Remember My Name (21 page)

I bristle, anger mixing with
alarm. Was he listening the whole time? Not that it matters anyway – I
know the damage is already done.

“Go to hell, Tyler.”
Jackson’s words are laced with barely concealed undertones of fear. My face
prickles with anxiety.

Tyler chuckles mirthlessly.
“Oh I won’t, but you probably will.” Turning back toward the house, he calls
over his shoulder as he swaggers away. “See you boys around.”

The moment he’s back in the
house, Jackson doubles over with his hands on his knees, taking sharp breaths.
Squatting next to him, I reach out a hand and rest it on his shoulder. Without
warning, his hand whips up with the speed of a striking viper and knocks my arm
away. “Fuck you,” he says through his teeth.

“Jackson,” I plead, regret
staining my words.

“Fuck you!” he shouts,
jumping to his feet. “This is why I didn’t want you to come here, and why I
never wanted to let you into my life. I knew it would mess up everything.”

I take a step toward him,
but he backs away from me, shaking his head. “Just leave me alone.” His voice
breaks as he runs away across the lawn and into the trees, the sound of his
footsteps over twigs and dead leaves quickly fading.

In case the wind and the
coolness in the air weren’t warning enough, a roll of not-so-distant thunder
grumbles around me. Frustration thrums in my chest, accompanying the indecision
of whether to follow him or not. Would it help or just make things worse?

Another question leaps into
my mind. Is that guy Tyler going to out Jackson to everyone here? Something
like that would barely be news back home, but middle-of-nowhere Minnesota is a
different story. It’s also not lost on me that since I look just like Jackson,
it might not be a good idea for me to stick around here much longer either.

Digging my phone out of my
pocket, I call Katie as I cross the driveway and come to a stop at the line of
trees through which Jackson disappeared.

“Where did you go?” she
demands, her voice mingling with the music.

“Sorry, I sort of got caught
up in something with Jackson.”

“Matt is here with me. Where
did you guys go?”

“Um, outside. Can you come
out here?”

A barely audible groan of
exasperation comes through the phone. “Fine, we’ll be right there.” The echoed
music from the other end disappears as she hangs up.

I didn’t mean for them both
to come, but maybe it’s for the best. I only have to wait a minute before the
front door opens. “What the hell, Ben,” Matt growls as he gets closer. “You
guys just disappeared on us.”

“And you left me alone on
the balcony for even longer,” Katie adds with an irritated stare.

Part of me knows I should be
concerned that the only friends I know here – if they can even be called
that – are both pissed at me, but just one person is on my mind right
now. “We should go home,” I say.

A shadow of fear flickers
over Matt’s face. “What happened?”

“We were talking stuff out,
and some guy pissing in the bushes heard at least part of it.”

Matt pales. “Oh shit.”

“What’s going on here?”
Katie examines the two of us.

“Nothing,” Matt and I say in
unison.

All around us, the light
patter of isolated raindrops whispers a warning, reiterated only a moment later
as lightning streaks through the sky, illuminating the puffy gray masses of
clouds overhead. Jerking my head toward the woods, I say, “You should go after
him. He’s got a few minutes on you, but Jackson doesn’t like to run so he
probably didn’t get far.” Matt waits a moment longer before he nods and sprints
off into the woods.

Katie crosses her arms. “You
want to do some explaining?”

About a hundred feet away,
the front door of the house opens and a few guys step out. One of them points
at us, and I think it’s that guy Tyler. “Yeah, but let’s just get out of here,
okay?”

Following my gaze, she
watches them for a moment. They’re not coming toward us, but they’re not going
back inside either. “Okay,” she says. “Come on.”

My breathing doesn’t come
easily again until we pull off the dirt road onto the highway as rain batters
against the windshield. Luckily we didn’t park in the driveway, so we didn’t
have any issues leaving. In the driver’s seat, Katie adjusts her hands on the
steering wheel. “You want to tell me what that was all about?”

I bite my lip, unsure how
much I should say. Tyler probably told everyone at that party, so there’s no
reason not to open up to Katie. I’d rather her hear from me than someone else.
“Jackson is…”

“Gay?” she finishes for me.

“You knew?”

She shrugs, slowing down as
we take a sloping corner in the road. “I always kind of figured, but I didn’t
know for sure. So he’s getting outed tonight, huh?”

The way she says it hits me
hard in the chest, sympathy for him welling up inside me. It’s shitty that it had
to happen this way, through no choice of his own. It’s not fair that he grew up
here where it’s despised while I grew up thousands of miles away where no one
cares. “I assume so,” I say, my voice heavy.

As we drive, the passing
minutes are defined only by the sound of pouring rain, until finally she says,
“You really love him, don’t you?”

“Why does everyone keep
saying that?” I turn to her, trying to figure out what she means, and why she
sounds surprised. “And of course I do. He’s my brother.”

“Right, right, but it’s
like…”

“Like what?” I prompt.

“Like it’s more than that.”

“Um…”

She laughs, waving her hand
dismissively. “I totally didn’t mean it like that. I meant, most siblings just
tolerate each other. Sometimes, they not only tolerate but actually like each
other. Yeah, there’s family love too, the kind that you know is there somewhere
but you never actually feel it unless the person is dying, but that’s not what
I mean either.”

“So what
are
you
saying?”

“The way you always think
about him, like just now how you’re so concerned. I don’t know, it’s like you
really… adore him. I’ve just never known anyone to feel that way about a
brother or sister.”

“I’d do anything for him.”
It’s the truth, and I know that without having to think about it.

“Jackson doesn’t seem to
feel the same way,” she points out. The wipers squawk across the windshield as
the rain lets up momentarily.

My expression hardens, but
she’s right. “He’s just forgotten. I wish he’d hurry up about remembering, but
he’s just so goddamn stubborn.” I still want him to be my protective Jacks, the
one who watches out for me, but what if that’s not what he wants? What if it’s
not what he needs? If anything, tonight I was looking out for
him
.

When Katie pulls up in front
of Dad’s house, I can feel her eyes on me, but I can’t bring myself to look.
Whatever she wants from me right now, I’m not in a position to give it. “Thanks
for inviting me,” I say, still staring out the window past the water running
down the glass. “And for driving.”

“Sure.” She says it with
just enough coolness that I know she’s mad. If she were any other girl, I’d
have to wait, but Katie doesn’t hesitate. “I get that you’re dealing with a lot
right now, but you can’t always push me away in favor of your brother.” She
bites her lip. “I mean, you can, but I’m not going to stick around while you
figure your shit out. He’s really important to you, and I understand that. But
you have to at least act like you want to spend time with me. Even when we’re
together, you’re always thinking about him.”

“Okay…” I say quietly.

“Is that all you’re going to
say?”

“I don’t know if I can give
you more than that right now.” It’s not what she wants to hear, but anything
else would be a lie. “See you on Monday?” I ask, stepping into the rain.

When she doesn’t respond, I
shut the door and walk toward the house. Not caring that I’m getting soaked, I
watch her drive away. I don’t like that I left Jackson in the woods, but there
wasn’t much of a choice. I try to convince myself that I did the right thing,
sending Matt after him. Whatever is going on between them, Matt has a better
chance of getting through to him right now than I do. I hate that it’s true,
but there isn’t anything I can do about it.

Inside the house, every
light is off except for a solitary bulb above the kitchen sink. Dad must have
already gone to bed. Tiptoeing up the stairs, I make a stop by the bathroom to
relieve myself before taking a long drink of water from the glass beside the
sink. Hands planted on the vanity, I stare into the mirror, wondering at the
miracle that there is another person out there who looks almost exactly like
me. Except for the freckles smattered on the tops of his cheeks, and a few
other tiny things. An inch or two, maybe five pounds, but that’s all that
separates us. Physically, at least.

A gnawing feeling at the
bottom of my stomach drags my attention away from the mirror. My stomach isn’t
upset from drinking, though. It’s because I left Jackson out there in a
thunderstorm. I briefly consider calling him to make sure he’s all right, but
he would never answer, not right now. Concern mingles with regret for having
left him, so instead of returning to my room, I go toward his.

I haven’t been in here for
more than a minute or two since the night I moved all my stuff out, but under
the light of his bedside lamp, nothing seems to have changed. On the floor
beside my feet is a pair of his colorful boxer briefs, half turned inside out.
These ones are gray and pink leopard print. My chest and throat grow tight as I
stare at the pair of briefs.

I won’t be able to sleep if
I’m worrying if he’s okay, wherever he is. And if I’m going to stay up waiting,
why not do it here? Ditching my jeans and shirt, I lie down on the messy bed,
tossing one of Jackson’s dirty t-shirts to the floor as I curl up into the
blankets. His scent surrounds me, affording me a morsel of comfort where I
would otherwise have none.

Acting on an impulse, my
fingers reach to turn off the lamp on the nightstand. Blackness immediately
descends into every corner, but as my eyes adjust, the weak light distilled
through the storm clouds coaxes definition and depth back into my surroundings.
Warm and cocooned in Jackson’s safe place, I wait. Eventually the apprehension
in my chest fades, but still I wait. Time plods onward, although I’m unsure if
it’s moving of its own accord or is pushed forward only by my steady breathing.

Jackson

I don’t know how long it’s
been since I ran. Away from Ben and the party and that asshole Tyler and the
incessant beat of the shitty music. Since the first raindrops began to fall.

I’m leaning against a tree,
which provides some shelter at least, but my t-shirt was completely soaked
after the first few minutes. Alone in the cold and wet darkness, my mind
wanders back to an even colder time eight years ago.

*     *     *    
*

It’s cold outside, and snowy
too. That’s why I’m waiting inside. Mom and Dad are loading up the car. They
have so many suitcases. Some are blue and some are black. The little one that
Mom is carrying is the same one that Benny and I shared when they took us
camping two years ago.

Benny is outside helping,
all bundled up in his snow pants and coat. He looks like a big, puffy gummy
bear. A gummy bear carrying a box. When he turns back to the house, I can see
his face framed by a furry hat, the kind that hangs down on the sides with
little pompoms at the end of the strings. He waves to me. I raise my hand and
move it from side to side.

Mom and Dad sat us down a
week ago, and they told us that we were going to be moving apart. They said we
would still see each other, but I don’t understand why Mom and Benny need to
leave. The house is big enough for all of us. Benny and I share a room, but
we’ve never complained. Not a single time. We fight sometimes, but that’s not
because we don’t like sharing the room.

All three of them come
inside, stomping their feet like they want the floor to collapse. Pulling down
his hood, Benny comes over to me. “I guess we’re leaving soon,” he says. I
stare into his eyes. They’re blue just like mine. I don’t want him to go. I
don’t want Mom to go either, but it’s losing Benny that really scares me. I
won’t actually lose him though, right?

They’ll come back. They have
to. It’ll be like when Mom went on a work trip for a month. It was a really
long time, but she came back, and then it was just a memory that she was gone
for so long. Everything went back to normal. That’s what will happen this time,
too. Benny and Mom will leave, but they will come back. I might be a little lonely,
but I can take care of myself. I’m a big boy. Mom is always telling me that, so
it must be true.

Mom and Dad are talking, but
they don’t hug or kiss when Mom zips up her coat and stands next to the door.
They’re watching us.

“Jacks,” Benny says quietly.
He’s still wearing all his winter clothes.

I want to tell him not to
go. Why does he want to go? I’m staying here, Dad is staying here, why can’t he
stay too? But I don’t tell him to stay. “What?” I say.

I don’t understand his
searching gaze, even though Benny is always so easy to read. Reaching into his
pocket, he pulls out a small plastic globe that fits in the palm of his hand.
It’s from those vending machines that spit out random prizes. The one in his
hand is bigger than normal though. It’s one from the expensive machine at the
grocery store. I know because we always talk about buying one, just to see how
good the prize inside is.

“I got this for you,” he
says, handing me the globe. The object is hidden by plastic wrap.

Mom calls from the door, “It’s
time to go, Ben.”

“Goodbye, Benny,” I say.

“Goodbye, Jacks,” he
whispers, his bottom lip quivering. Why does he say it like that? We’re going
to see each other again soon. Mom and Dad promised. Benny pulls me into a hug,
his puffy coat deflating as he squeezes me. A couple seconds pass before I hug
him back. What if this really is goodbye? It can’t be. We’re brothers, and
nothing will ever separate us, not really.

Mom gives me a hug, and Dad
gives Benny a hug. Dad and I watch as they push through the door and into the
cold and snow. Mom gets into the car, and the lights turn on. Benny stops
halfway to the car and looks back at me. We hold each other’s eyes for as long
as we dare. I want to scream for him not to go, just demand that everyone stop
this. I could run outside right now and stand in front of the car. But I don’t,
and Benny turns away and gets in the backseat.

Dad puts his hand on my
shoulder. The car pulls away, and I pull away from Dad. I run upstairs as fast
as I can, heading straight for the window. From my spot beside our bunk bed, I
watch the car drive into the distance. Tears slip down my face, but I don’t
move, not until long afterward.

Sitting down on the bed, I
pry open the bauble. A plastic baggie falls out. Inside is a shiny silver ring.
It’s not like the cheap ones from the twenty-five cent machines. No, this one
is from the dollar machine. It’s heavy and solid. It’s a lot smaller than Dad’s
ring that he doesn’t wear anymore, but it’s still too big for any of my
fingers. I hold it in my palm, feeling its weight. It’s not just a ring. It’s a
promise. A promise from Benny, that we’ll always be brothers. A promise that
he’ll come back to me.

*     *     *    
*

The scent of earth heavy in
the air, I bear down into a shiver and push my shoulders back, feeling the
rough bark along my spine. The heavy drum of rain hitting the leaves would
almost be calming if it weren’t for the thunder and flashes of lightning.

“Hey.” The voice in the
darkness sounds relieved.

I look toward the sound, just
a few feet away. “How did you find me?”

Matt sits with his back
likewise to the trunk, his shoulder pressing against mine. “It wasn’t easy,” he
says with a sigh. Despite the storm and the dark, he’s so close that I can make
out his features.

“Ben sent you after me,” I
say. I’m not sure if I would have preferred Ben to come himself or not. I might
have just run away from him again.

“He did. If you’d gone any
farther I would never have found you.”

The bark digs into my shirt
as I shrug. “Maybe I should have.”

“You want me to go?” His
tone is a challenge, but I ignore it.

A fat rain drop hits the
center of my forehead, the slippery liquid gliding down my nose to form another
droplet at the end. I wipe it away with the back of my wrist. More quietly this
time, Matt asks, “What happened?”

“Ben’s usual idiocy, nothing
new. He outed me in front of this guy I graduated with, Tyler.”

In the shoulder and arm
touching mine, I feel him tense up. “On purpose?”

“No, but that doesn’t make
it any better.”

“Care to elaborate?” he asks
as rain continues to pound down around us.

“Because he hasn’t done a
damn thing to show me otherwise,” I snap. Crossing my arms to preserve body
heat, I’m peripherally aware of my eyebrows pulling together.

When he speaks again, Matt’s
voice is pensive. “I’ll be honest, I think your brother is kind of a bitch, but
he cares a lot about you. Like, a
lot
.”

“What do you know about
that?” The venom in my words surprises me. I like Matt, but he’s getting close
to crossing a line.

“The way he acts around you,
it’s obvious.”

“He’s the one who doesn’t
want things to get better between us.”

“Then why do you push him
away?”

I force the words out. “I’m.
Not.”

“I think you should–”

“Back the fuck off,” I
interrupt. “He’s
my
brother.”

Matt doesn’t speak again.
Not as the rain lightens up, and not when the thunder becomes so distant I’m
not sure I’m even hearing it anymore.

“Let’s get out of here,” he
says at last, standing up. “I parked down the road from the house, so we can
leave without having to deal with anyone there.”

Lethargy tugs at my limbs as
I follow him away from the tree. Every part of me from my hair to my shoes is
sopping wet.

When we get to Matt’s truck,
he drives us a few miles before pulling to the side of whatever dirt road it is
that we’re on. He’s looking at me, and I’m looking at him. We’re both wet, and
he’s probably just as cold as I am. But where his expression contains optimism,
mine holds none. If only I could blame everything on Ben, make it his fault for
what happened tonight, it would make everything easier to understand. I could
quantify it then, at least. Ben did something, and now I hurt.

Except that wouldn’t be
true. It doesn’t really matter what a bunch of dumb pricks at my school think
about me. The real reason I hurt is because of regret and resentment, and those
are buried a lot deeper than what happened tonight.

“Jackson?” Matt is still
watching me, even though my own eyes have long since faded into fuzziness.

“What?”

“Come over here.” He
unbuckles his seatbelt and pats the area of the bench seat between us.

Seriously
?
What’s he going to do, give me a hug? I stare at him.

“I could drag you across the
seat,” he threatens playfully.

I’d like to see him try,
even though he does have a good twenty pounds on me. After a moment, I do as he
says and scoot over.

“All right,” I say, sitting
next to him. “Now are you going to tell me what the hell we’re doing out here
in the middle of nowhere?”

His answer is a bottle of
vodka, retrieved from under the seat. “I think we got shafted out of a number
of drinks tonight that were rightfully ours,” he says with a grin.

“Shafted, huh?” I raise an
eyebrow at him.

He shrugs as he takes a
drink from the bottle, making a face when he swallows.

“Well?”

Shaking his head, he coughs.
“It burns.”

Good enough for me. I take
the bottle from him before he can put the cap back on. Tipping it back, I let
the clear liquid flow over my tongue and down my throat, searing all the way.
Biting down to stifle a cough, I hand him the bottle.

Giving in to the renewed
buzz stretching its fingers through me, I steal the moment to look at Matt. At
his strong jawline and the covering of stubble that I’d love to run my lips
over. And the hair so glossy black that it passes in and out of focus against
the dark backdrop of the night. “What’s it like?” I ask.

“What’s what like?”

“Being so gorgeous all the
time.” As soon as I’ve said it, I realize how stupid I sound.

He laughs. “I think you’ve
probably had enough there, bucko.” I roll my eyes, even though I doubt he can
see it in the dark.

Despite his assertion that I
should be cut off, we pass the vodka back and forth several times before Matt
caps the bottle and stows it back under the seat with considerably less left
inside.

“So what now?” I ask, my
mouth reluctant to move properly.

His answer is his arms
encircling me. Wet fabric presses together as he draws me to him. It catches me
by surprise, because we’ve never had this sort of intimate contact. Before now,
it’s always been... well, sexual. This is different.

Shifting in my seat, I sink
into his embrace. “I can’t believe what happened tonight,” I eventually say,
the beginnings of tears forming under my eyes and infiltrating my voice.

“Everything is going to be
okay,” Matt whispers. “You’re going to be okay.” The distinction isn’t lost on
me that he said
you’re
and not
we’re
, as if I’m all on my own and
he just happens to be along for the ride. At least the alcohol blunts the
impact of his unintentional admission.

Dropping my face into his
shirt, I let go of what I’m holding in, my fingers curling to dig into his
back. At the beginning of this summer, I never imagined opening up to anyone
like this. The only person I was ever this close to was Benny. The name is a
like another shot of vodka in my thoughts.
Ben
, not Benny.

But it’s not him who’s here
with me. It’s my boyfriend. In that instant I realize how lucky I am to have
Matt. What kills me is that an insistent nagging inside wishes that the
shoulder I’m crying on was Ben’s.