Out of the Blackness (30 page)

I narrow my eyes and prepare to argue back when he interrupts, well and truly angry. As angry as I’ve ever seen him. If he were anyone else, I would be behind a locked door and in the back of the closet by now, but it’s Sam and while I know he’s angry
at me
, I also know he won’t take it out
on me
. “I don’t know why you’re being so selfish about this, Avery. This is Noah's big day. He specifically asked us to come. You’ll be surrounded by your friends and family. No one’s going to hurt you with me and the twins there, so just take a valium and get a move on already. We’re close to being late as it is!”

“He wants me to meet his mom!” I don’t mean to tell him. Heck, I’ve been counting on Sam’s protective nature to get us in and out of Noah's graduation ceremony with as little social interaction as possible in a space with a panic-inducing two thousand expected attendees. But then Noah dropped that bomb on me two days ago and it’s been the only thing I can think about. Noah’s mom. No, just…no.

“Oh,” he says and drops into the kitchen chair behind him.

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” I mimic sarcastically.

Sam looks up at me, all the fight gone from his face, replaced with a double dose of his usual worry for me. “That’s a big step. I didn’t realize you were there yet.”

“What do you mean ‘there’? I’m not ‘there.’ I don’t even know where ‘there’ is! We’re just friends, Sam. Why do I have to meet his mom if we’re just friends?” I’m practically panicking already and we haven’t even left the house yet. I glom on to the “just friends” label because, although I know we’re far more than that, it’s the only thing I have left keeping the panic at bay.

Sam fills a glass of water from the tap, grabs a pill out of the bottle in the cabinet by the stove and shoves them both at me. He looks as shell-shocked as I feel and I won’t deny taking some satisfaction in that. I hastily swallow the pill and will it to start working right the heck now. Instead, I start to hyperventilate. Sam grabs me and pushes me into the chair, shoving my head between my knees. “I—can’t—meet—his—
mom
!” I pant.

‘Of course you can,” he soothes. “Avery, not everyone’s mom is an abusive piece of sh—work. You’ve met Kira’s mom. She’s a wonderful woman. I’m sure Noah's is, too.”

“Haven’t—met—her—mom.”

“Really? Didn’t you meet them at Easter?”

“No!—Focus!”

“Right, sorry.”

I feel Sam’s hand rubbing my back comfortingly. Between that and the most uncomfortable position known to mankind, I finally get my breathing under control. I sit up slowly and stare at my brother. “What am I going to do? This is the only thing he’s ever asked of me and I can’t do it. I told him I would, but I can’t.”

Sam hands me the water and I drain the glass. That determined look he gets when he knows I’ll argue takes over his face and I want to scream. “You can do it,” he says calmly. “Noah and Kaleb and I will be right there with you. It’ll be okay. You were gonna have to meet her sometime anyway, Aves.”

“No I wouldn’t.”

He looks at me with a ‘stop the bull pucky’ expression. “Avery, everyone knows you can’t plan a gay wedding without the mother of the groom.”

“We’re just friends!”

“Uh huh.” He reaches out to touch the mark on my collarbone, a gift from Noah last night, something new again. “And I suppose this is from Noah's curling iron.”

At my glare, Sam dissolves into laughter.

***

The ceremony is interminable. Despite the valium coursing languidly through my bloodstream, I can scarcely sit still. I curse Noah for having a last name that starts with Y. What kind of name is Yates anyway?

I don’t realize I’ve asked the question aloud until Kaleb whispers in my ear, “It’s English. Settle down.”

It isn’t until Kaleb clamps a hand on one knee and Sam the other that I take control of my fidgetiness and put it to good use, chewing my fingernails, something I haven’t done since Mrs. Garcia, one of my first foster caregivers, laced them with Tabasco sauce.

“Jesus, Avery, calm down,” Kaleb says into my ear. “You’re driving me to drink and I don’t even have my flask!”

Kyle surreptitiously hands him his and I bark out a laugh.

Finally, Noah's name is called and the entire row jumps to our feet in applause and deafening whistles, courtesy the twins. I climb onto a chair in time to see Noah shake his head and laugh at something an older man handing out some book-like thing says. He’s grinning the entire time and I know I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. This is Noah's moment, our chance to celebrate his achievement. I’m so proud of him I could burst.

I glance at Sam and he ruffles my hair, beaming a smile back at me.

When the last name is called—three after Yates—we make our way out of the big arena thing where the football team plays and stand around on the grass waiting for Noah to arrive. It’s a maddening crush of people, some in cap and gown, but mostly supporters and family, like my own little group. Kyle, Kira and Sam, Kaleb and Josh, all huddle around me talking about the party Kaleb is throwing for Noah later tonight. Kaleb, always the party animal, plans to get Noah puking drunk.

“Not gonna happen, buddy,” Noah says with a laugh behind me.

I turn to look at him and the breath catches in my throat. My mountain of a man has never looked as handsome or happy as he does in his bright blue cap and gown. The deep, rich color shouldn’t bring out the sparkle in his hazel eyes, but it does. He looks at me and his smile widens, dimples flashing. He holds out his arms and I’m in them before I can tell myself no PDA.

His arms tighten around me and his lips are in my hair and I couldn’t possibly want for another thing in my life. Noah leans back, tilts my head up and gifts me with the sweetest kiss, his tongue tracing my teeth before coaxing my tongue to play. I hear a moan and a low growl and know we both feel the perfection of the moment. I break away for breath, ignoring the catcalls from our own peanut gallery. “I’m so glad you’re here, little one,” he whispers in my ear. I nip his in response, causing him to gasp. “Careful or somebody will think you like me,” he whispers with a chuckle and a squeeze of his arms.

I pat his chest, the gown silky under my fingertips. “Well, what they don’t know won’t hurt them.” I smile at him and accept another peck of a kiss.

I turn back around to face our group, surprised when Noah's arms slide around my waist from behind. I smile up at him and receive a wink back. My hands come up to rest on his and he twines our thumbs together. I lean against him and stare at the ground as the conversation flows around me. Up until now, Noah and I have kept our displays of affection for just us, behind closed doors or when no one else is around. Having all of them know that Noah and I are friends who kiss—and I know they all do because they gossip with each other like it’s their purpose in life—is much different than having just put on a show for them and anyone else who happened to be walking by. Seven months ago I would have run and hid before the possibility could arise. Heck, even last month I would have begged Noah not to kiss me in front of our friends. But now? If our peanut gallery comprised of three hulking men and a badass chick hadn’t been present, I would have freaked. But with these people, my family, I know I’m safe, protected and cared for. And if Noah wants to kiss me in front of them, I’ll kiss him back.

I glance up at Sam. He smile and mouths
you okay?
I nod and try to smile back at him.

A few minutes later, Kaleb seems to notice we’re all still rooted in the same spot. “What are we waiting for?” he asks with a self-conscious laugh.

I hear a warm, tinkling laugh answer back. I know instantly who it is. I launch myself from the incriminating circle of Noah's arms. “I do hope you’re waiting for me, Kaleb,” says the voice that goes with the laugh.

From my spot between Sam and Kyle, I see the woman as she steps into the group. Kaleb’s genuinely pleased, “Mom!” is immediately drowned out by choruses of welcome from Kyle, Kira and Noah, who looks at me with a cautious expression. I start to think maybe this is the K’s mom until she makes them all wait until she’s hugged Noah before enveloping them each in a hug in turn. No, this is the woman from the photograph in Noah's living room. She’s a bit older, but just as stylish, decked out in a figure-fitting dress of a contrasting color to Noah's gown. They’ll look lovely in a picture together, I think.

She greets the K’s warmly, engaging each in a short conversation before standing in front of Sam and me. Her smile is warm, but I cannot meet her eyes. I wonder if she knows what her son and I have been doing. I wonder how completely she disapproves if she does know. Sure it’s innocent, just kisses, but a woman like this must have plans and expectations for a son like Noah. And I have no doubt that him playing around with someone like me is far, far from those plans. “Who have we here, Noah?” she asks lightly. Her voice sounds too polite, too interested to be genuine and I pray silently for the earth to open up and swallow me whole.

Noah comes to stand to my left side and drops what I’m sure is meant to be a reassuring hand on my shoulder. I tense and he squeezes lightly. It’s his first misstep in “handling” me and I’m disappointed it comes when I most need him to make the right moves. “This is my very good friend Avery and his brother, Sam. Sam’s dating Kira, and I’ve told you all about Avery. Guys, this is my mother, Maggie Yates.” I really want to know what that means, that he’s told her all about me, to be able to see the truth in Noah's eyes, but I’m too terrified to move.

In what seems like slow motion, Noah's mother brings her hand out, waist high, for me to shake. Waist high because any higher and I would interpret it as a prelude to a slap, I wonder? Noah and I haven’t talked in depth about all that’s happened to me, but I know he knows more than the little I’ve told him. The Gossip Group couldn’t have failed to warn him against getting involved with me. And Noah most certainly would have warned his mother. I force my hand to hers and grip it firmly as briefly as possible. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Yates,” I somehow croak out.

“Oh, honey, please, call me Mom like the rest of the kids do,” she offers with another warm laugh.

“No thank you, ma’am,” I hear myself say.

For a second she looks stricken and I see her glance at Noah, then she looks back at me. “Of course, honey. I’m sorry. That was silly of me. Please call me Maggie.”

I nod, just to have the conversation over. I won’t call her anything and we both know it. I step slightly away from Noah and behind Sam as he shakes Mrs. Yates’s hand.

“So you’re the young man who’s swept our Kira off her feet. It’s lovely to finally meet you. Kira’s kept you to herself for far too long. It’s about time she lets her second mama get a look at you.” She steps forward and hugs Sam. “Whatever you’re doing, keep it up. I’ve never seen our girl so happy.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Yates. I’m doing my best and I promise to keep trying.” Sam’s never met a grown woman he couldn’t charm, even someone’s mother. For the first time, I envy him that easy confidence.

Mrs. Yates and Sam exchange a few more words I can’t make out over the blood pounding in my ears. I take a step away, but Noah's fingers lacing with mine halt me where I stand. I’ve never been more ashamed. Noah's mom is nothing like my own mother. She can’t be, not having raised a man like Noah. I know I’ve embarrassed him in front of the woman who gave him life and then cared enough to raise him into a wonderful man. I just can’t help my reaction.

Noah's fingers squeeze mine and I turn to see him staring down at me with a sad half smile. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, wanting nothing more than to run.

His other hand comes up to cup my cheek and caress my lip with his thumb. “You did fine,” he says softly. “I know that was huge for you. Thank you for meeting her. It’ll get easier the more you see her, but right now I’m so proud of you I could kiss you silly.”

“Wouldn’t take much,” Kaleb interjects lazily.

“I know where you live, Kaleb,” Noah warns with a smile, never breaking eye contact with me.

Kaleb laughs and clasps both of Noah's shoulders. “I know, bro. It’s where you’re gonna puke your guts out later. Now go take your boyfriend someplace quiet before you start making out in public again. Mama Yates doesn’t need to see that yet.”

“I’m not—”

“Shut up and get out of here before I change my mind about being your distraction.”

With a wicked grin, Noah gently tugs me away from the group toward the event parking area.

***

Several hours and another valium later, my mind is a kaleidoscope of faces and names, none laying claim to the other. Kaleb’s party is in full swing and Noah has been dragging me all over the place introducing me to anyone and everyone. The early ones were rather daunting until I realized no one cares who I am or what my name is. More recently, people have been lubricated enough by the freely-flowing alcohol that I know they won’t remember much in the morning anyway.

The entire group seems young, masculine, carefree, and happy to have graduated or to be out of school for the summer. It’s not my style of crowd, not by a long shot. But then, no crowd would be my style. I feel Sam’s eyes on me frequently throughout the night and he checks in often, making sure I’m not freaking out with both the sheer number of people and being Noah's tag-along. Surprisingly, I am doing okay. No doubt the valium gets a great deal of credit, but I know my work with Kendall has paid off here, too. Tonight, despite the increasing drunkenness of the crowd and their overwhelming maleness, I don’t worry I’ll end up someone’s punching bag. Noah's friends and the people Kaleb has invited into his home all know the score, as it were. They’re all either gay or female or very comfortable with gay people or some combination of the above. There’s not a Tommy Blevins or Carl-type in the bunch.

There are, however, a certain mother and younger brother I studiously avoid. I feel their eyes on me periodically, too. I can practically taste their curiosity, smell their disapproval, but this is Noah's night and none of us is going to ruin it. Or so I hope.