Tommy’d been stuck in the back of the minivan for the two and a half agonizing hours it took to get from his suburban Metro Detroit home to Caseville, Michigan, during which he’d been forced to endure what seemed like his fifty-sixth viewing of Moana. He’d have listened to music, but his phone was an outdated model with a battery that drained way too fast. And besides, Hannah liked to keep up a constant commentary on her movie. Plus, his parents expected him to keep her occupied.
Mary Engle, otherwise known to them as Mare, was half-hidden by her garden when they finally, finally pulled up to their lakeside rental. She gave a half wave but otherwise didn’t move. After seven years renting one of her cottages to them, she knew them well enough to let them do their own thing when they arrived.
Tommy clambered out of the car after Hanna and Ethan; he tripped over, then grabbed their little backpacks. Mary always let them park next to the house on the side lawn; sand and crabgrass shifted under his feet. Hannah and Ethan were running around the backyard and laughing.
“Tommy, Tommy, Tommy can we go down, will you take us down, please?”
“Please, please,” Ethan tugged on Tommy’s shorts.
“You guys need swimsuits,” Tommy said. Past the raised deck and down a little hill, the sand was a pristine, sugar-cookie tan and the water glinted sapphire blue in the sun. Hannah and Chase hopped around, cheering madly. Tommy laughed. “Mom,” he pitched his voice over the wash of water; the waves were small but the sound carried up the hill, “can I take them?”
“What?” She picked her way over to him. He relieved her of the heavy tote she was carrying over her shoulder.
“The kids want to go down. Do you want me to help unpack or take them?”
“Oh, my god, take them please.” The wind tossed her hair; sun caught her new highlights and brightened her blue eyes. “Get them out of our hair while we unpack. The bathing suit bag is on the porch.”
“Sweet.” Tommy paused. “Wait. Is mine in there?”
“Tommy, honey, you’re eighteen. You’re in charge of your own packing.”
Damn. He definitely packed suits, but they were buried in his suitcase.
“All right, turkeys.” He put a hand on each kid’s head. “Let’s get ready, and I’ll take you down. First one ready for sunscreen wins.”
“Wins what?” Ethan looked up; suspicion was clear on his little features. Tommy might have a history of incentivizing with no actual prize in mind.
“Uh…” Tommy looked at his mom. “An extra cookie.”
The look she shot him was perhaps two steps below murderous.
“It’s vacation, Mom,” Tommy said. “Sugar them up all day and maybe they’ll crash at night.”
“Thanks for the sound parenting advice.” She rolled her eyes. Hannah and Ethan took off, slamming the screen door behind them.
“Ethan, man,” Tommy climbed the stairs behind them, “change in the bathroom, no one needs to see your naked butt out here.” He rooted in the bag for Ethan’s bathing suit. “You can’t just go streaking here, people are gonna be in the cottage next door at some point.”
Ethan stuck his tongue out but caught the bathing suit easily.
Jerry, his stepfather, struggled up the stairs with Tommy’s suitcase. “What on earth did you pack? We’re only here for a week.”
Tommy took the suitcase without comment. He was a problem packer, always packing alternate clothes in case he wasn’t in the mood for what he chose, as well as alternate-alternate clothes in case the weather report was completely wrong. Which, come on. Michigan. The weather report was never right.
He always stayed in the smallest solo room. It was closest to the water, which meant he could hear the waves at night and watch the sunset from his bed while reading. Contradicting all advice he’d given his brother, Tommy slipped out of his clothes and into his suit without bothering to lower the blinds. The cottage next door was quiet. Its occupants must not have arrived yet. Some cottages rented to the same families year after year. Mare and her husband owned a cluster of them in varying sizes along their stretch of beachfront, but the cottage next door only had two rooms, one of which was a loft with no walls. It didn’t appeal to most families.
Tommy emerged to find his mother sunscreening Ethan for him.
“I’ve already done Hannah,” his mom said. “Get yours done and you’re good to go.”
Tommy resisted, barely, rolling his eyes. He was too old to be mothered. A month from now he’d be at college, in charge of himself. At eighteen, Tommy was considerably older than his siblings, Hannah and Ethan, who were nine and six. Tommy had helped take care of them from the beginning, had often felt a complicated twist of resentment and fondness for them. They were Jerry’s kids from his previous marriage, but they’d been four and one when Jerry married Tommy’s mom. Soon, he’d be gone. He wasn’t sure who would miss whom more, the kids or himself.
The night he’d gotten his acceptance letter to Michigan State, he’d gone to bed buzzing with excitement. It took him less than half an hour to realize he had no idea how to picture himself in a new life, without his siblings, his parents, his home. These were signposts for who he was, how he defined himself: the brother, the helpful son, the good kid who always made the right choices because he was so scared of the consequences that came with making mistakes. Everyone said college was a time for making mistakes. Tommy wanted to be the kid who could let go, have slightly reckless fun, but he couldn’t really picture a version of himself that was okay with not knowing what might come next.
Vibrating with impatience, the kids ran onto the grass, while he slathered himself up, then dashed down the stairs. “Not the water,” he called. “I need to check for rip currents!” He could have saved his breath; they were both already digging through Mary’s tub of beach toys. The wind wasn’t up, and he didn’t think there’d been a storm lately, but the sandbar could be deceptive. Last year they’d let Hannah go out to it, and it turned out it wasn’t where it seemed to be, where it had been for the last two days.
Tommy winced and hopped over a shallow wave. The cold water was unexpected on such a warm day, and he had to resist the urge to cover his nuts. On the sandbar, the water was knee-deep and warm. The sky was cerulean all around, unbroken by clouds. To the southwest, the shoreline curved until it was almost directly west, where they watched the sun set every night.
The kids were busily digging at the shoreline, filling buckets with the wet, heavy sand. Tommy waded toward them, letting his body acclimate to the water until it had gone from fucking freezing to merely bracing. He took it all in. Tommy loved it here and he loved having his family here. August was his favorite time of year. Along the south slope of the hill leading to the cottage, the landscape was natural. Mare’s cottage sat along the stretch of public beach. Queen Anne’s lace, ditch lilies, and chicory bloomed among the tall grasses.
Tommy was pulled from his reverie by the slam of a car door and a spill of laughter carrying over the water. Two men came around to let themselves into the tiny cottage next to his family’s. It was impossible to judge the men’s ages from his location, but they seemed to be on the younger side. After them, a girl with a backpack and suitcase came around the corner. Her short shorts and a tank top were a clear giveaway: probably college-age. Boisterous laughter carried on the wind. For a moment, jealousy washed through Tommy. He was on the verge of leaving home, but, rather than spending time with his friends, he was stuck with his family for a whole week. His best friend Sean was hosting a bonfire and cookout as a final goodbye this weekend, and Tommy was missing it. He’d been reduced to babysitter for a week.
Being a teenager sucked sometimes. A lot. Mostly.
“Tommy, Tommy, can I come in?” Hannah was at the water’s edge.
“Sure,” he said, laughing as she pranced into the water. A wave hit her square in the face, and she shrieked with laughter. Tommy waded toward her, scooped her up, and dropped her back in.
“Again! Do it again!”
He horsed around in the water with her until they were both exhausted. He towed her back in when her little lips took on a blue tinge. The sun began its slide toward the horizon, and a little wind picked up.
By the time he had Hannah burritoed in a towel, their mom was calling them. Ethan was covered head to toe in sand despite not having gone in the water at all. Tommy worked on brushing and shaking it off. There was nothing more annoying than sand tracked into the cottage.
“I’ll take it from here,” Jerry said. “Come on, Ethan, let’s play on the porch until Hannah’s out of the shower.”
Tommy wrapped up in an extra towel his mother had put out and parked himself on the porch as well. Mare’s cottage had a big, screened-in porch where they sat at night playing games, where they set up a towel rack to dry towels and bathing suits, and where they often threw picnic lunches.
Maybe it wasn’t a bonfire with his friends, but Tommy loved the familiarity of vacation rituals and, although he’d never admit it, the focused time with his family and his siblings. Tonight they’d eat dinner out here and watch the sunset paint the sky purple and pink and gild the black water; they’d eat too many Skittles and M&M’s and play cards until they ached with laughter.
Maybe being stuck with his family wasn’t such a bad thing, after all.
Chapter Two
By noon the next day, it seemed like the Worst Day Ever. Tommy’d rarely seen Hannah be such a brat. He had no idea what the cause was—lack of sleep maybe—but he didn’t much care by the fourth time he had to break up a fight between her and Ethan. He also really cared that his mother was complacently reading a book and, you know, not mothering.
Tommy was smart enough not to say that out loud but he thought it pretty hard in her direction when he went back to his lounge chair.
“Tommy, honey, take a breath,” Elise said, turning a page. “You have to tune them out. Let them work it out. So long is no one is hurt or in danger, a little screeching won’t kill anyone.”
“Mom.” Tommy took a deep breath and then another, and they were both utterly useless in calming him. “I can’t tune them out. They’re at volume nine.”
“Oh, I’d only give them a seven out of ten,” she said. “You look warm, honey. Why don’t you go for a walk? The air is cooler by the edge of the water.”
“You sure?”
“Tommy, I didn’t bring you on vacation to babysit your siblings the whole time.” Her sunglasses covered about half her face, but he’d bet money that she was rolling her eyes at him.
“Okay.” Tommy ran up to the cottage to grab his phone and earbuds. He pulled on a shirt, slipped his phone into a pocket, and headed toward the public park farther down the eastern shoreline.
Tommy waded, enjoying the suck and pull of sand as each small wave rushed over his feet. The sand was clear of debris and soft and there no clumps of seaweed to avoid. Often, after a storm came through, they’d find the waterline strewn with seaweed and washes of little shells swathed over large portions of beach. Hannah and Ethan would have a field day picking buckets of them, which his mom would secretly throw away before they could beg to take them all home to make a “collection.”
Twenty One Pilots pulsed through his earbuds loudly enough to drown out the cry of the gulls, the chatter of the beachgoers he walked past, and even the ever-present susurration of the water. Right at the horizon, he could see the steady progress of a lake freighter. He was watching it when he got hit square in the chest by a football.
“Fuck.” Tommy ripped out his ear buds. Ow, that hurt.
“Oh, man, I am so sorry.” It was one of the guys he’d seen last night from the cottage next door. And he was cute: all dark hair and easy smile, long-limbed but stockier than Tommy. “I tried to call out, but—”
“Yeah, my music was pretty loud,” Tommy said. He tried to drape his earbuds around his neck casually, hoping the movement might invite further interaction. He fumbled with them and ended up draping the tangled mess over his right shoulder. The guy watched with amused interest and didn’t say anything. Tommy looked down and noted that the football was at his feet. Oh.
“Oh, uh, sorry about that,” he said. His earphones fell into the sand when he bent over to pick up the football.
“No worries.” The guy was kind enough not to laugh, but amusement was evident in the crinkled corners of his eyes. He held out a hand. “I’m Chase.”
Tommy had begun to extend the football when he realized Chase was actually going for a handshake. This time he did close his eyes in embarrassment.
“I’m Tommy,” he said. Chase’s palm was smooth and warm. His messy, dark hair was caught in the breeze, which was picking up off the water. “I’m sorry.” He managed to actually hold out the football.
“Stop apologizing, really. It’s okay. I’m the one who assaulted you with sporting goods,” Chase said. One of his friends called out from farther down the beach; with enviable grace and coordination he tossed the ball to him. Tommy expected him to walk away, but he didn’t. He turned back toward him and pushed up his sunglasses. His eyes were a strange hazel, almost olive green. Maybe they’d change in the light. Tommy thought, wildly, of getting to observe them in different lights and then squashed the notion. Belatedly he realized it was his turn to speak.
“So…”
“You here for the week?” Chase asked casually, as if Tommy weren’t the worst at conversation with a stranger, ever.
“Yeah, I come with my family every year.”
“Those your siblings, last night?”
“Oh, yeah.” Tommy was surprised he’d been noticed. “Hannah and Ethan.”
“That’s cool. I always wanted siblings.”
“Ooh, an only child,” Tommy said. “I’ve always wanted to know how the other half lives.”
Chase’s smile was bright and quick. He probably never had to worry about first impressions, not with a face like that. “Wanna come meet my cousins? We’re neighbors for a week, right?”
Tommy bit down on the inside of his check, trying not to betray an uncool level of excitement. “Sure, that would be awesome.”
Chase gestured with his shoulder, and Tommy followed. He tried it ignore the heat in his belly whenever Chase’s shoulder brushed his. He walked the water’s edge, splashing and wishing he had sunglasses too. It was so much easier to check someone out from behind a screen that shielded the play of thoughts people always told him were much too easy to read.
Chase’s cousin threw the ball. Chase caught it easily, jostling Tommy in the process. His laughter was easy and infectious.
“Hey, guys, this is Tommy. I found him wandering the shore alone,” Chase said.
“Hey.” The other guy extended a sandy hand. “I’m Jake.” He pointed up toward the grass, where a girl was laying out towels to dry. “That’s my sister, Cheryl.”
Tommy waved and told himself this was easy. That it could be easy. That it should be easy. He’d have to master this soon enough, meeting new people at college. Tommy grew up with the same friends his entire life. He’d gone to the same tiny Catholic school with the same students since he was a little kid. His awkwardness in new situations was rarely a problem when everyone already knew him. And okay, it sucked sometimes (a lot), being a prepackaged version of Tommy who fit into a neat box made of other people’s perceptions and expectations. That’s how high school was, right? Everyone fit into their own slot, and the lives they made after high school were the ones that mattered. People became who they wanted to be, if it all went okay.
Tommy was messy and uncoordinated, unsure of each movement, worrying each word like a stone in his mouth. And yeah, he often despaired over his inability to enter new situations without being horrendously awkward, sure it would never go away. The sun kissed Chase’s skin, which was shining and slick with sweat and sunscreen. Tommy knew it wasn’t fair to assume that a guy who looked like that, who moved with ease and confidence, never felt as awkward and wrong as he did, but he was going to do it anyway.
“I have to warn you, I have the literally worst hand-eye coordination.” Tommy forced himself to smile, to banter, knowing that if he had long enough to warm up, the smile would be genuine. He just had to fake being himself until…he could be himself.
“Well, that always spices up a game of catch,” Chase said. He lobbed the ball at Tommy without warning, and Tommy caught it more out of instinct than skill. He passed it back to Jake before playfully kicking some sand at Chase.
An hour later they were all sweat-soaked and sandy and, when Cheryl came with hot dogs, unanimously starving. “Mom sent me down with sustenance.”
“Oh.” That was his cue. “I’ll let you guys eat in peace.”
“No, man, stay.” Jake, focused on the potato chip bag he was trying to open, shot him a smile.
“We have plenty,” Cheryl said. “Really.”
The warmth of welcome washed through him. “Thanks.”
“Ok, wait. No ketchup? Mustard?” Chase frowned.
“My hands were full. Take your complaint somewhere else. Or up to the grill station Mom has going; they have stuff.” Chase ran up to their cottage to get condiments and drinks. Tommy accepted a paper plate and hesitated. You’ve been invited. He took a hot dog gingerly.
“Relish too!” Tommy met Chase’s eyes as he bounded down the stairs. Heat flashed through him, between them. Not that he’d ever had someone to flirt with, but Tommy was relatively sure that there was something sparking, something flirtier than normal in that look.
“You’re here with family? Chase said you all are cousins.”
“Mmhmm.” Cheryl nodded toward the deck to their left. It was larger than the one that came with Tommy’s cottage. “It’s our parents’ twentieth wedding anniversary, so a bunch of family thought they’d have a celebratory week.”
“You’d think they might want a solo vacation,” Tommy said. Then, “Oh, shit, was that rude?”
“Not at all,” Cheryl said, drowning her hot dog in ketchup.
“Our parents are close friends,” Chase said. “So they invited us. And then Aunt Katie found out and…it grew.”
“It’s nice though. Like a big family reunion. Plus, we have each other and can do our own thing.” Jake crammed half a hot dog into his mouth. “They even let us share our own cottage, away from the adults and the little kids too. It’s the tiny one, right behind yours?”
“Wow, that’s awesome.” Tommy took a handful of chips, mindful of talking with his mouth full. “We’ve always just come the five of us.”
“So basically, it’s just your family?” Cheryl asked.
“Yup. I get a lot of reading done. And you know, my siblings can be fun. Not that it’s the same as having, you know,” he paused, wondering how to word it without sounding like he was inviting himself to hang out with them, “people my age around. I mean. Like family, and—”
“Well, then this is your lucky year,” Chase bumped shoulders with him. “Because this year, you have us.”
Tommy flushed and looked down; ketchup from his hotdog had plopped onto his lap. He felt better then, less as if he’d been invited out of politeness. It made laughing over Cheryl’s burnt hot dogs easier. It made observing their banter, even jumping in a time or two, easier.
“You like Coke?” Chase asked after a bit, smoothing over the silence. Tommy’s smile was permission enough for Chase to crack one open one-handed.
By the time Tommy checked his phone, he was surprised to see hours had passed. The agitation and irritation inspired by his siblings was long forgotten; even more, he was relieved at having passed a small test, at finding that he could challenge himself to come out of his shell.
“Crap, I gotta go,” he said, not bothering to hide his regret. “Got family stuff tonight.”
“That’s cool,” Jake said. “We’ll see you later.”
“You’re here for the week though, right?” Chase asked. Tommy bit his lip and turned his face away to hide a wide smile.
“Yes.”
“Sweet.” Chase stood up and brushed sand from his shorts. Tommy fell in step with him automatically, realizing belatedly that Chase was walking him home. It was cute, considering that their cottages were a stone’s throw from each other. “You able to hang out again?”
“Definitely,” Tommy said. Alone, he felt better letting himself smile. Chase’s directness was refreshing; Tommy didn’t have to guess at his interest now, because the darted looks from Tommy’s eyes to his lips and the slow heat of his smile said it all.
“Have a good night then,” Chase turned away with a final glance over his shoulder. Tommy could see Cheryl stretching out on a chaise lounge in the sand. Her laughter was a tease directed toward Chase, who shook his head. His words were caught by the wind. Tommy forced himself to go in, lest he get caught staring, but he was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.
Chapter Three
On Monday, everything and nothing in Tommy’s life changed.
He played with Hannah and Ethan. He helped get them get lunch and slayed both his mom and dad during their evening round of Push. He spent so much time out on the beach that he went to bed that night with an uncharacteristic sunburn.
At the same time, though, there was Chase. They didn’t spend the whole day with each other, exactly. But they sure spent a lot of it together. And when they weren’t together, Tommy couldn’t help but track Chase’s movements along the beach. Jerry had had an outright laugh at him at one point; Tommy had been watching Chase as he took his turn with a paddleboard his aunt had rented.
“You have it so bad, buddy,” Jerry had said.
“Shut up,” Tommy’d said, shoulders up by his ears, but he’d laughed too. Chase fell off the board but surfaced laughing; water was slick and streaming down his chest. Tommy did have it bad. That didn’t stop him from watching all Chase’s abysmal attempts at paddle boarding or staring as he made his way out of the water and up to the cottages for lunch.
Tommy ate his own lunch with Ethan and Hannah, then playing the world’s most repetitive game of I Spy, before escaping to the beach without even asking his mom to watch the kids. They were her kids, after all. Right? Ugh. Tommy squashed guilt and reminded himself it was his vacation too. He was allowed to drowse on the beach with a book.
“Hey, wanna go for a walk?” Chase caught Tommy off guard; he had fallen asleep only about twenty pages into his book. Tommy’s family must have come down at some point because Jerry was playing catch with Hannah and Ethan while his mother relaxed on a lounge chair next to him.
“Yeah!” Tommy sat up in a flurry of sand. “I mean,” he cleared his throat. “Yes, that would be cool.”
“Have fun, kids,” Elise said, unabashedly amused. Tommy’s withering glare was completely lost behind his sunglasses, and, while Chase didn’t appear to be laughing at him, he was clearly definitely amused. Tommy brushed sand from his arms and legs with as much dignity as he could muster.
“Hold on a sec,” Tommy said, leaving Chase to make small talk with his mom—please, god, let her be subtle—while he ran up to the cottage to grab a tank top and two small bottles of water. He was back seconds later, out of breath and juggling the bottles and the tank top, which he had somehow not thought to put on upstairs. Chase was telling his mom a story about his parents; he had her laughing, and Tommy spared a second to be thankful she wasn’t doing the talking. “Here. Uh—” He tried to hand Chase a bottle of water but almost dropped both.
“I can take them,” Chase said, nodding at the tank top, “so you can get that on.”
Tommy looked down, overcome by an unbidden but undeniably compelling image of Chase telling him to take it off, or taking it off himself.
“Have fun, kiddo,” Tommy’s mom said, poking him in the thigh with her toes. “Dinner’s at five thirty, okay?”
“Yeah, sure,” Tommy said. He didn’t want to assume Chase wanted to spend the next four hours with him; he aimed for dismissive or casual but probably missed the mark. Tommy had very little chill on a good day, much less in the vicinity of a cute boy shining with sunscreen and sweat and beaming welcoming smiles at him. His attempt at chill was nothing more than breathless and higher pitched than usual. “So,” he turned to Chase, trying harder to modulate his voice. “Which way?”
Chase gestured toward the west. He high-fived Ethan, who was digging himself a “pool” at the edge of the water.
The long stretch of beach curving ahead of them was empty. They walked at the waterline so the water rushed over their feet, swallowing their footprints.
“Do you all live near each other?”
“No. We all live in Michigan. But my Aunt Sharon and Uncle Nick live up in Cheboygan. My other aunt lives in Gaylord.”
“A northern family, I see. And you guys?”
“Grand Rapids,” Chase said.
“You really made a trek to get here—all of you, I mean.”
“You live closer, I assume?”
“We live in the metro Detroit area. Maybe like a two-and-a-half hour drive.”
Chase’s hand brushed against Tommy’s as they walked. He resisted the urge to lean closer for more accidental touches.
“So, not exactly close by either,” Chase said, looking at Tommy over the top of his sunglasses. Tommy shrugged. The sun lit all of the gold hues in Chase’s eyes, giving the impression that his hazel eyes were illuminated from within.
“True. I guess I was thinking about how far from me all of you live.” They stepped over an outcrop of stones and dunes, then waded to the beach beyond it. Up ahead was another public beach. “I’ve never been farther from home than this.”
“Really?” Chase slowed, pushed up his sunglasses, and rested them in his wind-tousled his hair. It was less styled than it had been yesterday and hung over his forehead. Beautifully thick, it looked soft to the touch.
Tommy shrugged. “My parents are always running around, juggling the kids and activities and working.”
“Well, what about you?”
“I’m not about to take a scenic tour of the state on my own,” Tommy said. He bumped into Chase, daring and playful.
“No, I meant, aren’t they busy with you too? You made it sound like…” Chase turned to keep walking. Tommy followed, waiting for the rest of his sentence. He tried to curb his impatience when it seemed that none was forthcoming.
“Like what?” he prompted finally.
“Like you’re on the outside.” Chase shrugged. “Never mind, I shouldn’t have—that sounded judgmental, and it’s not my business.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” Tommy touched Chase’s arm, fingers fleeting, just the barest memory of Chase’s warm skin to tuck away. “You’re not wrong.” He paused to clear his throat. “I mean, it’s not quite like that. I have a lot of activities, too, and I can drive. So I usually do my own thing and help them out when they need me. So, I’m not, like, neglected or anything.” He rolled his eyes. Ethan and Hannah were a handful, and he did sometimes resent how much his parents depended on him. He wasn’t about to spill his resentments at a stranger’s feet, even if that stranger was crazy hot and interested.
“What do you do?”
“Oh, god, I was doing so much.” Tommy ticked items off on his fingers. “Theater, school newspaper, yearbook committee, National Honor Society, which of course includes service hours.”
“Holy crap, when do you sleep? Why would you do that to yourself?”
Tommy laughed, taking the teasing as it was meant. “To get into a good college. That’s what my parents kept telling me. To pad my applications and all that.”
“Did you?” Chase stooped to pick up a shell. The beach here was littered with tiny shells, broken and ground down by waves. This one was larger, pink in the center, and unbroken.
“I got into a few. It didn’t matter in the end.” Tommy kicked at the water. Foam from the waves coated his foot.
“Why not?”
“I always wanted to go to Michigan State. I applied even though my parents didn’t really want me to. Told them it was my safety school.”
“Why didn’t they want you to go there?” They reached the near end of the public beach.
Uncomfortable with the turn in conversation, Tommy gestured toward the tree line. “Have you been to the playground with your other cousins? The younger ones, I mean.”
Chase paused, as though he was trying to read Tommy’s face, then shrugged, accepting the change in subject. “No, I didn’t know there was one.”
“Come on, I’ll show you. It’s a nice distraction when the little kids get stir crazy.”
They picked their way through the sharp grass and over a small incline. The playground had a wooden roundabout that Tommy knew would never be allowed on newer playgrounds. Both Hannah and Ethan had fallen off of it when the momentum from spinning got too strong. Still, they always begged him to spin it for them. When their parents weren’t around, he did. A few scraped knees never killed anyone.
The playground was empty. The tall trees created a hushed canopy.
“Come on,” Chase caught his hand briefly, tugging him toward the swings. He let go too soon, so much sooner than Tommy would want. Reading into the touch wouldn’t help the burgeoning hardcore crush. It was a friendly touch and nothing more. He followed gamely. Chase settled on a swing and nodded at the one next to him. Tommy sat, watching as Chase built momentum. Tommy listened to the quiet of the trees, searched for the sound of water, and enjoyed the pocket of calm. Chase slowed his swinging after a few minutes.
“What about you?” Tommy asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re graduating from high school, too, right?”
“Oh! Yeah. I’m going to Tulane.”
“Wow.” Tommy let that sink in. “God, that’s so far away,”
“Yeah,” Chase said. He rested his head against the swing chain. “It’ll be weird, being so far from home, but I’m really excited.”
I’m terrified. Tommy swallowed the words. How embarrassing, to be so nervous about moving one hour from his family when this boy was traveling almost an entire country away.
“Sounds like you’re an adventure seeker.” Tommy said. The smile he got, wide and warm, was worth hiding his anxieties and insecurities. Chase’s sunglasses were pushed up; his hair was a mess above them, and his were eyes bright and beautifully framed by dark lashes. Chase did seem interested in him, and no one would be interested in a boy so cowardly he was scared to leave a home he sometimes got very tired of.
Louisiana, though, that was something. Chase was something, something else. And this moment, fingertips still tingling from Chase’s touch, what was that? Tommy met Chase’s eyes and matched his smile. It took some work and wasn’t as genuine. But then again, Chase didn’t know him well enough to read him. This—this smile and the brief touch of Chase’s fingers curling around his, the assessing and interested gaze—was a blip. Two lives colliding for the briefest moment. Tommy had never had this: a boy interested in him, a boy who wasn’t hiding it, an opportunity.
And in the end, it would amount to nothing. It would come and go, and who would Tommy be then?
Chase stopped swinging. Tommy wasn’t sure what his face was doing, but it was enough to give Chase pause. Chase closed his hand around Tommy’s forearm. His touch was electrifying, too much despite being almost nothing at all. Suspended in the moment, Tommy had to catch his breath.
On the beach, a child wailed. The suddenness of the cry broke their moment.
“We should get back,” Tommy said. He stood and tried so, so hard not to catalogue the ways the simplest touch had awakened his whole body. In fact, he had to push the thought away.
“Okay.” Chase stood, allowing Tommy to redirect them yet again.
Tommy lingered in bed on Tuesday as long as he dared. Gray clouds scudded in low, but his weather app assured him it would be warm and mostly sunny in the afternoon. He thumbed over to his message app. Texts exchanged with Chase ran late into the night.
Chase: Epic Volleyball tourney planned today. Be on our team?
Tommy: Are you looking to epically lose? ;)
Chase: Looking for an epic good time
Tommy had given himself a good five minutes to settle the flutters in his stomach that one set off.
Tommy: Can’t say no to that.
With breakfast came the rude smack of reality.
“This is a family vacation, Thomas,” his mother said, plopping pancakes onto his plate. Tommy thumbed up syrup that was splattered on the tablecloth.
“I know! God, I know. I’m here, aren’t I?” His shoulders, taut and pulled up, began to ache.
“Sleeping in a cottage doesn’t imply active participation in a family vacation. Actually doing stuff does.”
Across from him Jerry’s eyes meet his, sympathetic but silent. Traitor.
“You’ve got to be kidding! Haven’t I been watching the kids, taking them swimming, helping with lunches and sunscreen and playing freaking ice cream palace with buckets of sand for hours? Mom, I’m eighteen.”
Elise set down a bowl of fresh fruit hard enough that he worried for its continued structural integrity.
“And just what does that mean?” Jeez, his mom could freeze water when she was pissed.
“That it’s not always fun! That there are kids my age up here, finally, and it’s been nice to spend a little time with them.” Tommy threw his hands up. He tried to leave the table, but the heavy wooden chair caught on a deck plank, effectively ruining his snit. “Look, Mom.” He took a deep breath and tried to settle his thumping heart. “I do love coming here. And I love playing with Hanna and Ethan. Trust me, I want this family time, because soon–” His voice broke, which caught her attention. Jerry put his fork down and cradled his coffee while watching with careful eyes.
“Tommy, we’re still always going to do these family things,” he said. “You’ll always be welcome.”
“What?” His mom turned to Jerry. “You say that like there would be a reason for him not to feel welcome.”
“You mean, like I might choose not to come,” Tommy clarified, holding Jerry’s gaze. Jerry nods.
“Well, that’s— That’s just— Of course— ” She stopped and gathered herself. Unasked, she spooned fruit onto his plate, directly into the syrup pooled to the side of his pancake. Gross. Still, he ate it, just to create space between their words and too many feelings. He wanted to reassure her, tell her of course he’d keep coming with them. Mostly, he was confident he wouldn’t want to miss this. But everything—everything—was about to change, and he had no idea what that really meant.
“Mom.” He couldn’t take the silence anymore. “C’mon.” He didn’t clarify what he wanted, because he didn’t know. But he really hated her being mad at him. He really, really, didn’t feel like shopping in tiny tourist traps and eating ice cream and going to the vintage motorhome expo Jerry was so excited to see.
“You’ll have a family day tomorrow.” Elise compromised, voice steel and eyes tight. “We’re going to the arboretum.”
“Of course.” An easy promise and a simple compromise. He loved the arboretum. It was by far his favorite place in Caseville.
“And you’ll make smart choices.” The look on her face brokered no give, no other option than agreement—which he would give anyway.
“Mom, I always make smart choices.” The levity fell flat. “No, really. I’ve worked hard to be responsible and make good choices all my life, even when there was a lot of pressure this last year not to.” Tommy didn’t want to be that kid who let too loose in college, who had been so straight-laced he had no idea how to manage newfound freedom. Every choice he’d made—drinks turned down, parties he attended as the designated driver, gatherings he avoided because there would be drugs there—had been conscious and deliberate. Maybe that was partly because he was scared, but also because he was responsible. “I’ve always made those choices for me though. I don’t make them because you force me. I’d really like it if you gave me more credit than this.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She squeezed his hand. All of the unsaid, potential words hanging in the air, heavy as rain-laden clouds, went unspoken. Tommy forced himself to finish breakfast, even if it sat like rocks in his stomach.
Every year, his family suited up and went for a hike at the Huron County Nature Center & Wilderness Arboretum. Despite it being summer, long sleeves, pants, even hooded sweaters were necessary. The arboretum was beautiful, in spirit and place. But also swarmed with mosquitos.
The evening before, a storm unlike they’d never experienced in all the years they’d been coming had torn through, leaving them powerless. In the late afternoon, the clouds had gathered, dark and rich gray against waters that were impossibly teal. He’d instagrammed a picture. Ten minutes later the storm hit the house so hard it shook with winds so strong he’d struggled to close the inner door from the porch. Out back, between the cottage and Mare’s garage, Jerry and Greg, Mare’s partner, struggled to pull the flaming grill into the garage. Greg’s hat was sucked up into the wind, and some of Mare’s roof tiles sheered away.
As quickly as it had come, it was gone. Within an hour, the sun shone weakly, and they were trying to determine how long they would be without power. The storm had cut through the thumb of Michigan’s mitten, leaving thousands without power. Brisk wind averaging twenty miles per hour had made it impossible to go near the water in the storm’s wake. Jerry had tried, gamely, to make a sheltered fort area for the kids to play in. Without power, they knew it was only a matter of time before the kids were stir crazy. But no matter what they did, the wind picked up the sand, pelting them. The water was rough and too cold for swimming.
Warmer clothes worked well for their trip, and the winds were not nearly as rough inland, especially once they were under the canopy of ancient trees.
Every year, they paused at the start of the path into the trees, and Jerry let the kids choose their route. “Remember the numbers, kids, because you’re gonna be the guides.”
Ethan pointed to the very top of the map. “Up to station seven,” he said.
“Can we go over the boardwalk?” Hannah asked. Ethan traced the path that would take them through the marsh and to the end of the trail before it naturally doubled back.
“Of course you both pick the longest trail,” Tommy said. He poked Ethan’s side, eliciting giggles. “You’re way too old for anyone to carry you. You’ll have to soldier on when you get tired.”
“We won’t get tired,” Hannah promised. Tommy rolled his eyes at his mom, who shrugged. They would; they always did.
At first, they searched for deer and raccoons. Ethan was on a salamander kick, having just read about them. Any time a leaf so much as rustled, he insisted it must be a salamander. They all played along. Tommy pointed to birch bark, curled like white paper in the underbrush. Here, somehow, the birch trees seemed to have avoided or survived the birch borers which had killed off so many others throughout Michigan.
“We’ll never spot animals if you don’t shush a little,” Jerry noted placidly when Ethan began to shout about a chickadee. Why he was so excited by a bird they saw daily at their own bird feeder, Tommy didn’t know.
Half an hour later, Tommy lagged behind. The forest breathed green, trees teeming with something old and calm. Far above him, the trees muttered, chatting with the wind. He closed his eyes and soaked in the palpable magic. When he opened his eyes, his family were far ahead of him. His mother tossed a look over her shoulder just before they disappeared over a hill. He gestured to his left, indicating he was going to go his own way. With a half wave, she walked on. A little way down the fork in the path, he came across a small wooden structure with benches that overlooked a small hill. The forest floor was carpeted in ferns and small plants. Squirrels rustled among fallen branches. He took a few pictures and moved on, crossed the low planks over muddy ground that led to a raised boardwalk with a beautiful view of marsh and swamp grasses. Soon enough his family would meet him from the opposite direction, but, for now, he allowed himself some reflective moments. The sun was bright, but the day was still cool. The trees stirred. Years of visits had taught him to balance soaking in these vistas with helping to manage his siblings, who, year after year, insisted on trying to climb the railings to see better. Somehow, he’d never been here alone.
Many new moments were coming soon. No, Tommy would not be alone; he’d have a roommate and friends and classmates. But he might never be this Tommy ever again. He would always be a shadow, a new version imprinted on the collective memory of his family. Stomach dropping, Tommy let himself consider, really and truly for the first time, whether he was ready for that.
Chapter Four
Breakfast Thursday was dry cereal and apples: fruit that hadn’t spoiled. The cottage was still dark. Mare kept them updated on the constantly changing estimates for when power would come back. She’d been promised it would be sometime that day.
“If it doesn’t come back on, Jerry, I think we should consider a hotel or home.” Elise sighed. Hanna and Ethan were fighting over a puzzle Tommy had set down for them. The wind had died down a little, but the water was still rough.
“We can wait it out for the day. Mare said the wind should ease up by afternoon. We can go putt-putting.”
“Really? I—” Tommy paused at the loud knock on the back door.
Chase huddled in the alcove between buildings. “Hey, you,” he said with a tentative smile. They’d texted a time or two yesterday, but both had wanted to conserve battery power on their phones. “Still doing the family-only thing?”
Tommy stepped out and spoke quietly. “Oh, my god, I hope not, I need a break like whoa.”
“Well, if you want, we’re having a big euchre tournament. You’re all welcome to come.”
“All?” Tommy leaned against the wall, arms behind his back and one foot propped up behind him, daring and exposed and utterly unlike himself. The only flirting he knew how to do was borrowed from movies.
“Well, I definitely need a partner, but I know you’re all probably bored. The littles are going to have their own card games.”
“I’ll ask. I mean, I’m a yes,” he promised recklessly, not really caring if his mother was okay with it. After their fight Tuesday and the tension Wednesday, and after heavy reflection and a growing understanding of what independence may mean for him, Tommy wanted to make a choice for himself, unapologetically and selfishly.
Well, he’d probably still be a little worried that his mom would be upset, but Rome wasn’t built in a day.
In the end, Hannah and Ethan voted for a trip to mini golf; Tommy was more grateful than he should have been, both for the break from his family and for the potential of more flirtation with Chase without his parents’ observation.
Chase’s family was loud and comfortable. Their banter was inappropriate and hilarious; Tommy hadn’t laughed so hard in a long time. Unfortunately, he wasn’t terrifically skilled at euchre, and he and Chase were perhaps not the best partners, especially because Chase kept knocking his feet against Tommy’s under the table. It was distracting, but also more exciting than it should be. Eliminated early, Chase sat him in a corner to teach him a speed game called Oh Heck.
“Oh, my god, stop, stop, stop!” While he might have picked up on the gist of the game and the rules, he by no means was experienced enough to match Chase’s speed.
“Heck!” Chase called, arms in the air when he played his last card. Tommy threw his cards at him, laughing through his protests.
“Aren’t you supposed to take it easy on me? I’m new!”
“No mercy,” Chase said. “Go big or go home. Accept nothing but the—”
“No more platitudes,” Tommy was laughing too hard to do more than poke Chase with his foot. Across the room, Jake cheered—he and his mom were slaying all of their opponents.
“This is a nice cottage,” Tommy said. He started sorting cards with Chase. “It’s airy.”
“Haven’t you ever been in here before? You’ve been coming here for years.”
“No, I’ve never seen any of the other cottages.”
Chase took Tommy’s deck and wordlessly put it in its box.
“We done?” Tommy cocked his head.
“Do you want to? See the others?” Chase cleared his throat. “You can see ours, if you want.”
“Oh,” Tommy said. This wasn’t an invitation, like, invitation was it? “Yeah, sure. If that’s fine with—”
“Oh, no one minds,” Chase said easily. Tommy marveled at this and at the other hints of freedom with which he’d seen Chase’s parents entrust him.
“Yeah.” He could be brave. Invitation or not, Tommy thought that maybe the chance would be worth it.
Bravery, apparently, took him only so far. The cottage Chase shared with his cousins was small: a little room with a twin bed, a loft, and a pull-out couch that had been messily pushed back together so sheets and blankets trailed from between the cushions.
Chase leaned against the wood paneled wall in the “hall” outside what he’d said was his room.
“Rock, paper, scissors,” he explained. “Cheryl has the loft.”
“Cozy.” Tommy stood, arms akimbo, unsure where he was meant to be. There was hardly room to move; almost any spot was in most rooms at once. The kitchen was nothing more than a fridge, a two-burner stove, and a counter the size of a postage stamp. His stomach and chest fizzed.
“Hey, wanna play again? I’m not sure I’m really getting it.” Not at all the flirtatious gambit he’d hoped for. Cracking under pressure, he offered a stalling tactic that sounded silly even to his own ears.
Chase’s smile was easy; it always seemed to be. “Sure.”
Tommy’s awkwardness could do nothing but melt in the comfort and camaraderie that came along with playing the card game. The wind spoke, a hollow hum that echoed through the windows, but there was also a lot of laughter. As Tommy improved, so did his competitiveness, and what started as friendly trash talk quickly devolved into slapping each other’s hands through gales of laughter and tussling over cards through false accusations of cheating.
“You did that on purpose,” Tommy said, breathless and still giggling.
“What?” Chase pretended to order the center cards Tommy was accusing him of scattering, “I’d never cheat.”
“You just can’t stand to lose to the new kid.” Tommy grabbed Chase’s hand before he could mess up the cards any further but stopped dead when Chase wrapped his fingers around his hand. Tommy ordered himself to inhale; he was just getting started on that when Chase kissed him.
It was over before Tommy’s brain could wrap around it—his first kiss!—but just as he was sternly ordering himself to do something, anything, Chase leaned over again, slowly, with one hand splayed on the scattered cards and one coming to rest on the curve of Tommy’s neck. His thumb was under Tommy’s ear, and his lips were a little chapped and much, much more confident than Tommy’s.
“Okay?” Chase asked; Tommy wasn’t sure if it was a request for permission or checking to make sure he was fine. Either way, the only answer was yes, and although he couldn’t bring himself to say it, please do it again.
His face must have said it for him, because this time Chase telegraphed what he was going to do next, from the flick of his eyes over Tommy’s lips to the careful hand he put on Tommy’s knee. He closed his eyes before their lips touched. Tommy didn’t, though; he wanted to be wide-eyed, to memorize every second from the flutter of Chase’s black eyelashes to the way the light faded to gray as more clouds rolled in. Another storm was brewing, perhaps; but it was nothing, nothing compared to the rolling swell of need and nerves and hunger swallowing Tommy in this moment.
Tommy’s lips tingled, damp where Chase had very carefully sucked at his lower lip. He pulled back, hoping to see Chase’s eyes flutter open, to read pleasure or happiness in them, to know with a look that he wasn’t failing at this one thing too. A kiss was something so simple on paper, but an unknown with too many potentials in action.
“Okay?” It was his turn to ask and to hope Chase understood what he meant.
“Really, really okay.” Chase’s half smile didn’t read as the confident smirk he so often wore, but something softer, maybe even as young as Tommy felt right then.
Emboldened, or perhaps just drunk on his first kiss, Tommy touched Chase’s ear and cheekbone. “Okay enough for more?”
“Hell, yeah,” Chase said. When he laughed into it with lips already open and breath warm against his skin, Tommy was surprised to learn that kissing could be many things. Kissing could be the kind of fun that was more than just feeling good and hormones, fun that was playful and so present in the moment.
He had just begun to lean back, swaying with the pressure from Chase’s body, scattering cards carelessly, when they heard the slam of the screen door.
“Oh, shit! God, sorry, sorry.” Cheryl covered her eyes and spun around.
“Relax, everyone is dressed,” Chase said.
Mortified, Tommy buried his face in his hands. His cheeks blazed hot against cold palms.
“I’m just…we’re going to go back. Yeah.” Tommy peeked up in time to see Jake peeking over her shoulder, smiling way too wide and giving Chase the most unsubtle thumbs up of all time.
“Oh, well—”
“Sounds great. Shoo,” Chase said before Tommy could demur politely.
“Oh, my god.” Tommy said when the door closed behind them.
“Come on.” Chase stood and tugged on the shoulder of Tommy’s sleeve. “Wanna go to my room? It’s more private.”
Holy shit. Okay. This was happening. Tommy took a breath. He wanted more privacy, he wanted to die of mortification, and he had no idea how to ask for more kisses even when he knew he really wasn’t ready for a lot of stuff that “privacy” implied. Still, he let Chase catch his hand and followed him into his room. It was a mess, with clothes on literally every surface, down to a shirt hanging from a lampshade. Most of the sheets and the blanket had slid onto the floor. The windows were cracked, which was the source of the hollow, eerie whistle of wind he’d been hearing all along. It was chilly. Chase sat on the bed, and so did Tommy. He couldn’t forget, though, Cheryl’s knowing smile and Jake’s thumbs up. What the hell was he doing here with a gorgeous guy who probably knew what he was doing?
“Hey, it’s cool,” Chase said, pulling Tommy’s hands from his face. “It’s not the end of the world. Haven’t you ever been caught—”
“Oh, um. Well, no.” Tommy took a breath. “You’d have to have been…kissing someone. For that.”
“Tommy.” Chase’s smile split his face, so he looked younger, infinitely more vulnerable and open. “Was that your first kiss?”
“Is it completely embarrassing if I say it was?”
“Uh, no.” Chase fist pumped the air. “Score team Chase.”
“Score?” Tommy tried to control his face.
“No, no, not like that.” Chase scooted back until he was propped against the wall. “I mean like…this is really nice. I’m excited and…honored. Oh, my god, that’s so cheesy isn’t it?”
“No,” Tommy said. A smile rose from his toes to his fingers and seeped through to his lips. “Well, maybe. A little. But not in a bad way.”
“You only get to be someone’s first kiss once. If ever. That’s pretty awesome.”
“Have you been someone else’s?” Emboldened, Tommy put his hand on Chase’s knee.
“No.” Chase rolled his eyes. “I know I come off confident and all. I’m told it’s kind of annoying sometimes. But I’ve only ever kissed one other person.”
Tommy started to speak but bit back his questions.
“How’d someone like you go so long with no kisses?” Chase asked.
“I go to a small Catholic school. We’ve all known each other for years. I mean, there could be another gay kid at my school, but, if there is, I don’t know. It would be weird anyway.”
“I can see that.”
“But wait,” Tommy said as he turned toward Chase. “What do you mean, someone like me?”
Chase traced the backs of Tommy’s fingers. Tommy twitched under the soft touch. “You know how cute you are, right?”
Tommy wrinkled his nose. “Cute?”
“As in, good looking. And just—” Chase waved a hand, as if to encompass all of him. “Just you. I like everything about you.”
“Uh.” Tommy cleared his throat. “Something must be wrong with you then. Because all of me includes the weird parts. Like when I say the wrong thing, which is ninety percent of my conversation. And man, I’m so awkward. I mean, yesterday I tripped over nothing at all and have sand burns on both knees.”
Chase kissed below Tommy’s earlobe and spoke against his skin. “That’s part of it,” he said. Heat flooded Tommy’s body, and he marveled that such a small thing, just one kiss, could make his whole body light up. “It’s endearing.”
When Chase swayed against him, Tommy let himself be pressed back until he was on his back with Chase propped up next to him. Chase’s hair hung down around his face. Tommy wanted so, so much, to learn if his hair was as silky as it looked and what Chase’s lips might look like after endless kisses and if Chase would feel the electricity of a simple kiss to his neck. Tommy thought maybe, with Chase’s gold-lit eyes unwavering, he could see what Chase would look like if Tommy kissed his neck—if he was brave enough.
Tommy figured he could be that brave. But he was also uncomfortable, contorted with his legs hanging off the bed, and completely unsure of what the boundaries were, or how to set them.
“Take your shoes off,” Chase said, kicking off his own flip-flops and scooting up until he was lying on his side. Tommy did and lay down, too. Emboldened by Chase’s smile and how comfortable he seemed, Tommy scooted until there was barely any room between them, just enough to feel the electric charge of potential running hot, sparking between their bodies. He put his hand on Chase’s hip. His index finger slipped under Chase’s shirt accidentally.
“Chase,” Tommy said. He licked his lips; his nerves buzzed even louder than desire. “I…I don’t know what I’m doing and I don’t want to make you think I’m—”
“Tommy. Can I kiss you? I promise, there’s no pressure. I’d say I am cool with anything you want, but…I’m not. I mean, I’m not ready for more than that really.”
Tommy sighed and smiled with his whole body. Chase trailed a touch from the knob of his wrist, over his forearm, and around his bicep. “You can definitely kiss me. A lot.”
When he was alone in his bed that night, Tommy mulled over the things he’d learned. How simple touches could make his body sing. How he had the power to make a good-looking, confident boy turn to putty when he sucked lightly along his collarbone. He was delighted to find out, after several kisses, each their own experiment in what worked best, that a sharp nip to his bottom lip could be very, very dangerous. Should future Tommy ever get to make out with a kind, beautiful boy again, he’d try to remember long division the moment he was kissed like that again.
Chapter Five
Tommy awoke the next morning to silence; the wind must have died down, thank god. At first, the constant whistle of air and the buffeting noise of wind burst had been cool, atmospheric. After a few days, it felt as if his ears had been assaulted. Now hey rang in the silence left by the absence of wind.
It was his last day. Tomorrow was the long drive back home to his normal life, away from what felt like the first time he’d ever really been awake. Tommy smiled at his own melodrama and ran his fingers over the sensitive skin of his stomach. He only had a few weeks until his life would change again, until past Tommy would have to dive into a completely different world, forced to become future Tommy. He would never admit this to anyone, but he was to-the-bones-terrified of what was to come. Or, well, he’d never admitted it before. Until this moment he hadn’t even let himself wallow to trace the shape of his fear.
Maybe he could admit it now because he woke up a completely different person, someone who had been kissed, who really, really understood how hungry his body could be, how greedy he could feel for more and more. If allowed, Tommy could gladly kiss Chase (and maybe more) every day for weeks.
His stomach dropped, the fluttering of remembered arousal free-fell into anxiety. Why did he kiss Chase anyway? Aside from the obvious. Because the truth was that there was an even bigger obvious. They’d started something that could never go anywhere. A deep insecurity had always been sewn into him that he would never be desirable, that he’d never get a first kiss, much less a second. He’d never have someone hold his hand or get a casual kiss hello and a longer kiss goodbye and everything that came after those kisses. And those were all things he and Chase could never give each other. Chase had already had those kisses with someone else.
Another lesson learned: Tommy wasn’t made for casual. Kisses were nice (okay, amazing), but he wanted…a boyfriend.
“Tommy?” His mother tapped on the door. “You up yet, honey?”
He huffed. “I am now.” A glance at his phone told him it was 11:30, which he conceded was a little late. He had been up anyway.
“Well, lunch is ready if you want some sort of first meal of the day.”
He pulled on basketball shorts and a clean shirt. She was still hovering by the door when he emerged. She ruffled his hair and smiled with a fondness he thought was maybe edged with something else: longing, wistfulness. They didn’t talk about it much, but he knew she wasn’t ready for him to go either.
“Sorry. I guess I was tired.”
“I guess that happens when you stay out ’til one in the morning with friends you’ve only just met.”
“Mom—”
“I’m kidding, honey,” she said. He shuffled past her. The kitchen table was loaded with leftovers: reheated pasta, some ribs, coleslaw, and a buffet of sandwich makings. He grabbed some of everything, kissed her cheek in thanks, and made his way to the screened-in porch. The bright sun played over the water; skittering clouds spilled inky blue over the lake’s otherwise-variegated shades, sapphire to periwinkle.
Laughter spilled across the lawns. A couple of Chase’s younger cousins were crammed onto a low wooden swing and shouting the words to a repetitive song, changing the lyrics from time to time and cracking each other up. An impromptu soccer game seemed to be going on.
“It’s going to be a beautiful day.” His mom joined him on the porch. Her fingers were wrapped around a glass of iced tea. “Thank god. I think maybe this was the worst beach vacation we’ve ever had.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Tommy said carelessly. “It’s been pretty awesome.”
“Oh, has it?” Her glass clinked when she set it on the table. “Wanna talk about it?”
Tommy blushed so hard, so suddenly, he surprised even himself. “No. I don’t know.” They’d never had a conversation like this. Jerry had done the sex talk thing, which had been agonizing, not because they didn’t have a good relationship, but because he’d admittedly had no idea how to talk about sex that wasn’t of the hetero variety and Tommy had ended up having to talk him through it.
“It’s the strangest thing, you know,” she said. Her eyes were on the horizon. “Knowing that, in a few weeks, you’re going to have a life that I’ll know nothing about.”
“That’s not true,” Tommy said. Her lips were pressed together; he made that face, too, whenever he was trying to control a deep emotion. “I’ll still come home and call. I’m not leaving forever or anything.”
“Oh, honey. But you are. It won’t ever be the same.”
“True.” He took her hand. From his bones to his heart, he knew then exactly what she meant. Growing up with her, having her around for him whenever he wanted, he’d taken that for granted. Soon, she’d only know the pieces of him he chose to share. And it would be so easy to drift away. Tommy swallowed. Maybe it would be best to start figuring out how to create new bridges now, so it wouldn’t be too hard when he was gone. “Wanna know something?”
“Yes.” She squeezed his hand.
“Chase kissed me last night.” Telling her wasn’t as hard as he’d thought it might be.
“First kiss?” Her smile lit up her face.
“Yeah.” Tommy bit his lip. “And it was…” She waited him out, even when his hand slipped from hers. He traced the wooden grain of the table. “Amazing,”
“That’s wonderful. Really. I wish—” She broke off with a little laugh.
“What?”
“My first kiss was so awful. It was awkward and…well, bad.” She winked at him. “A good first kiss is something for the books, honey.”
Dreamily, he remembered how his heart had pounded so hard it hurt, his surprise, and his acquiescence to pleasure. “But I’ll never see him again.” The acknowledgement hit like whiplash.
“That’s hard. But, Tommy.” His mother met his eyes. “It’ll be a good memory, right? You’ll always have that.”
He smiled. “Definitely.”
They sat in silence. Idly, he watched as Ethan scored a goal and the adults sitting around the game cheered.
“Thanks, Mom,” he said finally. “For talking to me. Like this.”
“No, honey.” She stood and cupped his cheek, then kissed his forehead. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”
Half an hour later Hannah and Ethan wandered over, asking to go down to the water.
“I can take them,” he told his mom.
“It’s so nice, let’s all go down.” She was slathering Ethan with sunscreen. “Would you mind getting that lounge chair out of storage for me?”
“Uh, sure.” Tommy grabbed sunglasses and worked his way down to the shed that was under their deck. Truth be told, he did mind, because it was damp and gross. Earwigs and spiders loved it in there, also, occasionally, toads. Not that he minded any of those so much individually, but he wasn’t a fan of all of them all at once, skittering out and from under things unexpectedly. He wrestled the chair down and settled it in a patch of shade that he knew would be sunny once the sun broke over the tall trees behind their cottage. Last night, Hannah and Ethan had dug a giant hole in the sand right by the volleyball net, which seemed like an accident in the making. With a sigh, he settled in the sand and slowly filled it in.
“What’s this, early morning labor?”
Tommy’s head popped up at the sound of Chase’s voice. “More like afternoon labor.”
Chase sat next to him. “True. I only just woke up, so it’s morning to me.”
“Same.” Tommy ran his fingers through the sand. “I figured if anyone wanted to play volleyball, this looked like a broken leg, at minimum. I’m guessing my siblings are responsible.”
“Naw.” Chase began shoveling the sand. “All the kids were involved.”
Tommy paused to look Chase over. His cheeks were a little pink, and the smile he tossed at Tommy was bright, but a bit uncertain.
“Morning,” Tommy said softly.
“Afternoon,” Chase said.
Tommy jostled him with his shoulder. “It’s a time of day.” he bit his lip and gathered courage. “I’m happy to see you, no matter what time it is.”
Chase stopped shoveling and leaned closer. Tommy had a split second to marvel at his own daring; he was about to kiss a boy in broad daylight on a beach. Jake’s voice startled them.
“Chase, c’mon we gotta go to the store.”
“Ugh,” Chase hung his head. “I forgot.”
Tommy sat back and took a breath. What had gotten into him? “Everything okay?”
Chase stood, brushed sand off of his legs, and pulled Tommy up by the hand. He squeezed his fingers. “Definitely.” Tommy knew he meant more than just this moment, and that settled him. Rationally, he knew last night had been awesome. Irrationally, his insecurity whispered that maybe Chase hadn’t liked it or him.
“Listen,” Chase said, glancing back over his shoulder. “We gotta run to town for food and supplies and stuff. But we’re having a bonfire tonight. Do you wanna come? Your family is invited and all. S’mores all around.”
“Yeah, I’d love that.” Tommy swallowed. “I mean, I’ll ask them. But I would like to.”
“Awesome. We’ll probably hang out, too, after the kids go to bed. My uncle bought a crazy amount of fireworks. I think they’re all gonna get a bit crazy tonight. My parents letting loose? I can’t even.”
Tommy had no idea what qualified as letting loose, but he nodded.
“We’re gonna hang out down here, Jake and Cheryl and I. Would you stay for that, too? Please.”
“Definitely.” There was no other answer he could or would give. “We might do some family game night stuff before the kids go to bed, but I’ll come down after?”
“Chase.” Jake jingled car keys; his voice was sharp.
“Coming!” He turned back to Tommy, surprising him with a kiss on his cheek. “See ya.”
Tommy expected more pushback when he announced his intention to go to the bonfire. He didn’t ask, which was new. It wasn’t even three days ago that his mother had pushed back, hard, when he’d tried to do something on his own. His mom smiled, and Tommy knew then that they were both coming to terms with the fact that he was moving on soon.
“Okay,” she said, taking the cards from him and storing them in the cupboard where they kept their games and books.
“Don’t be out too late though,” Jerry said. “We’re gonna have a lot to do in the morning to get on the road by eleven.”
“Can do.” Tommy executed a sloppy salute and drank in their smiles.
That night, Tommy sat idly burning a marshmallow, allowing it to catch fire before blowing out the soft halo of blue and yellow flames. Chase bumped his shoulder.
“So, you’re a burning-your-marshmallow kind of guy, huh?”
The sun clung to the horizon. Dark pressed in from the east. The stars were disrobing, one by one, and Chase’s face in gloaming, a study of shadows cast by the fire, was painfully beautiful. Nightfall and one final stolen moment on a beach were all Tommy had right now. He wanted desperately to kiss Chase, even in front of Jake and Cheryl. He would, if only he thought he could stand it. How are you doing this so easily?
“Watch,” he said instead. Balancing a graham cracker on his knee, he pulled on the skin of crisped marshmallow, slipping it off of the molten core. Juggling the roasting stick, still with marshmallow on it, he made a s’more out of the shell. “And now, you can make another.” He held what was left of the marshmallow over the bonfire. The flames were snapping now, leaping toward the night.
“But it’s burned.” Chase wrinkled his nose.
“It’s toasted.” Tommy handed the s’more to him. “Try it. It’s good.”
“If you say so,” Chase said, with a shake of his head and a tiny slip of laughter.
“It’s an art, you see.” Tommy explained. “You have to let it catch fire, but just a little. Control it.” He swallowed a sudden tightness in this throat. Is that what he was doing?
“And that’s it? It’s done then?”
It had to be; Tommy knew that. Chase had given him something to carry for the rest of his life. Bittersweet, a kiss lingered, a haunting, delicious memory that made his lips tingle. He wanted more; he was hungry in a way he’d never realized he could be. How could he have known desire would be hunger pangs rather than appetite, empty palms and the aching throb of blood under his skin? This was real, this what daydreams meant.
“No,” Tommy said.
Chase was gamely taking a bite. Tommy liked the thoughtful look on Chase’s face as he gave it a shot. “Sorry, man, I don’t think I’m a fan.”
“You don’t have to be,” Tommy said quietly. Chase’s eyes pierced his, unblinking, pooled in darkness.
“Tommy—”
“That’s not all,” Tommy rushed. “You do it again. It’s kind of a game, see. How many times can you get one layer off? Can you get it just right each time?”
“Can you?” Chase handed him the uneaten half of his s’more. Contrary to Tommy’s directions, what marshmallow had been on his stick was being burnt into oblivion. Tommy laid the stick on the sand and considered the multitude of responses that burned on his tongue and the back of his throat. They were past subtext now and they both knew it.
“I’ve never managed.” The graham cracker crumbled, scattering onto his pants, into the wind, lost in the dun and tan of the sand. No one would ever know it had been there, come morning.
“You wanna go for a walk?” Chase spoke quietly, just a whisper over the chatter of friends around the fire and the raucous laughter of his parents and aunts and uncles on the deck. It was the last night, and the last night always went like this: his family preparing quietly to leave, packing and putting to rest the game that was vacation. Routine would rise with the sun as surely as the last bit of summer freedom had set. The others—those renting cottages around them, regardless of the roving groups and families each year—turned this last night into revelry. Tommy had seen and heard it all: midnight games of tag, drunken laughter over country music blasting from a stereo, fireworks, firecrackers, fights. Any other year he’d be packed; he’d be in his bed with his windows open to catch the last sounds of water, to listen to the last vestiges of summer, and imagining what it might be like to not have to slip into his homebound skin.
Soon, Tommy would shed that skin. Home would mean the place he lived most. Who would he be every time he changed into Tommy-coming-to-visit?
The most sobering thought: What if nothing really changed? What if he was the same tired, isolated version of himself wherever he went for the rest of his life? Last night, Chase had opened a door, had introduced him to his body, a foreign self that was unbearably sensitive, beautiful in its potential for pleasure, and helplessly entranced by the freedom of letting go.
Through the night, Tommy had pressed his fingers to each spot Chase had kissed, had tried to force the memories in and in, so he’d never forget even if he may one day regret them. Beyond the circle of butter-colored firelight was the deep dark of places outside the city, where the scattering of stars was a brilliant blanket of lights. Tommy remembered Chase’s lips behind his ear and thought, yes.
Beyond the circle of light, Chase caught Tommy’s pinky with his own, curling them together. “Could I hold your hand?”
“Yeah,” Tommy said, caught off guard by the uncharacteristic uncertainty.
“So…” Chase watched the ground beneath their feet and tugged on Tommy’s hand when they came to driftwood they needed to step over. Most of the cottages were dark. It was pushing eleven. Even the sounds of the beach party were faded and the wind and the water made their constant presence known. “Was last night—did I, like, pressure you, or was it not good or—”
“Oh, no, god.” Tommy couldn’t read Chase’s face. “No, I wanted it. To.” He cleared his throat.
“But you regret it.” Chase said. Tommy pulled him to a stop. Dune grass whispered when the wind kicked up.
“No. Well, not exactly.” Rueful and a little sad, he tested words in his mind, trying to get them just right. “I don’t regret last night with you. It was amazing. You were.”
“Yeah?” Chase shifted closer.
Everything was so heavy all at once. His anxieties and his fears felt like stones pressing him into the wet sand. He’d never felt gravity like this. Tommy shrugged and took a deep breath and thought, but this is here. This is wanting. And I want.
And so, on his toes, heart pounding so hard it drowned the beach song around them, he kissed Chase.
“Seriously,” he said against Chase’s wet lips when he pulled away.
“Amazing,” Chase agreed. “But it’s not a controlled burn. Is that it? The part that scares you?”
Tommy inhaled sharply. “I’m pretty obvious, aren’t I?”
“No,” Chase said. He, too, considered his words. “You were just…there, but not, tonight. So different from last night, and I thought maybe it was because you regretted it, or I had gone too far or something. But then—”
“You’re turning my marshmallow into a metaphor?” Tommy laughed, incredulity painting the words. His skin pebbled with cold in the wind. Chase rubbed his arms to warm him. Tommy tilted his head left.
“Wanna sit?” A few yards from the water was a little alcove of beach, protected by dune grass and flowers. They settled, this time closer, touching from shoulders to knees, and with their intertwined fingers on Chase’s lap. He traced the curves of Tommy’s nail beds. It wasn’t a sensual touch and yet it shivered its way up Tommy’s spine.
“You just seem so sure,” Tommy said at last.
“About kissing you?”
“No, just…everything. When you were talking about college. You’re leaving. Like, leaving. You’re going to be an airplane ride away.” Tommy took a deep breath. “And here I am, scared to go less than an hour from home.”
“What are you scared of?” Chase asked.
“I guess I always thought college would be, like, this place where I could try to be someone…different. I mean, me but…a new me.”
“What kind of new me? You’re kind of mind-blowing as is.” Chase’s lips on his cheek were smiling, and that Tommy could know this in the dark was thrilling.
“I don’t know. I’m…I’m always responsible, I always try to be good. I kinda always told myself it’s what I wanted. But the closer it gets, I think, really, I’m scared. I’ve been scared.”
“I mean…I’m scared. I know I come off as confident, but right now…” Tommy waited him out, giving Chase the space to find the right words. “We’re told, like, all the time, how big of a deal this is. At least, I always was.”
“You mean the ‘what you choose now will determine the rest of your life’ speech?”
“Yeah, man. And like, all the time. Taking the PSAT? ‘Sleep well and eat because this is one of the first steps to the rest of your life.’”
“Taking the ACT? ‘Everything hinges on this single moment,’” Tommy added.
Chase snorted a laugh. “‘Choose the right college.’ ‘This is the biggest decision you’ll ever make.’” The words were dry, laced with a hard edge. Almost bitter. “I dunno. Do you ever thing it’s just crap?”
“Choosing the right college?” He couldn’t clearly see Chase, but confused, he still tried to read his face.
“Yeah. Like, I don’t know how to make fuckin’ mac ‘n cheese! Seriously. Who put me in charge of this?” Chase put his head on Tommy’s shoulder. “I think—well, hope—we can change our minds, if we need to. There’s all this pressure to get this one choice right, when we have no idea what it’s even like to be on our own.”
“So…what you’re saying is that nothing is set in stone,” Tommy hazarded.
“Maybe. Maybe that’s just one part of it.” Chase shifted, then lay down and tugged Tommy with him. “God, look at the stars.”
“I know.” Tommy thought he’d always remember this. He thought of bittersweetness and how it lingered. How, after he’d left Chase’s room last night, he’d tried to control the swell of emotions tangling in his chest and belly and heart. No one wanted to be hurt, and Tommy was terrified that he’d walk away from an amazing memory and regret it. “I’m scared of not having control,” Tommy confessed. He rolled toward Chase. They’d be covered in sand, and the damp was seeping into his clothes. A chill was settling into his bones, but Chase was so warm.
“I get that,” Chase said. “But there’s only so much you can control. No matter how much you want to know how something will end.”
“Like this,” Tommy said. He held his breath, wondering at how the words sounded, how they might land. There was such a gap between intention and reception. Even words, he realized, were out of his grasp the moment he loosed them. Suddenly he knew. He felt his body at a precipice, on the edge of something huge, and had no idea what would be there when he tipped forward.
“No.” Chase traced Tommy’s nose and then lips with a gentle finger. “That doesn’t mean meeting you wasn’t awesome.”
They would never have this again. Sure, they could keep in touch, trade funny snaps chronicling transitions into dorms and parties and classwork. Perhaps this fleeting connection would fade. Perhaps they’d become the sort of friends with a shared memory but nothing else in common. They were bound for different lives, different states, different truths. Tommy couldn’t begin to guess how that was going to feel a week, a month, years from now. Maybe it would hurt; he was sure that at first it would. It stung already. A goodbye sat on the horizon, ready to rise with the sun.
The electric shock of Chase’s lips on his, right then, in the whisper of wind and the honesty of August in Michigan, the smell of sand dunes and late summer flowers, stripped him. He opened his lips to Chase’s. His fingers were lined with sand he scattered through Chase’s hair. Tommy let Chase press him back onto the sand. There was nothing about this night he wouldn’t remember, and that—that was a beautiful thing. The unknown lingered. This was a moment he could never have predicted, and maybe he felt a little wild, and maybe he was giving in to a recklessness that was utterly unlike him, but, deep down, Tommy trusted that it would be okay. He trusted that he’d be okay and that maybe change would mean holding on to who he was deep down but letting go a little as well, letting himself take a chance.
Chance was a risk, but everything, everything that was coming next was, too, no matter how much Tommy had wanted to control it. He risked his heart with Chase, and not because he thought this was love. It was because he was putting himself into someone else’s hands. He was taking a piece of Chase for himself as well and that—when they exchanged little pieces of themselves—was a moment Tommy would always remember and think That was the moment when I let myself be.
About Jude Sierra: Jude Sierra is a Latinx poet, author, academic and mother working toward her PhD in Writing and Rhetoric, looking at the intersections of Queer, Feminist and Pop Culture Studies. Her novels include A Tiny Piece of Something Greater (Foreword INDIES Finalist, 2019), What it Takes (Starred Review, Publishers Weekly), and Idlewild, a contemporary LGBTQ romance set in Detroit’s renaissance that was named one of Kirkus Reviews’ Best Books of 2016.