Authors: Anyta Sunday
limestone
“So this is what your room looks like,” Jace says, taking in the single bed, the desk littered with books, and the thirty toolboxes stacked against the back wall. I use the toolboxes to compartmentalize my rocks and keep everything in order. Each is labeled according to the month and year it represents, running all the way back to when I was two and picked up my first limestone.
Jace stands in the middle of the room, and I wonder if he’s imagining me studying or playing computer games at my desk, trying and failing miserably to do push-ups on the round red rug, coming in wet from the shower with only a towel wrapped around my waist, jerking off to the thought of him under the bedspread—
You wish!
I turn on music to fill the silence but I keep it low so we can talk.
The springs in my mattress squeak as Jace sits on my bed. His reflection stares back at me from the photo I have of Mum, Dad, Annie and me that’s on my desk.
“I have a confession,” Jace says and I startle, standing up from my chair. It swivels in a full circle behind me before bumping against the desk.
“Confession?”
Jace bites his bottom lip and pushes off from the bed. He walks around the room, touching the dresser and studying the stones I have on display. He looks at me through the large square mirror above the dresser. “I wasn’t asleep when you left my tent that night.”
I pause. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” he says, turning around and leaning against the drawers, “I shut my eyes when you dragged your sleeping bag out. After a few minutes, I snuck out and . . . well, I overheard you and Annie.”
“You were spying on me?”
He folds his arms and looks ashamed. “I was curious what you were up to.”
“Curious?” I have no thoughts of my own, and I scramble to accept what he’s telling me.
“I wondered what you were doing. I thought I might scare you for a laugh. Pounce on you or something.”
“Pounce?”
Jace winces and chuckles. “Trust you to focus on
that
poor choice of word.”
I don’t know what I’m saying but I start speaking. “So there wouldn’t have been any pouncing?”
Pushing off my dresser, Jace struts toward me. He shrugs as if he’s answering his own question. “If you want there to be pouncing, there can be, okay? Plenty of it. In fact, let’s start now.”
Jace touches my chest and pushes me onto the bed. I barely process what’s happening when he leaps on me, pinning me to the mattress. His greenstone slips out from the collar of his shirt and hangs at my throat. “So you’re gay,” he says, and this time I’m aware of what he’s saying. I detect an undercurrent of anger. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Because it’s you. You’re the one I’m attracted to. You’re the one that makes my heart go berserk.
When I don’t answer, he rolls off me. I instantly miss his weight. Miss his focused stare boring into me for answers.
“As you can see, I’m okay with it. Did you think I wouldn’t be?”
“No,” I say, and it comes out croaked. What I really need to know is if I’m projecting feelings that aren’t like
that
.
But of course they’re not. I’ve seen his porn stash after all. He’s told me he’s interested in Susan. I can’t even believe the warm lie that he’s faking all that because he’s afraid to come out—because why would he be? He’s okay with me being gay, and he knows his parents are okay with it too. Nothing’s holding him back.
Because he doesn’t harbor any secret feelings toward you.
I still want to ask. I want to know.
Don’t destroy the illusion that he cares for you above and beyond a friend. You like imagining that one day he’ll realize he wants you and ravage you like the hero in a corny romance—
“You can tell me anything. Just want you to know that.”
We exchange looks. “I have nothing else to tell. That’s it. My big secret, exposed. If you want to put some distance between us, I’ll understand.”
Jace sits up. “What the hell?”
“I just mean—”
“I know what you mean. You think I’m worried you’re going to jump me?” He laughs. “You’ve had plenty of opportunity already. Why would things change now? Besides, the whole stepbrother thing.”
I laugh. “Yeah. Stepbrothers.” And because I can’t help it, I add, “Not technically, though. Even if we were stepbrothers, it’s not like we’re related.”
Jace’s gaze flashes to mine, and his breath hitches. “I guess. Not really related. Not by blood.” For a second, I think he’s going to lean in and say something else, but he frowns and makes an abrupt change of topic. “I asked Susan to the dance. She said as long as I don’t barf all over her, she’d love to go with me.”
“Romantic.” This comes out stonily.
Jace laughs. “You going this year, brother?”
Brother? What the hell is that? “I’m gay. Who would I go with?”
He shrugs. “You should go anyway. Stand up for who you are, show them you don’t care what anyone thinks.”
“Would you do that?” I ask. “If you were in my shoes?”
He’s quiet for a long time. “Okay, maybe it’s a stupid idea. I just . . . But you’re right. It’s harder when it’s yourself.”
The front door shuts, and we scramble out of bed. “Mum’s home.”
“Should we hide?” Jace whispers. “Duck out the window?”
I smirk and open the door to the hall. “Mum?”
She appears a few seconds later, a bit flushed. Paul’s lingering at her bedroom door, pulling nervously at his orange tie that matches his hair. He waves, accidentally flicking his tie into his face. He flattens it and silently laughs at himself.
“What are you doing home so early?”
“Kind of got outed at school. Needed to recuperate.”
“Oh, dear. Should I make some tea?”
“Nah, I’m fine.” For the most part. I glance from her to Paul. “Jace and I are going to get an ice cream and sit in the park.”
“Are you sure—?”
“Yep.” Her mouth twitches into a smile. She brushes past me and stands in front of him.
“This is Jace,” I tell her, and before she starts wondering exactly why he’s in my room, I add, “He drove me home.”
“My God, you look just like Lila,” she says.
“He’s taller,” I say as Jace says, “I’m taller.”
We grin.
“You have her hair, eyes, nose, mouth, everything except how broad you are. That looks like . . .” She cocks her head and hums. “Well,” she continues eventually. “You’re one handsome guy.”
“Mum!”
“Not as gorgeous as you, dear,” she says. I groan.
“Just stop,” I say. “Go back to the hunk in the hall.”
It’s her turn to redden. Now we’re even.
When she’s gone, Jace laughs. “Your Mum’s all right,” he says, and beckons me out of my room. “Now, I believe you said something about ice cream?”
alabaster
Ernie and Bert call me over the next few days. If I described what they wanted as a stone, it’d be alabaster, a translucent stone for forgiveness.
On the third day, I pick up the three-way call. I’m sitting on my single bed staring at my toolboxes. “What?”
“Dude, we totally screwed up.”
“Bert-time,” Ernie says.
“Shut up,” Bert says. “You’re not making this any better!”
“Fine. We screwed up big time. Better, Bert?”
“I don’t know, ask Cooper.”
“We’re sorry. We were just surprised that you dig dudes. We don’t care.”
Bert says, “No, we don’t care. Anyone who does care will see why I play defense.”
“You gonna tackle them, Bert?” Ernie asks. “That imagery is so gay—hey, maybe you’ll like it, Coop?”
“If this is your way of apologizing,” I say. “You suck at it.”
“We don’t have much practice,” Bert says. Ernie snorts.
“Yeah, because our big mouths have
never
gotten us into trouble before.”
“We’re sorry!” they say in unison.
“Come to the dance with us,” Ernie says in a mischievous tone.
“Why?” I pick at the bed covers. Do I want to go? I thought I didn’t but I am curious. It has nothing to do with knowing Jace will be there with Susan. Absolutely not. “People will whisper.”
“Yeah, but they’ll whisper anyway. At least you can control what they whisper about. Have the upper hand. Show them you don’t care—and neither do your two incredibly hot, straight friends.”
A pause.
Ernie huffs. “That was your cue to confirm our hotness. You know, from a guy’s perspective.”
Bert laughs. “Come on. He’s way out of our league. We have ugly mugs.”
“Speak for yourself—”
“Guys!” I shake my head. “I’ll come but you have to suck up a little more before I’ll forgive you.”
“Did he say we have to suck him to be forgiven, Bert?”
“Ernie!” He’s laughing, and I may be grinning as well.
kyanite
Jace is in a bad mood the next time I go to Dad’s for the week. When I try to grab his arm and ask him what the matter is, he shoves me away.
I stumble onto the couch. Annie hisses in the background, flying out of her chair and abandoning her sewing machine.
“What the hell?” I push to my feet. “I just asked if you’re okay! But obviously”—I shove his chest—“you aren’t.”
He grabs my wrists and yanks them to my side. His icy-blue eyes look like kyanite—one of the few blue minerals that occur naturally in this country.
“She’s had enough bad luck! Sharing the love of her life for five years, losing the baby, getting a new family that barely tolerates her.” He glares at Annie then stabs me with his gaze. “She doesn’t deserve more!”
Annie steps between us, pushing against our chests until Jace swears under his breath and backs off. He leaves the gaming room with a slam of the door.
Annie frowns. “What was that about?”
I don’t know, but I want to. I go after him but Annie grabs my sleeve and holds me back. “Don’t. He needs time to cool off. He’ll come to you when he’s ready.”
I snatch up my homework and take it to my room, pausing for a moment outside his door to hear the pounding bass of music. I pull out and rub the rare goodletite stone I found at the beach today. When I calm down, I place the goodletite on a shelf and settle in to do homework.
After not-concentrating on my biology for an hour, I take my
I’m a Rock Whisperer
cup and head off to make a cup of tea.
Annie stops me in the hall, twirling to display a purple skirt. “I sewed it myself. For the dance. What do you think?”
I nod. “Poufy.”
She laughs. “You’re not
that
type of gay, are you?”
“What type?”
“The—never mind.” She glances at my cup. “Tea? Make me one too?”
“Make it yourself. I’m not doing the loose green tea, temperature thingy you like.”
“If you boil the water it releases too many tannins and tastes bitter.”
“Wow,” I say, grinning. “You sound just like Mum right now.”
She attempts a scowl but it morphs into a grin. “Fine, I’ll make my own.”
“In your poufy skirt?”
“Shut up. I’ll see what Dad says. Probably has more to say anyway.”
He doesn’t. But that’s because he’s not listening to us. He’s sitting at the end of the dining table staring at the vase of roses. His deep frown shadows underneath his eyes. He rests his elbows on the table and rubs his temples.
“Dad?” I ask, forgetting about the tea. I set my empty cup on the table and take the chair adjacent to him. Annie does the same on the opposite side.
“What’s the matter?” she asks.
Dad blinks and clasps his hands together. “I’m glad you guys are here.”
My heart beats faster. Jace is yelling at me again, shoving at my chest. “What happened to Lila?” I ask. “Where is she?”
“She’s gone to bed. Wants some quiet time.” He shifts in his chair. “She wants me to talk to you.” His voice cracks and he clears his throat. “Lila had a mammogram.”
“Breast cancer?” Annie’s voice is weak.
Dad slides his clasped hands close to him. “Yes. The doctors found some abnormalities. She has a four-centimeter tumor, and the cancer has spread to three lymph nodes near the armpit.”
She’s had enough bad luck!
Oh, Jace. I’m so sorry.
And Lila. Shit. “Will she be okay?”
“Yes,” he says stubbornly. “She’s going to have chemotherapy to shrink the tumor and surgery to get rid of it. And we’ll all support her.”
He looks at Annie the longest. Tears run down her cheeks. She leaps from the chair and throws herself at Dad. “I’m so sorry. So sorry. For everything. I love you. I’m sorry Lila’s sick. I’ll help. She’ll get better.”
I hug him too.
I think of Lila sick in her bedroom.
I think of Jace curled up in anger and resentment on his bed.
“I love you,” I whisper. “I’m going to be there to support you.”
Dad drags my cup across the table. “Going to make some tea, were you?”
“Yeah,” Annie and I say together.
“Good. I could use some too.” He passes the cup to Annie. “You make it, love. You know how it’s done.”
I scowl.
They sniff out a laugh.