String Boys Page 8

  Kelly loved it when he looked young and not a thousand miles away.

  “You know what made that wet spot on my jeans,” Seth said, biting his lip wickedly. “I’m pretty sure you have one too.”

  Kelly’s earthy chuckle surprised them both, and he covered his mouth with his hand. “Think, you know, we’ll see those things someday?”

  His face burned, and the tips of Seth’s ears were almost purple.

  “Yeah,” Seth mumbled, looking down at his music as if he was reading the words there. “Pretty sure.”

  Oh good. “Not now, though,” Kelly told him, not even regretful. The afternoon had gone much better than he’d planned.

  “I already started laundry,” Seth said. And then, unaccountably, things were awkward between them, when they’d never been awkward before.

  Kelly saw the music stand all set up, and his heart fell. “Did you want to, uh, practice—”

  “No,” Seth said, meeting his eyes. “You… you know. Sometimes, we watch TV. Think maybe we could watch some TV? Then when my alarm goes off, I can practice again.”

  Watch TV? “Okay….”

  “I have one in my room,” Seth said, his eyes darting away like fish or squirrels. “We could… you know. Just, lie on the bed and, uh….”

  Oh! Kelly got it now. “Cuddle?” he asked, suddenly excited again. This was Seth, making Kelly important.

  “Yeah,” Seth said, nodding. “That.” He swallowed. “Your body’s so warm.”

  Kelly’s heart suddenly throbbed in his throat, and he wanted to feel Seth behind him, the big spoon, as they watched something funny on TV.

  He wanted that more than anything.

  “Okay,” he whispered. “Make sure your phone’s set, okay?”

  Seth nodded.

  Seth led the way, holding his hand unselfconsciously, almost as if they were children. His bedroom was simple. He had a plain blue comforter on the bed and a TV on the sturdy wooden dresser next to it. A laptop sat on a small desk in the corner, next to a framed picture Seth’s dad had taken of the boys the day Seth had graduated from junior high. The whole Cruz family had gone, even though it was a different school, because Seth had presented Matty’s parents with a hand-written invitation two weeks before. Of course, he’d tagged along with them when Matty had his graduation, but this had been special.

  And the picture had them all eating ice cream, with one of Seth’s smiles making a rare appearance.

  There were posters of Disney’s Fantasia and Fantasia 2000 on the other walls, and Kelly knew—because he’d asked—that it was because Seth loved to listen to the music and imagine the cartoons. He’d told Kelly that he did this with almost all his music after seeing those movies. He’d close his eyes and wait for stories to unfold.

  But not tonight.

  Tonight they watched Cartoon Network, which played old shows like Danny Phantom. The feeling of having Seth’s long body behind his was everything he’d ever imagined, and having his hand splayed on the bare skin of Kelly’s stomach was even better. Seth fell asleep for a little bit, probably because he stayed up late doing his homework a lot, and for a blissful moment, Kelly closed his eyes and imagined what being in Seth’s arms would feel like forever.

  It was warm here. And safe. And the world didn’t revolve around Kelly’s chatter. Things were real here, and the important thing—the only thing—was that they were together, and they were touching, and nobody could take that away from them.

  When Seth’s phone went off, Kelly almost cried. He rolled over in Seth’s arms and kissed him, and the kisses were still new, and still special. Seth kissed him back, less urgently than when they’d been on the couch, but less awkwardly too. Finally they pulled back and regarded each other with grave eyes.

  “We’re still boyfriends,” Kelly said, making this a law. “Even when we’re not kissing or holding hands.”

  “Of course.” Seth nodded. “But when we’re alone, we can kiss.”

  “And hold hands,” Kelly said hoarsely.

  “And we don’t have to tell anyone until we’re ready.”

  Kelly let out a sigh. “Do you want to tell anyone?”

  Seth bit his lip like he was trying to trap the shine of his smile behind his teeth, but Kelly was still almost blinded by it. “Of course! Look at you! You’re… you’re beautiful. And you’re funny. And you like me. You’re like the best thing I’ve ever done.”

  Kelly gave him another quick, hard kiss on the mouth before pulling back and rolling off the bed. “I think you’re crazy, you know. You’re a musical genius. I’m just—”

  But Seth came and wrapped his arms around Kelly’s shoulders, holding him tight. Into Kelly’s ear, he said, “You’re everything. Today was the best thing ever. I’ve never been this happy. You’re always my best thing.”

  Kelly nodded, touching his lips to Seth’s callused fingertips. “You’re my best thing too,” he whispered. He didn’t want to mention Seth leaving for Bridgford in the summer, and how that would be the best thing for him. He didn’t want to say that even if Seth didn’t take this opportunity, there were bound to be others. He didn’t even want to say that Seth wouldn’t be able to sneak away from practices that often, because he needed to spend time with his violin, so he could go on to be great and bright and glittery and famous.

  He just knew—deep in his heart, he knew—that Seth was going to have to leave him. Leave this neighborhood. Leave Kelly’s family. Even leave his father, who he thought Seth really loved.

  Because Seth was like a giant, with his head in the sky, touching the sun and the moon. He was too great for this place. That’s why he always had his head in the clouds—because even his head knew that’s where he belonged.

  But his heart was still here, and Kelly was a selfish boy and knew it. He’d keep Seth right there, in his arms, for as long as he could have him.

  When Your Feet Touch the Stars

  MR. PANTALONE left Lone Oak High School at Christmas break, but he left Dr. Boyle with an entire list of things Seth needed to learn so he could be up with the kids at Bridgford.

  Seth did them because they were fun, and because he wanted to make Dr. Boyle proud… and because his father had taken to leaving pamphlets and fliers for Bridgford out on their kitchen table.

  He kept thinking that the decision about Bridgford could be made “later.” Much, much “later.”

  Later, after those stolen moments with Kelly became less important. Became less intoxicating. Became anything, everything that could drive Seth out of bed in the morning and outside to meet Kelly and Matty on the landing.

  Matty greeted him with a thermos of coffee most mornings. The Cruzes had given him the thermos for Christmas, and Kelly took it up every morning to wash, and Matty brought it down with coffee in the mornings. It was sort of their way to get behind all the practicing he had to do. He was often up until midnight, finishing homework for the honors classes, and Matty’s efforts touched him.

  He didn’t have time to spend with the girls anymore, and he missed them. Lily and Lulu were in fourth grade now, and talking about their homework and history and English, subjects Seth enjoyed. He’d liked helping them, listening to them analyze things—Matty and Kelly’s sisters were really smart. Agnes, the baby, was in second grade. Linda walked all three girls to school and picked them up in the afternoon, and Seth was glad.

  They saw Castor Durant almost every other day.

  Hanging with his buddies, all of them skinny, hyper, sped up by whatever they were taking. All of them dirty, pig-eyed, and mean.

  He gave Seth the willies.

  Seth had become better at keeping his head out of the clouds when he and Kelly and Matty were in transit. He and Kelly sat next to each other when they could, without being obvious, but never again would they be caught unawares by getting off at the wrong bus stop, or finding the wrong guy waiting at the bottom of the one they were leaving.

  Castor had taken to bumping into the three of them when th
ey got off the bus, hard enough to leave bruises.

  But Matty didn’t take the bait, and Kelly and Seth knew better than to do it if Matty didn’t.

  Kelly and Seth never held hands walking down the street.

  Matty and Isela were getting serious. Kelly said he’d seen Matty get home from “study sessions” with his sweatshirt on inside out a couple of times. Kelly would shake his head.

  “He’d better not be getting that girl pregnant. Because then we’re stuck with her and her righteous stick up her ass about queer people and shit. Mom and Dad won’t let her or Matty talk about it at the dinner table, but I keep asking them where else they’re gonna hate next.”

  He’d scowl when he said this. “They gonna start hating people browner than us? How’s that work? How about girls? We gonna make girls walk one step behind us? Only marry them when they prove they can squish out a puppy? I don’t get it. They don’t even like science. Matty tried to get out of his science unit because they were teaching evolution, but Mom and Dad said the only thing they had against evolution was that it seemed to make Matty stupider than his ancestors instead of smarter, and they thought he should go to school to figure out how in the hell that happened!”

  Seth had guffawed at that—and then kissed Kelly stupid, until they were both panting and breathless with their hands up each other’s shirts, because this had been during a soccer day when Kelly and Seth got uninterrupted time together to just be them.

  Apparently, just being them involved kissing a lot and feeling each other up a lot, and sometimes licking each other’s chests a lot.

  Seth liked that part, because Kelly had found his nipples and liked to nibble, and that alone could bring Seth off like a bottle rocket most days. But that didn’t mean they hadn’t shoved their hands down the back of each other’s pants already, kneading and squishing and spreading and teasing.

  They hadn’t yet ventured to the front, but it was only February, and they’d been doing this for two months, but not enough, not every day, not nearly enough for them to be familiar enough for Seth’s comfort.

  He was starting to look things up on his computer, though, to see what maybe came next.

  He was starting to think about Kelly before falling asleep at night, his hand drifting below the waistband of his shorts to see what that thing did when he took it out for a ride.

  It could go zero to orgasm in about ten seconds when he imagined it was Kelly’s hand instead of his own.

  Five if he thought about Kelly’s wide, smiling, swollen mouth.

  He started maybe wondering what it would be like to put his mouth on Kelly’s… uh… oh. He couldn’t even think the word “dick” without getting an erection.

  The only time he wasn’t thinking about sex with Kelly—and all the things they could do between touching lips and the other delicious stuff he’d learned on the internet—he was thinking about music.

  It didn’t really leave room for thoughts about changing schools and becoming a part of a statewide orchestra and leaving everything he’d ever known behind.

  In February, Valentine’s Day was on Soccer Wednesday—because sometimes God was kind. It was four days before Seth’s birthday, but he wasn’t really aware of that. His dad would take him and the Cruz family out for ice cream; that was the way of things.

  It was Valentine’s Day that made him crazy.

  All day long, girls from student government ran in and out of classrooms, delivering little white and red carnations. Boys and girls proudly flaunted the flower from their sweetheart, from their crush, or even from their bestie.

  Seth had wanted Kelly to have a flower so bad.

  But if he did, he’d have to buy it. He thought about lying, saying he was buying it for… for… and that was the problem.

  Seth spoke to Matty and Kelly and the kids from the orchestra and that was it.

  He couldn’t even think of a girl he could lie about and say, “This girl has a crush on my friend so I’m buying a flower.”

  The thought of Bridgford suddenly intruded—of being somewhere without Matty and Kelly. Junior high had been a vortex of loneliness. If the Cruz boys hadn’t started going to the same high school, his entire life would be a vast echo chamber of all the dumb things running around his own head.

  In fifth period, a girl from the student council ran into his Pre-Calculus class, a lone flower in her hand. She squinted at the name on the flower, looked around the class, and then read the name out loud, like she’d never heard of this person before, even though they’d both gone to Three Oaks Elementary School together.

  “Seth Arnold?”

  He raised his hand, and she ran the flower over to him. He took it shyly and stroked the petals, wondering if Kelly had found a girl to send it to him.

  But when he opened the envelope, the name said “Amara,” and he blinked in surprise.

  Amara? She was a flutist in the orchestra. They were both first chair players and had to come in for practices on solo work a lot. She was a dreamy, red-haired, moon-pale girl with wide green eyes and a soft pillowy body.

  He stared at the flower and hoped it was just a friend thing, not a crush thing. Oh, please, let it not be a crush thing!

  He contemplated throwing it away but didn’t. That would be hurtful. Kelly would understand if a girl had a crush. Amara wouldn’t understand if he trashed her thoughtfulness.

  He pinned the flower to his shoulder and smiled a little at the teacher.

  “Someone has a special friend?” the teacher asked kindly. He was a big solid family man, with a sunburned face and red neck from coaching track. Seth was on his team, and Mr. Lipinski liked to give them high fives when they turned in their homework or bettered their time.

  “Just a friend,” Seth said. “But it was kind. Everybody likes to feel special.”

  Most of the class looked at him in surprise. “Seth, that’s the most you’ve said all year,” Mr. Lipinski said in awe. “I wonder what would happen if someone you really cared about gave you a flower.”

  Seth grinned, imagining Kelly’s eyes over a single carnation. “I’d be speechless,” he said before clapping his hand over his dorky little laugh.

  Too late. The teacher laughed with him, and the class did too. Seth left fifth period in a happy daze and ran right into a very unhappy Kelly.

  “You got a flower?” he asked, his voice pitching in outrage as he grabbed Seth’s arm and hustled him to the spot behind a bank of lockers and next to a closed classroom.

  “From a friend,” Seth said, hoping that would calm him down. “She’s shy too. I have to wear it or it would hurt her feelings.”

  Kelly scowled. “What about my feelings?”

  Seth bit his lip. “Well, I have a….” Oh, he’d just planned to give Kelly this and not tell him about it first. “I have a card,” he said, voice low. “For you. For your feelings.”

  Kelly perked up. “Really?”

  Oh, how embarrassing. “I, uh, wanted to buy you flowers, but you’d have to explain them to people and….” He shrugged.

  Kelly nodded and bit his lip. “Okay. You win. Feelings good. You can wear her flower so she doesn’t get hurt none. It’s okay.”

  The urge to kiss him was so strong, Seth’s heart practically beat in his lips.

  The locker next to them slammed, and Kelly jumped back, hustling down the hallway after giving Seth a long backward glance.

  His heart was in his eyes, and Seth was suddenly glad he’d kept Amara’s flower.

  His eyes, his lips, his sleeve—having his heart anywhere but his chest left him with a tremendous ache.

  “Seth?”

  Amara was sitting in her customary chair as he walked into Advanced Orchestra, and her look at him was so hopeful, he hurt for her.

  “Thank you,” he said with a gentle smile. “This was thoughtful.”

  Her face bloomed—that was the only word for it. Suddenly she looked every inch a delicate pale rose.

  “You’re welcome. I was
wondering… do you… you know? Have a date for the dance on Friday?”

  Seth frowned. “There’s a dance Friday night?”

  She laughed. “Yes, Seth. Dance Friday. I guess that means you aren’t going with anyone?”

  Oh, how to do this…? “I… I wasn’t, but….”

  Her face fell, and he nodded her over to the band locker, where he was putting his backpack and pulling out his violin. “This was really nice,” he said, his voice low. “But I have a… a friend already. We’re not going to the dance, though.”

  She pursed her rather adorable pink mouth, and her eyebrows did a jumping thing that he usually only saw in the very intelligent giant dog that he and Kelly tried to pet when they were picking the girls up from school. “But… but why? Why wouldn’t you go to the—” She stopped talking and her green eyes grew huge. “Uhm….”

  “What?” he said. “Uhm what?”

  “Is your friend not a girl?”

  “I have no idea what you mean,” he said, but his voice was all over the place, and he knew his lower lip quivered too.

  “Shh….” She patted his hand. “It’s okay, Seth. Calm down. You have a friend. You’re not going to the dance. That’s all I needed to know. I’m sorry I pried.” She looked a little sad but not destroyed. And her hand on his was everything.

  Suddenly he could breathe again. He caught her hand and squeezed it. “I really did like the flower,” he said softly. “It was really sweet. I’m sorry I can’t be… you know. That friend.”

  “But I am a friend, right?” she asked, and that it seemed that important to her meant the world to him.

  “Of course.”

  “Can I…?” She looked away, embarrassed. “Can I sit with you at lunch, then? I know you sit with the Cruz boys, but I was eating lunch in the library, and the cheerleaders have sort of taken over there, and they’re all talking about salads and how to lose weight and….” She gestured to her lush body and shrugged. “I just want to eat lunch with someone. Sorry. I’ll go now. We’re starting—”