A Love Unexpected Ch. 20

Love All, Trust A Few, Do Wrong To None: William Shakespeare, Part 2



Dylan was fuming as he sat in his lifeguard chair. Coming across Jake in the parking lot at lunch had startled him, but he wasn’t angry at him. He was angry at himself and his childish reaction to Jake’s staring. How could he be so cruel?

Jake looked terrible. His usually-sparkling eyes were dull and lifeless, there was a pallor to his skin that his light sunburn couldn’t hide and his clothes looked loose on him. He almost reminded Dylan of a zombie in a second-rate horror film, and he didn’t need anyone to tell him who was responsible for the changes.

“Hey, Dylan.” He heard a female voice whining below him and looked down at a blonde lifeguard with curves spilling out of her one-piece suit looking up at him seductively. “Your shift is over. Get out of my chair.”

Dylan gathered his gear and sauntered off to the staff bathroom. A pair of his shorts lay folded on the bench, and he quickly remembered the last time somebody was wearing them and who that somebody was. His eyes flew to Jake’s locker, now gaping empty across the way. He groaned.

Opening his own locker he picked up the shorts and something fell to the floor. It was a sheet of lined paper torn from a spiral pad with a half-page note in Jake’s handwriting.

Dylan,

I’m sorry about today in the parking lot. It’s been a couple of days since I saw you and it shocked me. But don’t lose sleep over it because I promise it won’t happen again.

So it turns out I do know Clarence. Just like you suspected, it’s Tony. I never heard him go by his first name before so it caught me by surprise on Saturday. I still don’t know why he started using it in college or what he did to you or why you were up in my shit over him. Keep your secrets because they don’t matter now.

I want you to be happy. Please make peace with Marcus. You two were tight before I came along and messed things up. When I lived in Madera, Dylan and Noah, that was all he ever talked about. It made me jealous, to be honest, over how cool his friends sounded. I want that for you three again.

So anyway, I guess that’s all I have to say. Except, I loved you. I really did and have since I met you.

Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.

Jake

A lead weight settled in the pit of Dylan’s stomach, the force of his own actions settling on him over the finality of the note. Surely, Jake wouldn’t be so stupid as to…

His shower forgotten, Dylan threw on a shirt and ran to his truck. He thought about calling Jake but that would only delay his arrival at the Walker home. Maybe Pat, if she was even there, would pick up but he wasn’t sure of his reception anymore.

Marcus answered the door, and his eyes snapped at the sight of a distracted Dylan on his front porch. “What do you want?” He didn’t feel the need to be nice.

Dylan tried to control his breathing and stop shaking, especially seeing how calm Marcus was behaving. His anxiety now felt rather silly. The Walkers’ cul de sac was quiet, and it was a sunny summer afternoon. He began to think he had overstated the meaning of the note. But he wasn’t willing to take that chance. Since he was already here, even if it meant Marcus’ suspicions, he might as well ask just to be sure.

“I stopped by to see if Jake is okay.”

“You really are a prick, Dylan.” Marcus shook his head in amazement. “You kick his ass six ways to Sunday over your stupid little melodrama shit, and then you want to know how he is? How do you think he is? He’s fucked up.”

With reluctance, Dylan pulled out the note. “He left this at my locker at the pool.”

Marcus green eyes ran down it quickly. “So?” Obviously, Marcus didn’t see the urgency, but then his face brightened with knowing. “Oh, so you think…” He began to laugh wryly.

“You give yourself far too much credit, Dylan. Jake isn’t suicidal. He arrived home a few minutes ago and said he was tired so he went to bed. That’s all. I hope he fell asleep. He’s been dead on his feet for five days straight, and I was nearly ready to spike his soda with sleeping pills.” Marcus thought about his choice of phrases and grinned dourly. “No pun intended. Look, my cousin may be messed up, but not to the point of killing himself.”

Dylan turned red and said, “I just wanted…”

“You just wanted what?” Marcus sneered. “To get him off your conscience?” He knew he was delving into Jake’s business when he’d promised not to, but he was tired of Dylan hurting him. Somebody needed to take up his defense instead of letting this guy continue to pummel him for no reason.

“I know you don’t appreciate him, but Jake is one of the sweetest guys I know, and I’m not just saying that because he’s my cousin. He’s loyal and knows how to treat his friends right. He doesn’t go around hurting others for sport like you do. If he says he didn’t do something, he didn’t. He has been under so much pressure because of his mom and dad, and with everything else going on he can’t catch a break.

“You come over on Saturday, supposedly to help him, and what’s the first thing you do? You start looking through his high school yearbooks, and then you get in his face demanding answers about some kid he’s never heard of when he’s trying to explain the best he can. You’re calling him a liar and accusing him of playing you. Then you walk out on him for something he never saw coming because, guess what! He isn’t clairvoyant.”

“All he had to say was that he knew that Clarence kid.” Dylan knew he sounded like a whiny kid.

“He does, but is it Jake’s fault he used his middle name all through high school and everyone knew him as ‘Tony’? The least you could’ve done was explain why it was so damn important. If they were one and the same, Jake might have been able to help you, but instead you kept throwing his words back in his face. You went way over the line, and you know it.”

“Can we forget last weekend for a few minutes?” Dylan asked desperately. “I want to make sure he’s going to be okay.

“No, you just can’t act like it never happened,” Marcus insisted sharply. “So maybe you finally came to your senses and realized what you gave up. Have you even listened to any of his voicemails or read his texts?”

“That’s not it,” Dylan tried to insist, although his guts were twisting in guilt. “I…”

Marcus made a pushing motion with his hand as if warding off something distasteful. “Do you want to know what Jake said to me? He said it wouldn’t have mattered what he told you that afternoon because, innocent or not, you needed someone to blame so you chose him. Tell me, why should he answer to you when you just want to make wild assumptions? He was speaking the truth. You’re supposed to love him and believe him. You think he’s protecting Tony? Why would he? They’re enemies. But you wouldn’t listen, and you fucked him over just to make yourself feel better. So great, feel better but know that apologizing isn’t going to help him one bit.”

It sounded as if Marcus had appointed himself Jake’s personal bodyguard, meaning Dylan would probably never get a chance to talk to him alone. “Don’t you think Jake should make that call?”

“Probably, but he’s too hurt to even face you.” Marcus had no intention of relenting. “The best thing you can do is leave him alone and let him forget about you in peace.”

Dylan gasped. Had it really come to the point where Jake just wanted to forget him? Ah, but that was what the note was all about, wasn’t it. Not killing himself. He was saying goodbye. He was doing exactly what Dylan’s conduct at lunch expected of him—to roll back this whole miserable summer and pretend he’d never met Jake. And maybe it would be best, even if the thought did send cold chills down his spine.

Marcus continued. “Obviously, I can’t tell Jake what to do, but if it were up to me, I’d transfer him out of Long Beach State and into a different college so he wouldn’t have to worry about bumping into you at school on accident. If you’re any kind of decent guy, you’ll leave him alone once you return. He’s going to have a hard enough time dealing with his father’s psycho-stalking, and he doesn’t need you busting his ass too.”

Dylan nodded. The truth was, he didn’t want to bust Jake’s ass, at least not in that sense. He wanted to smother him in kisses. He missed him. He missed his enthusiasm for life and how fiercely protective against outsiders he was of their relationship. How he blushed over sex, and the gentle cries he’d make when he came so passionately. And with those thoughts, all the love he’d tried to force out came flooding back in, making the longing almost a physical pain. A chill seized his heart when he considered never seeing Jake again.

He wished there was a way to take back everything he’d said about Clarence because it was starting to feel like a bunch of nothing, at least not important enough to risk his future with Jake over. But he was afraid it was already too late. The note made it pretty clear that Jake was giving up, so maybe he should admit defeat, say it was the best four weeks of his life and be done with it.

He knew it was the cowardly way out and that Jake deserved much more than him slinking away. At the very least he deserved an apology for Saturday’s innuendos and his rude statement at lunch. All of a sudden, Dylan realized that everything Marcus had said about him was the truth. He had used his boyfriend. He had pushed him away for the sake of his own pride, and somehow, it seemed sadder on the other foot.

**

With the heartrending decision to leave Dylan alone so he could move on with his life, Jake felt a sense of dark freedom. He knew his own cure would be a long time coming, but with plans now made to leave town, it would be a start. He had called his brothers the night before and David actually sounded happy with the idea of Jake living with him for three weeks.

Two days passed. The last day of camp went smoothly, and Jake couldn’t wait to get home. He liked teaching baseball to kids, but in the end, it was just a job. Coach Able had shaken his hand goodbye when he learned Jake would not attend the luncheon the next day, reminding him that he was a fine player and he should consider becoming a P.E. teacher. Coach wished him all the best and they parted as friends.

Marcus was at work with his father at his garage, and Jake found Pat making spaghetti sauce in the kitchen. He pulled a stool up to the breakfast bar. She could tell something was on his mind, so she put the spicy tomato mixture on simmer and waited.

“You know I love you guys, don’t you, Aunt Pat.”

Patricia frowned. She didn’t like the start of this conversation. “This sounds like bad news.”

“It is, kind of. You and I talked about what Dylan did last weekend.” She nodded, and Jake sighed. “I need to get away from here. Not that I don’t appreciate everything you and Uncle Avery have done for me. But it’s too hard living in the same town where I have to worry about running into him.”

Pat looked aggrieved. This wasn’t entirely unexpected. Every night she could hear Jake tossing and turning in bed. He had lost interest in all the activities he once loved and hadn’t surfed in over a week. He didn’t see friends, and his appetite had shrunk to nothing. She knew he was depressed and hoped time would be kind to him and allow him to let go. As much as she adored her nephew, maybe starting over somewhere else was for the best.

“What do you propose?”

“David said I could move into the extra bedroom at his and Penny’s apartment. It will give me an idea of distance so I can choose whether to stay there once school begins if I want to commute and save money. Now that I’m a sophomore, I don’t have to live in a dorm. The best part is that Dad doesn’t know David’s address and I’ll be harder to find.”

Pat smiled sadly. Jake had it all figured out. All except for the part that he was like another child to her and Avery, like their second son, and she hated to see him leave. “Okay,” she sniffed, fighting tears. “But you know we love you, and you can come back anytime, right?”

Jake got up and put his arms around her. He had a lump in his throat too. “I always will, Aunt Pat.”

The sadness was not all for moving away from the Walkers. It was acknowledging that once he left Aleppo Park his relationship with Dylan would be over. Five days had passed since their disagreement, and not once had the other boy shown any sign of reconciling. Jake was thinking that leaving over the weekend would be best for everyone, and that was more than enough time if Dylan wanted to apologize. If not, well, there was only so much leniency he could be expected to extend. He had to learn to live without him for his own peace of mind.

The next morning Jake ditched the final day camp meeting and began to pack. He rued Marcus’ decision in May to make the extra bedroom his own because it was going to take half a day to retrieve his belongings from the four corners and under every piece of furniture in between.

Avery said he could put his surfboard back up in the rafters of the garage until he needed it. He was sure going to miss surfing now that he was so accustomed to spending time at the breaks two or three times a week. He speculated whether it would be better to tell the new friends he’d made goodbye in person or by phone. He didn’t want a lot of drama, and he knew Sage would cry.

Marcus wandered in, looking sleepy. “What’s going on?”

Jake had been dreading this. “I’m moving to David’s,” he said slowly and turned to face him, forcing a smile. “I can’t stay here, Marc. Not when it all reminds me of Dylan.”

His cousin’s face turned hard. “This is so unfair. He’s the asshole, and you’re leaving? He should be the one to avoid the beach and every other place we hang at. You’re out there way more often than he is anyway.”

Jake shrugged. “This isn’t my home anymore, Marcus. Remember, I went to Madera, and his family is here. I’m just a seasonal visitor. So it’s best that I leave.”

“But Jake…”

He faced Marcus with serious frown. “No, Marc. This fight between the two of you is all wrong. You and Noah and Dylan were tight. I want you to be tight again. I want you to forget about this summer, at least the bad parts, and not hate him. Call it something happening beyond our control that he couldn’t fix. I’ll move past this but only if the two of you bury the hatchet and agree to get along. Do it for me if not for yourself.”

Tears sprang to Marcus’ eyes, and he hated that he was crying. “But you’re my bro, Jake. If I make up with him, it’s like saying you don’t matter. It’s telling him that it’s okay to treat you like that.”

“Please, Marcus. Don’t make me feel worse because I split you guys up too.”

“But Jake…” He looked at his cousin, seeing him dying inside and knew how much it hurt to leave his hometown all over again. He had to give in, if only to let Jake have some peace. Reluctantly they bumped knuckles. “Okay, bro, I’ll try.”

It was all either of them could do.

Dylan was disappointed when he arrived at the rec center that morning and Jake was absent. He heard one of the baseball assistants ask Coach about him and learned that he wasn’t going to attend the luncheon either. Somehow it didn’t surprise him. It seemed as if Jake had gone to ground over the past week, doing his best to avoid Dylan at all costs.

The luncheon was boring with a decent enough meal but lots of canned speeches about how the program couldn’t survive without its assistants. Some awards were handed out in the various sports. Jake received a commendation for doing such an exemplary job at short notice after coming in on the eve of day camp to pick up the slack for the kid who suddenly quit.

Dylan was voted the ‘parent’s favorite swim teacher’ causing one of the other pool instructors to snicker. “At least we know he didn’t buy the vote,” and he made a lewd gesture that had the rest of the table laughing.

The ceremony couldn’t get over fast enough, but it was almost 3:30 by the time the last prize was bestowed. Dylan was not in a good mood as he whipped out his phone while walking to the parking lot. Again he thought about how much of a habit that hanging out with Jake had become, and now that he wasn’t around, he was bored and lonely.

“Noah,” he shouted when the phone was answered. “How are you doing?”

Noah hesitated at first. He, Luis and the Caldwell twins had moped around Aleppo Park for the past week feeling out of sorts and trying to put their heads together to work for a solution. Sage, since she came across as the most sympathetic, was keeping in touch with Marcus who was fuming mad with his former bestie, Dylan. He reported that Jake was a wreck and had no interest in much of anything except pining for his ex-boyfriend. He was losing weight and his environment had shrunk to day camp and the Walker home, mostly in his bedroom.

Noah and Sage were almost to the point of wanting to stage an intervention between Jake and Dylan except for the fact that nobody thought they could persuade the two of them to sit down together in the same space. However, the vote was close to unanimous that this was Dylan’s fault for unfairly climbing all over his boyfriend’s ass on Saturday. It was unclear what, if anything, Jake had done wrong.

Noah hoped that Dylan’s willingness to hang out for the first time all week meant he was ready to open up. Obviously, the kid at college, Clarence, was very upsetting to him, and the picture he had seen in the yearbook made him suspect Jake was part of it. Knowing the Nielsen boy as well as he did, Noah doubted there was any validity to Dylan’s fears. The faster this was cleared up, the faster the crew could begin to repair what Dylan had broken so they could all be friends again.

Noah suggested meeting at 7:30 since his parents were going out. Dylan was there on the dot, all smiles and goodwill and jumping in excitement after nearly a week, and Noah let him in. He and their three friends were as glum as if they were attending a funeral.

“Uh, hi guys.” Dylan looked at the lackluster faces staring back at him from Noah’s family room couch and chairs. Sage’s eyes were red indicating that she had been crying, but she was sensitive to others’ hurts and it bothered her that Jake refused to speak to anyone. Spencer didn’t want to hear any excuses from his former water polo teammate; neither he nor Luis had been present at the Walkers when the fight took place, but the stories were bad enough, and his sister giving in to tears made him uncomfortable. The same more or less was true for Noah, and that this was all Dylan’s fault, in his own opinion, didn’t endear him any.

“Am I walking into an interrogation?” he tried to joke when nobody seemed very enthusiastic at the sight of him.

“That sort of depends on you,” Sage answered with a squeak as her eyes brightened with tears again. “We want to know what’s going on between you and Jake before Marcus rips your head off. We miss you guys. All of you.”

Dylan looked surprised. “You aren’t hanging out with Marcus and Jake?” One of the reasons he’d stayed away was because he thought the crew had gotten together and decided to exclude him.

Luis shook his head, and Noah made a disgusted face before saying, “Have you seen Jake at all?”

Dylan swallowed hard, remembering the last time he caught sight of him. Three days before in the parking lot at the rec center. “Just in passing at camp. We’re on opposite sides of the center.”

“Oh, there’s a good excuse,” Spencer sniped, narrowing his eyes. “We can’t get close to him, but you won’t take the few extra steps to make sure your ex-boyfriend who is falling apart because of you is okay?”

Dylan threw up his hands. “Okay, I can see where this is going. What do you want from me?”

“You can start with the truth, Dylan,” Noah said in a severe tone, shaking his auburn hair out of his eyes. “Tell us who this Clarence kid is and what he did to you. After that, explain how Jake ties in to him, because even though I heard your swearing and accusations last weekend, I am still confused.”

Dylan looked at his friends and knew the time for secrets was over. He was tired of hiding, and in truth, this went along with the entire coming out situation he had avoided up until the month before. He was so lucky compared to other gay teens to have such a tolerant and sympathetic family, because he’d heard the stories. Jake was only one example.

“Fine,” he agreed, taking a seat on the end of the couch and slipping his flip flops off his feet. “I’ll tell you everything if you answer one simple question for me. How do you know Jake is telling the truth about what happened to him with his dad?”

“Oh honestly!” Sage sulked, crossing her thin arms. “Is that what this shit is all about, Dylan? I saw the bruises on him the day after he arrived when we went surfing.”

“So did I,” Noah said. “He wore an A-shirt under his shortie to cover them up as best he could, but they were there. “Stomach, back and jaw.”

Dylan looked at Spencer and Luis who were glaring back, but they had seen them too. There was no denying it now. Jake had not lied about his father, meaning he’d almost definitely told the truth about Tony. Dylan knew he was in a world of trouble, and explaining his story to his friends was just the beginning of the groveling he was going to have to do.

He blew out a long breath. “I might as well…”

By the time Dylan was a sophomore at Long Beach State he no longer struggled with his sexuality much. He knew he was gay. On the advice of his uncles, Chris and Bruce, he was careful who he told, but his roommates knew. One of them, Troy, was gay too which was, in fact, the big reason they agreed to share a dorm. They were not paired romantically, just good friends. There was safety in numbers, and Troy’s current boyfriend wasn’t comfortable living with him because he wasn’t fully out yet.

Through Troy, Dylan met other gay students on campus. Some became good friends and they shared a variety of interests. There wasn’t anybody he actually felt an attraction to; after all he still had at least one foot near the closet depending on circumstances. By the second semester he was friends with a loose coterie of young men, some who dated. Looking back now, he was surprised that it didn’t include Jake. Well, considering his upbringing, maybe not so surprising.

It was in the spring and began small. A senior in a committed couple, a friend of friends, had received an anonymous e-mail with pictures of him and his boyfriend together, kissing as they parted to go to their separate classes. Except for the fact that someone was snapping photos of him without permission, it didn’t bother him—he was fully open about his lifestyle. But his lover, who was afraid of any hint of homosexuality getting back to his ultra-religious family, nearly had a heart attack when he saw the corresponding message: ‘What would your friends at home think if they saw you like this?’

The situation escalated rather quickly after that. Gay men were being targeted by some prankster getting his kicks by taking pictures of them, in couples or just friends touching each other in a semi-intimate way, and sending them through snail-mail or the anonymous library electronic system. Or in the logical next step, attaching them to student bulletin boards around campus, which was almost worse. It even reached the point where fake messages arranging meetings went back and forth, and it all seemed to be a practical joke, but hardly harmless.

Some of the pictures listed e-mail addresses of parents and siblings, showing there was a potential for sending them home. Students were threatened by bigots, four young men were hospitalized after beatings, and the administration, while trying to help, didn’t know where to look for the elusive photographer. Accusations flew back and forth, and it was difficult to tell who was most hurt; the couples themselves or the non-photographed who were accused of being the person behind it.

The stalking went on for over three weeks, mostly of upperclassmen and almost exclusively within the theater arts, music and engineering programs. Friends of Troy’s, neither of them out anywhere but at school, got caught up in the maelstrom with their photos taken, and they almost broke up over it. Only this time it was a little more personal for Dylan. He was in the picture. Well, part of him was.

The others stared at Dylan in astonishment. “So, you’re telling me that some student up at your school was going around targeting gay couples by taking their pictures and leaving them all around the campus?” Luis asked.

Dylan nodded. “One day I was relaxing at a table on the cafeteria patio with my roommate and several of our friends when he introduced me to a new couple he’d met through a university LGBT-community activity. A couple days later a picture of the two of them showed up on a student bulletin board. I knew when it had been taken because my clothing was in the actual photo.”

It was just a casual get-together, but the smaller man had been perched in his boyfriend’s lap while Dylan sat close by. For some weird reason his attention was drawn to this tall, muscular teenager with black hair who was taking photos on his cell phone camera. The shots seemed totally random—he would catch a single shot of what looked like background, and then he’d zero in on a group like Dylan’s friends. A singular thought had flashed through his mind that this would be a rather ingenious way to target people without them knowing.

“Hey,” he had asked around the table at the time. “Who is that kid with the cell phone taking pictures?”

One of the group had come back with a name: Clarence. “I don’t know him, but I think he’s in one of my classes.”

And then sure enough, a few days later the picture popped up on a bulletin board. Even though he was not the image’s subject, seeing his arm, shoulder and hip visible off to the side of the photograph was a sobering experience, one that would have bothered him greatly if it was him and some other kid kissing or sitting entwined together. Even knowing the day and time they had been photographed was scary when he recognized the scenery behind them. And he remembered Clarence.

Not three days later he was leaving a science lab when he thought he recognized the boy ahead of him, and he hurried to catch up. “Clarence,” he called, and the kid stopped and waited for him.

There was nothing unique about him. He was as tall as Dylan and slightly bulkier with spiky dark hair and brown eyes flecked with green. He had a curious look on his face because, not knowing the student who had hailed him by sight, he was eager to discover his business and get on with his day.

“I saw you near the cafeteria last week,” Dylan stated. “You were using your cell to snap pictures, and on that same day two friends of mine had their photo taken and and now it’s all over campus.”

Clarence threw him an apprehensive glance that he quickly covered up with a sneer.

“So what! I mean, I take lots of pictures. That doesn’t mean it was me catching your faggot friends in action.”

Dylan thought that was a very odd remark. He narrowed his eyes. Very odd indeed, especially considering that he’d said nothing about the subjects of the photos being gay. To be fair, Clarence might have guessed, but his response made Dylan at first suspicious and then bold.

“Are you the one who is harassing gay couples by taking pictures of them and posting them all over the school?”

Clarence stared at Dylan and grinned like this was the funniest joke in the world. “That would make me some kind of evil stalker, right? Some fucked up dude?”

“Are you admitting it?” Dylan asked, astonished.

“Lots of students take pictures all over campus,” Clarence said simplistically, trying to laugh it off. “You have no right to accuse me of anything and no proof. I’m no stalker, but I’ll tell you what. If I come across anyone else with a cell phone camera I’ll send them in your direction.”

Clarence had walked away with sort of a jittery laugh, but Dylan felt sure he was lying. What iced the deal was that the harassment ceased immediately thereafter, but it left a lot of the gay community at the university feeling paranoid.

“What happened to Clarence?” Luis asked, scratching his knee.

“Nothing,” Dylan said bitterly. “It was my word against his, and by the time someone took me seriously, the harassment had ceased and his camera memory card was wiped. Nobody could find any record that he’d mailed pictures or even kept a list of names. It really pissed me off because a lot of innocent people were hurt. Kids switched colleges or dropped out because of him.”

Dylan stared through the patio door for a few moments without speaking. “Then last week I found Jake’s yearbooks from his high school up north. Clarence’s picture was in the one from his senior year. It was a team photo of his baseball squad, and there he was, standing right behind Jake.”

Comprehension dawned on Sage’s face. “So you’re saying your Clarence is Jake’s Tony?” Dylan nodded.

“But why would you think Jake had anything to do with that mess?” Noah asked skeptically. “You heard him the evening we all got together drinking. Tony hates Jake for trying to kiss him. Jake said he hadn’t spoken to Tony since the party.”

Spencer, who had only heard some scattered rumors about the kissing incident, was catching on quickly but he was shocked. “You didn’t believe him? He’s your boy, Dylan. If you can’t trust your own boy…”

“I know,” Dylan said miserably, running his fingers through his pale hair. “I should’ve, but I panicked. All the ugly shit came back like it was yesterday. Then when Jake started saying Tony couldn’t be Clarence I got mad. He didn’t know where Tony was, and I thought he was lying… or hiding something. It looked like some kind of set-up between them, and I…”

”Fuck it, Dylan,” Noah interrupted angrily. “Do you know how Jake’s father found out he was gay?”

Dylan shook his head. “Jake just said he found out.” He was rather surprised because in all the time they had known each other, the subject never came up.

”Some anonymous student at Long Beach State emailed pictures of Jake kissing another boy.”

Dylan stared at Noah like he was a ghost as the words sunk in. He could see it happening like a movie in front of him.

“Pictures of your college friends sent to them and put up on notice boards,” Noah jeered. “Pictures of Jake mailed to his dad. Now you tell me why that sounds so similar.

”Only in Jake’s case, somebody already knew he had a homophobic father. Tony had a grudge against Jake, and what better way to pay him back than to send proof that his son was gay so he would be severely punished for it.”

Of course, that Clarence and Tony were the same person was as clear as day, but Jake had nothing to do with it except he was just as much of a victim as all the rest of the guys who had unwittingly been part of the harassment the previous year.

“It seems to me,” Sage hypothesized, “that this could have worked one of two ways. Either Jake was the target, and Tony took pictures of other couples to hide what he was doing, meaning the sender would have to be familiar enough with Jake to know he was at Long Beach, right? Or Tony got lucky when he snapped Jake and that other boy.”

“Oh shit!”

Noah shook his head. “You’re a real dumbass, Dylan. At the risk of saying ‘I told you so’, I knew this was all fucked up. Jake isn’t the kind of guy who would get off on hurting you. He’s in love with you and too decent to act so underhanded. You should’ve come to us last weekend, and we could have saved you all this trouble. Why didn’t you ask me?”

“I don’t know.”

Damn, he had really, really screwed this up. False accusations all over the place, intimidating Jake like a bully, refusing his apologies when Dylan was the one who should be begging forgiveness… If Jake even would speak to him again, it was doubtful he’d listen or try to understand. And forget taking him back. Dylan didn’t deserve Jake’s mercy. He didn’t deserve him. His boyfriend was so hurt and broken, and he’d done it to him on purpose.

Dylan was still sitting in a daze when he vaguely heard Noah’s cell phone ringing. There was a short conversation that quickly became more urgent, and then Noah hung up.

“Goddamn, Dylan,” Noah exclaimed sternly, tossing his cell on the table. “When you fuck things up, you really fuck things up.” Everyone looked at him inquiringly. “That was Marcus. Jake’s leaving Aleppo Park.”

“What?” They all talked at once. Dylan could only sit there, his eyes huge, wondering when the bluebird of happiness decided to shit all over him. Then he realized he’d done it to himself.

“Jake is moving in with his brother, David, who lives in Venice Beach. Maybe as early as late tomorrow afternoon.”

Sage began to cry again, and Dylan dropped his head in his hands and groaned.

Noah continued, looking straight at Dylan with a scowl. “As Marcus put it, Jake says he can’t stay here, because it’s your home now, not his. Everything reminds him of you, and he’s afraid of accidentally seeing you around town. I can’t say that I blame him either.”

“So what do we do?” Luis piped up. “Jake is a cool homey. He can’t leave.”

Spencer looked at Luis while keeping one eye on Dylan. “We can’t do anything. The only person who can is Dylan, and I’m not sure he’s going to pull it off.”

Dylan cleared his throat nervously. “I’ll talk to him.” Thinking about the ugly comment he’d made on Tuesday, he allowed, “I know why he’s so upset, and it’s all my fault. Even if I have to beg him, I’ll try to get him to change his mind.”

“I told Marcus I couldn’t speak freely and I’d call him later,” Noah added. “I plan to tell him about our talk. You know he isn’t going to be happy, Dylan.”

Dylan let himself smile grimly. “I don’t expect him to since he told me to leave Jake alone. But that’s not completely up to him. The only way I’m backing off is if Jake tells me to.”

“So, tomorrow morning?” Spencer asked, looking at all of them. “You’ll talk to him tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Dylan’s voice was low and guilty. Afraid… No, make that panicked. Everything rode on convincing Jake that he was sorry and was an asshole who didn’t deserve his love. Knowing he would probably never believe him nor forgive him, but he had to try. “Tomorrow.”

**

The Walkers and Jake were up early the next morning. Pat rounded the doorway into his bedroom where he was still collecting his gear.

“We’re going out for pancakes,” she hinted slyly, hoping he’d be encouraged to eat something substantial. “Blueberry.”

Jake smiled at her. “No thanks. I have too much to do.”

“Okay,” she teased gently, giving him a kiss and wishing again he wouldn’t leave. “You’re giving up some great pancakes.”

They left, and the house was so quiet. His cell phone rang, and the caller was Noah. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Not a whole lot, Jake, but I was wondering if we could come around in a little while.”

Jake got a suspicious feeling. “Come around?”

Noah sighed. “Look, okay, Marcus told us you’re going. We all… Sage, Spencer, Luis and me… we just want to say goodbye. Is that alright?”

Jake tried to relax his tense shoulders. He knew to be fair that he should give his farewells in person, wish them all his best, promise it wasn’t forever. Otherwise, everyone would feel badly. “Okay.”

Noah promised to be over in half an hour and hung up. Jake went back to his packing.

The doorbell rang, and he strolled downstairs, a packed box in hand that he left near the staircase. Nonchalantly he unlocked the front door and stood back to open it.

“Hello, Jake!”

Jake looked up at the familiar voice in shock. A big person blocked the sun. Actually, two big people. One of them grabbed his collar.

It was his father.

And Tony.

(To be continued...)

A Love Unexpected Ch. 19

Love All, Trust A Few, Do Wrong To None: William Shakespeare, Part 1



Four and a half weeks.

That was how long Jake calculated that he and Dylan were blissfully together in a love he had believed was binding and secure and would withstand the capricious tests life threw at people. Before it all fell down around his ears. Before Dylan moved through with the force of a hurricane and shredded him with accusations of being untrustworthy, playing him and telling lies. Lies about what?

Jake didn’t know where Dylan was going with his disagreement. Obviously this Clarence kid had been up to some kind of trouble on campus that seemed to involve him, and since he specifically said ‘the scams he’d created’, as in the multiple, other people must have been hurt by them too. Dylan acted like Jake should have known he was there, but why would he be interested in a stranger? He’d never heard the name Clarence mentioned at school, and they certainly didn’t share classes or live in the same dorm together. Yet, when he tried to defend himself logically, all it did was incite Dylan into making wild accusations.

“You are just as guilty as he is.”

“From my side, it looks like I’ve been played.”

“You said you love me, and fuck you, if this is a lie…”

Jake had always found that hard work helped to settle his mind, so he established himself to the task at hand which was sorting and repacking the boxes of belongings Marcus and Avery had helped him bring down from Madera. His cousin had returned to the patio and gingerly asked if he needed his help once the house emptied, but Jake just wanted to be alone with his thoughts. He heard Avery and Pat return from a morning of grocery shopping but he wasn’t hungry for the pizza they had purchased for lunch.

Jake looked sorrowfully at the box that Dylan had been going through before their fight. His four yearbooks stared at him almost in defiance. He picked up the haphazardly dumped annual Dylan had found Tony’s photo in and smoothed back the page showing the Wildcats varsity baseball team from his senior year. Tony’s grin stared back in him in challenge, and he felt fresh tears dot his eyelashes. How strange that such an innocuous thing as a memory book should lead to so much trouble. It was almost too much to deal with, and he certainly needed no reminders of his loss. Without another thought he picked up all four of his class yearbooks and threw them in the garbage can. Good riddance. He never wanted to see them again.

Dylan had torn away from the Walkers in a horrific mood, speeding and swerving in traffic until Erin threatened to report his maniacal driving to their father. She was shaking by the time she stepped out of his Honda and went directly inside, angry over being forced to come home because her brother was acting like an inconsiderate jerk. Ten minutes after he arrived, the doorbell rang, and there stood Noah and Sage.

“I don’t want to discuss it,” Dylan complained, running his hand through his blonde hair that was already sticking up all over the place. “This is none of anyone’s business but mine and Jake’s.”

“Not true,” Noah huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You, me, Marcus— we’ve been tight for almost four years. There for each other no matter what. You can’t honestly believe this isn’t going to affect the whole gang?”

“I really don’t give a shit how this affects the gang.” Dylan’s eyes spat fire. He would have shut the door if Noah’s foot hadn’t been in the way. “You might be my friends, but we’re talking about a problem with far more serious consequences than which of us is present when who does what where.”

“Then enlighten us,” Sage begged. “We were on Marcus’ patio listening to you scold Jake from start to finish, and to be honest, you weren’t making much sense. Who the hell is Clarence?”

Dylan’s lips drew into a thin line. “I don’t want to get into this now. Can you two just give me some goddamned space for a couple days? Just go, Noah, Sage, and I’ll call you when I calm down a little.”

As he watched them drive away he heard the song he’d assigned to Jake on his cell phone, Nickleback’s Don’t Ever Let It End, that indicated an incoming call. Grimacing, he considered the irony of the ringtone and pressed the ‘end’ button. Jake just didn’t know how to leave well enough alone. Enough had already been said between them, and all the emotions and words had done was reopen wounds from April that he’d thought had closed long ago. Damn him anyway.

Okay, deep breaths. Dylan tried to think past the red haze of anger that was clouding his judgment. Fact one, there was one boy, and he was almost certain it was only one, who went by two different names. Jake knew him as Tony Holcomb, but to Dylan he was Clarence. He’d only spoken to him once, but that had given him an up close and personal view that left no doubt that the photo in Jake’s yearbook was him. Fact two, while Jake had played dumb to his presence, Clarence or Tony… whoever, was definitely a Long Beach student because Dylan had seen him many times on campus. Dylan was willing to admit that he’d been a little hard on Jake. If they didn’t share classes and the other kid wasn’t in a dorm, he could be telling the truth. Fact three, why was Jake acting so cagey, or was he simply being defensive because of Dylan’s own behavior? Nobody liked being blamed falsely. And that led to the big question; was Jake as innocent as he said?

It wasn’t just Clarence’s harassment in the spring that made him angry, it was also the suggestion that someone would assist him in what looked like a predacious lark and find that kind of thing funny. For the umpteenth time he wondered if the kid had worked solo. This had always been his greatest fear. Could it be purely coincidence that two freshmen who knew each other in the same northern high school would be at Long Beach without being aware? One was a man he hated with a passion, and the other, Dylan loved with all his heart. One was a stalker, the other an innocent bystander; one was abusive, the other, his victim.

Or supposedly his victim… that was the sticking point causing Dylan’s chest to tighten in suspicion. What if it was a set-up? They really only had Jake’s word for what Tony had done to him—or even for his father’s abuse. However, Jake did have a legitimate reason for being in Aleppo Park and that was his relationship to the Walker clan. They were upstanding people, even Marcus, and Jake’s mother was Patricia’s sister. He would think they had checked his story about past abuse out to make sure it wasn’t a lie.

Inside, Dylan had to acknowledge that the Jake he knew wouldn’t lie over something like that. The pressure he was under was punishing, what with his parents’ marital woes, trying to please a boyfriend at the same time as keeping his family happy and dealing with the bigotry at work. Add in his father searching for him and making a secret trip north, and who wouldn’t feel like collapsing?

Hmm, could it be Jake’s own grace under pressure that upset Dylan? As worn out as he was, Jake had never entirely lost his cool the whole time Dylan was throwing rapid-fire questions at him. He had stayed composed even as he begged him to explain himself, and he was willing to stand there taking Dylan’s insults instead of snapping and over-reacting like his accuser did. The more stalwart and civil Jake behaved, the more it made Dylan feel small-minded and woefully inadequate. He knew he owed him an apology, and he could almost put himself in Jake’s place and feel bad for him.

But Dylan didn’t want to feel sorry for Jake. There was enough off about his protests that fed Dylan’s anger and made him choose to nitpick and feel petulant. He kept going back to the ‘what if’s, such as, what if a big reasons Jake was in Aleppo Park was to get back at him for challenging Clarence? He wanted to give in to the childish part of his nature that said someone should pay for the bad memories upsetting his equilibrium. He could be reasonable and declare that Jake had nothing to do with Clarence, how it was all a fluke, but that would mean admitting to having made a mistake and begging to be forgiven. Right now, he didn’t feel like eating humble pie. So he chose to stay angry and lock his mercy away and let Jake take the fall.

From her bedroom down the hall, Erin listened to her brother swear at the walls and kick furniture in his anger. Their parents had hurried up the stairs the first time he slammed his door, but Erin got to them first and told them that he and Jake had split up. Eyebrows up but nevertheless apprised, they quietly went back to their regularly scheduled programming.

Erin looked at the cell phone in her hand, wondering what to do. It wasn’t mature, but like many teenagers she got a small thrill in being the one to pass on bad news, and Kelsey did say she wanted to know if something important occurred. Finally she placed the call.

“What?” It was Kelsey’s usual terse greeting, but it didn’t put Erin off.

“You’ll never guess what happened,” Erin gushed, wrapping her arms around a tiger pillow to calm down.

Kelsey could hear Erin’s excitement vibrate through the airwaves and hoped this didn’t turn out to be a waste of time. “What?” she asked again.

“Dylan dumped Jake.”

It was good that Kelsey was sitting because this news was such a bombshell she would have fallen if she’d been on her feet. As it was she gave a little squeal and then had to cough to cover it. “How do you know this?”

Erin was overjoyed by the way Kelsey was in thrall to her news. Yes, she felt a little disloyal talking behind Dylan’s back and a lot guilty taking pride in Jake’s misfortune, but still… “I was there. Dylan saw a picture in one of Jake’s high school yearbooks and it made him mad. I think he recognized somebody from college, but Jake said it wasn’t him, and Dylan accused him of lying to him. So they had this big fight.”

Kelsey clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from breaking out in a riot of laughter. Stupid Jake Nielsen had gotten what he deserved. Still, hmm… This was a very fascinating story and one that could be exploited for additional insurance, so she made Erin retell it, top to bottom.

“Let’s see if I have this right,” she said when Erin finally quieted. “Dylan identified a kid from Jake’s school and said they go to the same college which Jake denied knowing about. He has two different names, so Dylan thinks Jake helped this boy do something bad?”

Erin confirmed the summary, and it wasn’t long before Kelsey was slowly enticing her to disclose every detail. Almost without Erin realizing it, the names came into the other girl’s possession, and Kelsey smiled in sinful triumph. She let Dylan’s sister rattle on for awhile in general gossip as a reward and skillfully doodled around the names until she signed off. Tony Holcomb, friend of Jake from Madera. And Clarence, also from up north. It was the best day Kelsey had had in a long time.

Jake wasn’t surprised when the call he placed to Dylan’s cell rang a few times and then went to voicemail. Jake was the last person Dylan wanted to hear from, but he left a message anyway asking for a call back. “I just want to talk to you and know we’re still okay, no matter what you said before.” He choked up, trying to get the words out, “I love you.” And then for good measure he sent a text message making the same request.

Jake worked through the day, spending extra time on the mindless task of thoroughly arranging his baseball cards. First according to worth and then by player for the less valuable, it took up a sizeable chunk of the day. He was still working when Pat came out at six saying dinner was ready. He merely shook his head to indicate he wasn’t hungry.

His aunt folded him into the warmth of her soft body, and he let her hug him tightly. “Marcus told us about Dylan. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but keep your chin up, Jake. It will work out the way it was meant.”

Meant. Jake pondered the word. How was it meant for him to be blindsided by some baseball photograph in a yearbook? A kid who hated him in high school mysteriously turned up at his college to become Dylan’s boogieman and causing mischief for which he’d been blamed and now it had robbed him of the man he loved? He shook his head wearily and stepped back.

“No, Aunt Pat. Whatever was meant surely shouldn’t hurt this bad.”

She sighed and rubbed his arm. “I know it doesn’t look like it now, but it will get better. Let me know if you need anything.”

He nodded, looking out over the back fence down into the deep canyons that ran behind the edge of the community. He remembered being a kid and camping in this back yard with Marcus and Noah, all of them tingling with anticipation over the possibility of seeing the variety of wildlife that came out at night. Coyotes yipped from the hills around them, snakes slithered trails in the dust and an occasional skunk left his fragrant calling card nearby. There were even rumors of bobcats.

But childhood was far behind him, and Jake was now feeling what it was like to be an adult whose heart was breaking. How could Dylan do this to him?

Love was supposed to be about trust. Maybe it was asking too much to expect him to suspend disbelief over the alternate names, but at least give his side of the story a chance and let him defend himself without interruption. Stop hurling false allegations at him when he didn’t even know what he was protecting himself from. Understand that he’d had a rotten week that abruptly became impossibly disastrous under his verbal attack.

Jake was sitting on the patio and staring into the dark at his newly stacked boxes against the wall. He was surprised it was only nine p.m. The back door opened, and it was Marcus holding a plate of food: cheese enchiladas which was one of his favorites, a large helping of Mexican rice and a side of homemade corn and tomato salsa. “Do you want some company,” the older boy asked, setting down the dish on the table next to him.

Jake realized that Pat probably made this dinner specifically for him to help cheer him up, but he had no appetite. When Marcus lowered himself into the chair across from him, he almost didn’t register his presence. Respectfully, Marc waited for Jake to say something, but for a long while he didn’t.

“I don’t know what Dylan requires from me,” he began softly, refusing to look at him and pushing the food to the other side of the table because, even in the outside air, the scent of it was making him sick to his stomach. “He comes over and wants to look at my yearbook, and the next thing I know, he’s screaming at me about Tony having a different name and why isn’t he in the dorm? Hell if I know, but how come it’s important?”

“I don’t know, Jake,” Marcus said slowly. “This is really fucked up. It’s like damned if you do and damned if you don’t.”

Jake nodded. “That’s how I felt the whole time he was talking to me. There were plenty of wrong answers but no right ones because all he wanted was for me to admit I knew that Clarence kid. At least tell me what he was supposed to have done, and I’ll tell you if I think Tony is capable of it.”

“What are you going to do?” Marcus had one of his rare serious faces on, like he was genuinely worried for him. Jake looked terrible— he was pale and shaky with a pinched look between his eyes that he got when he was under a lot of duress. It was a look Jake hadn’t worn since the first couple of days after his arrival in Aleppo Park, and now in a few short hours, Dylan had put it back on his face. Marcus was so angry on his behalf that if Dylan had been standing in front of him, he wouldn’t know if he could refrain from hitting him.

“I don’t know,” Jake shrugged, his voice so low he could barely be heard over the crickets. “Keep packing my stuff. Finish day camp next week. Go back to school in a month.”

“I mean about Dylan…”

Jake scrubbed his face with his hand. “I know what you meant, Marc. I can’t tell you because it’s up to him. I sent him text messages today and called twice. The second time his cell phone was turned off. Maybe he just has to cool down, but this isn’t a problem that will be fixed overnight, even if he forgives me.”

Marcus startled in irritation. “You don’t need forgiving. It’s him that’s in the wrong here.”

Jake knew this, but he doubted Dylan would see it that way. He simply dropped his head in his hands and struggled not to cry. He’d been in tears most of the day, and his eyeballs felt like sandpaper.

Marcus stood up and put out his hand. “Come on, Jake. You need to get to bed, and I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer. Maybe you’ll feel better in the morning.”

Jake was all set to argue but decided it wasn’t worth it. Marcus was right; he needed sleep. He let him drag him upstairs and push him into the bathroom to pee and brush his teeth. Then he sat passively on his bed, feeling deep fatigue aching in his very bones, while Marcus threw his sandals in the corner, yanked off his t-shirt and slipped his jeans over his feet. “You’re responsible for the rest if you sleep in the nude, bro.” Marcus cracked a small smile.

Jake had to grin a little too. “Thanks, Marc.”

Marcus waved his welcome as he walked out the door, and Jake pulled back the covers and slipped into bed.

A few minutes later, Pat sighed tiredly, turning off downstairs lamps as she headed to bed. She noted that one of the boys had accidentally left the outside lights on, and when she stepped over to the switch next to the glass patio door she saw the untouched plate of food she prepared for Jake on the picnic table.

The night was dark and quiet when she stepped out. But what was this? Near the top of the open, square garbage container resting on what appeared to be discarded school papers and covered with styrofoam packing peanuts, more papers and several magazines sat four pristine high school yearbooks.

“Oh, Jacobaby,” she sighed, feeling his hurt. It killed her to see Jake so beaten down. From what her son had said, Dylan had really laid into him with a bunch of ridiculous assumptions. She knew it wasn’t any of her business, but she wanted to march down to the Moore house and grab him by the ear and lock the two of them in a room until they hashed their problems out. Knowing how crazy in love Jake was with him, it frightened her to think how he would handle the situation if Dylan made the break permanent. Her nephew had dealt with so much disappointment in his life so far.

Carefully Patricia lifted the books out of the trash, grabbed up a cardboard box that was the right size and filled it with them. Then she took the box indoors and set it on the shelf of the hall closet, hoping he’d want the books again someday.

Two hours after that, the house quieted around Jake and all he could hear was an owl land in the ash tree in the back yard. He had yet to fall asleep, the events of the day making his head hurt and his eyes hot and gritty.

Why couldn’t you take a moment in time when you were completely happy and seal it in glass so it would never change? He had never realized love could hurt so badly, but he felt the pain of his loss slicing through him like shards of glass. His chest was constricted, almost crushed by the surge of loneliness for a man who was shutting him out of his life with each erased text message and unanswered cell phone call. He ached to reach out and find a way to make Dylan listen to him, to believe him. He didn't know what he would do if he wouldn't.

Dylan’s words came back…

“You are just as guilty as he is.”

“From my side, it looks like I’ve been played.”

“You said you love me, and fuck you, if this is a lie…”

But I’m not lying, Jake whispered to himself, tears dripping down his face again. I swear I’m not.

**

The last time Jake had looked at the clock on the bedside table was four a.m. but he knew he’d tossed and turned all night. Now it was 8:30 on Sunday morning and he rolled out of bed eager to start his day until he remembered. He had no place to go and no boyfriend to spend it with. He felt like hell and probably looked just as bad.

Curious as to whether twenty hours would make Dylan’s heart grow fonder, he dialed his telephone number.

“Hello?” came the grouchy voice on the other end, one that signified he had probably awakened him.

“Dylan?” he asked hopefully. There was no answer, just a gasp, and then the ‘call ended’ memo showed up on the screen. Well, so much for that idea and the hope of forgiveness.

Jake hopped in the shower, thinking it would make him feel better, and soon after he was back on the patio working on his mess. Now that the first day was behind him, he could say his emotions were more on keel. Not quite so fragile, he was able to reflect more in depth. He definitely didn’t want to do much profound thinking about Dylan because it still made his eyes sting and overflow with salt water. That would probably be true for awhile. Otherwise, he believed he could keep his exhaustion at bay by staying busy. Three nights in a row with little sleep was hell on a body.

As far-fetched as it had sounded the day before, Jake found proof that Tony was at Long Beach State. This didn’t seem possible; the kid Jake remembered from high school was a mediocre student at best and probably didn’t have the grades to interest a university. Maybe that was why he hadn’t thought of it. But Jake recalled how he had just sorted through his small box of graduation mementos shortly before his friends arrived. When he went back and opened up the commencement program now, there it was—Clarence Anthony Holcomb. In three years of attending school together, Jake didn’t know how the fact that Tony went by his middle name had slipped past him. Equally mysterious was why he would revert to using his first one at college. I mean, it almost seemed as if his former classmate was purposely hiding from him.

He was nearly finished with the repacking when Marcus made his way outside. “I’m going to hang with Erin today. Do you want to come with us?”

Jake shot him a mock-scathing look. “First off, I do not wish to be the third wheel on your date with Erin. Second, I’m not going anywhere near Dylan’s house. He hung up on me this morning.”

Marcus glowered. “What did he say?”

“Nothing. I think he answered it accidentally and once he realized it was me he ended the call as fast as possible. But it proves he isn’t in a mood to set things straight between us yet. So no, I don’t want to go out with you and Erin. All I ask is that you don’t get in Dylan’s face and don’t let him bait you into arguing with him.”

Marcus looked at the pale, shaky boy with the hollow eyes, weariness written all over his face as he struggled for calm, and what could he say? As much as he wanted to leave Dylan bleeding in a gutter somewhere, he knew Jake didn’t need more drama. At his wit’s end, he couldn’t handle one single new conflict.

“Okay,” Marcus agreed. “I’m solid, no fighting.”

A short while earlier and now wide awake, Dylan was angry at himself. His ringing cell phone had roused him from sleep, and through force of habit, he had begun to smile when he accepted the call from Jake. Then his memory kicked in of the day before. He heard his ex’s happy cry of ‘Dylan’ and ended the call immediately. He hadn’t paid much attention to his cell phone the night before other than to silence the beeps alerting him of incoming messages, and now he noticed that Jake had texted twenty times since the day before and left five voicemails. He deleted all of them without another thought.

He took a shower, and when he opened the bathroom door, Erin was waiting to get inside. Dragging her make-up and a hair dryer with her, the difference in her routine showed she was getting ready for something special. “Marcus is taking me to the early matinee and then to lunch,” she told him when he asked.

Dylan groaned in defeat. The last person he wanted at the house was Marcus Walker.

“Too bad, so sad,” Erin protested at his grumbling. “Just because you dumped Jake doesn’t mean my life ends too.”

Dylan was about to announce that he didn’t dump Jake when he was caught up short, realizing he had. He rubbed his eyes tiredly at the thought of what was coming. Yeah, there would be raised voices and Marcus would most likely want to punch him in the face on his cousin’s behalf. He didn’t feel up to defending himself. The farther away he got from yesterday’s argument with Jake, the weaker his position seemed but he wasn’t about to admit it.

Typical of his sister, Erin wasn’t ready to leave when her date showed up in his mustang, and Dylan had to answer the front door. “Marcus,” he greeted with a somber nod. There were no bumped knuckles or slapped backs.

“Dylan,” the other boy returned stoic-like, eyes raking the scowling face. They might as well have been strangers.

“Erin will be down momentarily,” Mrs. Moore called from the kitchen where she was up to her elbows cleaning the oven.

Awkwardly they stood on either side of the front door, silent. Dylan was loath to invite him in, especially because he could see Marcus was barely hanging back from speaking his mind. The tension built until he thought he was going to rupture.

“Has Jake come to his senses yet?” Dylan finally bust out in irritation.

“Come to his senses?” Marcus stared at him, incredulous, and then chuckled darkly. “Probably not in the way you mean. I think he’s asking himself what he ever saw in a loser like you.”

“Loser, huh? I’m not the one…”

“Shove it, Dylan. I promised Jake I wouldn’t fight his battles for him.” He looked up hearing noise at the top of the Moore’s staircase, seeing Erin checking through her purse, and he lowered his voice. “I’ll say this much, though. Jake is in the worst shape I’ve ever seen him, and that is all on you. Not even a beating from his dad broke him like you did.”

Dylan winced and looked at his feet. Luckily for him, Erin swept by him with a sweet smile only for Marcus, and they hurried away. Dylan hastily grabbed his car keys. He didn’t know where he was going but he had to get out of the house.

He drove for a couple of hours before ending up at San Onofre State Beach around late morning. Sitting on the bluff in the parking lot overlooking the ocean, he searched himself and tried to make some sense of his thoughts. Dylan had let his emotions drift the day before, but today they needed to be faced. He rewound his inner recording device to the argument, and what he remembered made him feel really awful. He saw Jake’s disorientation and misery and knew he was the reason why.

Shit, he had been so insensitive to the younger boy. Sage and Noah were right. He had lit into Jake and never let up once, not even when he begged him for a chance to catch his breath. It was Dylan who kept throwing out vicious barbs and accusing him of… why did he even do that? Even his little sister had recognized that he was coming on far too strong, but he didn’t listen to her either. He just kept pushing Jake until he nearly had him in tears, and when common sense began to creep back in to tell him to shut the hell up he didn’t listen. He just walked out like Jake meant nothing to him.

What did he feel for Jake? Dylan still loved him, of that he was sure, but it was as if they were being pulled in different directions and smothered by the weight of his guilt. Was there any coming back from that kind of treatment? Even if he got down on his knees and apologized to Jake, he didn’t think so. To be called a liar, a player and evasive was the worst kind of hurt, but there was nothing to back up his claims. Truthfully, Jake wasn’t any of those things. Could anything be salvaged from their relationship? Dylan’s heart told him that his baby was everything to him, but after the day before it no longer seemed like enough to keep them together… which was his own fault.

How could he help Jake understand the chaos Clarence had caused without hurting him? There was still a part of him that feared Jake wasn’t all he claimed, and the only way to make certain was by asking more probing questions. It all boiled down to whether his father had abused him the way Jake said, like if that was the truth, it would make the story about Tony true too. But opening up the inquiries again would be adding insult to injury, tantamount to confessing that he didn’t trust him, and wasn’t that what love was about?

Nobody ever said it was easy, but why did he have to make it so much harder on the two of them by running off at the mouth when he didn’t have a clue what he was talking about? Like a train wreck that just keeps going, one car banging into the other all the way down the track, he still wasn’t even done with his stupidity. He knew his retort to Marcus about Jake coming to his senses was going to get back to him, and it was going to twist the knife even deeper into the wound. Maybe, deep down, he wasn’t worthy of Jake.

At the Walkers, Jake was thinking the same thing. His boxes were repacked, and Avery had promised that if he was willing to leave them on the patio for a day or two, he’d try to find a place in the garage for them. Jake knew at some point he was probably going to have to rent a small storage unit on a permanent basis. His lodging for the upcoming school year was now in flux with Dylan out of the picture. They had planned to get a small studio or one bedroom apartment together, but under the circumstances, Jake couldn’t see living with him even if they did make up.

His boyfriend’s behavior only went to prove how flaky love was and why he shouldn’t be so trusting. If Dylan supposed that Jake had faked his love and lied about the way his father and Tony had treated him, what did that say about the sincerity of his affection? How could Dylan profess love but have such shallow feelings for him? Not believe him?

Jake was so hurt that he hadn’t trusted him, but a day apart from the first trauma, he was becoming angry, both at his ex-boyfriend and at himself. How naïve to think somebody would care that much for him. It was blind stupidity to believe in the fairytale that love covered a multitude of sins. Ha! Love wouldn’t even let Dylan listen to him without shouting him down and making the facts fit his fiction. Another one of life’s shitty examples learned painfully.

**

Jake was surprised when his alarm went off the next morning indicating that the weekend had slid into a new week. He dragged himself from bed, unprepared to spend the day at the rec center and the chance of running into Dylan. It was the closing week at the day camp, and he wished like anything he could have called in sick. But two of the other assistants were only at half-status; Evan had sliced open the palm of his hand in a home accident, and Whitley was hobbling around with a groin injury. It just wouldn’t be right to skip work to feel sorry for himself, and so he showered under cold water hoping it would wake him up and nearly burned his tongue on two cups of scalding coffee for the caffeine boost. He had yet to get a decent night’s sleep.

Over the past two weeks Jake had gotten used to sharing rides with Dylan. That, of course, was not going to happen today, and Jake waited until he could put it off no longer before leaving the house. He planned to show up at day camp at the last minute to avoid seeing him, and sure enough, Dylan’s Honda was already in the lot. He parked his truck on the other side and hurried to the baseball diamond.

Coach Abel gave him a speculative glance upon his arrival, and Chance asked if he felt okay. Jake was sure he looked as bad as he felt, washed out and dragging, but he smiled grimly and said he’d be fine. They put the boys through their paces, and even the children seemed to sense he wasn’t quite with it. But what could he do? He let his mind drift as he tossed balls back and forth and automatically corrected batting stances and base positions.

He was getting ready to break for lunch when the coach sidled up to him. “You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, Jake,” the man ventured in a friendly fashion. “Is there anything I can do?”

Jake gave him a warm smile because he seemed sincere. “No thanks, Coach, just some bad news from home.” It wasn’t a complete falsehood. “I’m dealing with it.”

Abel clasped his shoulder. “Okay, but don’t be afraid to ask for help if you need it.”

“Thanks,” he said in a bewildered tone. Would wonders never cease?

Jake rushed off to the parking lot to get away before Dylan showed up. He headed for a small taco shop in the opposite direction the two of them usually traveled for meals and ordered a soda and a single fish taco which was all his stomach felt it could handle. Choosing an anonymous small table under the awning on the sidewalk he reflected how this was the first minute he’d been alone since awakening on Saturday. He stared out at the noon hour traffic and sighed.

He missed Dylan. He was nearly positive that the older boy wasn’t reading his texts or listening to his voicemails. It was like he no longer cared. Two days, and Jake thought his world was falling apart. Two days, and he bet Dylan was carrying on, life as usual. Jake hadn’t made Dylan feel small and insignificant by ambushing him from all sides until his head was spinning and then just dumping him. It sucked.

Careful, that hint of longing was usually enough to start the tears flowing. His eyes burned fiercely, but being out in public let him keep the waterworks at bay. He could feel his depression deepening but anger was as good as an open venue to push it back. Dylan had treated him badly and he was going to focus on that and not the gigantic hurt that soared through him.

The most important thing at this point was to find out the truth. Jake was morbidly curious over what Tony had done, why he changed his name for college and what it was about his behavior that made Dylan blame Jake just for knowing him. He halfway recognized that Dylan was scared, and he hoped the facts would soon come to light to make him see that Jake had nothing to do with anything. Even if they didn’t give him his boyfriend back, Jake had to let go of his anger over Dylan’s stubbornness. He wished he believed in crossing his fingers, but fate had been a bitch lately.

That afternoon, Jake found himself on the cement path wending from the ball fields past the large swim complex and leading to the lot where his truck was parked. As he passed the pool, he felt inexplicably drawn to the spot outside the staff showers where he used to wait for Dylan to finish lifeguarding. He heard shouts and, looking up, there was Dylan’s tanned, muscular back and shoulders framed against the canvas of the tall lifeguard chair at the edge of the pool, his white-blonde hair shining in the sun. Just for a brief moment he allowed himself to watch him in secret as he blew his whistle at a group of rowdy boys who were recklessly shoving each other into surrounding swimmers. Jake turned miserably away, nearly running around the corner of the building to his Ranger in the parking lot and home.

“Whoa, dude.” One of the off-duty guards leaned against the ladder of Dylan’s stand, gazing up at him through dark shades, his nose coated in Badger Balm to ward off sunburn. “What’s the matter with you, today? You’re whistling everyone.”

Kids screaming noisily and splashing too much water at each other or roughhousing or dangerously running around the perimeter, Dylan blew his whistle over and over again. As a matter of principal, he was known as one of the more laidback lifeguards, but today the kids were especially bothersome and he didn’t care if they hated him.

“It’s nothing. That group of boys in the corner,” he indicated with a lift of his chin. “They won’t stop pushing people in.”

The beefy lifeguard laughed. “Yeah well, that’s part of the attraction of a pool. Say, are you working the rest of the summer?” Day camp ended on Friday, but some of the swimming teachers were manning the pools until college resumed.

Dylan shook his head. “No, I need some time off, but I put my name in just in case somebody gets sick.”

He was rethinking this decision. Dylan had assumed that he’d be spending a lot of time with Jake after their jobs ended. There was a little over three weeks left of summer vacation, plenty of time to surf and make love and see films and make love and play video games and make love. Now, all had changed, and those three weeks stretched out interminably before him. Noah had been right on Sunday; breaking up with Jake affected not only himself, but everyone else he used to call best friend. He had already lost Marcus over this, and he wasn’t sure the rest of the crew wasn’t right behind.

It wasn’t that Dylan was jealous, but Jake had quickly made inroads with his and Marcus’ friends. He was an adventurous and awesome surfer, always laughing and fun to be around with a good head on his shoulders. He didn’t take offense if his plans were shot down because somebody else came up with a better idea, and he had even handled the hassle with Kelsey with diplomacy. These were traits he cherished in him, and now they slapped him in the face because, in the eyes of his friends, Jake was a victim and he was the bully. Jake was also open and honest, and somehow that left a sour taste in his mouth. He had chosen to overlook the best part of him on Saturday when they were fighting, and it was going to cost him.

Dylan felt eyes on his back. It wasn’t unusual because in the pool everyone either respected or feared the lifeguards, and with his lofty seat, nobody could miss him. He twisted his head but nobody was there. He caught a flash of a tanned male leg below cargo shorts turning the corner on the other side of the pool fence. Shrugging, he went back to work.

It was well after midnight and Jake had been sound asleep for maybe forty minutes when a bolt of panic brought him wide awake and sitting up in bed. He knew what it was that scared the daylights out of him; it was the feeling his life was falling apart and he would end up alone. He would never wear the label of wuss, but having Dylan by his side had made him feel nearly invincible, like he could fight off anything, even his father’s bigotry. Without him, he was just Jake.

As much as he chose to deny his feelings, he was in love with Dylan, and not just a shallow, adolescent crush type of love either. He was frantically in love, his passion so hot that to consider being apart from him was like death. Jake felt the fabric of his life shredding in agony, ripping his guts out to realize Dylan was no longer a part of it… and no longer wanted to be.

**

Jake sighed as the screen on his cell phone told him that his call had ended. Again. Dylan never answered his phone anyway. Just as he was certain that his voicemails and text messages were probably being disposed of, unchecked. It felt like the older boy was playing games, but to Jake it was deadly serious. It was now Tuesday, and they were no closer to finding a common ground. He was nearly ready to resort to begging.

The morning at day camp went well enough and he had spent a few minutes shooting the breeze with the other baseball assistants before heading out for lunch. He was just getting the driver’s door of his truck unlocked when Dylan emerged from the path leading to the pool and sauntered towards his CR-V.

Jake, who hadn’t laid eyes on his boyfriend… well, ex-boyfriend, since their argument three days before, could only stare in longing across the sixty yards separating them. He knew he should get the hell out of there. Pretend not to notice or care— just get in his Ranger and drive away. Do anything but be caught gawking at the man he loved and missed with all his heart. But it was like he was anchored to the ground.

He looked good, Jake thought, but then this was Dylan. He never had a bad hair day in his life. It wasn’t like his whole world was fucked up by false accusations and questions he couldn’t answer. Then Dylan lifted his head and saw him.

For a microsecond their eyes met, and Dylan’s lit up in cerulean warmth that rivaled the sun. A smile had just begun to tug at his lips when he seemed to realize it was Jake he was looking at. Instantly he shut down, his face impassive as the blacktop they stood on. His bearing went stiff and cold, and his hands curled into fists like he wanted to punch him.

“Take a picture, Jake, it will last longer.”

Jake turned beet red. Still rooted in place, the only part of his body seemingly able to move were his eyes, and he shifted his gaze down to the loose gravel, odd bits of food wrapper and a flattened Starbucks cup littering the ground. Just as paralyzed was his voice, but he wouldn’t have been able to come up with anything intelligent to say anyway. His brain was mush, and he couldn’t recall a recent time in his life where he’d been so mortified.

He heard Dylan climb into his red SUV and roar away, and that seemed to give impetus to Jake’s feet. But he didn’t go to his truck. He stumbled across the asphalt, slipped through the shrubbery on the far end that separated the center from the municipal park and found their secret picnic spot. His body dropped onto the springy lawn, and he made himself part of the silence, Dylan’s ugly words bouncing around his head like a pinball machine.

It was time to face hard, painful facts. Dylan didn’t love him anymore. In fact, going by what he’d just witnessed, Jake was fairly certain he hated him. However you wanted to label it, Dylan had moved to a place that was beyond his reach. The venom spewing out of his former boyfriend’s mouth wasn’t from a man who would be willing to logically discuss Saturday and work towards an amicable resolution. It wasn’t even that of a man who would allow Jake to crawl to him on hands and knees and beg for Dylan to forgive him and take him back. It was the language of someone who never wanted to lay eyes on him again.

Jake could feel his very essence drying up and turning into a piece of frozen granite at the thought of losing Dylan forever. He knew it was unmanly, but when the tears began to spill down his cheeks, he allowed himself to cry for all the memories. His first vision of Dylan on the side of the Moore’s pool that May night with those electric blue eyes edged in silver and luscious lips so right for kissing. Surfing the breaks several times a week as they became friends, their good-natured rivalry over who was better on their sticks, and the bright early-June morning when Dylan had saved him from drowning.

How frightened Jake had been to come out to Dylan and the rapture a week later when the other boy had announced that he, too, was gay; they had immediately fallen for each other. Their first date had been here in this exact spot with falling leaves and jokes over pickles when Dylan leaned in a kissed him softly, and how unique he tasted. Italian dinners and kisses up against the truck, movie dates and holding hands, swinging on the playground. Learning to let go at Dylan’s house and shattering his inhibitions with hot sex in the pool showers.

Jake could almost feel Dylan’s lips on his, sucking softly at his tongue, and yearning stabbed at him. That long neck with all those soft spots perfect for nibbling on as he raised gentle bruises to mark him as his own. The silky skin he would trace with his fingers, the planes and grooves of his well-developed pectorals and abdominals. His adorable nipples he liked to suck and bite. Bodies sliding together, skin to skin, each part meshing with its counterpart. Even here in the quiet park, he could still feel the teasing way their cocks had slipped together side by side in the shower as they tumbled towards rapture, and it made his quickly growing erection tent his shorts. He ached with desire.

Could it be that only ten days ago Dylan was in his arms at the cabin, and they were writhing on the floor in front of a stone fireplace in the throes of orgasm? An even more tender thought came to him of snuggling under the quilt on the porch swing as they exchanged vows of love and forever in the midst of a thunderstorm? The boy was his, and it felt right, like the puzzle of his life was suddenly solved and Dylan was the missing piece.

Something evil had come along to shake the box without putting the lid on because now the pieces were scattered and lost. Just like Dylan’s love for him.

Jake furiously wiped at his eyes as another bleak notion came back to him. He’d once made a promise to his cousin that if he and Dylan ever began fighting and split up, he wouldn’t want to come between friends. Unfortunately, that was exactly what he’d done, although not intentionally. However, the thought of breaking up Marcus’ crew felt like a shot of icy water in his veins. These guys—all of them, had been fast friends for years, and who was he, a newcomer who only had the designation of being part of Marcus’ family, to move in and bring them trouble? It would be wrong of him not to go to his cousin and plead with him to forgive Dylan. It would be wrong for Jake to stay in Aleppo Park.

Adam and David, his older brothers, had both offered him a temporary place to live until he went back to college. The last day of the final session of camp was in two days. On Friday, the permanent recreation staff was hosting a catered luncheon for the assistants after their last morning meeting. It wasn’t mandatory, and Jake probably wouldn’t go because he couldn’t bear facing Dylan, especially not after today. With three weeks left before he reported back to Long Beach State, getting out of town and away from the stress of conceivably running into him would help tremendously. He would just have to learn to mask his emotions if he accidentally met up with Dylan at school. His broken heart would heal. Time heals all wounds, right?

Jake considered another option, a peace offering as such, but he didn’t have time to sit and ruminate. Lunch was almost over, and he ran for his truck. He always kept a spiral notebook or two stashed under the seat, and he thoughtfully penned a short letter. Now, where to put it, and again the answer came.

Jake hustled through cleanup after the day campers left that afternoon, storing bases and balls with a zeal that surprised the coach and the rest of the assistants who had gotten used to two days of his sluggish lack of enthusiasm and going through the motions. But Jake was in a hurry to get finished without running the risk of another encounter with Dylan, and when the last bat was in the cart he sped away with the barest of goodbyes.

At lunch, Jake had remembered that his staff locker in the pool house was still loaded with his gear and should be emptied. Positive that there would be no more sexy showers for the two of them after Dylan’s lifeguarding shifts, he had no intention of ever using the facilities again. He headed for the locker room and lost no time in cleaning out the space. He shoved clothing, both clean and dirty, towels and grooming products into a large sports bag.

There in the far back of the locker where he remembered stowing them were the nylon shorts Dylan had let him borrow one afternoon when his only pair of clean cargoes had slid off the shower bench and gotten soaked. Pulling them forward, he shook out the wrinkles and folded them into a nice, neat square. Into the pocket he slipped his note before setting them down in front of Dylan’s locker. Quickly, he removed his combination lock from the locker door with shaking hands before walking away without a backwards glance. He was doing the right thing. The only possible thing.

(To be continued...)

A Love Unexpected Ch. 18

That Damned Yearbook



Trouble was awaiting Jake when he arrived home that evening. His mother had called and said she needed to speak to Jake immediately. Worried, he phoned her back.

“Hi, honey,” Carolyn greeted him after the second ring. “I heard you were gone for the weekend.”

Jake told her a little about his Big Bear trip, leaving out the parts about being alone with Dylan which he wasn’t sure she’d be receptive to. “So, Mom, what’s wrong?”

Apparently, a lot. His father, George, had gotten it into his head that the reason his mom wanted a divorce was because of Jake, and the last time she had been at the house retrieving her stuff, he was spouting all sorts of nonsense about how his lifestyle was infecting the family.

“I’m really worried, Jake. He was calming down for awhile, but now he’ gone off on another one of his tangents. He says that you only have a month until you go back to college in Long Beach, and he’ll be able to track you down there. Maybe you should protect yourself and file a restraining order.”

“I can’t,” he retorted, frustrated by this new information. “If I do, Dad has to be notified, and then he’ll know where I am. I’d rather wait to go back to school when my location isn’t a secret.”

“Then promise me you’ll be extra careful. Have you been in contact with anyone from around here?”

He told her no, that he wasn’t friends with anyone from West Madera High, and nobody knew his whereabouts. Still, even though she was reassured, he sensed something else was wrong.

“I hate to say this,” Carolyn finally relented, “because I don’t know what you can do about it. Dad says he will not store any of the stuff you left in your bedroom. I don’t have room in my apartment for it, and he’s threatening to throw it away.”

This was bad. Going to college and leaving his bedroom ‘as is’, Jake thought it would be waiting for him when he went home for the summer. He had memorabilia he treasured- baseball and wrestling trophies, photo albums, a baseball signed by Tim Lincecum of the San Francisco Giants, his baseball trading card collection, and his high school yearbooks from all four years. He didn’t want to lose any of it, and his father was just mean enough to carry through on his threats.

Even though he was upset over losing his possessions, Jake thanked his mother for the information she’d given him and trying to help him out. Like her, he wasn’t sure what to do, but he told her he would let her know.

Jake had been home for an hour when Marcus showed up after spending the evening with Noah. “Did you have a good time,” he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. “Or didn’t you get some this weekend?”

Jake, already in a bad mood from his conversation with his mom, had a sudden urge to knock him upside the head. “Shut up, Marcus,” he snapped. “At least I’m dating someone who isn’t underage, so if I can ‘get some’, it will be without going to jail or pissing off my best friend because he’s her brother.”

“Whoa, dude.” Marcus took two steps forward and grabbed Jake’s arm to spin him around. “That was totally uncalled for.”

“Well, so is your attitude, Marc,” Jake spat. “You are the one who told me it was okay with you if I dated Dylan, but since then you have done everything you can to make it hard on me. Pouting like a child, spying on us, punishing me because I don’t hang out enough with you. So I finally get to spend some time with him, and all you can do is make rude jokes.”

Marcus looked at Jake and saw the hurt in his face. This was his cousin, his favorite cousin who was like the best of brothers to him. He was a levelheaded guy who seldom spouted off in anger unless pushed to the wall. What Jake had said about him was completely true. He’d been behaving like an ass.

“Jesus, I’m sorry, Jake. I guess I have been a little insensitive.”

Jake allowed himself a small smile. “Only a little, huh?”

Marcus punched him in the arm. “I don’t want you to get a swollen head.”

At that moment, Pat came out of the kitchen and asked Jake what his telephone call from his mother was about. In short order he told her about his father’s new threats, both in seeking him out and in disposing of his belongings.

“I have no idea what to do. Mom says she doesn’t have enough room for more than a small box or two. That would cover my baseball cards and no more.”

Marcus gave him a thoughtful look but said nothing, and soon the family went to bed.

The next day Jake began his last two-week stint as a day camp assistant. Even though he’d socked away most of his paychecks, and it was good pay at that, he couldn’t wait to be done. He had to report to college the fourth week of August, so he’d have less than a month to find a place to live, hopefully with Dylan, near school. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he was a little frightened by his father’s intimidation.

On Tuesday afternoon he returned from camp to find Marcus just getting out of the shower. Looking around as if expecting someone to be listening, he beckoned to Jake. “I need to talk to you after dinner. It’s important.”

Avery walked out on the patio later that evening to find Jake and Marcus huddled around the table whispering. They were so engrossed in their conversation they didn’t even realize he was there.

“No,” Jake said quietly. “We have to leave no later than 3:30 a.m. Traffic through Los Angeles will be bad even at that hour, and it’s going to take us at least five and a half hours to drive to Madera. I’d like to arrive right after Dad leaves for work to give us the most time to pack.”

”But Jake,” Marcus protested. “If we’re going to drive up and back on the same day, plus load up your bedroom, that will be grueling. Twelve hours up and back in driving time alone, it’s going to kill us.”

“Not if we switch off driving. We can take turns, and while one of us is at the wheel, the other can be sleeping.”

At that point, Avery cleared his throat, and the boys looked up in alarm. “Neither of you is going to Madera,” he announced, and Jake’s face took on a defiant cast while Marcus turned red at being caught in what felt a whole lot like misbehavior. “At least, not without me.”

Marcus looked at his father, shocked. “You’ll go up with us?”

”No, I’m driving you two up,” the man corrected. “We can take my pick-up which has more room for Jake’s stuff. That man has stolen enough of his life without Jake giving up his belongings too, but I don’t want him stepping foot in Madera without me there. If Uncle George somehow finds out he’s come home and tries to stop him from leaving, Jake will need more than you to defend him, Marcus. This is the safest way, and three sets of hands can make faster work than two.”

Jake gazed at his uncle in awe. Every time he thought Avery and Pat had done enough for him they found a new way to show their support. “Thanks, Uncle Avery,” he said, humbled. “So what time do you think we should leave?”

Bright and early on Friday morning, Jake, his cousin and uncle pulled out way before dawn for the long trip north. Jake had gotten out of the Friday day camp meeting and persuaded Dylan that he didn’t want to drag him to Madera too, if for no other reason than they didn’t have adequate room in Avery’s vehicle. He had already telephoned his mother who cried and told him he was being foolhardy but agreed to meet them at the house and unlock it. To any questions that might come up, Carolyn said she had never told George she didn’t have room for Jake’s stuff, so he would probably assume she took it.

Jake hoped that everything he owned would fit in the bed of the truck, but he shouldn’t have been concerned because there was ample room. The three men made quick work of it and Jake told them not to concern themselves with sorting. Just box it up and he’d sift through and repack it later. The task went without a hitch, and George did not cause trouble. By 12:30 they were back on the highway. By 7:30 they were home, worn out but safe.

Saturday morning. Jake was worn out from the frenetic, emotional day before, compounded by worries that his father would find out he’d gone to Madera and punish his mother for it. He was up early, having not slept well, and he felt bleary and unfocused. What made it worse was that, for most of the prior week, he hadn’t seen Dylan much outside of day camp either. Weekends together had become the norm, but Jake felt strongly about leaving his stuff scattered all over Pat and Avery’s patio. They had given him so much and he didn’t want to be rude.

Dylan had texted him at 8:30 wanting to make plans, and Jake explained that he was occupied and why. Dylan put himself at his disposal and said he’d get there as soon as possible. Jake was both grateful and eager to see him. Marcus sauntered out of his room at nine, volunteering to help too, but then Noah called. When told of the Madera trip and how Dylan would be hanging at the Walkers’, he quickly threw in with them and announced he and Sage would assist. It almost turned into a party when Erin decided she wanted to go see her boyfriend while her brother was visiting his.

It was nearly twelve, and everyone showed up at once, chattering happily. Jake had been working for more than five hours straight, and while he was making some headway with the mess, he had a long way to go. He was happy for the temporary distraction the company provided. It was boring work, his fingers were covered with paper cuts and he deserved a break.

Dylan found Jake on the shaded back patio totally hemmed in by semi-organized chaos. His possessions from Madera made up piles of cardboard containers and there was a large garbage bin from the side yard. The items originally brought from the Nielsen home had been so hastily crated, they were a misarranged jumble without any semblance of order. Box by box, Jake had studiously sorted and refilled to make a stack by the fence as he tossed things with no value into the trash.

“Hey, baby,” he said, leaning in for a kiss. “You look tired.”

“I am,” Jake agreed, taking time to cuddle into his boyfriend’s body and finding strength there. “I could use several large double espressos, and I still don’t think it would keep me awake.”

Dylan indicated the packing. “Why don’t you take half an hour and let me take you out to lunch?”

“I wish I could, I can’t leave Noah, Sage and Marcus to do this alone.” Sighing, Jake closed his eyes as he clung to him and inhaled his woodsy scent. “Besides, Aunt Pat is bringing home pizza for us.”

“Okay, put me to work then.”

Jake pointed a box which Dylan picked up and set on the picnic table. The label on it was an unintelligible scrawl, but when he opened the box he found books. A few paperbacks, a mechanical repair manual for his Ford Ranger, two textbooks for a history course he’d taken his first semester of college and a set of four yearbooks.

One annual he recognized; it was from Jake’s freshman year, Dylan’s sophomore one at APHS, his alma mater. The other three were foreign, all labeled West Madera High, where Jake had attended tenth through twelfth grade. Curious, he thought it would be interesting to see what Jake looked like at different stages of his youth. Yearbook photos, except for maybe the senior pictures, always made one look so dorky. He knew he was supposed to be working, but it would only take a few minutes. Chuckling, he grabbed the sophomore album first.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Jake protested with a laugh, trying to take the book back. He had seen Dylan curiously perusing his memory books and, like any self-respecting teen, didn’t want his boyfriend seeing any cringe-worthy images of him. If Jake recalled high school correctly, he was featured fairly prominently in them, especially the senior yearbook.

Dylan patiently held the book over head, inches above where Jake could reach, teasing him unmercifully. “Oh come on, baby,” he cooed. “I just want to look and see how cute you used to be.”

Exasperated, Jake blew out a noisy puff of air. “Fine, but do not say anything to me about my old pictures, good or bad.”

Dylan found a lounge chair and opened the book. He was glad to see that there was an index in the back, and he quickly located Jacob Nielsen under the ‘N’s’, listing every page his photo was featured. Nothing distinguishing in either that book or the junior annual except for recognizing the good-looking guy he was proud to call his boyfriend above each named caption. Hair length and clothing styles changed, but he still had that same warm smile and twinkling green eyes.

On to the senior album where, on page eight, he was one of seven students reclining on the senior lawn eating and listening to a band playing during the lunch hour. Page 54, there he was, sprawled in class looking bored while listening to a lecture. On page 85 in the activities section, he was dressed up in 60’s garb for Homecoming Week, sporting a loopy grin and a peace sign. Twelve pages later he was standing in another candid pose with a group of girls. Even in the quarter-page picture, he could see two of them gazing at him lasciviously, and he hid a wicked leer of possession. If Jake weren’t gay, he’d be such a chick magnet. On second thought, he was a chick magnet even if he was gay.

Page 165 was Jake’s senior picture, and Dylan had to admit he looked really cute in his informal pose with his elbows resting on what was supposed to be a tree branch. He was wearing a black button-down shirt, and his smile was dazzling. Very nice. On pages 222-224, back in the sports section, was Jake with his baseball team. There was an image of him playing shortstop, one of him sliding into third and the team photo. All pretty routine.

Dylan was just about to close the yearbook when a face caught his eye. It was another kid in the team photo, and Dylan thought he looked familiar. Very familiar, although at first he didn’t know where he knew him from. He followed the caption under the image that listed the names. Tony Holcomb. But that wasn’t how Dylan knew him. There was something different…

Twisting in his seat, he sprang up. “Jake,” he called. “Who is this?”

Jake peered over his shoulder and frowned. “That’s Tony Holcomb. You remember, I told you about him.”

Tony? Dylan thought. That’s Tony? But no, no… He has another name. And then it just clicked and he was staring at the picture in horror. Oh my god! It was Clarence, that kid who… Dylan looked up at Jake in wild panic, all sorts of doubt swirling through his mind. How could there be a connection where Jake knew him, unless? He felt fear grip his heart and with it, sudden mistrust of the boy behind him.

“He’s at Long Beach,” Dylan muttered speculatively, his gaze piercing.

That couldn’t be right, Jake thought. Tony had once inquired where he was going to college, and Jake had mentioned the state university, but that had been the end of it.

“No, he isn’t. I mean, I don’t think he is. I haven’t spoken to him in over a year so I guess it could be possible, but…”

Dylan gaped at Jake in bewilderment. How could he deny knowing that Tony went to Long Beach? They came from the same small town, the same school. And what was this name subterfuge? The boy he knew in that photo was named Clarence, and he was a sneak, a menace and a trouble-maker. And now he was Jake’s former friend?

“His name isn’t Tony, it’s Clarence.”

Jake threw him a confused glance, exhaustion and anxiety crawling up his gut. “Huh? You must have the wrong guy. Who is Clarence?”

“The kid in your yearbook, he’s Clarence,” Dylan repeated stubbornly. He could feel the reservations about Jake growing inside, and even as part of him knew they were probably unreasonable, he let them take over.

“No, he isn’t. That’s Tony Holcomb, the guy I tried to kiss. It’s right there in the yearbook, Dylan.” He pointed to the caption. “See? ‘Tony Holcomb’.”

“I thought he hates you.”

“Tony does hate me.” Jake stared at Dylan, wondering at the importance. “So what does it have to do with anything.”

“If this Tony or whoever hates you so much, why did he go to the university with you?”

"He didn’t go with me,” Jake asserted. “I told you, I haven’t talked to him once since the fight. I lost track of him after graduation. I don’t know where Tony went to college… if he even did.”

With a grimace, Dylan speculated that Jake might be playing loose with the truth. The past spring semester came to mind with a slew of ugly memories and all its associated turmoil. The details of several incidents involving a student named Clarence creeping around school who harassed a lot of innocent kids. Dylan was never able to establish what kind of fulfillment he got out of it or how he had the means to seize such an opportunity all by himself, but the aftermath had been vicious.

Jake was still talking. “I didn’t see Tony at Long Beach once last year. He wasn’t in any of my classes or in the dorms so it probably isn’t him.”

“But every freshman has to live in the dorm unless they have family off-campus,” Dylan argued in what he felt was a logical fashion. “It’s mandatory, and you said he’s from Madera.”

“Tony is from Madera.” Why the cross-examination and mind games?

Dylan's picture-perfect memory of the offensive teenager was of partial images and snatches of phrases, resulting in figurative backstabbing among friends and destroyed relationships. He had to wonder if Clarence was the only one in on the joke. Dylan and his friends had several unpleasant run-ins with the kid, and it just seemed suspicious that he turned out to be a guy Jake knew under a completely different name, and Jake was now his boyfriend.

Coincidence? Or a set-up?

“Why do you doubt me?” Jake was getting frustrated.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Dylan scoffed. “I’m in love with this guy I just met for the first time this summer. He comes from some town up north, and when he arrives he’s full of stories about an abusive father and getting beaten up by some guy. He says he doesn’t hang with him anymore, but guess what! They go to the same damn school. And they have different names.”

“What the hell!” Jake’s temper flared, and he fixed on Dylan defiantly. “I don’t know what’s going on with the name thingy and I definitely do not hang with him. But, full of stories? What is that supposed to mean? Why is it such a big deal?”

“It’s a big fucking deal if you’re hiding things from me or lying.”

From around the patio Jake could hear gasps from their friends, but he was too incensed to care if they were slinging mud in front of them. Lying? His eyes flashed angrily, and he felt as if he was looking at a stranger. Who was this person challenging his honesty? It would take an outsider, not someone who loved him, to stand there with no proof and accuse him of some inexplicable, as yet unnamed, wrong and totally disregard his efforts to fix it.

“Lying about what? Did you ever think that maybe you’re wrong, and they aren’t the same goddamned person?”

“Oh no, they're one and the same,” Dylan said in a low voice, “and all you’re doing is making excuses.”

Dylan quiet was almost more frightening to Jake than him yelling. Who cared if Tony was Clarence? It was so foolish. What had started as a simple misunderstanding in names was spiraling out of control into a battle in front of everyone. He valiantly tried to hold on to his temper.

“Excuses? What excuses? So what, you have it all figured out in your head, no matter what I say? I don’t know what the hell you’re even talking about.”

“I am not the one trying to shift the focus off myself,” Dylan said with gritted teeth.

Okay, could we just end this, Jake wondered desperately? He had been under a ton of stress and didn’t need this today, and he felt as if his attention span was shrinking to the size of a pea with all the accusations. Something had to be really freaking Dylan out to make him act like this, but damn it, he wasn’t making any sense. Jake would give anything to put the hostilities on hold so he could get a few hours of shut-eye before coming back to unfreeze it and resume, hopefully in a calmer manner. Maybe then they could sort it out.

Sage apparently had the same idea. “What do you say you two go to your separate corners?”

Jake sighed, obliged to her timing and hoping Dylan would give in temporarily. “You have completely lost me.”

“Me too,” Erin piped up. “Dylan, what’s wrong with you?”

Dylan wasn’t listening. He stared morosely at Jake, feeling the pain of confusion lodge in his heart. He didn’t like what he was thinking about him and wondering what Jake's words really meant. It was entirely possible that everything he had ever said about himself was deceitful which meant that Jake’s vows of love were also untrue. After their past four weeks together, getting to know each other, it was all now suspect. Was Jake really what he claimed? Or was it a put-on to drag him into a relationship that Clarence /Tony would exploit when they got back to school?

“This is the way I see it,” Dylan said slowly. “I love you, Jake. You said you love me, and maybe you do. But just as easily, you could be part of some scam that this Clarence kid likes to create…”

Jake was so overwhelmed he almost reeled. He went white, unable to swallow past the lump in his throat. What was Dylan saying? That he didn’t trust him anymore? Almost as if from a distance he heard Erin and Sage gasp again. Noah took two steps forward and his mouth dropped open as he quickly grasped the situation flying out of control.

“…and I can’t let you do that to me. I came out for you to all my friends, and fuck you, if this is a lie…”

“Are you threatening my cousin?” Marcus asked menacingly, his anger floating just barely under the surface as he rose up on the other side of the patio.

“Whoa, guys, all of you just stop,” Noah urged. He tried to calm both boys and get them to take a step back. “This is stupid. Why are you two fighting?”

“Back off, Noah,” Dylan warned. “This is between me and Jake.”

“What is between you and me?” Jake begged wearily. “I don’t know why you’re angry at me, but I’m trying to understand.”

“Haven’t you been listening?” Dylan huffed. “Stop acting all innocent like you don’t know what’s going on.”

“I don’t. I seriously don’t see where it makes a difference if Tony Holcomb is Clarence Whoever and at the university if I haven’t run into him.”

“Says you,” Dylan alleged. “You’re both freshman. You should know each other. From my side, it looks like I’ve been played.”

“Played?” Jake asked, incredulous. “You think I’m playing you? Hell, I’m just trying to figure out your fucked up sense of logic when you won’t even tell me why you’re mad. Remember when I told you there are 32,000 students at that damned college? I have never seen anyone who looks like Tony on campus, but I’ll agree they’re the same person if it makes you happy. I never met you either until this summer, so explain that if I’m supposed to know Clarence. I definitely don’t appreciate being called a player or a liar.”

Hearing it explained like that made Dylan feel stupid. Somewhere deep inside, he knew he was being unfair. He could see in Jake's face that he was breaking his heart. His own was falling apart in the same way, but that was partly his own damn fault for falling in love with the kid without knowing anything about him. He was suddenly aware that Jake had not uttered one awkward denial in his own defense and looked baffled more than anything. But Dylan was too angry and inflexible at the moment to let it matter, and he was sick of the whole mess.

“I’m done here,” he abruptly said in a clipped tone. His face was leaden and eyes cold. “For all I know you are just as guilty as he is.”

Jake opened his mouth to say something and closed it again. Done here? What did that mean? Guilty of what? He was only aware of Dylan striding through the door into the house, Erin in tow, as the others stared at them in alarm.

Dylan was walking out on him.

“Dylan,” he shouted, dropping the box of rapidly scattering loose coins he still held in his hand and chasing after his boyfriend. “Where are you going?”

“Home. Nowhere. Anywhere. It doesn’t matter. Just leave me alone.”

Jake gasped. “Are you breaking up with me?”

A look of sorrow passed through Dylan’s eyes. “What does it look like? Don’t follow me. Come on, Erin.”

The girl threw Jake a confused but apologetic glance and followed her almost-running brother out the front door. Jake could not move. He was numb and frozen to the floor.

“Noah was fishing his keys out his pocket with Sage right behind him. “Don’t worry, Jake. I’ll talk to him. I have no idea what’s going on either, but I’ll get back to you.”

Marcus came up beside Jake and stared after them. “Goddamn, what is the matter with him?”

“Please, Marcus,” Jake pleaded, stricken with shock and hurt that was like a vise to his heart. “Just don’t, okay?”

Marcus turned to look at Jake as he burst into tears. Marcus had rarely seen Jake cry, but he did what came naturally. He pulled him into a big hug.

I just watched the love of my life walk out the door, Jake thought, tears running down his face. And I don’t even know why.

(To be continued...)