Authors: Zane Riley
“But he’s going to wake up, right?” Will demanded. Karen squeezed tighter and Will tugged his arm free. For the first time since this morning, her expression scared him more than seeing his father passed out on the floor had. If a trained nurse looked that terrified by this news, it was worse than it sounded. Maybe fatal. “Can’t you wake him up?”
“Will, there’s—”
“No, I want to hear it from them!”
But Karen eased him into her embrace. This wasn’t happening. His dad was fine. He was at home in his stupid reclining chair, snoring and drooling all down his shirt with the television up too loud and one shoe still dangling off his toes.
“Shh, it’ll be fine. I’ve got you. I’m right here.” Karen hugged him. “I’ll talk with them after we see him, okay? He’s going to be fine, we just have to give him time to recover.”
But Will didn’t want her to be right here. More than anything, he wished it was his father holding him tight as he cried and telling him he was being ridiculous for worrying about him. That it was
his
job to worry about Will skinning his knees or badmouthing the wrong kid at school.
“We’ll take you to see him,” Doctor Carson said. “He’ll be cool to the touch right now since we’ve brought down his core body temperature, but that will only last for about twenty-four hours. Then we’ll warm him up, and when he wakes up we’ll see how he is functioning.”
After Will washed the tears and snot off his face, he and Karen were shown to a hospital room. Will lingered in the doorway as Karen stepped inside. He saw a nest of tubes on the bed and a Dad-shaped lump poking out from underneath it. Ben’s bristly gray hair was just visible over the top of the mess of tubes.
“It’s a little scary-looking,” Karen told him as she pulled a chair over to Ben’s bedside. “But all of these are helping him, okay?”
“I know,” Will said. “I’m not five. You don’t have to—” He bit his lip and looked down at his sneakers. They were his dad’s. He’d grabbed the first pair by the door on the way out earlier. He wondered if his shoes were still in the garage as Karen had said. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right. Here, sit down.”
Will sat as Karen pulled another chair up beside him. She took Ben’s hand and massaged his fingers and the veins running along the back of his hand.
“Hi,” Karen began and, to Will’s surprise, she didn’t look embarrassed. “Will’s here, too. We’ll be here until you wake up, okay?”
Will watched her and kept silent. What was the point in talking to his dad now? He couldn’t hear it. Talking to him was no different than staying silent. Still, when Karen left to talk extensively with the doctors, Will sat with his dad. He followed the rise and fall of his chest and tried to convince himself that he was only sleeping.
They returned home that night. She called him to dinner, but Will ignored her. After three tries, she said goodnight. It was weird not having his dad in the house. His dad had always been there. It was only now that he realized he and Karen had never been on their own. Not for a full day, and not for—
Was this going to be forever?
The next morning, Will left as the sun was coming up. Karen had told him he could stay home, but Will couldn’t stand the idea of sitting around and thinking about his dad and those tubes. He had to get out, to get moving and thinking about whatever his teachers put in front of him for the next eight hours, or whatever gossip his friends could clog his ears with.
He was the first in the band room. Mr. Robinette wasn’t even there yet, but he’d left the door unlocked. Will let himself in, pulled his trombone out of his instrument locker and was getting ready to set up the chairs and stands when he heard music from the storage room. Will set his case and backpack down and crept closer. Who else was here this early?
The door was ajar and Will peered in as a few more keys were plucked on the piano. Maybe it
was
Mr. Robinette. Nobody else could play a piano; Will wasn’t even sure Mr. Robinette could. But it wasn’t Mr. Robinette sitting on the bench just inside the door.
It was Lennox.
Lennox played a few chords and tested the pedals on the piano. It wasn’t anything like the one they’d had at home. He’d grown up crawling all around that beautiful grand piano in the foyer while his mother practiced. By the time he was three, she’d managed to pin him to her lap and show him one of the many melodies he could play with ease now.
Or could a few years ago, anyway.
“Damn it.”
Lennox’s fingers slipped again, and he shook his hair out of his eyes. It was getting long, and he couldn’t afford a haircut. He stopped to listen and to reimagine the notes and bars in his head. That was all he had left of those old songs. Any sheet music had disappeared when his father died.
He listened to the stillness of the storage room and the building around him. It was so quiet this early. Not even the teachers were in. Lennox let his fingers caress the keys, let them dance down a scale and then back up. Everything was still there. All the harmony and calm he’d once found between the keys and his fingers was still in reach. His fingers struggled to reach those old harmonies, to dip into the tranquility instead of rupturing it like soap bubbles. With a little practice to refresh his mind and fingers, he’d be there again.
His fingers began to move once more. Lennox shut his eyes and gave himself over to it, let his fingers remember what his mind could only cling to. Then the door creaked. Lennox stopped.
“Sorry.” It was Will. His green eyes and freckles peeking through the barely-cracked doorway gave him away. He shut the cover on the keys and stood.
“Musical seizure,” he said as he shoved the door open and almost knocked Will over. “I walked here in my sleep.”
Will righted himself and gave him an odd look. “Because the best place to have a musical seizure is in a band room.”
“Just like the best person to give a blow job to is you,” Lennox agreed. “Now, we still have twenty minutes before Robinette gets here, so drop your pants and—”
“It was beautiful.” Will started pulling chairs off a stack and setting them up in semi-circles. “What you were playing, I mean. I wish I could play a tune half as well as three of your fingers.”
“You could sit on three of my fingers,” Lennox suggested. Will barked out a laugh that was very unlike him. “Is that a laugh of interest or mockery?”
Will didn’t answer, but continued setting up the chairs. Lennox joined him. He had nothing else to do, and something was off. Nobody was here this early, not even him most days. Will’s demeanor was stiff, mechanical. He moved like a rusty suit of armor and his eyes were blank instead of sharp and judging.
“Have you played long?” Will put the last chair down along the back for the percussionists. “You should show Mr. Robinette. He’ll be tickled to have someone proficient at piano. We can finally—”
“Fuck,” Lennox said, but his voice cracked. Will shouldn’t have been here; he shouldn’t have seen him play. He shouldn’t have been a lot of things. “We can finally fuck instead of talk.”
“Why? So you can get what you want again and toss me aside?” Will spun around and Lennox almost fell over. “I’m
not
your plaything. And I don’t care how attractive you might be if you don’t have kindness to go with it. I am
done
with whatever this is between us.”
Before Lennox could say anything, the door opened. Mr. Robinette appeared, carrying his briefcase like a weapon. When he spotted Lennox and Will, he let out a deep breath.
“For a moment I thought—how did you two get in here?”
“The door was unlocked when I got here,” Will said. The look on his face told Lennox he wouldn’t get any help from him.
“I’m handy with a lock.” Lennox shrugged and ignored their expressions. “I didn’t steal anything. Everything worth money in here is bolted down.”
“All the same, if you want access to any of the instruments early, you need to ask me for permission instead of picking locks,” Mr. Robinette said. He looked around at the set-up chairs and the sternness sagged out of him. “Thank you both for setting up for class. Next time,” he added to Lennox, “ask me.”
Lennox watched him head into his office as Will pulled out music stands and spaced them out along the rows. The rest of the class poured in and, despite his efforts, Lennox couldn’t get Will to say anything else. He took his seat in the back and watched. What more could Will want from him? They bickered, they kissed, they’d started to do a bit more, and that was good. But Will didn’t think so.
Will and Natasha took the seats in front of Lennox, but they weren’t giggly as usual. Instead, Natasha pulled Will into a hug he barely returned.
“How is he? Has there been any change?”
Lennox listened with one ear as the percussionists rolled in the drums. Had what changed? Who was “he”?
Will shook his head and the bell rang. “No. How does everyone know?”
“Roxanne. I texted her after you called me and, well, anything you tell her spreads like the Black Plague.”
Throughout the announcements, more students came over to Will and they all seemed to have the answers Lennox didn’t. Usually, half of these kids never spoke to Will; the others laughed and made fun of him. Today, almost all of the class came over and passed on sympathies from their parents, a few expressed them for themselves. Most of the boys sneered as they said whatever they said, but Will didn’t seem to notice.
It was as if someone had died.
Otto dropped into a seat beside Lennox.
“Yo, how’s your dad?”
Will turned, looking surly and red-eyed. It struck Lennox then what was so off. Will’s eyes were puffy and ringed with red. He’d been crying, and it didn’t seem to have anything to do with Lennox. How had he missed that?
“About the same,” Will said shortly. “Your mom would know better than me. She works there with Karen.”
“I know, but I figured it was right to ask you,” Otto grumbled. He gave Natasha a filthy look. “What? Like you didn’t ask.”
“I care when I ask,” Natasha said. “You’re just being a nosy ass.”
“He’s my friend, too.”
“Is that why you had him cornered in the parking lot with the rest of your football buddies?” Lennox said. All three of them turned around. “Forgot to mention that to everyone else, have you?”
“And what does it matter to you?” Otto demanded. “You’re only a pain in everyone’s ass, so butt out.”
“Guys, settle.” Mr. Robinette called for attention and, slowly, the kids took their seats. Lennox sat back behind the bass drum and didn’t participate. Will’s dad—that burly, raging man from the parking lot—was… dead? No, Otto had asked how he was. Maybe he was dying. Sick or something. For the rest of class, Lennox watched Will, but the other boy didn’t even glance at him. He didn’t look at anyone or play, but Mr. Robinette let it go.
Whatever was wrong, it must be bad.
At the end of class, Lennox went out into the hall with the rest. Otto shoved his way past him while Will shuffled alongside Natasha. For a moment, Lennox started to follow them, but Otto had gone into the boys’ room at the top of the hallway. Whatever was happening, pestering Will wouldn’t help. He might have better luck with Otto. Lennox ducked into the bathroom and planted himself at a urinal. Otto had disappeared into a stall, but he flushed and reappeared a few short minutes later.
Otto jerked the faucet on. “What do you want?”
“Can’t a guy take a piss?” Lennox zipped up as Otto scrubbed his hands as though they were rust stains on a car hood. “What’s up with Will’s dad?”
Otto rinsed his hands. “Doing what every dad does eventually, isn’t he? Either run off the road or just run off.”
Lennox couldn’t argue with that. Will’s dad, however, didn’t strike Lennox as someone who would leave or recklessly lose his own life, not with the way he’d reacted to Lennox.
“He had a heart attack. He’s in a coma or something. What’s it matter to you?”
No warning, just like with his mother. He’d come home to find her cold on the floor of his parents’ room, and for a moment Lennox could see Will stepping through his front door to the sight of that hulking man unconscious on the floor.
“It doesn’t,” Lennox said, but his chest grew tight. “It’s just that everyone’s talking about it.”
He washed his own hands and waited for Otto to leave, but he didn’t. He stood there, watching Lennox.
“You going to try to jump me now?” Lennox asked.
“Like that’s worth it,” Otto grumbled. “I can’t miss more practices over you. Or him. Or any more fights. I’m not getting a thing like that stuck on my ankle.”
Lennox glanced down at the familiar green lights blinking around the cuff of his jeans. “You wouldn’t last a day in a juvenile prison.”
“If a shrimp like you can, then—”
“You wouldn’t.” Lennox started for the door, but Otto blocked his path. “Move before I bruise your face again.”
“What? You don’t have time to be the tough queer right now?” Otto’s forearm slammed into his chest and Lennox let him push him back against the wall. With Otto, violence was a big show and Lennox had never been safer with a behemoth baring his teeth a few feet away. “Got nothing to say?”
Lennox adjusted his shoulders against the wall and relaxed. “What’s there to say? You’re a two-faced punk with a lot of hot air coming out of his mouth. You don’t have any idea what Will’s going through or what it’s like to be in deep shit and be sent to juvie. You wouldn’t last a day in there because you can’t even last a day out here without getting upset and pouty.”
Lennox ducked and Otto’s arm hit the wall. He didn’t stop on his way out, and Otto didn’t follow. He got to class late, was given detention for consecutive tardies and spent all day listening to whispers about Will and his dad.
By the time he arrived in chemistry, Lennox was sick of listening to the whispers, and, judging by Will’s expression, he was too. Mrs. Mentore hurried over to Will as soon as he sat down.
“I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.”
She sat down on the empty stool between Will and Lennox. Lennox tried his best to look as if he wasn’t listening.
“I can’t miss classes,” Will said. “I’ll have too much to make up and it’s my senior year. I can’t fall behind or my grades won’t be good enough for college applications.”
“Okay. If you need a break at any point, you can just step out,” Mrs. Mentore told him. “Emily’s out sick today, so you can skip the lab or do it solo.”
“Or with me,” Lennox interjected.
Mrs. Mentore turned to him and nodded. “Or with Lennox, if you’re feeling brave.”
“I’m not afraid to play with fire.”
“Well, that makes one of us.” Mrs. Mentore stood up with the bell. Lennox took her stool. “Everyone, lab sheets are on my desk. Extra instructions are on the board. This is a fun one, just to ease us into this second unit. You’ll get ice cream when this is over, if you do it right.”
A murmur of excitement trickled around the room as everyone rushed to grab sheets and get started. Lennox dropped theirs down on the desk and looked at Will instead.
“I bet I can give you something that tastes better.”
“Dick can’t beat ice cream,” Will said, but his old flare wasn’t there. A week ago, he would have said something scathing, maybe, “I’m flexible enough to reach my own, and ice cream is definitely better.” Only the Will he’d met wouldn’t be as crude as he’d just been. He’d have thought of something Lennox couldn’t.
“Yours could,” Lennox said as he pressed their sides together and slid his hand into Will’s back pocket. Will needed a distraction.
Will worked on their assignment while Lennox prattled on. He kept a hand on Will, rubbing his hip, and talking so that Will couldn’t stop to think or get more than halfway through the lab.
“Lennox, stop.”
His hand froze, but he kept it on Will’s hip. “Why? The way you’re shivering tells me you like it. Besides, it’s a good distraction.”
Will sniffed but he leaned a little closer and yawned. That wasn’t the reaction Lennox had hoped for, but he squeezed Will’s side and bumped their hips together.
“You aren’t supposed to yawn until after orgasm,” Lennox said. “Natural reaction afterward and all of that.”
Mrs. Mentore called for clean-up and Will hurried away from Lennox with their dirty supplies. While Will washed everything at the sink, Lennox stayed at the back, filling out their lab sheets and passing them in with the rest. They hadn’t finished— hadn’t even come close to getting ice cream to slurp down—but Will tossed everything anyway. The afternoon announcements started and Will was still slowly washing their beakers. He looked tired, half-asleep standing up. Everyone else jostled past him.
To forget. That was what Will really needed right now: to forget his dad and the whispers and the exhaustion thrumming through him. To let Lennox lull him to sleep with a nice, relaxing blow job.
“I can help you forget if you want.”
Will inhaled sharply and leaned back against Lennox.
“No, Lennox,” Will said. He put his chemistry notebook in his backpack and moved away. “If the only help you can offer is an orgasm, I don’t want any part of it. Why is that so hard for you to get?”
“Oh, come on. Just imagine how much harder you’ll come when I blow you than when I jerked you off.”
Will tensed. Lennox inched in to kiss his neck and instead got an elbow to the gut.
“Fuck off!” Will slammed his backpack into Lennox’s face and knocked him to the floor.
“I don’t want to have sex with you! I don’t want you near me. My
dad
is—he could be—”
Will stormed out. Lennox watched his backpack disappear out of sight. Mrs. Mentore hurried over to him and helped him up.
“What did you—”
He was out the door and downstairs before she could finish. The halls were almost empty now, but he saw the familiar brown backpack disappear between a row of lockers and heard a door slam. Several lingering students jumped. Lennox rushed past them. A door led into a classroom he’d never been inside. He pushed the door open and entered.
Will sat inside the doorway, his knees tucked to his chest and tears coursing down his cheeks. Lennox eased the door closed with a soft whoosh. Following him here had been a dumb idea. Will wasn’t his sister. He couldn’t scoop him up and hug him and bandage his scraped knee or tell him to ignore whatever their dad was doing or what the kids at school called her. Will didn’t want to ignore his dad. He wanted him to live and be around to chase Lennox in the school parking lot.