Page 24 of Don’t Let Me Go

“He’s awake!”

I can hear the relief in Charlie’s voice, but I’m not sure who he’s talking to. My head feels like it’s full of wet cement.

It’s a struggle to even open my eyes. And when I do, the world is upside down.

“Jackson, are you all right?”

Jackson? Why’s he calling me Jackson? And why am I on the floor?

I don’t recognize this room. Are we in an air-raid shelter? Did something happen?

Charlie slips his hand into mine, and his green eyes stare down at me, full of tender concern. Despite my confusion, I can’t

help smiling. Those eyes always make me smile.

“Charlie,” I murmur.

Charlie frowns. “Jackson, it’s me. Riley .”

The name is a slap. It knocks the drowsiness from my brain. And everything comes into focus.

“Riley?” I hear myself say.

Right. Shit. Of course. He’s Riley. And I’m Jackson. And we’re in Orlando. Not London. London was?.?.?.?a dream? Right. Yeah.

A dream. And now I’m awake.

Aren’t I?

Shaking the uncertainty from my head, I force myself to concentrate.

I’m in Heartbeats. On the floor. I don’t know how I got here, but there’s a crowd gathered around me. Duy, Tala, Audrey, and several curious drag queens are staring down at me with bated breath like I’m some sort of sideshow attraction.

“What happened?” I ask.

“You fainted,” Duy, Tala, and Audrey answer in unison.

“I what?”

“You passed out,” Riley explains, still looking concerned. “In the middle of my song. You don’t remember?”

I remember Riley singing. Something by Queen, I think. Then I remember getting lightheaded.

No. Wait. That’s not right. Before the dizziness, there was something else. A feeling. Like déjà vu. Like I’d remembered something,

something important. What was it?

“Okay, kiddies, am I calling an ambulance or what?” Miss Understood asks, waving her bedazzled phone in my direction. “Do

we need to get this boy to a hospital?”

The entire room stares at me. I have no idea why I passed out or how long I’ve been unconscious, but I don’t feel like I need

to go to a hospital. If anything, I feel like an ass for causing a scene.

“Are you okay?” Riley asks, squeezing my hand. He still hasn’t let go. It feels nice. Comforting. It feels—

Like we belong together.

“I’m good,” I yelp, snatching my hand from his.

Riley looks taken aback. But I couldn’t help myself. My cheeks are burning.

Despite the unsteadiness of my legs, I force myself to stand. I’m feeling claustrophobic— trapped . I need to get outside. Away from people. I need to— think .

“Sorry I ruined the show,” I mumble to the crowd. Then, without waiting for a response, I push my way through the onlookers

and hurry to the exit.

Riley calls my name, but I don’t stop. I’m too ashamed. And confused. By my fainting. By my dream. But mostly by the things I felt for Riley in that dream. Things I’m pretty sure a guy doesn’t feel for another guy unless...

The afternoon sun almost blinds me when I step outside. It’s disorienting. I’m expecting to see a full moon in the night sky

and to feel a brisk chill in the air, and I can’t understand why I don’t until I remember they were part of the dream. The

dream where Riley and I—where we— belonged together?

“Jackson, wait up!” Riley shouts, exiting the bar with Duy, Audrey, and Tala close behind. “Where are you going?”

“Sorry,” I mutter, unable to look him in the face. “I needed some air.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine,” I lie, forcing a smile. “You guys should go back inside. Enjoy the rest of the show. Don’t worry about me.

I’m gonna head home.”

I scan the parking lot for my Jeep, then remember that it was Riley who drove Duy and me to Heartbeats.

“I’ll take you home,” Riley says, fishing the keys from his pocket.

“No!” I snap. Riley stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. And maybe I have. That would at least explain everything that’s happened

today.

“I mean thank you,” I say, trying to cover. “But you don’t have to do that. I’ll get a Lyft.”

“Jackson, you fainted . I’m not letting you take a Lyft.”

I can’t exactly argue with that. Not without making it seem like something really is wrong with me. Which there isn’t. I just

had a weird dream. That’s all.

I don’t even know why I’m reacting like this. So I had some dream where Riley—or someone who looked like Riley—said that he and I belonged together. So what? That could mean anything. It doesn’t have to mean— you know . And even if it did, it was a dream. This is reality.

“Jackson?” Riley says, his eyes full of concern.

“Okay, yeah, sure,” I concede, too exhausted to argue anymore. “You should probably drive me home.”

Riley nods, looking relieved. Then he turns to Duy and asks, “Are you ready to go?”

Duy hesitates and looks back toward Heartbeats. “Um, actually, if Jackson’s good now—and he does look so much better, so yay! —I think I’m going to stay for a bit and hang with Caleb. We were kind of vibing earlier, so...”

Crap . I assumed Duy would be coming with us. If they stay, it’ll be just Riley and me. In his car. Together. Alone.

“We’ll give Duy a ride home,” Audrey volunteers. “Tala and I are gonna stick around too. Maybe get another song in.”

“Unless Jackson needs us?” Tala offers.

Not trusting myself to speak, I shake my head.

“Okay. Cool,” Audrey says. “Well, feel better, dude.”

“And text us if you need anything,” Tala adds. “We can always bring soup.”

There’s a round of hugs. Then Duy, Tala, and Audrey head back inside.

“Right, let’s get you home,” Riley says, placing a supportive hand on my shoulder. It takes all my strength not to pull away.

Still, something in my face must betray how uncomfortable I am. Riley looks confused, then slowly retracts his hand.

“Do you think there’s something going around?” Riley asks as we drive down I-4. Even though it’s almost ninety degrees outside, we’ve got the windows down because Riley thought the fresh air might help me feel better.

It doesn’t.

If anything, my head is more of a mess now than it was when I came to. Because as hard as I try to block them out, the words

from my dream keep playing on a loop in my head.

We belong together. We belong together. We belong together.

“What do you mean, going around?” I ask, keeping my voice even and my eyes fixed on the road ahead.

“I mean, maybe there’s a fainting bug? I know that sounds crazy, but how else do you explain the fact that we both passed

out in public for literally no reason. Unless it’s the heat?”

“Yeah. Could be the heat,” I answer without much conviction. I’m less interested in figuring out why I fainted than I am in

forgetting that it ever happened.

Thankfully, Riley seems to get that I’m not in a mood to talk. He falls into a silence, and for one blessed minute, I’m convinced

the conversation is over. But I’m wrong.

“You didn’t happen to have any dreams when you passed out?”

I feel the color drain from my face.

“What?” I ask, unable to hide my surprise.

“Did you have any dreams?” he repeats. “I’m asking because when I fainted, that’s when I had that bizarre nightmare about

Pompeii.”

“I thought you had that dream the night after we went skating?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Riley’s cheeks redden. “It was actually a two-part dream. The first part happened when

I fainted at the carnival. The second happened after we went to Rink-O-Rama.”

“Oh.” So Riley’s had two dreams about me?

“Anyway, I was just wondering if you had any,” he presses. “Dreams, I mean.”

“No,” I lie, shutting my eyes the way I’d like to shut out this entire day.

I don’t know why I had the dream that I had, but I do know I’m not telling anyone about it, least of all Riley. It might give

him?.?.?.?ideas. Not that I think he’d ever try anything. He knows I’m not?.?.?.?There’s just no point in discussing it.

I mean, I like girls . I’ve always liked girls. It’s never even occurred to me to look at another guy.

Clearly my subconscious got its wires crossed. I mean, I know people keep mistaking us for a couple. I know Riley and I have

been spending a lot of time together, and we’ve grown really close really fast. It makes sense that some part of my brain

might have gotten a little “confused.” But the truth is, there’s nothing to be confused about.

Riley is my friend . Period. Sure, I like spending time with him. But that doesn’t mean I want to date him or—do anything else with him.

We’re just friends.

“Are you okay?” Riley asks. The worry in his voice catches me off guard. I can feel his anxious eyes studying me. It’s like

he’s trying to peer inside me. Like he knows there’s something to see.

“I’m fine,” I mutter, refusing to take my eyes off the traffic in front of us.

“You’re just kind of quiet. And you’re grinding your teeth. Are you sure you—”

“I’m fine ,” I bark. “I’m just tired, okay? So can we stop talking?”

“Okay.” The word comes out in a whisper, but the hurt in his voice is deafening. It’s like a sucker punch to my gut.

What is wrong with me? Why am I being such an ass?

It’s not Riley’s fault I had that stupid dream.

Why am I being such a baby about it? I mean, so what if I had a dream about us belonging together?

I also dreamed I was some sort of cat burglar in London.

The entire dream was nonsense. It’s not fair to take out my frustration on Riley just because I have an overactive imagination.

He hasn’t done anything wrong. I’m the one being a dick.

“Sorry,” I sigh, finally turning to look at him. “I didn’t mean to bite your head off. Today’s just been?.?.?.?a lot.”

“It’s okay,” he answers, shooting me a tentative smile. It’s a small thing, but it makes my heaviness feel a hundred pounds

lighter. “I should’ve told you we were taking you to a gay bar. I know from experience your first time can be stressful. I

didn’t mean for you to get overwhelmed.”

Despite the awkwardness of everything I’m feeling, Riley’s comment makes me laugh out loud. “Dude, I know you think I’m some

caveman jock, but I didn’t pass out because you took me to a gay bar. I’m not that fragile.”

At least I hope I’m not. Then again, considering the way I’ve been acting, maybe I’m not as secure in my masculinity as I

thought.

“I was actually having a good time before I fainted,” I add, hoping to make up for my piss-poor attitude. “And I’m sorry I

ruined your song. For what it’s worth, the part I heard was great.”

Riley shoots me a smirk. “Yeah, sure. You liked it so much , you decided you’d rather be unconscious.”

“Hey, now,” I retort, “if that’s the way you want to play it, then I’m the one who should be insulted.”

“Why?”

“Because I might’ve fainted when I heard you sing, but you fainted when you saw my face .”

Riley chuckles. And if his earlier smile put my entire body at ease, then his laughter makes me feel like everything is right

with the world.

By the time we pull into my aunt’s driveway, things are pretty much back to normal between Riley and me. Though I still want

to kick myself for letting things get weird in the first place.

I can’t believe I got so worked up over nothing. Less than nothing.

I mean, I played football for three years. I probably saw more dicks in the locker room than Riley’s seen in his entire life.

Did that freak me out or make me question my identity? No. Because I’m confident and comfortable in my sexuality, and one

stupid dream doesn’t change anything.

“Thanks for the ride home,” I say as Riley walks me to my front door.

“No problem. What are you going to do for the rest of the day?”

“Probably just take it easy. Watch some TV.”

“Cool. Well, if you need anything, let me know.”

I start to unlock the front door, expecting Riley to head back to his car. Instead, he shuffles in place, staring down at

his scuffed-up Chucks like he’s working up the courage to speak.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just?.?.?.?I just wanted to say that I’m glad you’re all right. When you passed out in the middle of my

song, I got worried. Really worried.” He shoots me a small, heartfelt smile. Then, as if embarrassed by his sincerity, he

adds, “Purely for selfish reasons, of course.”

“Of course,” I say, playing along.

“Obviously, I’ve invested a lot of time and effort into this friendship despite your multiple shortcomings, and I’ve gotten

used to having you around, so it would just suck if for any reason you—weren’t.”

This might be the most grudging compliment anyone has ever given me. But coming from Riley, it feels like scoring a touchdown.

“Don’t worry,” I assure him. “You’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

Without thinking, as if by instinct, I reach out and pull him into a hug. Maybe it’s on account of the sheer weirdness of

this day, but I’m almost overwhelmed by how much my body needs this.

I don’t really understand it. But holding Riley in my arms feels right. More than right. It feels familiar. Like coming home. Like—

Like we belong together .

Without warning, Riley pulls away. “I’ll see you later.”

Before I can say anything, he darts into his Prius and drives away. And I’m left here, standing at my door, wishing he were

still in my arms, and wondering what it would be like if I never had to let him go.