Текст книги "Triangle: The Complete Series"

Автор книги: Susann Julieva

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have to do this to Casey?

Casey looks at me, and it makes my heart ache. It means so much to him to be liked by someone as

popular as Rizzo, which leaves him with little choice in this awkward situation. Unless I just get up and

leave. Everybody thinks that I’m the killjoy of killjoys anyhow, and I couldn’t care less. But before I get

a chance, Casey makes up his mind and regains his sense of humor.

“Um.. okay. Sorry, James.”

Our audience laughs. I get nauseous. Then everything happens very quickly. Casey swallows and

moves closer to me on the armchair, bends down. His breath is warm on my face, then his lips brush

against mine uncertainly. Very softly, tender like a feather. We both shiver at the touch. Everything goes

quiet around us. And then he starts to really kiss me. I hold my breath, and carefully kiss him back. I’m

dimly aware of hearing cheering, but I shut it out. My head is spinning, and I lose my ability to think

coherently. My mind ends in a loop, wrapped around the sensation of how very soft his lips are. He

tastes a little like my beer, and indescribably good.

Suddenly he breaks the kiss and pulls back, and I realize that Rizzo must have told him to stop.

There’s applause, and shouting, and more cheering, and the girl sitting in front of us whispers to her

girlfriend, “Why don’t I ever get kissed like that?”

***

I catch him outside later, when the game is long over and the players have scattered. Stepping out of the

house, I shiver in the chilly night air and rub my bare arms. Rizzo is alone in the darkness, propped

against a wall, half-hidden in the shadow of a tall tree. I watch him for a moment as he stands there

unaware of me with his head leaned back in his neck, gazing at the stars. It’s quiet here, except for the

muffled noise of the party coming from a half-open window. Thundering bass guitar, the song distorted,

unrecognizable. Waves of laughter are tumbling outside through the crack. Rizzo turns his head my way

as I approach him, his eyes black in the darkness. The air is rich and fragrant with the smell of earth and

dried grass, the scent of summer nights.

“You owe me, Foley. I got you want you wanted, didn’t I?” The soft tone of his voice doesn’t quite

match the cheeky words. He clears his throat.

I look at him coldly for a moment, then I shake my head. “You know nothing about what I want,

Rizzo.”

His eyes are fathomless. Cool, black jade. “Maybe. But I’m pretty sure I know what you need.

Probably better than you do.”

We stare at each other, another silent power play. But something is off about this. Something in his

eyes that suddenly soften. Just like that. For once, he lets me win our little staring contest. And allows

me a brief glimpse behind his superficial facade. Just enough to make me wonder why.

Abruptly, he pushes himself away from the wall, looks at me for one last time and grins to himself.

Then he walks away, leaving me puzzled.

***

“James?” Casey calls me softly from the door. He has his shoulders pulled up and his arms crossed

in front of his chest, shivering. “Damn, I can’t find my jacket. You wanna go home?”

I walk over to him, my hands buried in my pockets. “Sure.”

We don’t look at each other as we step onto the pavement and slowly head towards the dorm.

Thankful for it being so dark. My skin tingles, just knowing that he is walking along beside me. Close,

and still completely out of reach. The streets are deserted. It smells like dawn. Silently we walk along,

in step with each other, like we always do. We don’t even notice it anymore, it just happens. Always

has. I know that we’ll never talk about the kiss, or even mention it. But still, it will always be there.

Chapter 5

Skin-Deep

CASEY: I had a dream last night that was so vivid that I still remembered most of it when I woke up. It

was my birthday and we were celebrating with family and friends. I got very strange presents; a stuffed

weasel and a box full of snakes. I was very uncomfortable with that. Then I was standing under the

mistletoe with James and he said he couldn’t kiss me now because he had an important meeting. I think

he was a professor, he was wearing glasses, and his dark hair was longer than he wears it. It made him

look oddly rebellious and stern at the same time. But I just grabbed him and kissed him, and it was the

most incredible feeling. But when I broke the kiss, I realized that I had been kissing Danny, and that

James had already left, and I didn’t care at all. It made me feel horrible and awkward when I woke up

and sat up in bed. Like I had betrayed James somehow. But what was even more unsettling was the

realization that I’d been dreaming about kissing men, and so loving it that I could still feel it dancing in

my stomach, hot and exciting.

***

“Can I ask you a personal question?” I glance at James who is scribbling in his notebook, his hand

moving swiftly across the paper. We’re sitting in the second to last row of the empty auditorium,

watching the dress rehearsal of a new German drama group initiated by the language students. James is

here to write a critique for the school paper, and I don’t understand a word they’re saying.

“Sure.” He finishes writing down his sentence before he looks back up to the stage and then at me.

I smile a little, suddenly insecure. It seems silly to ask this. “I know this is completely out of the blue

and totally random.”

“I’m sure I won’t die of shock.”

“Okay then, here goes: How did your mom react when you told her you were gay?

He arches an eyebrow and grins. “You’re right. That was pretty random.”

“You didn’t die though.”

“I’m a bastard to kill.”

I have to smile, and he shifts in his seat, getting serious. “I never had to tell her, actually. She just

knew. She says she could tell even when I was a little boy.”

“And she doesn’t mind?”

“Why would she? There’s nothing she can do about it anyway. She just wants me to be happy, that’s

what she says.”

I nod. “You were lucky. I mean, compared to other guys.”

James’ expression changes immediately and a painful frown appears on his handsome forehead, like

a shadow falling over his soul. It makes him seem very different from the person he was just a second

ago.

“Lucky, no.” He voice is cold when he speaks, very quietly. He stares down at his notebook. “I was

never lucky.”

I feel bad immediately, and sympathize more with him than I’m letting on, because James hates

sympathy. I know he doesn’t like to talk about his past, and very rarely does. His real father died in a car

crash before he was born. And then tragedy struck again when James was sixteen, when his stepfather

lost his life. All I know about Simon Foley is that he was a firefighter, and that he died in an accident. I

can only imagine how hard that must have been.

“Did Simon know, too?” I ask softly, carefully.

James stares at me for a long moment. His gray eyes get strangely blank of emotion, and a look so

jaded appears on his face that it spooks me. “Oh yes, he knew.”

I swallow, something in his voice giving me the creeps. I know that this is the end of this

conversation, and he won’t give away another word. I’m not sure I’d even want to know more, and that

makes me feel bad again. There is a kind of darkness inside of James that I’ve sensed from the

beginning of our friendship. It only ever flares up momentarily. But after all this time I still don’t know

how to deal with it.

I turn my head back towards the stage, trying my best to quickly come up with a safer topic. “So

how’s the show?”

A sarcastic little smile curls his lips, and he is back to his usual self in less than two seconds. “Oh,

definitely the one thing the world needs. On top of atomic weapons, global warming, and AIDS.”

“Ouch. That good, huh?”

“It makes me want to rinse my eyes and ears with acid.”

I laugh, and he glances at his watch. “Let’s get out of here.”

“You’re gonna miss the grand finale.”

“I’m sure I’ll get over it. Oh look, I already am.”

***

James and I are sitting opposite of each other at one of the large tables in the big library. It is early

evening. Flipping through pages and taking notes in peaceful silence, working on different projects for

different classes. It is always refreshingly cool in these long halls. The smell of dust, wood, and books is

in the air. I let my gaze wander through the room, and spot Leo’s flaming red hair as she steps out of the

dark line of shelves, her arm full of heavy books. She sees me and waves happily. I smile at her and

wave back. Then I look over at James, who has that rapt, highly concentrated look on his face that

always touches me. I never met anyone who was able to lose themselves with such enthusiasm in their

school work. I wonder if I look anything like that when I’m drawing.

There is beauty that’s just skin-deep, and there are people like James that you have to take the time

to really get to know before you can see their beauty. But once you see it, they shine. I’m strangely

moved all of a sudden, watching him. I remember how his lips felt on mine, and my heart starts to beat

madly. I can feel myself blush, and quickly stare down on my open book. I never considered the

possibility of being with a man. I never fancied men. I wonder what it feels like to James, to know with

absolute certainty that he is gay. I wonder if kissing a man feels exactly the same to James as kissing

Amber felt to me back in high school. And I wonder what it felt like to James to kiss me at that party.

But more than anything, I wonder what it is about Danny Rizzo that attracts me so much that I keep

having these dreams of making out with him. It turns me on, and that makes me feel strangely ashamed

of myself.

Chapter 6

Fancy

JAMES: The sun hangs low in the sky, the light is mild and golden, but the air is still warm. It is one of

those rare evenings when everything seems quiet and calm, and the world is perfect. Casey and I are

sitting outside of Starbucks, opposite of the movie theater, wasting time until the film starts. Not a lot of

people would be delighted to go see a foreign low-budget movie with subtitles. It is one of the things I

appreciate about him. He cares about quality, not quantity. I lean back in my chair, watching him.

Content just to exist and live this moment, with the smell of coffee in my nostrils from the steaming

cappuccino in my large paper cup. But Casey is restless today. He pokes around in his cup with a

Starbucks stick as if he were trying to stab the poor coffee grounds.

“Have you seen Danny? I thought he wanted to come.”

Danny. I hate how he always calls him by his first name. He never says Rizzo, like everyone else. I

hate how soft the name sounds, coming from his lips. I shrug, naturally not giving a damn. “You know

Rizzo. He says things he doesn’t mean all the time.”

Casey looks at me silently for a while. “What exactly is it that you don’t like about him, James? Tell

me.”

It is a simple question, so the answer should be easy enough. I think about it for a minute, and realize

that everything I could say would probably make me sound like the jealous drama queen from hell.

Which I like to believe I’m not, thank you. But someone has to at least try and wave a warning sign

before he heads any further down catastrophe lane. I might as well cut to the chase. “Listen, Casey. I

know you fancy him and all. But I just don’t think he’s good for you.”

Casey blinks slowly, like he can’t believe I actually just said that. He blushes noticeably, and how

cute is that. “I didn’t know you were aware of that,” he smiles, speaking softly, and long lashes hide his

eyes as he stares down at the table. “I think I didn’t want to believe it myself.”

“Does it throw you off that much, fancying guys?”

“No! God, no, don’t think that. I mean, you are… and I’d never…”

I smile. “It’s okay.”

“It’s just not like I generally fancy guys.”

“Ah. So you fancy selectively.”

He glances up briefly. “You’re making fun of me.”

“Why yes, I am.”

He laughs, his blush deepening, but his eyes are warm when he looks at me. “Thank you.”

“For making fun of you?”

“Nope. For understanding.”

Who says I do, I want to say, but I stop myself. I really don’t get why someone as smart as Casey

can honestly fall for such a jerk.

Casey looks pensively into the distance, and the sinking sun makes his skin shimmer with a golden

touch. Sigh.

“Don’t you sometimes wish you could be free from all those fears and uncertainties? That you could

just take this mess that is your life, and turn it into something special?”

I smile to myself. “You know, you’re really one of a kind.”

He turns towards me with a little frown. “And you’re not half the jaded cynic you’d like to be. I

know you wish for it too.”

“Maybe you’re right. But maybe you don’t know me quite as well as you think.”

“Really?” He smiles. “Is there something you wanna tell me?”

There’s too much, Casey. Far too much, and there aren’t nearly enough words in the world.

“Yeah,” I reply lightly, deliberately ending our little heart-to-heart. I glance at the clock over the

entrance of the movie theater. “Movie’s starting any minute. Let’s go inside.”

***

The movie is about three guys who steal a car and drive across country, meeting some really bizarre

people on the way. One of them is gay, and he falls in love with his best friend. I wish I’d known about

that particular bit before. The film takes an unexpected turn from comedy to drama when one of the

main characters dies. I don’t know why, but something about the way the two remaining guys talk to

each other, trying to deal, touches me. Something about their pain, their loss, the tragedy of life and

death, and how nothing good ever lasts forever. Casey seems to feel the same way about it, he sighs

softly beside me. I glance at him, and he looks at me with a strange expression on his face. I can’t read

it in the semi-darkness of the theater. He gives me a little pat on the arm, and turns back to the screen. I

do the same. Then he looks at me again, and suddenly he reaches over and puts his hand on mine.

I freeze. Completely. Can’t think. Can’t act. Feel the warmth of his palm, his fingers on my skin. I

think I’m in shock. Then my mind starts to race. God, what does this mean? Has he finally added up

two and two and realized that I’m like that guy on the screen? That I’m crazy about him? I bite my

lower lip; bite down hard, until I taste my own salty blood. Fighting the agony inside by inflicting

physical pain onto myself doesn’t help. Not this time. A minute passes slowly, his hand is still on mine.

There is no air in this goddamned theater, and I can’t breathe.

“I gotta take a leak.” Too abruptly, I pull my hand away and get up. Hurry through the rows, glad it’s

so empty, trip and almost fall over, feel stupid, and hurry outside. I lean against the wall, and exhale.

Superb, Foley. How extremely mature. But in spite of my attempts at sarcasm, I hurt inside. Far

more than I think is justified for once more making a fool of myself. I close my eyes, and the images

flare up.

Pain. Pain and blackness. An all too familiar combination that my body remembers, and

automatically replays. I get a flashback so vivid that it makes me feel nauseous. Small. Defenseless.

Simon’s voice, close to my ear. Hissing, spitting in my face.

“Not so clever now, are you? You faggot, you little piece of shit.”

My fists clench on their own account. I fight the memory down, push it to the back of my mind.

I’m not sure why, but somehow it is all Rizzo’s fault. Things weren’t so bad before he came along. I

had Casey to myself. I had my little mantra about how he was straight as a railroad track, and I was

completely out of the picture. And now this, his hand on mine. Why the hell did he do that? Suddenly

there’s this maybe that starts to grow in my head.

I think it is about time Rizzo and I cut the small talk and got down to business. I want to know what

he is up to. Now more than ever, I’ll be damned if I let that bastard have Casey. Not without one hell of

a fight.

Chapter 7

Strictly Business

JAMES: I’ve only been there twice, and always with Casey, but I know the way to Rizzo’s dorm room

like I’ve walked it a million times. It is always noisy on his floor: music plays loudly and people argue

through open doors from room to room. For some reason the corridor leading to his room seems to be

the messiest of the place. Fits perfectly. If you’re out to hunt a rat, you gotta follow the breadcrumbs.

Okay, here we are. Number 91, that’s seven times thirteen. I’m not even gonna comment on that. I’m

about to knock when the door opens all by itself. The slutty blonde I remember well from the Truth or

Dare party struts past, not even deigning to look at me. Slightly amused, I shake my head and look after

her, then to Rizzo who stands in the half-open door.

“You’d do anything on two legs, wouldn’t you?”

He grins and shrugs nonchalantly. “She’s pretty supple.”

Thank you. Too much information. Opening the door wide, Rizzo steps aside to let me in. He is

wearing a pair of jeans, and apart from that, a lot of nothing. His fly is still half-open. Oh, please. I feel

like I’ve wandered onto a porno set. The air in the room is heavy with the appalling stench of cold

cigarette smoke.

“Foley, what can I do for you?”

Sure enough, he lights a cigarette. He does it with a fluid, well-practiced gesture, exactly the way

people in movies do. If I tried to do that, it would without a doubt look remarkably stupid.

I look at him with a frown, not bothering to hide my annoyance. “You can mind your own business

and stop messing with Casey.”

He coughs softly in an attempt not to laugh, puffing out smoke through his nostrils like the damn

magic dragon in that song. “What are you, his mother?”

“Is he even your type?”

“Can’t say that I have one.”

“Big surprise. Does your dick do all the thinking, or is there a brain somewhere in there?”

He nods to my crotch. “Is there a dick somewhere in there, or does your brain have to compensate?”

I smile weakly. “Please. The only compensating I have to do is for the stunning lack of intelligence

around me.”

He seizes me up with a sly half-smile, cigarette in hand, looking cool, untouchable, and clearly

amused. My fists clench. I glare at him. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I can.”

Damn the bastard, I know he is right. And it makes me feel so powerless. There isn’t much in the

world that I hate more than this feeling. God, I want to punch him. Real hard. Hard enough to see some

blood.

He takes a step closer to me, his eyes on my face. “Why exactly are you here, Foley?”

“Do I mumble? Talk in a strange tongue? Stay away from Casey!”

“Make me.”

Another step closer, invading my personal space. I don’t move an inch, but I’m seething. I’m not

going to let him provoke me. I’m not going to lose my temper. I’m not going to let him see how furious

his nonchalance makes me, because that’s exactly what he wants. Oh, screw that.

I grab him and slam him against the wall, but he just laughs. Laughs as I pin him to it with my left

hand, right arm across his chest, close to his throat.

“I’ve really had enough of your shit.”

His laughter dies as I lean in closer and stare into his eyes with cold, barely controlled rage. “What

you gonna do now? Beat me up? Way to display your superior intelligence.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m gonna fuck your precious Casey, Foley. I’m gonna ride him hard until he comes screaming my

name. How you gonna stop me? How far are you willing to go?”

I’m this close to snapping completely, and when he realizes, something flickers in his dark orbs. His

breath is fast and hot on my face, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He lets his cigarette fall, and

puts it out without looking down. It’s there in his eyes, no mistake. Raw, undisguised lust. Bad boy, you

like it rough, don’t you? You’re such a slut. I can see it, but it still takes a moment to fully register that

he’s turned on by what I’m doing. Turned on by me. Taken aback, I let him go.

We stare into each other’s eyes. Rizzo is panting softly. Then, with a sudden movement, he takes a

step and grabs me, pulls me to him. Crushing his lips against mine, he buries his tongue in my mouth.

And I let him. Like an idiot, I’m overwhelmed by the sensation.

Something inside of me springs to life and I slam him back against the wall. He breaks the kiss for

long enough for a low moan to escape his mouth. He tastes bitter, like cold smoke. I don’t like it, but his

tongue slides across mine, and that’s all it takes to make me hard.

Rizzo, Rizzo for Christ’s sake, wants me. He slides his hand under my shirt. Warm fingers claw into

my back. Relentlessly. He’s in control, and still he moans something that sounds like my name. Sounds

like James, not Foley. Sounds damn needy. He opens my zipper, slides his hand in, and I let out a heated

gasp. Wanting him to touch me and at the same time wanting him to pull back. Rizzo’s eyes are black

with desire as he steers me towards the bed. I only struggle for a moment, then I allow myself to be

pushed onto it. The last few months have been a nightmare, when even tossing off could never really

release the tension, because Casey was still out of reach. I shut my eyes. I just lie there, and as he takes

me into his mouth, I don’t want this to happen, and yet it feels amazing. Don’t stop. He makes me

whimper like a small, wounded animal. Oh god, so incredibly good.

***

I’m dizzy afterwards, flushed, and wonderfully drowsy. I could fall asleep on the spot. Rizzo flops down

beside me, still panting a little. I notice the bulge in his jeans. My eyes wander over his chest, up to his

face. Fine pearls of sweat glisten above his perfectly curved mouth and on his forehead. I would sell my

grandmother’s soul to touch him right now. But I won’t. I never asked for a freaking blow-job. I owe

him zip and zero. Rizzo turns his head towards me and grins to himself.

“What?” I growl.

“You and your freaking pride, Foley.”

“Eat me. I hope your dick rots and falls off.”

“Mmm. I love it when you get all mushy, baby.” In spite of his sarcasm, Rizzo’s eyes are

surprisingly warm. Abruptly, he reaches over and cups my face with his hand, pulls me towards him. He

leans in and kisses me. I don’t return the kiss, but I let him go ahead anyway. I’m not sure why. His

hand slides down my cheek, mimicking something that could almost be called a caress. There is a

strange sparkle his eyes.

“You know you’ll be back for more. Next time you won’t get around it. I’m not the Salvation

Army.”

I chuckle softly. “Next time? And what do you dream of at night?”

“Things far beyond your imagination, Foley.”

I sit up, stretch, and swing my legs over the side of the bed. Rising slowly, I pull my trousers up. I

glance back at the bulge in his jeans, then at his face. “Have fun, you two.”

Rizzo just grins, knowingly. “You will be back. You know it.”

I resist the urge to look back at him as I walk to the door. I close it firmly behind me. Outside I sink

against the wall and exhale deeply. I knock my head softly against the cool stone, as if that could make

his words go away. Or the glorious image of him lying there on the bed, just dying to be touched by me.

Damn. Of course I’ll be back for more. And I hate myself for it already.

Chapter 8

Entrapment

CASEY: I guess I don’t really know what I want, only that I don’t want to wake up thirty years down

the line and be my dad. I mean, I love my dad. He’s the best. And it’s a kind of family tradition.

Grandpa was an English teacher, he is an English teacher, and he jokes that all men in our family are

fated to have that job. I’m not sure if I want to believe in fate. I was brought up to believe that dreams

are important. But if your dreams are too far out of reach, maybe there’s an alternative within your

grasp. And if there is, then you should go for that.

You would think that James, being the snarling cynic that he is, would completely agree. But he is

the only one who’s ever truly understood what my art means to me. How it owns my soul. How that is

me.

So when I was home this spring break, I nervously waited for the right moment for days. And then I

finally confessed to Mom that I wanted to illustrate children’s books rather than being a teacher. She

said: “That’s great, sweetie, but that’s not a job, that’s a hobby. You want a job that can provide for a

family, just keep that in mind.”

In that moment, I really wanted to be James and tell her to go to hell.

***

“You should come,” Danny says, and smiles at me. “You can bring Foley.”

It’s late afternoon on Tuesday and we’re sitting in the sun on the steps to his dorm. They’re still

warm, but the shadow of the building is growing longer at our backs. Friends of his are having a

barbecue on Thursday. I’ve seen them around, but haven’t met any of them. They’re all seniors.

“Sure, I’ll ask if he wants to come.”

I’m pretty sure the answer will include mentions of razorblades rather being swallowed, but I’ll try

anyway. The fact that James is a vegetarian doesn’t make him any more likely to attend. He has always

been wary of anything that Danny suggests, but now he seems determined to even avoid breathing the

same air. I don’t know what brought that about. I’ve tried to carefully find out, but he got that dark look

on his face, and changed the subject.

“I bet you twenty that he won’t.”

“You’ll win that bet, I fear.”

I’m intrigued by how warm Danny’s eyes can get when he smiles. It’s like the light is enamored with

him. I feel special when he looks at me. I find myself daydreaming about being closer. He is such a laidback

person, but his strong confidence is intimidating. I feel self-conscious around him, but I jump at

any chance to be with him. I want him to like me, and can never say if he does.

Back in high school I was completely in love with Amber. At least I thought I was. When we started

dating, I was happy as can be. She felt like home to me. But she never captivated me in such a way. I

feel bad about it, but it’s true. But look at me now. My hands are sweating and I never know where to

put them, where to look, what to do with myself. Everything’s intense. I feel alive.

Danny looks at me thoughtfully for such a long moment that I get embarrassed. I stare down at my

feet. One of my shoelaces is untied, and I’m glad for the chance to avoid his gaze. I bend down and tie

it.

“Shame. I guess then you’re not coming either.”

As I straighten, I notice a strange gleam in his eyes. “Why would you think that?”

“Forget it.”

“No, tell me.”

“Sure you wanna know?”

“Yeah,” I answer cautiously. “Should I brace myself?”

“I can hold your hand if you want,” he grins.

Oh dear. I would honestly love that, and in my mind I can see James wincing at the romantic fool

this probably makes me.

Danny tilts his head, looking at me intently. “They call you the Twins, did you know that? You’re

Twin and he’s Evil Twin.”

I’m baffled, and taken aback. But I try to laugh about it, and not let it show. I’ve never liked being

sensitive. It makes a lot of things pretty hard. “Who’s calling us that?”

“Oh, you know. People.”

I look away. I feel hurt, more on James’ behalf than on my own. I didn’t have the slightest clue

people were talking behind our backs. “You mean your friends do.”

He shrugs unconcernedly. “Hey, who cares? They’re jerks.”

“They’re your friends.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “They’re just people I hang out with, Casey.”

“Is that how you see them?” I’m kind of shocked. I’d never talk about my friends like that, even if

they were jerks. On second thought, if they were, I wouldn’t be friends with them to begin with. “Is that

how you see friendship?”

He smiles a little, but there is a fleeting sad, if not resigned look on his face. It is the first glimpse of

vulnerability I’ve seen in him, and I feel cruel for having said that. But at the same time I’m fascinated.

My heart is beating madly. Yes. This is the real you, Danny Rizzo. Right there. That is what I need to,

what I absolutely have to get a chance to paint. But it’s gone in a flash, and he’s teasing me again.

“I’m offended. Twin.”

“Shut up.”

I can’t help but laugh with him. He gets up and gives me a smile that makes me yearn for more. “See

you on Thursday, Casey.”

“I’ll be there.” I stay where I am and watch him saunter away, and I wonder how he’s such a

mystery. It takes me a moment to realize that in some roundabout way, he’s completely tricked me into

going to that barbecue. Because he is right. I wouldn’t have gone otherwise, not without James. I feel a

sudden sting as I grasp the truth in those people calling us the Twins. And I catch myself pondering if I

should even ask James if he wants to come.

Chapter 9

Stigmatized

JAMES: There’s a spot up the green hill on the edge of Shriner’s Park where I like to go when I need to

think. Firstly, because you can overlook the whole campus from there. The voyeur in me loves that.

Secondly, because of the trees. Old, gnarled willows with their branches hanging low like strands of

hair. The perfect hiding place.

Today I got an awful lot to think about. But the truth is, it all boils down to one question that’s on

endless repeat in my mind: What the hell have I done? Part of me still can’t believe what happened with

Rizzo. I mean, I was physically present. I know damn well what went down in his room. When I close

my eyes I can still feel him. Everywhere. And I know that Casey would never forgive me if he ever

found out.

I exhale slowly, and let myself sink back onto the soft grass, stretching arms and legs out at my

sides. Like a dead man. The dead man I would sometimes like to be. A ceiling of branches sways softly

in the breeze above me. I close my eyes and just listen to the rustling of the leaves, sounding like the

surf, far away. It reminds me of that afternoon we spent by the sea. Of the heat, and of Rizzo’s hands on

me. Stop. Stop thinking about it, damn it. Bad, bad, bad.

I sense a presence before I hear someone approaching on the grass, long before a shadow falls over

me. Pretending not to notice, I keep my eyes shut, hiding a smile. I know who it is. I know because my