String Boys Page 5

  Seeing Kelly was so much a part of Seth’s life by then, not seeing him would have seemed odd.

  One day in November, Kelly’s sophomore year, they were riding the bus together, late because Seth was practicing for the winter holiday performance, when Kelly gave a little yawn and slumped sideways against him.

  Seth wrapped his arm around Kelly’s shoulders and let him rest his head on Seth’s chest, and he had a small revelation.

  Kelly’s face wasn’t round anymore.

  It wasn’t rectangular like Matty’s, though. He still had dimples in the corners of his cheeks, and a little cleft in the center of his pointed chin. His eyes were round, with long, dark, thick lashes, and he had a tiny black mole on his cheek, back by his ear.

  And he smelled good.

  It was the same soap Matty used—Seth could smell it on Matty when they had gym class together. Seth knew the fresh smell of Matty’s soap.

  But it wasn’t the same on Kelly.

  On Kelly, it seemed sweeter and sharper. Like cedar shavings. More real.

  His lips were a pink shade of the pale bronze of his skin.

  And soft. And pillowy.

  Seth stared at Kelly for the rest of the bus ride, trying to fit this new Kelly into his mind and wishing he didn’t have to.

  This was Matty’s kid brother. Seth’s life would be… incomplete if he wasn’t there, all hours of the day, insinuating himself into Seth’s blood.

  He couldn’t be seeing Kelly any different than he had since they were little kids, could he? Kelly. Who still talked the ears off a chipmunk if you let him. Who could prattle on about his English teacher and how she looked old but she was going to go out and start a revolution single-handedly if it killed her, and about the young math teacher who had just had her third kid and looked like death all the time, and how Kelly was going to ask his mom if she could make poor Mrs. Hennessy some hot chocolate for Christmas because that woman needed a mommy like nobody else and his mommy was the best.

  Kelly.

  Who sat in Seth’s living room and listened to Seth play and drew random pictures and smiled just at the sound of scales.

  Seth must have made a sound or something—something different about his breathing, maybe—because Kelly’s eyes flew open, sparkling brown, lively, and definitely not stupid.

  “What?” Kelly asked, wiping a self-conscious hand across his lips, looking for drool. “I totally got spit all over you, right?” He made to pull away, and for a moment, Seth’s arms tightened.

  No. Kelly was warm in his arms, and again, his smell heated Seth’s blood.

  Kelly stopped for a moment, and a little red-bronze crescent appeared on his cheekbones. “Keeping me warm?” he whispered.

  Seth gaped at him, unable to find a good reason for holding him so close. The moment suspended there, as the two of them stared at each other, breathless, until Kelly suddenly bounded up. “Hey, that’s our stop!”

  “Sorry, kid,” the bus driver responded. “I’ll let you off on the next block.”

  “Dammit,” Kelly muttered. “It’s raining outside.”

  “I’m sorry,” Seth whispered, feeling stupid about being caught completely unawares. “I’m sorry. I just… zoned out—”

  Kelly met his eyes and shook his head, reminding Seth so much of Kelly’s father that Seth’s tongue stopped trying to apologize. “I know what happened,” Kelly told him, his voice surprisingly mild.

  And then he winked.

  Seth swallowed and stood, waiting for the bus to come to a stop.

  They got out just as the rain kicked in harder, and the two of them hustled to the nearest shelter. This stop used to open up into a small strip mall, little storefronts close together with alleyways between them and overhangs. The stores had all closed down, and the windows had been broken and boarded up and broken and boarded up and broken again. It wasn’t a safe place, no—they had to dodge needles and condoms and trash to get to the place between the buildings where the overhang offered shelter. The good news was, the back opened up to a small field. If they could cross that field, they’d be in the back porch of the first fourplex of their block, and they’d be safe.

  But for the moment, they’d walked to the back of the tiny alleyway and were looking out from the overhang, waiting for the rain to stop pounding as if it was trying to drill a hole in their heads.

  “Sorry about the bus stop,” Seth muttered. “This place is pretty gross.”

  Kelly nodded. “Yeah. Matty says Castor Durant hangs out in the old laundromat—but not when it’s raining. The roof’s no good. It floods.”

  Seth grunted. They’d all kept an ear to the ground for Castor Durant. He was back in the high school Matty had been headed for before he got his grades up. The rumors about that kid were unsettling—he’d been suspended once for hitting a teacher with a balled-up roll of tape. The only reason he hadn’t been expelled was that she hadn’t seen him do it, but everybody knew.

  And what he did to students unwary enough to fall in his sway was worse.

  “So we’re lucky it’s raining?” Seth wrinkled his nose, and Kelly laughed at him. They’d both grown, but where Seth probably had two or so more inches to go, Kelly had stopped about two inches from where Seth was now. He was going to be five-six, maybe five-seven, for the rest of his life, and his childhood plumpness had washed away, leaving him slender and tightly built. But his small size never seemed to stop him. He always stared up at the world with that same laughing-eyed joy that Seth saw now.

  Seth stared back at him, just as entranced as he had been on the bus, but now it was worse, somehow.

  Kelly was biting his lip, his eyes wise.

  “You just saw it, didn’t you?” he asked, his dimples popping out.

  “Saw what?” Seth asked, helpless. He wanted to touch Kelly’s cheeks, feel the little dent in skin.

  “Saw my face and thought, ‘Oh, it’s Kelly,’ and not ‘Oh, it’s Matty’s little brother.’”

  Seth shook his head. “You’ve always been Kelly,” he replied with confidence. And then, shaken. “What’s different?”

  Kelly let out a soft chuff of air. They were standing so close, it brushed Seth’s chin, and he moved his finger to his own face, trying to still the tingle.

  “Two years ago, in the eighth grade, I went to dances,” he whispered. “Remember?”

  Seth nodded. “Yeah. Your mom got mad because she couldn’t chaperone.”

  “Thank God,” Kelly returned with feeling. “So I made out with two girls at those dances. ’Cause they were funny and they wanted to dance, and making out seemed like what you were supposed to do.”

  Seth’s stomach went cold. “Awesome,” he muttered. He hadn’t made out with anyone. It was just… just… getting home and practicing his next piece always held more fascination to him. Being there to walk Kelly home, to have their own quiet after-school club, just the two of them, seemed so much more important.

  “No,” Kelly said, shaking his head sadly. “I mean, pleasant, but not awesome. And then Jimmy—you remember him? We used to sit at lunch together because the grades couldn’t mix?”

  “Jimmy Durreson?” Seth remembered. He was a white kid, which wasn’t that common. Dark blond hair, a big dent in his chin. Green eyes.

  A wave of panic crashed into Seth, like it had just been waiting to douse him as he stood on the shore of oblivion.

  Cute.

  Jimmy Durreson was damned cute.

  Kelly nodded, mischief in his smile. “Yeah. Jimmy frickin’ Durreson. We were at the dance together, and we got bored, and we went outside to use the bathrooms and didn’t come in right away. And it was spring and just us, and he stops me and says, ‘Wanna make out?’ And I did. And it was awesome. And he wanted to do it again. Wanted to be boyfriends.”

  Oh God. “You have a boyfriend?” Panic in his voice.

  Kelly patted his cheek gently. “You’re so pretty, but oh my God. There’s shit you don’t see. No, I don’t have a boyfri
end. Not yet.”

  Seth nodded, trying to still the surge of jealousy that had followed the panic. “But if you thought it was awesome—”

  Then Kelly kissed him.

  Oh dear heavens, Kelly kissed him.

  His plush little mouth was soft on Seth’s, and that amazing smell Seth had just discovered filled his senses. Kelly’s warmth blocked out the chill of the November rain.

  Seth gasped, and Kelly pushed his tongue in, just enough to taste, and Seth closed his lips and sucked lightly.

  Kelly pulled away and smiled, biting his lip.

  “Jimmy wasn’t that awesome,” he whispered. “It was good. Jimmy Durreson is a good kisser. But he doesn’t taste like you.”

  Seth kissed him back, licking along the seam of his lips, sighing when Kelly let him in. Kelly opened his mouth fully, and Seth thrust his tongue inside, wanting to taste him. Kelly’s tongue met him halfway, and they stroked each other, stunningly intimate, terrifying.

  Not scary enough to make him stop.

  Seth groaned, wanting more… more… more what?

  The question pulled him back, and he leaned his forehead against Kelly’s.

  “We’re kissing,” he gasped.

  “You noticed!” Kelly teased, nuzzling Seth’s cheek. “You want to do it some more?”

  Seth’s whole body tingled, so many parts he wasn’t sure if he could inventory them all. He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, but….” He pulled away and looked around them. The dank little alley, the rain that had finally let up. “Not here,” he said. “We… we have tomorrow. It’s your day to sit and draw while I practice—”

  Kelly nodded excitedly. “Think maybe you can practice a little less?” he urged. “Just a little? ’Cause I gotta tell you, I’ve been waiting since eighth grade for that, and it was awesome, but I want to do more.” He wrinkled his nose, which was still on the small side, and nodded. “Not here, ’cause you’re right. It’s gross. But… back then, in eighth grade, Jimmy Durreson said, ‘You wanna do it more?’ and I said, ‘Yeah, but not with you.’” Kelly’s face fell. “I coulda said that better. He was hurt. He didn’t sit with me for a week until I explained that I just really had it bad for you and I wanted you to kiss me. And then he said that was okay, he was glad we got to make out just once, and it was ok—”

  Seth kissed him again. Partly because he didn’t want to hear one more damned word about Jimmy Durreson, but mostly because it was their last time before the next day.

  He hated that he had to wait an entire day before he tasted Kelly again.

  It was almost unbearable.

  But Kelly kissed him back, and Seth got a little better at it. He understood that it was about being slow, and about taste, and that somehow all the things happening with their mouths were spreading to other parts of their bodies. Kelly raised his hand to Seth’s stomach, encountering his jacket, and Seth pulled away.

  “Tomorrow,” he promised. “We won’t have jackets on.”

  Kelly grinned. “Nope. It’ll be good. It was so worth telling Jimmy no.” His grin faded. “I… I’m not sure how long I knew in my heart I wanted it to be you I kissed, but it feels like my whole life. Like when Matty talks about his girlfriends, all I can picture is you.”

  Seth closed his eyes and tried analyze. “You always made me so happy,” he said, shrugging. “I just didn’t think about girls at all.”

  Kelly pretended to ponder for a moment. “I’ll take it,” he said with an impish little hop. “Now are you ready? We gotta run fast because it’s fixing to pour again.”

  Seth looked out at the sky, which was, as Kelly said, growing darker.

  But if they ran now, they could go inside.

  And if they went inside, they could go to school tomorrow.

  And after school tomorrow, they would be in Seth’s house.

  Alone.

  With this newfound exciting activity.

  Seth was so happy he ducked his head and planted a little kiss on Kelly’s cheek.

  “One, two—”

  “Three!” Kelly cried. And together they charged out into the rain.

  WATCHING KELLY walk up the steps to his apartment was unexpectedly hard. Seth swept inside his own door thoroughly preoccupied, barely remembering to pull his instrument case out of its special vinyl carrier that he used in the rain. He set it by the door and stripped off his sopping wet jacket—and only then registered that his father was already home.

  He was in by the tiny dining room table, setting up takeout.

  Seth stared at him blankly. Chinese food. His favorite.

  “Dad?”

  His father turned and smiled warmly, as though he knew Seth had been distracted. “You noticed. Go wash your hands.”

  “You’re home early.”

  “Well, I figured we had something important to talk about.”

  Seth wasn’t sure what his expression was, but all he could think about was that kiss, that wonderful shining kiss, and how he wanted to do more of it, and how that meant… oh God. What did it mean? Gay? He was gay? And he hadn’t told his father?

  His dad laughed gently. “Seth, in a million years, I can’t imagine you doing something that would make your eyes look like that. Now move it!”

  Seth nodded and tried to still his breathing. If his dad knew about Kelly and being gay and all the things Seth hadn’t even thought of until just… just… ten minutes ago, it wasn’t bad. And if he didn’t know about all that other stuff, what else could it be? Oh God. Seth knew he wasn’t always grounded, that his head was often somewhere else. What had he missed? He tried to connect with the people around him, tried to avoid being lured by the next note, the next chord, the next piece, all the music whirling in his head.

  “What?” Dad asked as Seth sat down.

  “Are you seeing anyone?” Seth blurted. Because that could be a thing. Seth wasn’t sure how he’d feel about having a stepmom. He guessed seeing his dad be happy in theory was a good thing, but—

  “No!” Dad was staring at him in surprise. “No. What would make you say—”

  “I don’t understand Chinese food.”

  Dad laughed a little. “Well, son, I think we’ve established that you eat it.”

  Seth blinked at him and smiled self-consciously. He had to calm down. If he didn’t relax just a smidge and at least try to appear human, he might scream, “I think I’m gay, and I kissed Kelly, and I want to do it again!” at the top of his lungs before running out into the dark and stormy night.

  “I mean why are we having it?” he said, enunciating every word. “I haven’t done anything bad. Did you get a promotion?” And then, oh horror! “We’re not moving, are we?”

  “No,” his dad said slowly. “At least, I’m not.” He set down his box of orange chicken—his favorite—and looked Seth full-on in the eyes. “Son, were you even going to tell me about Bridgford?”

  Seth jerked back. “What about it? The rich kids are going there next year.”

  Mr. Boyle had told them all about applying to Bridgford two months ago. Seth had listened with half an ear and figured he was talking about the other kids, not the kids who took the city bus from Seth’s neighborhood.

  “Dr. Boyle called me to ask if you’d considered a scholarship. So I applied online, Seth. You’re good for a full ride. That could be room and board for the rest of this year, next year, and your first two years of college if you wanted it—and a fast track to your next two years at one of their feeder colleges. Aren’t you even interested?”

  Seth gaped at him. “You want me to leave?” he asked, wounded to the center of his mass. “I… I thought I didn’t have to go anywhere until graduation.”

  His father blinked. “No. I don’t want you to go. I’m not trying to get rid of you, Seth. I want you to fly.” He picked up a forkful of orange chicken and chewed thoughtfully. “I was supposed to go to college,” he said with a sigh. “I was in junior college, my parents had money saved. But….” He smiled—a faded version of t
he one Seth had only seen in pictures.

  “I fell in love with your mother. And they weren’t happy about that. And then we had you. I thought you were a miracle, but they weren’t happy about having a grandson either. So, no college for me. And then your mom died and….” He swallowed, and Seth felt the pain all over again.

  “Your grandparents were nice to me, Seth. I don’t want you to think they weren’t. But they thought I’d just give you to them when she died. And you were all I had left of her. So when I got the chance to work out here, I took it.”

  He shook his head, all pretense at eating Chinese food completely gone. “There’s no excuse for me, when I started drinking. None. I think about….”

  His voice grew rough, and Seth’s body chilled to zero. Oh, he hated thinking about that time, and obviously, so did Dad. “I remember those days, and the planet isn’t big enough for my shame. But I think it started when I took the job out here. It was just me and you. And I missed… everybody. My parents were…. I won’t let them near you. Ever. And Kesha’s parents weren’t speaking to me either. You and me were so alone. There’s no excuse for me, for what I did, but I’ll tell you now… that time had its roots in being so lost in my own heart because I had no people around me to guide me. If it hadn’t been for the Cruz family, we would have been lost, and I think you know that.”

  Seth did know that, and that’s why he had wanted to stay. But he didn’t know how to say that. It seemed his father had all the words anyway.

  “But you, Seth, you have opportunities. You can go out in the world and know I’m right here to come back to. You can move to Almond Lakes and go to Bridgford, and come here for long weekends and holidays. It’s right by San Francisco—we’ll see each other. You… you can have the life my parents wanted for me, but without all the… the strings that went with it, you know? You can have it all, free and clear.”

  Seth bit his lip, his eyes burning. He didn’t want to go. He knew, objectively, that college was coming and that he’d have to be making decisions soon. He’d been planning to take the PSATs in the spring. But this… this was so soon. Kelly! That’s a whole four years without Kelly!