All Things Lost (5 page)

Chapter 3

     The sun was still hovering low over the horizon when I pulled into our driveway that evening. The days were getting longer and longer as summer officially approached. I lived with my surrogate father, Adam Connelly, and his partner, Steve Redden, in an old two-story beach house just a few blocks off the boardwalk. We lived in a beach resort town on the
Atlantic Ocean
. For about six months of the year it was a quiet small town, but when the tourist season started, usually sometime around Memorial Day, it swelled to a small city. For now, things were still on the quiet side. Things wouldn't get really crazy until after the schools let out.

     As I climbed out my car I thought about the events that had brought me here. It was Adam's son, Seth, who had first helped me admit that I was gay. When he was murdered, it set many things into motion. I came out to my homophobic father in an argument, and he proceeded to beat me up and kick me out. Adam had taken me in without a second's thought. I'd lived with him ever since, even when my Mom moved to
Pennsylvania
to be near her sister, Aidan's mom.

     My hand was on the doorknob when the door flew open and a small, compact body plowed into me at full force. I staggered back and wrapped my arms around the missile.

     “Whoa, sorry Killian,” Kane panted as he disentangled himself from my grasp.

     Kane was Adam's younger son and, for all intents and purposes, my little brother. Every time I looked at him I saw Seth in his features. They both had inherited their mother's looks, elfin and attractive. They both had intelligent, bright green eyes and a slightly upturned nose. Their hair tended to have a flyaway look to it that suggested that no matter what they tried it would do exactly as it pleased. Seth had worn the look proudly and it suited him. Kane always managed to look like he needed a comb. The other big difference between the two brothers was that Seth had been tall and lanky, where Kane was thus far short and sturdy, although he kept swearing he just hadn't hit his growth spurt yet. He was 16 and he seemed to have a different girlfriend every week.

     “Where are you off to in such a hurry?” I asked him.

     “Mitch just called, his mom said we can go skating tonight at the new indoors skate-park. We gotta roll before she changes her mind. You know, school night and all.”

     I laughed, “Alright, have fun.”

     “I will,” he yelled as he jumped the porch rail.

     “And if you see any cute guys think of me,” I called after him.

     “Ha! Get your own guys!” He jumped into Adam's car, a dusty old Jeep Cherokee, and tore out of the driveway in a spray of gravel.

     Adam was waiting just inside the door. “What was that about?” he asked. Adam didn't look all that much like either of his sons. They had taken more after their mother, but Seth had gotten his height from his father. Adam stood a little over six foot and was looking more and more distinguished as his once reddish-blonde hair turned grayer and grayer. His face still held a certain boyish charm, though, and his eyes were a sparkling pale blue. Right now they were clouded with concern. Just what I needed, I thought.

     “Kane is going skating,” I said, unsure of what he meant and not at all sure what his tone of voice was implying.

     “Yes I know,” he said patiently, “I gave him permission. I meant what was that about cute guys? Are you and Asher ok?”

     “
Geez
, Adam. I was just kidding. Asher and I are fine.”

     “You're sure?”

     “Of course I'm sure,” I said, although I wasn't really all that sure. I walked into the kitchen with Adam close on my heels. “We're even looking at apartments.”

     His eyebrows shot up, “Apartments?”

     
“Apartments?”
Steve echoed from his spot at the kitchen table, where he sat hunched over a set of blueprints.

     “Yes, apartments,” I said. I opened the refrigerator and rummaged around until I found a Pepsi.

     “When did this happen?” Adam asked me. I definitely didn't like his tone of voice now.

     “Nothing has happened, yet. We're just looking. We don't want to live on campus and we don't want to drive an hour every day so it just makes sense that we'd get an apartment. I'd be moving out if I was going away to college anyway. What's the big deal?”

     “The big deal is you haven't even discussed this with me.”

     “I didn't know I had to. Look, we're just getting a head start.”

     
“A head start?
You just graduated a day ago! And you're already apartment shopping? Have you picked out your china pattern yet? Are you registered?”

     “Huh?”

     “Does your mother know about this?”

     “I'm almost 18; I don't need my mommy's permission,” I snapped.

     “So that means no.”

     “It means screw you, that's what it means.” I slammed the Pepsi down on the counter, splashing it all over the place, and stormed out of the room. I took the stairs two at a time and slammed my bedroom door shut behind me.

     I slumped against the door and looked around the room I shared with Kane. It was a small room, never intended for two occupants, and so it was crowded with all the things two teen-aged boys think they need to survive. Two single beds took up most of the floor space. A desk, set against one wall under a sloping ceiling, held a computer and stack of books. Two mismatched dressers flanked the desk. Mine held a small TV set and Kane's an assortment of junk that leaned perilously to one side, threatening to spill onto the floor at the slightest provocation. Clothes lay scattered about the room, some mine and some Kane's, some dirty and some clean. A cloudy glass lay atop a pile of outgrown shirts that Kane had cleaned out of his dresser last week and never touched since. The wall's decorations were pretty much untouched since the day I moved in. They were exactly as Seth had left them the last time he walked out of this room. By some unspoken agreement, neither Kane nor I had ever made a move to take them down. A Matthew Sheppard poster hung on one wall and an old MTV Fight
For
Your Rights poster graced the other. They served as a quiet reminder of the boy who had once lived in this room.

     A soft knock on the door brought me back to the present.

     
“Killian?”
It was Steve. “Can we talk?”

     I sighed and moved away from the door. “Come on in,” I told him as I dropped backwards onto my bed.

     The door opened and Steve leaned against the doorframe. “You ok?”

     “I'm fine,” I said to the ceiling.

     He walked over and sat down next to me. Steve was in his early 40's and in great shape. He had warm brown eyes and dark brown hair and was usually the voice of reason in our home. Despite the fact that I had lived with Steve almost as long as I had Adam, we had never formed the depth of bond that Adam and I shared. Still, I respected his opinion and valued his advice. I just wasn't sure I was in the mood for it right now.

     “You could have broken it to him a little more gently, you know?” he said.

     “Great, now you're going to come up here and lay a guilt trip on me.”

     “I'm not trying to lay any guilt trips. I'm just saying that this isn't easy for him.”

     “What isn't easy?”

     “You're a smart boy, Killian, think about it. Adam has been your father for the last two years. He loves you like you're his son. You and Kane are his world, especially since he lost Seth. Now you're growing up and getting ready to fly the nest. He's still getting used to the idea that you're a high school graduate and then you walk in and announce you're moving out.
With no warnings, no discussion, nothing.
How do you think that makes him feel?”

     “That doesn't mean he can jump down my throat,” I said petulantly.

     “From where I was sitting it looked like you were both doing your share of throat jumping. What's really going on, Kill? What's bothering you?”

     “What do you mean?”

     “Something is bothering you. I've lived with you long enough to know the signs. You aren't exactly hard to read you know.”

     “Great.
Just great.
So now I'm a bad son and I'm transparent.”

     “I never said you're a bad a son. And stop trying to turn everything into a fight. I'm not going to rise to the bait as easily as Adam. You're just trying to avoid the real issue.”

     “And what, pray tell, is the real issue, oh great and mighty Oz?”

     “That's what I'm asking you, Dorothy.”

     I frowned, “How come I
hafta
be the girl?”

     “Killian…”

It was clear from his voice that Steve was running out of patience. I sighed. “I don't know what the problem is. I'm pretty sure it's me though.”

     “What's going on?”

     “I don't know,” I moaned, “There's something wrong with me. I'm scared to death of moving in with Asher. I mean I know I love him, but the whole idea just seems really crazy right now. Do you know we've never even had sex?”

     Steve tried to keep his expression under control and almost succeeded. “No, I didn't know that. What does that have to do with moving in with him?”

     “Asher wants to. I know he does. He always wants to. I'm the one who always says no; we should wait. What we're waiting for nobody knows. I'm just not ready.”

     “Then Asher will wait for you until you are ready. I don't think Asher is the type to force anyone into anything they aren't read for.”

     “I know he's not and that's what makes it so hard. If he was being a jerk about it maybe it wouldn't be so hard to keep saying no. But I know how much he wants to and I know he knows how much I don't want to and I know it hurts him.”

     “Is this the root of your problem with the apartment?”

     “I don't know. Maybe I'm just commitment phobic.”

     “Well, you have good reason to be. You grew up in a family without any love between your parents so you haven't had the best role models to base your ideas of relationships on. You've lost a lot of people who have been close to you. There're probably a lot of issues you need to work through. Maybe you should think about going back to your counselor.”

     I had gone to a counselor for quite a while after my stabbing and the murders. I had been suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder among other things. He'd been a huge help to me at the time but I'd stopped seeing him a few months back. “Maybe so,” I agreed, “I certainly seem to be nuts enough to need to go back.”

     “Killian, you're not nuts. You just need to talk to somebody and work through some things. Everybody has doubts and fears in their relationships. That's normal. You just can't let them paralyze you. Being in a relationship is about taking risks. You have to do what you feel is right in your heart. If you really love Asher you won't give up that easily.” He ruffled my hair and started for the door. “Oh, and Killian, when you're up to it maybe you should talk to Adam, huh?”

     I nodded and he closed the door behind himself. I was engrossed in following the progress of a small spider across my ceiling when the phone began to ring. I instinctively moved to answer it before I remembered that Adam and Steve were home. Let them answer it, I thought, and went back to tracking my eight-legged friend. He hadn't even reached the light fixture before Adam yelled up that the phone was for me.

     I heaved myself up and picked up the phone. “Hello?”

     I heard the downstairs extension hang up and then a voice I didn't recognize spoke, “Killian?”

     
“Yeah?”

     “You don't know who this is, do you?”

     I hesitated, “Not really.”

     “Well, I guess it has been a while.” The guy on the other end sounded disappointed.

     Something clicked in my head, “Jake?”

     “You did remember!” his now deeper voice filled with pleasure.

     “Like I could forget you,” I said with a grin.

     “It's been a long time.”

     “Not that long. What's up?”