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Two
Ezra
I get a blue one. Blue raspberry. If you look at Icees every time you stop to get gas, you realize the blue ones are a little bit rare. I’m not sure why. Everybody goes for cherry. Maybe that’s it. But I like the blue.
I’m sucking it down so fast that I get brain freeze as I cross the little road that leads across the causeway into Georgia. It hurts my throat, but I can’t stop sucking it out of the straw. Across the parking lot and up the motel’s iron stairs…
I fumble with the card key to the door. My hands are damp and cool. I’ve got the Icee tucked under my arm, the cold of it bleeding through my long-sleeved T-shirt. I push the door open. Step into the room. There’s a painting of the lake above the king-sized bed. I look at the bed—the neatly made bed. I sit on the bed and drink more of the Icee.
Lyrics move through my brain. Sex After Cigarettes.
Saw you on the side of the road
I could see you were walking slow
Drinking a slurpee
I get this picture in my mind of the side of the road. The trees hanging over the road. There’s not that much shoulder, and it’s hot. The sun is warm and I feel good. I’m looking at my feet. I’m feeling uptight…wanting something. Good. I feel good, but I want something. I look up and—gut punch—there is Miller. Sunlight on his face. He looks shocked.
Look at that Do Gooder. Shocked his socks off.
I look down at his legs as he passes me by. God, he’s got some thicc legs.
I’m going to see him in physics. I’m going to see him again as he runs around the soccer field. I’m going to be across the way, but he’ll still be mine. He’ll be mine because I want him, even though it’s sick and twisted and I shouldn’t.
My heart starts to beat too fast. Too hard. I keep sucking on the Icee till my throat won’t swallow. Then I sit the thing down on the carpet and run into the bathroom, and throw it all up in a geyser of blue.
I remember puking after getting knocked out, after taking a fistful of pills, after the heat exhaustion. I remember waking up to Miller saying my name.
My chest—all the pain of not dying. I came here to die and Miller dragged me out of the lake. And so, I hated him.
I grabbed his dick.
I wanted him to die since he kept me from dying. I wanted to hurt him because every breath hurt so much, and I couldn’t take it.
I had the pills and I could take them, I could die but I tried and I couldn’t.
Miller.
Miller.
Miller.
What will he do if I squeeze that big cock? Can I make him mad? What is his dad like? Maybe we can go there on the boat if I ask, and I’ll fuck with him. Fucked with me, though, and my finger and the pain and fear.
I don’t want to go to the hospital.
“I can get it out. Hold it sideways, Ezra. If you have to, hold onto your wrist to keep it still. And don’t look.”
…
“Is your dad an asshole?”
“What? No.”
“You’re a liar, DG.”
“Did he seem like an asshole?”
“Maybe,” I said.
…
“If I pass out…don’t let them take me to…the hospital. Please.”
Miller, holding into me.
“Just don’t. Don’t leave me there.”
“I gotchu, Ez.”
I’m too hot. I took the Amitriptyline and it was so hot that day. He’s in the shower with me. Ride or die. I hope we ride and I don’t die.
I can’t think anymore because I’m sobbing like a little fucking kid.
Josh
I do a funky little knock on the door—letting Ezra know it's me. I guess he’s got his phone on silent or he's sleeping, because I've been trying to get him for the last half hour, and he hasn't texted back or answered.
It's okay, I tell myself. Maybe he's just distracted with a movie on his laptop or the new poetry book I got him. I stick my card into the slot and push the motel room door open. The first thing I notice is him lying on the bed with his back to the door. Second thing: the lights are on.
Then he makes a soft sound. I can see his body shake—because he's crying.
Oh, fuck.
"Angel?" He's on his side, uncovered and shirtless, hugging a white pillow. "Hey, angel, what happened?"
Fuck, he's really sobbing. The sounds are soft and quiet, like he's been at it a while.
I hop up on the bed and climb over him, then stretch out in front of him. "Angel?" I start to wrap my arm around him, already wanting to pull him against me. Before I can, he says, "I remembered."
WHAT?
His upper body shudders. “It just...came back. Like a light switch. I’m sorry,” he whimpers.
