Go Your Own Way (21 page)

“You will not speak to my son like that!”

Karen stepped between them, but Will had heard enough. Lennox was infuriating. How could he ever let himself care about someone who could say such careless things right after kissing him as—as if he meant something? Despite the cruelty of the world and the reality of how unwelcome they both were in a town so narrow and closed away as this, Lennox kissed him as if they had a future together, a hope for some place and time when what everyone here thought became just an old line he could scratch out of his journal.

He stormed upstairs and was almost outside when another set of feet pounded up the stairs and stopped him.

“Get off, you pig.” He yanked his arm out of Lennox’s grasp and made a grab for his keys. Again, Lennox caught his arm and stopped him. He stepped right up to him, chest to chest, and tilted their foreheads together. His breath was shaky as he rested his hands on Will’s hips and met his eyes. Will almost forgave him then. He could let go of some of his anger when he saw how lost Lennox was in that moment. Lennox knew a lot about make-outs and orgasms, but parts of this were new to him, too.

“Shit, I-I’m sorry. Okay?” Lennox’s hands slid up Will’s neck to cup his jaw. His thumbs brushed over his cheeks. Another bit of Will’s anger flickered out. Lennox was trying. He had no idea what he was doing any more than Will did, and none of this was simple. He pressed a soft kiss to the tip of Will’s nose.

“Why do you say such stupid things?” Will asked. “One minute you’re kissing me like we’re… like I mean something to you, and then you just—don’t you get how much saying that hurts me?”

“I guess I don’t think enough before I say things. I don’t know. I just—I wish I had a better answer.”

Lennox dropped his gaze to where their chests met. He was lying, but Will didn’t bother trying to get him to admit that right now. This was about trust. Right now, Lennox had only given him so much. That was more than anyone else had from what Will could tell, but he couldn’t get into that conversation yet. Lennox didn’t trust anyone fully, and Will couldn’t blame him for that.

“I wish you wouldn’t turn into an ass every time we aren’t alone,” Will said. “It’s like every time I think I’ve learned some­thing new about you, something happens that makes me think I don’t know you at all.”

“Enough to make you slap me again?”

“Possibly.”

Lennox met his eyes, and that was the end of Will’s anger. He was going to drown within every contradiction that Lennox offered him, and he was going to be happy doing it. Patience would carry him through this journey with Lennox. Together, they would find a way to be wonderful.

Lennox kissed him, and Will’s chest hummed. He belonged here. This sensation humming through his skin whenever Len­nox was in his arms was worth the effort, the pain and the uncertainty.

Karen cleared her throat behind them. “I’ll take you to the store.” She gave them a bright smile Will had never seen before. It was a nice smile similar to the one she wore around his dad. “Lennox, do you need a ride home?”

Lennox didn’t answer. Will glanced at him and saw that same leer forming on his mouth.

“I think he’s going to go to the store with me,” Will said. He nudged Lennox with his elbow. “Right?”

“No, I’ll walk.”

“But—”

Lennox stepped into his boots he’d left by the front door and rolled his ankle until the back popped back up. “I’ll see you at school.”

“No, wait. I need your address and phone number,” Karen said. “For the next time Will decides not to call me.”

Lennox glowered at her and opened the front door. Will tried to stop him, but he left before he could catch him. In a lot of ways, Will was always running to catch up to Lennox, but this time it was different. This time, Lennox was running away.

“Well?”

“Thomas Street,” Will said as he closed the door behind him. “He lives at the motel over there. Room 5B.”

“He lives in a
motel
?”

“I know.” Will eyed the jackets on the hook and took his dad’s. It didn’t fit him as well as his own, but waiting for someone else to wear it wasn’t doing him any good. “I’m not sure what all is going on yet. He doesn’t have a phone. Or anyone.”

Karen frowned and put her own jacket on. “Come on. I’ll drive you over and Marty can give you a lift home after you two close up. Save you some gas from all the back and forth you’ve been driving to the hospital. Mr. Anders has started calling the house about the jerseys they need Monday for their first game.”

Will spent the ride telling her everything he could about Len­nox. He left a few things out, but Karen seemed to guess about their intimacy if her kind smile was anything to go by. He told her that Lennox lived on his own, that his parents had died years ago, and that some mysterious grandfather seemed to be involved with keeping him in a motel room. But more importantly, he said to Karen what he hadn’t managed to say to Lennox yet.

“I know I like him, but this—it’s nothing like what I’ve dreamed of or anything I’ve felt before,” Will said as they parked outside the store. “I’m scared of him, but I’m scared
for
him. And myself. The men that were outside last night—”

“I don’t want you there after dark anymore,” Karen said as she unlocked the doors. “No, don’t try to argue. They sound danger­ous, and you’ve had enough close calls with some of those idiots you go to school with. I don’t want you getting hurt or killed, Will.”

Will couldn’t argue with that. He didn’t want to be beaten into the cement, but he didn’t want Lennox to go through that either.

“What about Lennox? What if—”

Karen sighed as Marty pulled up beside them. “I don’t know right now. He’s not the nicest boy I’ve met, but he can’t stay there if those men are harassing him. Go inside. We’ll see if we can think up something else. Get him somewhere safer.”

Will shut the passenger door and let Marty ruffle his hair. Karen had never let him down, but he couldn’t see her being able to help Lennox find a safer place to live. Nobody else had stuck around long enough to give Lennox a reason to trust them, but Will was going to try.

Right then, Will made a promise to himself to be there for as long as Lennox would allow him. He was going to unravel every mystery until Lennox was laid bare before him, until Lennox’s heart was ready to accept his own. If it meant waiting forever, he would. Forever with Lennox still wouldn’t be long enough.

“So who’s that boy I saw creeping out of your room this morning?”

Lennox shoved another quarter into his washing machine and ignored Lucy. After walking back to the motel, he’d found her heading out with her bag of laundry hooked over a wooden baseball bat. It hadn’t taken much for her to convince him to join her. If he was lucky, the stains in his underwear might still wash out.

“Come on,” Lucy continued, bumping him with her hip. “He was cute. Nice, perky butt.”

“Thanks. I work on it every night.” Lennox watched one of his quarters roll across his machine and dive between his and Lucy’s. “You can pat it if you want.”

Lucy did, with a swift smack on his ass that made Lennox laugh. The elderly couple a few machines over gave them stern looks. It was busy for a Saturday morning: several dusty women with bags of clothes, a few older couples and two young men not much older than him. Lennox watched one of the women dump several dozen pairs of Ninja Turtles underwear into a machine in the corner.

“I meant his butt.” Lucy shut the lid on her dryer and turned it on. “Though yours isn’t awful. Not that I’ll get a chance at either. What’s his name?”

Lennox turned his washing machine on and let her drag him into a chair away from everyone else. They were all staring at him. Lennox always tried to avoid going out on the weekends, or anywhere during the day. His ankle monitor was a source of trouble for anyone who noticed it, but today it was tucked under the cuff of his jeans. They were staring at his skin, and Lennox would rather be stared at for any other reason.

“Will,” he said after a moment of glaring at a woman across the room. “He goes to school with me.”

“Boyfriend?”

“I don’t do boyfriends.” Lennox draped his ankle over his knee and pulled the cuff down farther. He was getting enough stares without proving all of these pricks right. “We’re blow-job buddies.”

Lucy nodded as if she was trying to placate him. She put her bat and bag on the chair beside her. “Sure. Okay. And I’ve got rubber ducks for tits.”

“That’d sure give those jackasses a surprise,” Lennox said.

“I’ll give them a surprise,” Lucy scowled. She grabbed the handle of her bat and flexed her fingers. “Shove this right up their asses.”

“They were at my door last night. Throwing bottles again. That’s why Will was there this morning.”

“I thought you were blow-job buddies.” She grinned and Len­nox rolled his eyes. “They probably scared him to death.”

“Dunno. He’s pretty… tough. Smart-ass.”

“He’s going to have to be with you. I almost slapped you that first day I met you.”

“He did.” A grin spread over his face.

“Good. You need a few.” Lucy crossed her legs on her chair, one leg under her and the other twisted up in her lap. She stretched her arms out in front of her and swung her hair around to her front. It was long, much longer than any hair Lennox had seen: a thick, black sheet from scalp to mid-thigh. Most days, Lucy braided it and twisted it up out of her way, but today she wore it in a loose ponytail. She brushed her fingers through it, separating it into groups to braid. She offered a section to him. “Help a girl out,” she said. Lennox began to help her braid as he once had for his sister. “So, have you heard from—”

“No. I won’t.” Lennox left it at that. He didn’t talk about his grand­father with anyone. The only reason Lucy knew about him was because she’d been in the room next door and heard every­thing that day in July. He separated her hair into three strands and began to braid. “Forget him. I have.”

“You should call him,” Lucy said. “Use my phone. I’m sure if you just—”

“No. He’s done and so am I, all right? Stop pestering me about it. Nothing’s changed.”

Lucy’s feet hit the linoleum. She reminded him of his grand­mother with her glare—direct, cold and steady.

“You don’t know that. He’s your grandfather. Call him. At least try. Tell him—”

“What? That I’ve been in detention for the past six weeks? That I’ve been suspended like I always am? He already knows that. You don’t even—just stay out of it.”

Lennox got up and moved his wet laundry to a dryer across the room. Lucy left him alone for a while. She sat by herself with a textbook balanced on her lap and a notebook in her hands. Twenty minutes later, she pulled her warm laundry from the dryer, folded it and carefully set it in her bag.

“I’ll see you around, all right?” She toed his foot to get his atten­tion, but Lennox ignored her and kept his head­phones sealed over his ears. Lucy left and everyone glanced at him even more. They all had expectations: that he would punch one of them or loot the detergent from the shelves or dent one of the washers with his skateboard.

A black kid sitting in a laundromat on a Saturday morning—of course he stood out. Without Lucy and her pale skin, he was a soiled mark of suspicion to every person present. Lennox almost wished he had a cherry bomb or firecracker to set off just to wipe those looks off their faces.

He flipped to a new song and turned it up. If he couldn’t hear them, it didn’t matter. He’d shut his eyes and listen to some music while he waited for his clothes to dry. He could fold them back in his room. A few wrinkles weren’t a big deal if it meant getting away from this crowd.

Lennox noted all the faces and the looks they each cast him every so often. Everyone looked his way, but nobody dared to start anything. Lennox shut his eyes and let himself drift into the rock beat thrumming through his ears. Thumb for the bass, middle fingers for the hi-hat and snare. He tapped along, not caring if someone got annoyed or came over and yelled at him. It wouldn’t be the first time, but they’d think twice with a crowd of people around, even if those people seemed just as keen on getting rid of him.

“You sound good.”

Lennox opened his eyes and his lips curled. Mr. Robinette, barely recognizable in sweatpants and a football jersey, smiled down at him. With a shrug, Lennox slid into the next seat. His cold shoulder didn’t deter Mr. Robinette. To Lennox’s annoyance, the man sat down next to him with several plastic grocery bags stuffed full of laundry.

“Washing machine at my house is broken. Water all over the basement. Buster’s been swimming all morning. I’ve got a few videos of it. He’s quite pleased. Buster’s my cat. Bit of a loon, but it’s fun to take videos of him swimming,” Mr. Robinette said. He sorted his clothes into piles of darks and lights and then picked the machine behind Lennox. “Huge mess, but it’s nice to get out on a Saturday.”

Eight minutes. He had eight minutes until his clothes were dry and he could escape. Lennox watched his dryer and tried to will it to work double-time. Maybe he could skip out and come back in an hour when Mr. Robinette was finished. That would be better than a lecture. The rest of this lot might be gone too and he’d be free to take his time and relax. Mr. Robinette’s overstuffed bags toppled over.

Or not. With that much laundry, he’d be here all day, and leav­ing his own clothes was too risky. Lennox would have to wait.

“You sounded good the other day,” Mr. Robinette said as he measured out detergent. “When you were playing piano. I know it was you. Will’s a great kid, but he’s pretty hopeless at holding a tune. I doubt he could play half that well in his dreams.”

Lennox shifted and looked away, but his CD was finished and he hadn’t brought another. He didn’t disagree with him about how awful Will was either. He blew and blew and nothing but F sharps punctuated the band room. It amused him to listen and watch the eye-rolls from the class, the fond snickers from Natasha and the exasperated glances of Mr. Robinette.

“He’s not bad at blowing a few other things,” Lennox said. Mr. Robinette didn’t flinch.

Four minutes. Mr. Robinette finished loading his washer, stretched and sat back down as it rumbled to life.

“Not going to deny it then?”

Lennox patted his empty backpack as if it was a dog. “Do you hear something, backpack? I’ve got this odd ringing in my ears that sounds like a middle-aged saggy pants dudebro. You, too, huh? Strange.”

“I am
not
middle-aged. Or a dudebro,” Mr. Robinette said and he looked rather cross. “My brother is both, but he’s still rumbling around a college campus on one of those longboards. Kids think he’s one of the cool professors. I still don’t like him.”

When Lennox ignored him, Mr. Robinette sighed. “If that was you playing—and I damn well know it was—then you’re good. Great, really. You’ve got something in those fingers—”

“Bones?” Lennox suggested. The dryer dinged and he hopped up.

“You can use the piano whenever you want, when the school’s open, I mean.” Mr. Robinette stood and leaned on the empty dryer beside Lennox. “I’ve got a lot of pieces we’ve never been able to play for concerts and competitions. If you ever—”

“Bye.” Lennox stuffed his last sock into his backpack and hur­ried toward the door.

He was halfway across the parking lot when he realized he’d for­gotten his skateboard. Mr. Robinette had noticed, too. He was coming after him, board in hand, when Lennox turned around. Lennox went back, watching him suspiciously the entire time.

“Forgot your wheels,” Mr. Robinette said. He suddenly looked concerned. “I can give you a ride home so you don’t have to lug your laundry across town.”

“It’s fine.”

“Right. Well, I’ll see you Tuesday, bright and early.”

“Whatever.”

Lennox kicked off and sped home. The parking lot contained only Lucy’s car and broken glass, but her door opened as he rolled past.

“You had a call,” Lucy said. “Well, I did. They called for you, but since you don’t have a phone… It’s about a job interview across town. They want to set one up.”

“Really?” Lennox squealed to a halt and rolled back toward her. Nobody had bothered to give him a job interview. Most employers said the spot had already been filled when they saw his ankle monitor. “Who was it?”

“Dunno. Some guy.”

“I mean what store, doofus?”

“Grocery store across town. I turned in the application for you.”

“That’s why they called,” Lennox said, his shoulders sagging. He looked at the number she handed him. They wouldn’t be interested for long, not after they saw his face or his ankle moni­tor or found out about his record. Nobody ever was. Except Will. “Thanks. I’ll call them back on the pay phone tomorrow, I guess.”

Or just go over there and end this potential job offer before it begins
. But Lennox didn’t say that out loud. “You should call your grandfather while you’re at it,” Lucy said and closed the door in his face.

Lennox stared at the rough, pockmarked wood for a few moments before retreating to his own room. It was easy for her to say, but it wasn’t easy to do. If he called, one of two things would happen. His grandfather would answer and tell him to stay put and graduate, or his grandmother would hang up when she realized it was him. He hadn’t spoken to her in almost three years now.

He put the trunk in place and lay down on his bed, thinking. It was stupid to call them. His grandfather wouldn’t want to deal with him and wouldn’t be convinced that he needed more money every month to survive. Lucy would be thrilled to hear his voice, but it would only hurt her more. He couldn’t risk that. He needed to stay put and let life carry him along.