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People congratulated him, and he responded automatically, but he barely heard them as he scanned the crowd for Jake. When he couldn’t find him on the terrace, Micah looked back at the house, wondering if he’d gone inside. He didn’t have the energy to wade through more people to find Jake, so he continued toward the boathouse and then along the waterfront.
He was heading to his favorite spot on the property, a small cove hidden from sight by overgrown trees and shrubs, on a sandy patch ringed with blueberry bushes, their slender branches bending under the weight of their sweet, ripe fruit. Micah spent a lot of time here each summer, snacking on blueberries and climbing the trees, pretending he was someone else, living a different life.
One of the trees had fallen down years ago, and it made the perfect place to sit and dangle his feet in the water. Micah took off his shoes and walked as far along the log as he could without it bending under his weight. Sitting down, he lifted the flowers to his nose. The chrysanthemum gave off a heady scent, but the two roses were scentless. Beautiful and perfect to look at, but that was all they had to offer. They didn’t even have thorns. He stroked their petals with his index finger, then pulled one off and tossed it in the water. Then another. And another. He finished with one rose and tossed the stem after the petals, then started on the other one, ripping it apart with a single-minded intensity that surprised him as another wave of anger washed over him.
He wanted to scream, but his throat was already raw from the evening’s performance, and he knew better than to strain his vocal cords. So he continued to tear the flowers apart and watch them drift away. When they were completely destroyed, he watched their ghost-white petals bob on the surface.
The snap of a twig alerted him to someone’s presence. He didn’t have to turn around to know Jake had found him, nor did it surprise him. He’d been hoping this would happen when he came down here.
“Did Alex tell you where I went?”
“Nope.” Jake slipped his shoes off and tossed them towards Micah’s on the bank. The log vibrated slightly as he stepped onto it.
Micah swung his leg over, straddling the log and facing him. Jake made his way closer, arms held out to keep his balance. It made Micah grin because the log was as familiar and steady to him as the ground.
“How’d you find me?”
Jake shrugged, a move that made him tip precariously over to one side and flail his arms to regain his balance. He opted for sitting and then scooting closer to Micah.
“Dunno, actually,” Jake said. Their knees grazed as he settled into place. “I tried to follow you into the house, but you disappeared, so I wandered around and ended up here.” He looked around. “This is pretty cool. Kind of like being in another world.” While he was looking over his shoulder, he asked, “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Micah said, but when Jake turned to look at him, he knew Jake didn’t believe him. “Maybe.”
“Could be the letdown after a big event. I get that way after a big swim meet, especially if I’ve been training really hard for it.”
Micah shrugged. “That could be it.” Or that my parents are assholes, but whatever.
Without warning, Jake reached out and ran his finger along Micah’s cheek. His touch was gentle, but so unexpected that Micah pulled back.
“Sorry.” Jake rubbed his fingers together, and when he showed them to Micah, they glittered like diamonds in the dim light. “You missed some of your makeup.”
“Huh.” Micah reached out and took Jake’s hand in his, then rubbed at his fingers. Jake turned his hand, and suddenly their palms were touching, their fingers entwined.
“This okay?” Jake asked.
Micah stared at their hands, then looked at Jake, and nodded because he couldn’t get his mouth to work. He swallowed. “Yeah.”
They were quiet for a bit, the sound of the water lapping at the bank and the distant trill of voices and laughter from the house keeping the silence from being absolute. Then Jake began to talk. He asked questions about when Micah had started to dance, his favorite music, and what kinds of things he loved doing when he was little. He wanted to know Micah’s favorite food, which happened to be artichokes.
“Seriously? That’s mine too.”
“You’re making fun of me. I’ve never met anyone who says they’re their favorite.”
“It’s true. I love them. There’s a town about an hour south of San Francisco, where they grow artichokes. They’ve got a restaurant that cooks them in just about any way you can think of. My dad and I…” And just like that, Jake shut down.
Micah didn’t press. Somehow he knew better, so he let the silence fold back over them until Jake started to ask questions again. Micah asked a few too. Mostly about San Francisco and what it was like. They traded stories about the Castro and the East Village. Micah didn’t have anywhere near the considerable experience Jake did, but he’d wandered around in the past year since he’d been at school and living in the city.
They talked for hours, not noticing the time until Micah became aware that the voices from the house had disappeared. He looked at his watch and saw it was close to one in the morning.
“Alex is probably looking for you,” he told Jake.
“Alex left a while ago with that actress. He told me I could stay with you since you have a guest room or six to spare.”
Micah laughed. “I can probably find someplace to put you.” He looked off across the water and sighed. “We should head back to the house.”
“Maybe…” Jake leaned toward him, and Micah found himself following suit, hoping Jake was going to kiss him. When they were almost touching, Jake asked, “You ever gone swimming out here at night?”
“At night, no. I can lend you a pair of trunks if you want.”
