In the middle of Des Plaines Illinois three boys find themselves in a tangled knot of angsty lust and amateur love.
Evan Webster has an average American life. When he isn't at swim practice or the movie theater, he's trying to make time to study bi...
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Des Plaines was exposed to the heavens. There were no clouds in sight, only a clear expanse of blue. Higher than the telephone wires, but lower than the distant evergreens, the view from the water tower made the town look like a storybook grid. Every building had its place, every stoplight matched the tune of traffic, and every car slowed for the same turns. Jackson liked the big picture. It made the world seem less scary, like no matter where he went, every place would function the same.
"You're hard to find when you're brooding," Evan greeted, hauling himself over the maintenance ladder. He had gone to the skate park, Oasis Springs, and even Lincoln High's pool, but he couldn't find the freckled boy with red hair.
The side of Jackson's mouth twitched, imaging the preppy boy searching the whole town.
"How was work?"
Evan was still wearing his Drexel Cinema polo. The summer months had made the unfashionable uniform become his most distinguishable trademark. All he ever did was work, work, work—and save Danny from bad influences, of course.
"Shitty," Evan replied, sitting behind Jackson. "I missed my whole morning shift. Rod was pissed. He made me stay overtime. Did you know there's no policy for heroin-related rescue missions?"
"I'm shocked," Jackson uttered. He let Evan wrap his arms around his waist.
"Right," Evan agreed, resting his chin on the redhead's shoulder as he spoke. "I might write a complaint letter to corporate."
Jackson had left Evan's house before Danny woke up. He had made three batches of pancakes and then left, feeling more like a burden than a guest. Nadine was already awake, sipping orange juice while she watched Bones cradle Clem. Evan had disappeared into the living room, attempting to rouse the drug-logged boy on the couch. Jackson awkwardly lingered into the front hall and quietly observed the dysfunction. He snuck out and walked to the water tower while the sun was at its peak.
"How was Danny this morning?"
Evan shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "He didn't say much. He liked your pancakes, though. I'm glad he ate something. I offered to give him a ride home, but he didn't want to leave. I didn't ask too many questions."
Leave.
Soon Jackson would be the one leaving—leaving the state, not just Evan's house.
He had wasted so much time. All these years he had pushed away Evan. If only he had been honest earlier, maybe they could have been together, without Danny or Heather or Tony. Had the universe put those people in their lives for a reason? Or had the universe made a mistake? Was there a version of reality that allowed them to be together? Maybe Jackson would have chosen to stay in Des Plaines if he had someone telling him that he belonged somewhere other than a trailer park.
"I should've told you sooner," Jackson spoke.
"It wouldn't have changed anything," Evan responded. "You're leaving. Telling me wouldn't have—"
"No," Jackson cut in. "I'm not talking about the army. I'm talking about when we first met. I should've told you. I should've walked right up to you and told you how I felt. It would've saved us a lot of bullshit."
Evan shook his head, looking beyond the suburban rooftops. "We would've gotten the bullshit from everybody else. I don't think it would've been any easier."
Maybe he was right.
Maybe they were fated to be star-crossed.
Maybe if they didn't have Danny between them, they would've had the whole town against them instead. Or Jackson's mom. Or Coach Farley. Or Tina and the snarky cheerleaders. Maybe they really weren't meant to be.
Or maybe they convinced themselves that they were doomed from the start because neither of them wanted to take responsibility for their inevitable separation.
Evan felt as though he should be angrier, or Jackson should be sadder, but they weren't. The two boys were willing to release each other like two messenger birds on a mission. Perhaps they'd come together again, in a different life or as different people.
"People are talking, you know," the redhead murmured. "About the spring dance. About you and me."
Evan knew people thought of him as the David Bowie of the town. Or the Andy Warhol of Lincoln High School. Or the Freddie Mercury of the swim team. The scale of perception didn't matter, in this town and throughout the entire country, he was seen as different because was gay. He had no doubt the gossip would continue even after Jackson was gone. He was ready for it, though. If the town needed a lightning rod for gay slander, Evan would get struck a thousand times and grow stronger and stronger. Maybe he had read too many Flash comics to believe he could withstand such harsh blows, but he was willing to try nonetheless. He wasn't invincible, but he wasn't alone either. Maybe that was the reason the universe had given him so many special people.
Maybe, maybe, maybe. The pestering word was so infinite that Evan guessed it could outlast the lightbulb industry. He always tried to distance himself from the what-ifs that loomed in his brain. That's why he clung to school and facts and logic. Because a lifetime filled with maybes would leave no time for the definiteness of joy. He had learned that after his mother had died.
"Does that mean you're leaving town as an icon?" Evan joked. "The Boy Who Kissed Evan Webster. Do you think you're on the bathroom stalls yet?"
The pale boy smiled, leaning into Evan. "I'm going to miss you," he whispered.
Evan squeezed him closer. "I'll be here when you get back."
Jackson's response was captured by the remarkably intimidating sky.
