He awoke with an erection that was almost painful.
There was the room, now crammed so full of piles all that remained was the bed and a narrow passage to the door. Clothes, shoes, toys, furniture, bags, cushions, a trolley, a ladder, jewellery, teddy bears, coats—so many coats—pots and pans, buckets, wood, garden tools, and a baby life jacket crowded the carpet. His task was almost done.
But instead of the nightmares and memories fading with the day light, they hung around whispering between the piles, darting under the bed with their names and faces. It worried him—a gap next to the wardrobe, hardly any room at all—enough to let them in. Even banging his head sharply as his father used to do would not send them away.
The unstoppable craving to gather and collect the goods had left its marks—scratches and scrapings, scabs and bruises. His task was done, but in place of the force was ringing in his ears, which must be happiness.
He’d told. Last night at training, he’d told, and now it was rolling and gathering pace. He wanted to untell, but there was much more to come.
Because he wasn’t sorry.
He didn’t want to untell.
He was glad they knew, because he hadn’t missed the extra attention from Zack. Kaz wanted him to know and then he wanted him to know more.
He wanted Zack.
He hid in his knees and rocked in time to the feet—one foot and then the other—one foot and then the other—the waves—until the bleeping broke the rhythm.
“Zack?”
“Babe! OMG it’s our run tonight. I’m so scared! What if I trip?” He cradled the phone gratefully. “Kaz?”
“Sorry, I’m here. Stop your worrying and listen to me. You are going to do brilliant! Do you hear me? You will run with your team and make us so proud.”
“What if I let them down, though? What if they don’t get through because of me?” The wobble in Zack’s voice rang across the piles. “I fail everything.” There was a noise like a gulp. “I-I…ate a whole pizza when I got home last night. I didn’t mean to, but I got in, and then Adam texted and… Chocolate, too…ice cream…lasagne.” The rapid words stopped abruptly. Something wasn’t right, but then Kaz remembered lasagne was the only food Zack didn’t like.
“Zack, stop! You meet me at the bench in half an hour, OK? It’s very early, so you can still get to work on time.”
“Yes.”
“You’re all right.” Kaz gripped the phone. “I’m here now.”
***
“What happened?” As soon as he saw Zack, the colours of the day became brighter. He had the team and the race. Even though his room was finished, he still had a role and a task. The tightness around his chest eased.
“Nothing, really. Me being a gut bucket, like always. It was just—nothing. I stuffed myself.”
But soon, Zack would go back to work. The race would come and go, and his friends would get back to their lives and families. Zack would stop being interested, and then stop calling.
The coil of panic around Kaz’s heart squeezed much tighter than before.
“I drank the cider last night.”
Zack stared at him. “You didn’t text me!”
“Neither did you.”
“I did want to, but then I wanted the pizza, too.” Zack sighed. “I was starving.”
“Maybe we change the pact details? If either of us is falling off the wagon, we ring the other to tell them why.”
“It’s not always easy, though, is it—admitting it.”
“No.”
“I mean the truth is I’m a greedy bastard. I eat when I’m happy, eat when sad and all the in-between. All day long, I kept thinking about that pizza and how it would taste. It’s like a script in here.” He tapped his head. “What made you drink, though?”
“I—I’m not sure.”
“Aww, babe.” Zack put a hand on Kaz’s knee. “After what you told us last night, I’m not surprised.”
The world lurched.
“Let’s start the pact again?” Zack suggested. “But next time, instead of telling me you’re off the wagon, text a code word and instead of telling you off, I’ll do jokes until I can get to you. Agreed? Maybe I can cheer us both up.”
“Agreed.”
“And if that fails, we can eat my cakes.” Zack took a small box from his shoulder bag and blushed. “Here—a reminder that you’re not alone. It’s nothing much—something silly I saw at the weekend. Throw it away if you don’t want it.”
Kaz clutched the box too tightly.
“Go on,” Zack urged.
It was a soft toy doughnut with legs and arms, dressed up in running shoes and shorts.
“It’s meant to encourage people to exercise.”
For what felt like all of Kaz’s life, he’d ached. Listening to his friends at school, he’d done the same things, told the right jokes, woken up in the morning and got through. He could copy anyone, breathe in the right way, and speak like he was normal. On the outside, he was a clone with toughened skin to hide the shame.
But in the end, the ache burned right through until even on the outside, it began to show. The thick skin got thinner.
On the day it happened, he hadn’t meant to tell his parents. It started as a conversation about college and ended in his mother crying. There could be no forgetting the way his father looked—right through to the dirty, secret, inner core. There were furious talks about things that had no name, things he didn’t know were possible. Of course, he’d tried to explain, but by then, it was out, unstoppable as the waves.
He was broken and crushed, but that ache was the glue holding together his bones, and now it was shouting to be heard.
“What we need,” he said shakily, “is a new bench.”
Zack nodded. “OK. After the run tonight, let’s have a team picnic and find one somewhere else.”
“Now. We need it now.”
Kaz looked at Zack, and Zack looked back. For a few seconds, the bench, the rooftops and even the trees blowing in the breeze silently exploded. Zack stood and beckoned for Kaz to follow.
“How about this tree?” Zack showed him an enclosed shady spot underneath a tree inside the park entrance. “I used to come here when I bunked off school.”
“I like this spot.”
It shimmered in the air, like heat off the desert or energy before a run. Nothing he could see, but he knew it was there and that Zack knew, too. It was overwhelming and fierce. Zack’s hands shook but that just made Kaz want to do it more.
Kaz had dreamt about kissing, but always in nasty alleyways with people chasing and his father’s shout.
The wind was blowing his hair, and he could feel the sun warming his face. For a few seconds, he kept his lips still against Zack’s as if waiting for a sign. He felt Zack squeezing his hands then holding his waist, and finally his lips moved.
The ache went from his legs up past his back and straight through his mouth. It was slow and sweet like giggling with friends and eating treats. There were no gangsters or guns, only hot skin and not enough breath. They bumped noses and teeth but then Kaz leaned and leaned and lost himself.
“I didn’t think you’d ever! Is this OK?”
“Mm,” Kaz said. “Don’t stop.”
“You don’t mind?” Zack whispered some time later into his ear. “About me being huge?”
Kaz stroked his hair tentatively, not believing he was allowed. “There’s a lot of things to mind in this world. But that’s not one of them.” He kissed Zack again, and again. “In fact, that is one of many things we should celebrate about you.”
He wrapped his arms around Zack’s shoulders and hugged, and hugged, until all the air between them disappeared into the delicious.
“I’d better go to work soon, babe,” Zack finally said between kisses. “Wish I could stay forever. Live under this tree and eat cakes with you. Kiss you.”
“One more kiss?”
“I can never say no—that’s why I’m so fat.”
Kaz stroked the back of Zack’s neck. “You are perfect the way you are. Do you hear me?” A red line went from Zack’s cheeks to his chin and under his top. One day soon, Kaz knew he’d follow that line with kisses just to prove his point. He wanted and wanted, and when a want was that urgent, all the reasons not to dwindled away.
“If you say so!” Zack giggled. “Kaz—I’ve got a confession.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t give up the diet. I just wanted an excuse to see you.”
“I know. And I didn’t drink cider. Haven’t since the start of our pact.”
This time, the kiss went to tongues and legs moving, and suddenly it was all heat and longing.
“Don’t let me go.”
Terrible things happened once you let someone go. Once your hands could no longer hold, they slipped away into the waves or further—further—away from the headlamps. For a while, Kaz gripped Zack’s shoulders, never wanting the arms around his waist to let go.
“I’m gonna be so late,” Zack murmured. “I’ll say I knew that tyre was flat.”
They finally walked slowly away from the magic to the car, away from the tree and back into the world. One foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other, and too soon, they were under the glare of the rooftops.
Still there. Always there.
A cloud crossed the sky, and all the sunshine that had lit up Kaz’s body faded.
He shivered.
“You cold, babe? Are you gonna be OK?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” But he didn’t feel fine. Now the kiss was only a mixing of saliva that didn’t mean anything except what his father had said.
You cannot be both.
It was carved into his being, and all the cakes in the world could not sweeten it.
“I mean—I don’t understand about the religion, obviously. But I can learn?”
As Kaz focused on watching Zack instead of rooftops and flashing red lights, he noticed the sign across the street. It was hand written and said ‘Car Boot Sale, St Mary’s. 10a.m’.
“What’s a car boot sale?”
“It’s where people empty out their house and sell crap they don’t want for pennies. Some people even give it away. Are you really OK? You look a bit funny.”
“Oh.” Two or three more bags might do it. The light surged back through Kaz like a racing car with no brakes. The dizziness and sickness were swaying, but now he could go on. “Yes, I’m OK.”
“See you later, then.” Zack leaned forward and kissed Kaz’s cheek lightly. The rooftops loomed back into view, and for a while, his heart and head fought, but it was an old fight with no victors.
“Have a good day,” he told Zack brightly, and began calculating how many more piles he would require.
* * * * *