Page 10 of Reece & Holden (Gomillion High Reunion #6)

CHAPTER TEN

Holden

I make it all the way back to my store before my knees give way, which is impressive considering that I didn’t think they’d even support me to walk away from Reece.

I sink into an easy chair, unable to do much more. The store’s busy and Clara is doing a great job of serving, though she keeps giving me concerned glances over her shoulder. I’m touched, especially as I haven’t said a word.

She continues while I sit and sift through everything that’s circulating in my brain.

I turn over every word Reece said, trying to make some sort of sense of it, but all I can hear ringing through my head are two words .

. . “I’m gay.” There’s a part of me which wants to scream and shout at him, demand to know why he put me through all that hurt, why he had to make my life so miserable just because of my sexuality.

It seems so unfair. Then there’s another part of me, a small dusty corner of my soul which has been under lock and key for twenty years, that’s now starting to glow with signs of life, pulsing with a rhythm that beats “he’s gay.

” I need to keep it in check, something I’ve successfully managed to do since the day I locked it away.

But it’s difficult when the drum beats louder and it consumes me.

Thirty minutes later when Clara locks the door and flips the closed sign, making a coffee and pressing the warm mug into my hand, the first thing I blurt out is, “He’s gay.”

Clara takes the chair opposite and sips her coffee.

“Are you going to expand on that or am I going to have to guess?”

I blink at her, grateful for being drawn from my reverie by her bluntness. I give her a small smile.

“That’s better,” she says, matching it. “I thought you were catatonic there for a minute. I take it the photos didn’t go well?”

I shrug. I’d forgotten about the photos, and I can’t really remember them much. She sighs at me and I take a gulp of my coffee, its warmth having a restorative effect on me.

“So, you’re going to make me guess, then . . . Let’s see. This startling revelation you’ve told me is about Reece, right?”

“Yes,” I reply. It doesn't take the skills of Jessica Fletcher to work out.

“You know being gay doesn’t stop him from being an asshole? In fact, in this case it makes it worse.”

“Yes, it does . . .” I let the words trail off.

“It sounds like there’s a but at the end of that.” Her voice holds a hint of scorn, which irks me slightly.

I take a swig of coffee and look at her—my only answer is another small shrug.

I don’t know how to explain the way this information affects me.

I don’t know myself, really. Only that it feels like tectonic plates have shifted deep within the Earth’s core.

They often cause earthquakes, but it’s too early to tell if this will be the same.

Clara sits forward in her chair and looks straight at me with a soft expression.

“Are you going to tell me what occurred back then? I know you were bullied for being gay and Reece was the perpetrator, you’ve told me that much. But I feel there has to be more to it than that. You mentioned you and Reece were friends way back, so what really happened?”

Do I want to tell her my story? I’ve never told anyone before. The only people who know it all are Reece and me. There are parts I haven’t even told my therapist.

“Okay then,” I say with a sigh, and she sits back in her chair while I take a deep breath.

“Reece and I used to be friends, but not best friends or anything. We went to each other’s parties when we were in fourth grade and stuff, but we didn’t hang out after school.

He was smart, and I tried to be, but I wasn’t really academic like he was.

I was more into hanging round the arts and crafts department while he was into science.

We were both on the swim team, though. I wasn’t super fast but I was consistent, and it was much better than ball sports.

Reece was the swim team captain in our senior year.

I looked up to him. Swimmer, smart, handsome. ”

“You had a crush on him. I knew it,” Clara exclaims with something like glee.

“Yeah,” I reply, playing it down because a fat lot of good it did me.

“The problems started just after Christmas in our senior year. Reece became withdrawn, he’d hand homework in late, answer back to teachers, skip classes.

He’d never had a go at me at that point, but he was occasionally short and snappish with me.

I heard he had trouble at home and put it down to that, but we were never close enough for me to ask if there was any way I could help.

In any case, he was the star of the swim team and I was a nobody.

“In February our art teacher decided we’d do a project and make Valentine’s gifts for each other. If you ask me it wasn’t a good idea, because all it created was division and rivalry, not to mention a sense of failure in those of us who didn’t receive gifts.”

“Yeah, that sort of thing wouldn’t happen nowadays,” Clara says, and I nod in agreement.

“Anyway, I made a heart. I knitted it and stuffed it, so it could easily fit in the palm of your hand.” I cup my hand to demonstrate and her mouth twitches. I was really proud of that heart. I’d devised the pattern myself and made it from red and pink wool so the color graduated over it.

“Of course the heart was for Reece. I thought it might cheer him up, and of course I did have a crush on him. I was too scared to give it to him directly, though, so I left it on his desk first thing on Valentine’s Day.”

I stop and take another gulp of my coffee, steeling myself for the next part.

“He saw the heart as soon as he sat down, and I saw that he smiled and picked it up. He looked around the room, everyone was talking and chatting, no one was paying him any attention. I watched as his smile slid and changed to a frown when he realized that none of the girls were looking at him. Then he looked straight at me. I’ll never forget the look on his face when he saw me.

His face twisted into a horrible mask. He stood and came over to me.

“Did you make this?” His voice was like steel as he shoved the heart in my face.

“I recoiled from him, unable to speak, but I gave a small nod. He leaned in close. “I don’t accept gifts from fairies. You’re rubbish, just like this is.

” He barged my shoulder as he pushed past me and walked to the trash can in the corner of the room.

He made sure I was looking at him before he dropped the heart into the trash.

Then he walked out of the room, and he didn’t return until after the first period.

After that the bullying began. The taunts, the name calling, and the shoving.

I was afraid to be alone with him, though being in company didn’t totally stop him.

I dropped out of the swim team, which wasn’t that bad as I had more time for knitting . . .” I trail off.

“What a grade-A asshole.” Clara declares.

“Yeah,” I agree but I can’t leave it there. “But he’s changed.”

“Has he?” She challenges me and I know it’s because she cares.

“I believe so.” I really do. He hasn’t given me any indication that he’s like the old Reece, even if his attempts at an apology have been clumsy.

“Do you still want to go tonight? To the prom.” Clara cuts through my thoughts.

“Yes, I do.” I don’t even hesitate in answering, and a frown of concern crosses her face.

“Will you be okay?”

“I think so. I’ve talked to him several times now, and I’ve stood up to him. He no longer has any power over me. I can meet him with perfect indifference.”

“Holden,” Clara snorts. “I think you’re more in danger of having a crush on him than ever before.”

I give her the derisory huff she deserves for such a statement because she’s wrong. Of course she is.