couple even glimmered purple and green beneath the lanterns. “Don’t get me wrong, the city’s beautiful in its own way, but… I’m glad I was here to see this.”

“You are?” Alex sounded surprised. 

Eli elbowed him gently. “Yeah, dude. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno,” Alex said, elbowing him back. “Just used to it, I guess.”

“Way to take it for granted,” Eli teased. “Lewis is right, though. There’s something really special about this place.”

Alex looked puzzled, probably because somebody was agreeing with Lewis, but then he shrugged and ducked his head, staring down at the jellyfish. “Do you miss it?”

“Miss what?”

“The city.”

Eli thought about it. He’d been trying not to think about it. “Yeah, kind of. Not as much as I thought I would.”

“Really?” Alex sounded skeptical. “You don’t?”

“I don’t know. I just… need some distance from it.” From the memories that called to him from every street corner, from the weight of his entire life’s history bearing down on him. From the possibility of running into Jesse, or his old bandmates, or any of the other people who used to be something to him and were strangers now. “Don’t get me wrong though, I really like it here. Wish we’d spent more time here when I was a kid.”

Why hadn’t they spent more time here? There had to have been a reason, but he couldn’t remember, and the thought niggled at him like a hangnail. He frowned.

“What’s up?” Alex said.

“Nothing. I—”

“Eli! Are you seeing this?”

Ava swooped in on them from above like a pale pink hawk, Mal in tow and face alight. She threw her arms around their shoulders as she flopped between them, almost strangling Eli with her elbow as she pointed at the water. “I had no idea jellyfish could even do this! Hey, Alex.”

“Hey,” Alex wheezed.

She relented and let him go, but kept one arm draped over Eli’s shoulder. He could feel her shivering a little—whether it was from the breeze cutting across the shore or the excitement, he didn’t know. Maybe both. “Man, this is amazing. You see this every summer?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Lucky.” The wind whipped her hair across her face, and she shook it out of the way, her curls tickling Eli’s cheek. “I’m glad we came down here for this.”

“Me too,” Eli said, then glanced up as a shadow fell over his other side. “You wanna sit down?”

“Might as well,” Mal said.

Ava leaned around Eli as they all shuffled over to make room, squinting at him. “I thought you weren’t gonna stay for the whole thing.”

Mal grimaced and swung his legs over the edge of the pier. “Shut up and watch the jellyfish.”

*

It was late by the time Eli and Alex stumbled across the bridge leading back to town, and the moon was a high, pale sliver in the cloudless sky, surrounded by a wash of stars. They were the last ones to leave—almost all the other stragglers had gone ahead of them, and Mal and Ava were waiting by the footpath ahead, talking in quiet voices. Probably about Gus. Eli would have to ask them how that went in the morning.

They’d watched the jellyfish until almost midnight, when the current finally began to carry them away. It was, to Eli’s surprise, the best night he’d had in some time—the weather was perfect, and everyone’s excitement was infectious. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen something so beautiful. 

But eventually the tide began to recede, and the glow started to fade, and his heart clenched as they floated, little by little, back out to sea. Nothing lasted forever, but selfishly, he wished it could go on a little longer. That he could keep putting off the uncertainty of tomorrow. 

He hadn’t meant to spend the whole festival with Alex. He’d said hi to Sebastian and Sam and Abigail before they left, when Alex disappeared for a bit to talk to Haley, but then they’d drifted right back together. It had been like this since he moved to the valley, when he thought about it—they couldn’t seem to escape each other’s orbit. The side effect of living in a small town, probably. But there was still some part of him that wondered what it meant, if it meant anything at all, and that was the part of him that he was desperately trying to ignore. The part of him that never learned.

“I wonder where they go,” he said out loud, and Alex tipped his head back like he was considering it, staring up at the moon. The bridge creaked beneath their feet.

“Guess I never thought about it before.”

“Really? Never?”

“Well, maybe a long time ago. When I was a little kid or something.” Eli stayed quiet, and after a second, Alex shrugged. “You get used to something, and then… I dunno. You stop wondering.”

The conversation lulled after that, and Eli knew he shouldn’t linger—it was late, and Ava and Mal were waiting for him—but he ended up walking Alex to his front door anyway. The porch light was off, and George and Evelyn were already long home and in bed. He only meant to say goodnight and go, but before he could, Alex turned back to him with a tentative smile.

“Thanks for hanging out.”

“Oh, yeah. No problem. It was fun.”

The words felt robotic as they left his mouth, but Alex nodded, hands in his pockets. His hair was messy, wind-blown, and there was something shy about his posture, like he wanted to say something and wasn’t sure how to proceed.

“Yeah.” He took a breath, blew it out. “Normally the festivals are kinda boring, but… it was cool, seeing it with you guys and watching you get all excited and stuff. Made it fun again.”

“Oh,” Eli said, and blamed being tongue-tied on the hour. “Yeah. It was… yeah. It was nice.”

Alex flashed him another one of those weirdly soft smiles as he reached for the doorknob. “See you around?”

“Yeah,” Eli said, and waved, for lack of anything better to do with his hands. “I’ll see you around.”

The door closed, leaving him painfully aware of himself on the stoop, and he turned around to see Mal and Ava’s silhouettes at the end of the path, just outside the halo of nearby streetlights. They waved at him, impatient, and he stepped off onto the grass and went to go meet them, his head buzzing. He was exhausted, but suddenly wide awake, replaying the night in his head. The jellyfish, the crowd, the stars. The way Alex smiled at him, how soft and open and unexpected it was. His gut twisted.

Fuck.

Maybe he wasn’t as over him as he thought.

Chapter 14: Fourteen

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Alex woke up.

He wasn’t supposed to be awake, and for a moment he was dizzy, heartbeat pounding in his temples. His armpits and his back were damp with sweat. He rolled over, squinting at the clock on his desk until the glowing green digits resolved themselves into something legible. It was just past four AM. He flopped back onto the pillows, forearm heavy over his eyes, and swallowed. His mouth was achingly dry.

He didn’t think he’d had a nightmare—those were always disturbingly vivid, and he rarely forgot them. But he’d been dreaming, and the dream itself was slippery and insubstantial, just out of reach. There was only the echo of loss, of something important gone missing, and the sting of the ocean in his nose and lungs.

He’d been looking for Eli.

The sudden clarity sent a sickening jolt through him. Without thinking, he fumbled for his phone, blinking as the light from the screen seared his retinas, and hit the call button. It was an impulse rooted in nothing, but something kept him from hanging up, something that kept whispering what if in the back of his mind, what if he—

It was too crazy to finish the thought, even in the privacy of his own head. He’d almost talked himself into letting it go when the ringing stopped, and Eli’s sleep-thick voice said, “…’lo?”

Alex exhaled, relief flooding him. It was stupid, because of course Eli was fine. Of course he hadn’t disappeared into the sea. It was just a dream.

“Hello?”

He realized he hadn’t actually said anything. “Uh… hey.”

“Alex?” Eli said, still sounding half-asleep. A yawn followed. “What time is it?”

“Early. Sorry. I didn’t think you were actually gonna pick up.”

“What’s going on?” Eli sounded more awake now. Something rustled and creaked faintly in the background, like he was sitting up on the couch. “Everything okay?”

“I… had a dream.” He winced as soon as it left his mouth. It sounded childish. Pathetic. “It’s nothing. Sorry. Go back to sleep.”

“If it was nothing, you wouldn’t have called,” Eli pointed out, and yawned again, but his voice was soft and free of judgment. “Nightmare?”

Alex clutched the phone, staring into the darkness at nothing. You disappeared, he imagined himself saying. We were on the beach and the ocean swallowed you whole and I looked and looked but couldn’t find you.

“Yeah,” he finally croaked. “Kinda.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

What could he even say? That he woke up needing to know it wasn’t real, and Eli hadn’t vanished in the three hours since they’d last seen one another? It barely made sense to him, there was no way he could explain it to someone else.

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m fine. I’ll go.”

“Alright,” Eli said. “Maybe next time, wait until morning if it’s not an emergency, yeah?”

Embarrassment swept over him, cold and prickly. “Sorry.”

“S’all good.” A chuckle flooded the line. “Take it easy.”

“You too.”

The line clicked off, and Alex lay in bed, half afraid to go back to sleep. But he did feel better, for whatever reason, and eventually he drifted off again, covers pulled over his head. This time, he didn’t dream at all.

*

“It’s cute that you’re wearing flannel now,” Haley said. “Since you’ve become a farmer and all.”

“Shut up.”

“It’s very fall chic.”

Alex rolled his eyes and didn’t answer her, sipping his mulled cider. Autumn had brought a chill to the air, delicate and fine as his grandmother’s lace shawl, and they had to close the windows at night so the air rolling in off the sea couldn’t paw at them with its icy hands. He was even allowed to have Dusty sleep at the foot of his bed now. A swirl of red-gold leaves blew through the square, the wind tugging at his jacket and Haley’s scarf. Gahwa & Majlis had added cider and lokma flavored with cinnamon sugar to their menu to celebrate the season, and Haley finished off her packet now, licking the last of it off her fingers.

“Are you going over there again today?”

She didn’t bother to clarify where ‘there’ was. Alex resisted the urge to fidget, unsure why he felt like he’d been caught doing something embarrassing.

“Yeah, probably.”

Lately he’d been spending more and more time at the farm. There was something about it in the fall, the way the fields rippled gold and the air smelled crisp and earthy and there was nothing else around for miles but trees and distant mountains and the log cabin that sat in the center of it all, like something out of a painting. Eli and Ava had been working on the garden, planting corn and yams and artichokes and beets and what promised to be a massive pumpkin patch, and in the afternoons they and Mal went out to the orchard to care for the trees and see how their progress was coming along. The branches were budding with flowers and green unripe fruit like little jewels, and Eli had said that if Demetrius’ predictions were correct they’d have apples and pomegranates in a matter of weeks. He’d also told Alex he didn’t have to help them with any of it, but Alex found he liked it. There was something rewarding about weeding and planting and tilling, something that allowed him to turn his brain off for a while and just let his body go. The pleasant ache afterwards kept his thoughts at bay, turned them into TV static, and when they were done Ava would go get them all iced tea or cider and they’d sit on the porch and watch the sun go down. Sometimes Eli played his guitar, sometimes they talked about nothing or watched Dusty roll around in the field and bark at the silhouettes of migrating geese overhead, but either way it felt good. Felt worthwhile, in a way very few things he’d done ever had. But he didn’t know how to explain that to Haley, so he didn’t try. She made a face, toying with the tassels at the end of her scarf.

“I don’t know why I even ask at this point.”

“You could come too,” Alex said. “If you wanted.”

“And, what? Play in the dirt all day? No thanks.” She hopped off the bench, cup still in hand and nose in the air. “I’m gonna go develop that film I took last week. Have fun with your new best friends.”

“Haley, come on,” Alex said, exasperated, but she was already walking off. “Haley!”

She didn’t turn around. He didn’t go after her, guilt and irritation warring in his gut. It wasn’t his fault she didn’t have any other friends. They weren’t in high school any more; he didn’t have to pretend not to like someone just because Haley didn’t. He finished off his cider and threw the cup away, stewing under the cloudy weight of the dove-grey sky overhead, and wondered what the hell to even say to her when they saw each other again. He’d never been any good at fighting with her.  On the rare occasions they were mad at each other, he worried at it like a loose tooth until they made up. It niggled at him all the way up to the farm.

*

“Man,” Eli said, yanking up a particularly stubborn weed from the sprouting vines of the pumpkin patch. “Haley really doesn’t like us, huh?”

Alex shrugged and brushed the dirt off his gloves. He hadn’t meant to tell anyone about it, but they were only halfway through cleaning up the edges of the garden and the whole thing had spilled out of him without warning when Eli asked why he was being so quiet. If he was having nightmares again.

“I mean, it’s not you guys,” he said weakly, even though it kind of was. “She’s just… I dunno. We’ve been best friends since we were little kids.” Each other’s only real friends, if he was being honest. “I don’t think she’s used to… this.”

“Sharing you?”

Heat crawled up the back of Alex’s neck. “It’s not like that.”

“Does Haley know that?”

Eli was smiling, voice light, but there was something curious in his eyes as he tossed another clump of dirt and weeds into the basket between them. Alex burst out laughing. He couldn’t help it.

“Trust me, even if Haley wanted to date me, it’d be too weird. We’re like… too close. You know?”

He wasn’t sure he even knew what he meant by that, but thankfully Eli seemed to get it, because he nodded and straightened up with a groan, hand on his lower back.

“Fuck, I’m getting too old for this. C’mon, let’s finish up. I wanna eat lunch.”

“You’re twenty-eight.”

“Talk to me in five years and see how your back feels.”

Lunch was sweet tea and sandwiches, and they sat on the porch with Ava and watched Peach romp across the yard, chasing a lone butterfly. Alex chewed slowly, trying to ignore the clench in his gut. Tunneller’s tryouts opened in a week, and he’d been thinking about it all day; normally Haley came with him, but after the morning’s argument, he wasn’t sure he even wanted to ask. There was a distance between them that hadn’t been there before, and it made his throat close up whenever he thought about it, like he couldn’t get enough air. He’d wondered, briefly, if he should ask Eli instead, but it seemed pointless. Eli was busy with the farm and his own projects, he wasn’t going to take a day off to come up to Zuzu and watch Alex do boring sports stuff.

“Wait,” Eli said, drawing him back to the present. He snapped his fingers. “I got it.”

“Got what?” Ava asked, mouth full.

“We should have a bonfire.” Eli was still holding his glass loosely. Tea sloshed as he drummed his fingers against the side, condensation trickling over his knuckles. “Friday night. That’s like a fun autumn thing, right? People would come to that.”

“I mean, sure,” Ava said after a pause, “but why?”

“Why not?” Eli gestured at the green-gold expanse before them, fields rippling gently in the afternoon breeze. “We finally got the place cleaned up, and we have the space for it. We could see if Mal wants to grill, maybe roast marshmallows and tell ghost stories or whatever you’re supposed to do at one of these things.”

Alex stared down at his half-eaten sandwich, unease and longing duking it out in his chest. He hadn’t been invited to a party since high school, but Sebastian and Elliott and half the town were probably going to be there, and he didn’t want to make it awkward for Eli, not after everything else he’d already done. Maybe they’d do a second one, if he asked nicely. Just the four of them.  

“You’re coming, right?”

Eli was looking at him when he looked up. His heart did a little swoop in his chest.

“I know you don’t really get along with Sebastian and them, but we haven’t had people up here yet, and I think it’d be fun if we could all just hang out for a night.” He raised his eyebrows meaningfully. “Maybe invite Haley, even? She doesn’t have to come, but she’s welcome.”

“Speak for yourself,” Ava muttered.

“C’mon, it’s just one night. Besides.” Eli nudged their shoulders together. “You could invite Leah.”

Ava groaned. “Ugh, fine. Let’s do the stupid bonfire thingy.” She wiped her hands off on her threadbare jeans and stood, but not before Alex caught a smile tugging at her lips. “I’m gonna go text her.”

She all but sprinted inside, screen door banging behind her, and Eli laughed, shaking his head as he turned back to Alex.

“So, what do you think? You wanna come?”

He almost said no. Eli’s other friends didn’t like him—hell, Ava probably wouldn’t like him if she ever found out how he’d almost ruined everything not that long ago—and they’d probably want to drink or something. Haley almost definitely wouldn’t want to go, either, which meant he’d be on his own. He raked his free hand through his sweaty hair and let himself think about it, just for a second. Firelight and smoke and laughter, sitting with people instead of watching from a distance, making jokes and telling dumb stories; Eli sitting next to him; roasted marshmallows and cider and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. It made his chest hurt in a way he couldn’t define, except that it felt good, like how his muscles ached after a tough workout. Maybe it was a bad idea, but maybe Eli was also right and he could at least try. It was just one night.

“Sure,” he said. “Can I bring Dusty?”

*

Friday evening came rolling in crisp with anticipation, and the winds themselves pushed Alex down the road to Whiskey Creek, tugging at his hair and clothes. The sky was a rich blue, fading to green and then purple and pink over the tall black silhouettes of the mountains. No matter how many times he saw it, fall was always beautiful in the Valley. Down by his side, Dusty wagged his tail and darted back and forth, whining eagerly; Alex was also carrying a plate of fresh cookies wrapped in plastic, courtesy of his grandma’s famous recipe, and he kept having to juggle that and the lead so it didn’t get wrapped around his legs and trip him up. After the third rotation, he craned his head over his shoulder.

“Hey, can I get some help?”

“Fine,” Haley said, and took the plate from his hand, looking distinctly sulky.

In truth, Alex was surprised she’d agreed to come at all. He’d expected her to say no as soon as he relayed the invitation. He kind of wanted to ask why, but he also didn’t want to push his luck. Maybe if she actually spent some time on the farm, with all of them, she’d get it, and then they wouldn’t have these dumb arguments anymore. Up ahead, the roof of the farmhouse came into view, smoke drifting towards the sky. Dusty whined, straining at his leash.

“I can’t remember the last time we went to a bonfire,” Alex said, mostly for something to say.

“Shauna Weissman’s party, junior year,” Haley said. “Her friend Rachel kept asking if you wanted to share her blanket.”

“Seriously? I don’t remember that at all.”

“You were too busy talking about gridball with Shauna’s boyfriend the whole night.” Haley gave him one of her more annoying looks, knowing in a way he didn’t like or understand. “Ring any bells?”

“No,” Alex lied.

The last sliver of sun was melting between two peaks in the distance, gold flooding the fields in a last gasp of defiance against the oncoming dark. A fire crackled and danced in the front yard, feasting on loose branches and boards; several bodies milled around it. Their voices were loud enough to be heard from the dirt path just outside the fence. Lawn chairs and an open cooler perched haphazardly around the firepit. Alex swallowed, mouth dry. It wasn’t booze, he reminded himself. Eli had promised no one would drink if he came. And even if it was, it didn’t mean people were suddenly going to get violent. He wasn’t a wuss, he could handle it.

As they got closer, silhouettes resolved into familiar faces. Sebastian and Abigail and Sam chatted amongst themselves while Sam tuned his guitar; Maru and Penny sat with their heads bent together over a book; Elliott laughed with Leah and Ava near the grill as Mal flipped burgers, the three of them with glass bottles in hand. Eli was crouched next to the fire, feeding it with sticks and grass. When he saw them he straightened up and waved.

“Hey, you made it!”

Alex waved back, trying to ignore the way everyone’s eyes slid to him and Haley, and bent down to unclip Dusty from his leash. A blur of shaggy golden fur whirled up the path and almost knocked Eli onto his ass; there was scattered laughter as he tried to get Dusty to sit and was nearly toppled a second time, narrowly dodging dog slobber and happy barking in his ear.

“Sorry,” Alex said, jogging up to rescue him, but Eli just laughed and waved him off, ruffling Dusty’s ears.

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m happy to see you too, buddy,” he cooed, which only made Dusty’s tail thump harder, little puffs of dirt flying around their ankles. “C’mon, I’ll get you a dish with some water for him. You guys want anything to drink?” This was directed at Alex, and Haley, who was hovering a few feet away, arms crossed. “We’ve got cider and juice and iced tea, maybe some other stuff in the cooler.”

“Sure,” Haley said, unenthused. Alex shot her a look. She shot him one right back.

“Well, feel free to help yourself,” Eli said cheerfully, and went inside to grab a dish, screen door banging behind him.

This left Alex hovering awkwardly near the porch steps, where Sebastian and Abigail sat and pretended they weren’t staring and Sam didn’t bother to pretend at all. He did something with the tuners, and his guitar let out an offended squawk. All four of them winced.

“Hey man.”  

“Hey,” Alex said.

“Eli said you were coming.” Sam fiddled with the tuner and strummed again, the noise much more pleasant this time. “You play?”

It took Alex a second to realize what he was talking about. “Uh, kind of. Just the basics.” Out of habit, he glanced around and found Haley fishing a cactus juice out of the cooler, watching Ava and Mal with her mouth set in a thin, glossy line. He tried to beam his thoughts directly into her head— come rescue me —but she ignored him. The screen door banged again.

“I’ve been teaching him a little bit,” Eli said, and came down the steps, setting a dish full of water on the ground for Dusty. “He’s better than he thinks he is.”

“Oh, really? That’s cool.” Sam’s knee bounced as he finished tuning, spiky head bobbing along to the makeshift melody. Abigail sipped her cider. Sebastian said nothing at all. “Hey, you wanna play?”

Alex’s first impulse was to refuse. If it had been a game of catch, that would be one thing, but he was nowhere near as good as Eli or Sam at the guitar. He could already hear them laughing at him. But he’d promised he’d at least try to have a good time, and he didn’t want them to know what a coward he really was, so he swallowed around the sudden tightness in his throat and sat down on the bottom step. His shoulders bumped Eli’s shins when he leaned back.

“Yeah, sure. We can play.”

“Cool,” Sam said. It even sounded like he meant it.

They played music until food was ready, switching guitars between the three of them as Eli gave Alex tips and Sam fiddled around with new songs for his band, complete with terrible nonsense lyrics he made up on the spur of the moment. At some point Sebastian got up and wandered off to smoke, and Abigail went to go grab another cider and sit with Maru and Penny, which was a relief. He still didn’t know how to talk to either of them. Sam made it easy, because Sam was the human equivalent of a golden retriever and wouldn’t know awkward if it stole his wallet. Haley hovered nearby, looking uncomfortable until Alex got up and pulled her down to sit on the stairs, and even though she complained, she stayed. At one point, she decided she wanted a turn, so Sam handed over his guitar and walked her through the basics. She gave up as soon as she’d eked out one clumsy chord progression, claiming her fingers hurt, but there was laughter in her voice and her eyes looked brighter than they had in days. Alex figured he could count it as a win.

“No, keep playing,” she said as she climbed off the porch, reaching into her pocket, and Alex looked up in time for her to snap a couple photos on her phone. He’d told her to bring her camera, but she’d been too busy pouting to bother. Instead of an I told you so, he just grinned instead, playing it up as her phone clicked a third time. If nothing else, she always made him look good.

“You’re not gonna post those online, are you?” Eli asked.

“Not unless you say I can,” Haley said, snapping a fourth one. “You should let me, though. The lighting is really good right now. See?”

She flipped her phone around, held out the screen. The last dying rays of sunset were a faint backdrop to the warmth of the bonfire flickering across their skin, and the three of them were all smiling, hair wind-mussed. In the photo, Alex looked like he was leaning back against Eli’s legs, one arm draped across the guitar, and Eli’s expression was soft, his eyes grey and glittering like the sea in midwinter. Alex’s stomach did something weird, his throat going tight again, and he dropped his gaze back to the guitar. Behind him, Eli cleared his throat.

“I guess it is pretty nice,” he said.

Dinner was burgers and steaks with grilled eggplant and corn dripping with butter on the side, and everyone sat clustered around the fire as they ate, Dusty panting and content at Ava’s feet. He’d already made the rounds several times to get scratches from everyone, and Ava kept sneaking him little bits of meat when she thought Alex wasn’t looking, which meant he wasn’t moving from her side anytime soon. Grease dripped down Alex’s chin from the burger, slicked his fingers as he ate. He washed it down with cold water. Nobody was drinking. No one had brought it up, but there was no booze in sight, and Alex was both relieved and embarrassed. He couldn’t be mad about it, but it still felt like he’d been caught with his pants down. It was fully dark now, the stars marbling the sky silver, and the fields were silver too, wind whistling through the tall grass. The bonfire crackled and leapt wildly, casting long shadows that fractured everyone’s faces into disjointed, alien slivers—eyes, noses, open mouths. Eli sat cross-legged beside Ava, talking to Sebastian. Gesturing with his free hand, so caught up he didn’t seem to notice the butter dripping down his wrist from his half-eaten corncob. The firelight kissed the curve of his cheek, glinted in his dark hair and beard like the stars glinting overhead.

Sebastian glanced up, mid-laugh, and their eyes met. Alex dropped his gaze back to his plate. The smoke in his nose smelled like the woods, like resin and sweet pine. He sneezed.

*

“—but then, she realized, if the dog wasn’t there, who had licked her hand ?”

A chorus of groans went up around the circle. Abigail threw a handful of marshmallows at Sam, who caught one in his mouth, still laughing.

“That’s the worst ghost story I’ve ever heard, dude.”

“Tell a better one, then,” Sam said, and dodged another marshmallow shower.

“Okay, someone other than Sam go,” Eli said, leaning back in his chair. He’d come to sit beside Alex at some point, when Haley vacated her seat to go use the bathroom, and when he stretched his legs out their calves brushed. Dusty sprawled between their feet, snoozing softly. “Someone who knows an actual scary story, please.”

“You don’t think a murderer licking your hand is scary?”

“Terrifying,” Sebastian drawled, joint in hand. Someone had brought pot along, and the pungent funk mingled with the bonfire smoke, cherry glowing red-hot in the darkness as it made its way around the circle. He took a long drag, then passed it to Ava, who took a hit before handing it to Leah. Alex had declined, but it didn’t bother him as much as he thought it might have. Everyone was relaxed, mellow, the breeze catching in the wheat and corn and the treetops and whispering wordlessly in his ears. “I’ve heard scarier stuff on kid’s shows.”

“I might have one,” Elliott said, taking the joint delicately from Leah. Silence fell, their collective attention shifting towards him like the tide, and he exhaled through his nose, smoke wreathing the long shining fall of his hair. He looked like some ancient storyteller, appeared from the darkness of long-gone times to bring them fire and magic. No wonder Eli liked him, Alex thought. Pretentious or not, he knew how to command an audience. “Although I don’t know how frightening it is.”

“Give it a shot,” Abigail said, popping a marshmallow in her mouth. “Can’t be any worse than the last one.”

“Very well.”

Elliott cleared his throat deliberately, and the circle fell silent, save for the crackling of the embers.

“This is a story my grandmother told me when I was a child, about the village she grew up in. It was an old village, not quite so big as Pelican Town but nestled deep at the foot of the mountains, and every night at midnight, something would walk whistling through the woods. It was the same tune every time. An idle tune, wistful, the kind of tune children would sing while running through the village square.”

Elliott pursed his lips and whistled a few notes, bird-like and cheerful. All the hairs on the back of Alex’s neck stood on end. Eli leaned forward, and on his other side, Haley shifted in her seat.

“It started at the edge of the woods, at the end of the bridge that led into town, then made its way through the village, past all the houses and the square and the baker’s and the blacksmith’s shop, and then out past the fences and back into the woods. It only lasted for about an hour, but no matter how far away it got or how deep into the woods it went, everyone could hear the whistling. The same tune, the same path, night after night. My grandmother asked—all the children asked, eventually—and they were told the same thing. Never leave the house, never try to find the source of the whistling. Stay inside with the shutters bolted and the doors locked, and above all, never, ever whistle back.”

It was quiet, so quiet. Even the trees no longer rustled, even the wind no longer stirred the fields. Elliott’s eyes glowed, his hair drenching half his face in shadow. Sam’s charred marshmallow was falling off its stick, frozen halfway to his mouth. Next to him, Maru’s eyes were huge, and she was huddled against Penny’s side, the other girl’s arm around her shoulders.

“Everyone obeyed, more or less, but you know how these things are. Children are curious. They disobey their parents, they need answers to questions better left alone. My grandmother was friends with two other children in the village her age, Nina and Albert. They spent their days roaming the woods and playing in the river, chasing squirrels and picking berries, and they were brave, she said. Brave and foolish. They wanted to know where the whistling was coming from. They wanted to know why the woods were so thick and lush that no one ever came to the village who wasn’t invited, and why the animals all fled on the Summer Solstice and didn’t return for three days. My grandmother wanted to know too, but she was more cautious than they were, and when the time to sneak out came, she lost her nerve. Nina and Albert had spent the night at her house, and just before midnight, she woke her parents up in tears and confessed their plan.”

Eli shivered, and Alex felt it all the way up his own spine.

“Her mother jumped out of bed and sprinted out to the main room, where Nina and Albert were already at the front door. It was unlocked, but she managed to grab them before they ran outside. The whistling had already started, as it did every night, and as it came closer and closer my great-grandmother scolded them, terrified. Told them to be quiet, to think about what they’d nearly done, but Albert… oh, Albert was stubborn, and prone to rebellion, and he was angry about being thwarted, and like all young people he believed he was invincible. So Albert… Albert whistled back, and the whistling stopped.

A shower of embers went up as one of the branches creaked and fell in the pit, and a collective flinch went through the circle. Elliott leaned forward, speaking faster now, and his lilting voice rose and fell in a hypnotic cadence.

“Great-grandmother slammed the door and locked it, and great-grandfather grabbed his gun. Outside it was deathly silent. Then they heard footfalls, coming closer and closer to the door. The five of them huddled there in the main room, holding their breath, waiting, and then there came a tapping at the door. Not a knock, but a faint tap-tap, like a tree branch against a window. Three times it came, she said. Tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap. Polite, almost. And then the whistling started up again.

“This time, though, it wasn’t the same song they heard every night. It was new, and it was wrong, a skin-crawling, bone-deep sort of wrong, where even if you can’t name it you can feel it in your very soul. And with every passing second it got louder and louder, until the plaster shook loose from the walls and the very foundation of the house itself trembled under their feet. My grandmother clapped her hands over her ears, said it felt like they were going to bleed from the noise. They all did, her and Nina and her parents, and she was weeping, and it was only through sheer dumb luck that she looked up when she did. She looked up, and there was Albert, walking unsteadily toward the front door.

“What are you doing, she cried. Albert, what are you doing? But Albert kept heading towards the door, one step at a time. He moved like a marionette with its strings cut, jerky and unnatural, and there was no expression on his face at all. She tried to move, tried to crawl to him, but her legs wouldn’t move. She kept screaming his name—they all kept screaming his name—but he wouldn’t listen. Perhaps he couldn’t, anymore. He reached for the doorknob, and just before he turned it, he looked back at my grandmother with his eyes unnaturally wide and blank. She couldn’t hear him over the whistling, but she read it on his lips.”

The silence was fog-thick, oppressive now. The woods seemed closer than they had a minute ago. Alex’s heartbeat echoed in his temples and under his fingernails. Dimly, he was aware of Eli and Haley pressing close on either side, but they might as well have been on the moon, they felt so far away in that moment. There was only the mouth of the trees, looming in the near-distance, inky-black against the silver sea of the fields.

“What did he say?” Penny asked, and her voice was so soft and tremulous it could have been the wind.

Elliott’s expression shifted, or maybe the fire did.

“He said, it’s waiting for me.

A sharp crack split the air like gunfire. A chorus of yelps and startled screams went up around the circle, and Alex nearly shot out of his seat, heart battering against his ribcage. Dusty shot up with him, barking frantically, and for a second he swore he could hear whistling. It was just the wind, he told himself. Only the wind. Across the circle, Maru and Penny clung to each other, Ava plastered against Leah’s side a few feet away, and it was hard to tell with the light but he could have sworn Sam and Abigail were clutching each other’s hands. But no other sudden noises came, no voices or songs, and after a second Elliott seemed to come back to himself, shaking his head and smiling as he brushed his hair out of his face.

“Goodness, that must have been the fire. We might need another log or two now. My apologies for getting carried away.”

Just like that, the tension broke, and reluctant, relieved laughter and chatter bubbled to the surface in its place, everyone relaxing as Mal got up to gather more sticks and sweetgrass from the nearby pile. Abigail thumped Sam’s shoulder, making him yelp again.

“See? That’s how you tell a ghost story.”

“Ghost stories,” Haley said, unpeeling herself from Alex’s side. “What is this, summer camp?”

The scorn in her voice might have fooled him if it wasn’t for the faint tremble underneath it and the nail marks on his arm. Strangely, both made him feel better. He let out a long breath, heart rate already slowing. It was just a dumb story. Elliott’s grandma probably hadn’t even told it to him. Next to him, Eli laughed uneasily, reaching out to pat Dusty, who’d flopped back down to the ground and was panting like he’d run a country mile.

“Man. I guess I asked for it, huh?”

“Guess so,” Alex said. There was a faint pressure on his knee, and when he looked down Eli’s other hand was there. He must have grabbed it when the log had snapped. There was an awkward beat, and then Eli pulled away, not quite making eye contact.

“Sorry, I didn’t—sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

He wasn’t disappointed, Alex told himself. Eli removing his hand was the polite thing to do. He’d grabbed Alex’s knee on reflex, because jump scares did that sometimes, and now the story was over. No reason to dwell on it.

But try as he might, he couldn’t quite convince himself he’d minded all that much in the first place.

*

The kitchen window had a near-perfect view of the bonfire, reflected flames dancing on the pane. Alex lingered, even though he’d only come in to use the bathroom. Maru and Penny had left, and Mal had disappeared inside a while ago and had yet to reemerge, but everyone else was still sitting scattered around the pit, talking and smoking in the cool night air. Eli had dragged his chair over to sit with Elliott and Leah, their heads bent together, a joint smoking between Leah’s fingers. The cherry glowed ember-hot as she passed it. Alex had never had any interest in trying pot, but he wondered what would happen if he went and sat with them, asked for a hit. If they’d welcome him.

“They’re just friends, y’know.”

Alex whirled around. Ava was leaning on the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, watching him with the droopy, red-eyed look of someone who’d been getting high for the better part of two hours. When he didn’t say anything, she shrugged and came shuffling over, brushing past to get to the fridge.

“I’m just sayin’.”

“Saying… what?”

“Them.” She gestured vaguely over her shoulder, out the window, to where Eli was laughing at something Elliott had said. “Those two. They’re friends. Nothin’ else going on.”

“Okay,” Alex said, unsure why she thought he cared and unwilling to examine the sudden easing of tension in his chest, like a knot had just come undone. “That’s… good?”

Ava turned around holding a water bottle and shut the fridge, and for a second he was worried she was going to say something else, but then she just shook her head and drifted over to join him at the sink.

“It’s nice,” she said. “Having friends out here. Wasn’t sure, when we first got here, but… s’nice.” Alex followed her gaze, out through the window and back to the circle, where Leah was leaning against Elliott’s shoulder, her braid half-undone and face flushed. “Eli had some, back in the city, and I did too, but nobody that…” She trailed off, shook her head like she was coming out of a trance. Flashed him a quick smile. “Ah, s’not important. Thanks for coming out, though. He was really happy you said yes.”

“Oh,” Alex said. Maybe he’d gotten a contact high. That would explain the sudden, immense lightness, almost like he was floating. He shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to keep the grin off his face. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Anytime,” Ava said, and her smile was dreamy now, eyes heavy-lidded. She was looking at Leah through the window again.

“You really like her, huh?”

He hadn’t exactly meant to say it. It just slipped out, sheer curiosity. Ava blinked a couple of times, like she was emerging from a dream, and then her cheeks went a little pink and she nodded, fiddling with her water bottle.

“Yeah. I do.”

 “I think she’d say yes if you asked her out.” Not that it was any of his business, but it seemed unfair to leave her hanging when he’d brought it up in the first place. “If you wanted to, I mean.” He wasn’t sure how it worked, when it was two girls or two guys—was there a specific order to it, or was it a mutual thing? Maybe they did rock-paper-scissors or something.

“Yeah? You think so?” She was looking at him intently now, biting her lip, and he nodded and hoped he was right. He was pretty sure he was right. Every time he saw her lately, Leah was there, and they were always laughing and talking and sitting a little closer than anyone needed to sit, and all of that had to mean something. Probably. Ava looked thoughtful then, like she was going to say something else, but then she just motioned with her head towards the screen door, unscrewing the cap on her water bottle.

“C’mon, we should get back.”

Alex followed, and when they stepped back out onto the porch, Eli looked up. His smile flashed white in the firelight, eyes scrunched up happily as he beckoned them over, and there was the floaty feeling again, bobbing around in Alex’s gut like an untethered balloon. If this was a contact high, it wasn’t so bad, he thought, wooden steps creaking under his feet as he headed for the circle.

It wasn’t bad at all.

Notes:

Really feeling the autumn vibes with this one, despite it being almost summer - thanks for reading!