But his words were reminiscent of his responses for class, and made me reflect on his comments about pain now.
“It’s painful for me too,” I said, “but you’ll tell me when it’s too painful, right?”
His gaze drifted, and I knew it was there, just as it was for me. How could it not be?
“I’m sorry, Kyle. I wasn’t trying to spoil the afternoon.”
“No. I like that you asked. It’s one thing with my friends and Tex…even not telling the therapist. It’s okay dealing with one secret, but now I have this other, and secrets are hard, aren’t they?”
After our talk over winter break, I managed to get him to see a virtual therapist about his issues with his father, and once he’d become comfortable, he’d been willing to head into Atlanta a few days each month to talk with someone who wouldn’t be associated with his old church. I could tell it was helping.
Yet even with that, there were some things he had to keep to himself, and I was the reason for that.
“But that’s not the hardest part for me, James. It’s so much worse that it keeps getting stronger and stronger, and I’m terrified that it will always be like this. Or that it will have to stop at some point. That’s what hurts.”
“Why would it have to stop?”
“Come on. I’m young, not dumb. There’s only one way we can keep this going past all this, and I’ve been good at pretending because it’s been a whirlwind and everything, but I know you have too much to lose that, even if we did want something more, we’d always have to be quiet about it.”
It was something I’d thought about, and it was clear this wasn’t his first time thinking about it either.
“I guess in getting carried away and working to keep our secrets, we’ve been so focused on seizing the day that we didn’t really consider the future as much as we should have.”
“I’m not trying to pressure you into anything,” he said. “You mentioned pain, and I was telling you where it was. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”
He was so uncomfortable, on edge, as though fearful I was about to spoil everything in a moment.
“Forget I said it,” he added.
“No.”
He turned to me, wide-eyed. I could see the terror in his expression. I hadn’t realized until that moment just how scared he was. How scared I was.
“After the school year ends, just through the summer, and then we do whatever the hell we please.”
“James, you’re out of your mind. They’ll talk.”
“I don’t give a shit about talk. They can talk all they want, but they won’t know. You’re nineteen in August, and once you’re not my student anymore, no one can touch us. Unless…that’s not what you want.”
He set his sandwich down behind him and slid toward me, his gaze piercing mine, his jaw tense. “I’ve been the talk of this town for plenty of years. About time I give them something worth talking about.”
He kissed me, without shame or inhibitions, like he might have kissed me in my bedroom, something neither of us usually allowed outside. But we shared the unguarded moment. Reveled in it.
A sound caught our attention, startling us, and we turned together, only to notice a rabbit a few yards away, near a shrub that shook, I assumed from when the rabbit had moved past it.
We laughed together, our faces red, our expressions knowing. It reminded us of the cruel reality we lived in.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“It’s the rabbit’s fault.” He smiled. “And it was perfect. Six months more, and this town will know what trouble really looks like. I don’t give a shit about any of it as long as I have you.”
“Okay, maybe more Heathcliff and Cathy than I was thinking,” I joked.
“Damn right. Kiss me, Cathy.”
I obeyed.
Again, I expected it to be quick, but he didn’t let me go easily, and as we continued, I allowed myself to relax into it. To cherish the experience the way we both deserved to be able to. The way one day we would, without fear of consequences greater than chatter around Wyachet.
38
Kyle
James and I made the best of the time we shared, and as fate carried us to the end of the school year, with each passing day, I knew we had so much more to look forward to.
I stood at the floor-length mirror, assessing my rented tux.