Page 36

36

Ben Stirling

I feel bruised but better by the time Jeremiah is ready to leave. Lighter and clearer in my own mind. He skips down the stairs, stopping on the last one to wave at me. Again. He waved on the porch too. And on the first step.

I try not to smile too big about it.

I fail there.

He gets to the gate only for his exit to be thwarted by the latch. Instead of turning it left to release it, he turns it right. Moonlight hits the top of his head and icy-blue mercury spills down one side of his body.

The sight of him with his back turned to me, the sight of him leaving, suddenly seems wrong. Very wrong. Panic comes out of nowhere and tightens my chest.

What if he couldn’t hear the things I didn’t say aloud? What if I only think he can hear them?

I take the stairs three at a time and fly toward him, crashing into him hard enough to knock a soft, surprised squawk out of him. I wind my arms around him so tightly I feel his rib cage adjusting.

“Thank you,” I say, nestling my face into the place where his neck and shoulder meet. “Thank you for saying her name. Thank you for making it so I can talk to you about her and feel like it’s okay for me to do it. Thank you for asking if I’m okay and for knowing I might not be. Thank you for spending the day with me and helping me hang up the paintings. Thank you for letting me play with your dick, and thank you for being gentle with me. Thank you…just thank you.”

He raises an arm and curls his hand around my neck, turning his head to try to look up at me. He can’t because of how I’m holding him, but I can’t loosen my grip on him or let go of him just yet. I don’t want to. I kiss his cheek lightly. Once, twice, three times, until it creases against my lips.

“I’m glad it’s you, Jelly.”

When I release him, he successfully negotiates the gate lever and turns left to head home. I watch as he pauses under the streetlight to run a hand through his hair, mussing it up before it settles into perfect disorder.

He turns to me and raises two fingers to his brow in something resembling a salute.

“Get some sleep, Captain,” he says. His eyes add, “ You’re going to need it.”