0.08 - Sunday 11:48 a.m.
Rhys Wyer
"Oh boys you two are just adorable." A groan escapes my mouth, and I twist around.
"Fuck," I say when a sharp pain shoots down my neck.
"Language, young man," Mav's mom, Cameron, says, but her tone is playful. I sit up, stretching out my back, which is painfully stiff from the uncomfortable position I slept in. Finally I open my eyes, blinking at the bright light pouring through large windows.
"What time is it?" I ask groggily.
"Almost midday," Cameron says. Across from me, Mav is curled on the edge of the couch, one arm dangling over the side. "Wake him up, will you?"
"Yes ma'am," I say, scooting closer to Mav's limp body. I reach out and gently shake the sleeve of his sweatshirt. "Wake up!"
Mav makes a startled noise in the back of his throat before looking around wildly. "W-what's happening?"
"I'm making lunch sweetheart!" Cameron says from the kitchen.
"Good. I'm starving," Mav says. He sits up and with two hands violently messes up his hair, causing strands of his blonde hair to stick out. My hand automatically shoots out to smooth down the chaos, and Mav's neck flushes red.
"What are you boys doing today?" Cameron asks. I glance to Mav but he's gone completely still.
"Um...we'll probably hang out with Jules. Maybe walk Main Street," I say, glancing pleadingly to Mav.
"Do you boys need a ride there?" Cameron asks.
"It's fine, we'll just get an Uber," I say, "right Mav?" Beside me Mav comes back to life.
"Yeah, mom, we're fine," Mav says quickly, then without looking at me, "come on, I need to put some clothes on." That's when I notice he's only in boxers. How the fuck did I not notice last night? Whatever. It doesn't matter. Doesn't it?
My head must be messed up, or maybe I'm just tired. I follow Mav upstairs anyway, waving to Cameron as we pass by the kitchen. With Mav in front of me it's hard not to travel my gaze down his back, the muscles working over his shoulder blades, and settling on the dimples at the base of his spine.
Mav looks over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow, as if he knew I was looking.
"It's incredible how pale you are," I say as justification.
"You're one to talk," Mav shoots back with a scoff. I shove his back with a grin, and Mav stumbles onto the landing. "Do you want to start this?" Mav asks with a challenging glint in his eyes. From two steps above he looks more intimidating than usual.
"Nah I'm good," I say, barely containing a nervous laugh.
"Thought so," Mav says. He turns around and when I'm sure he's not expecting it I leap the last steps and shove him again, this time managing to knock him forward and to the ground. I can only celebrate for a moment because Mav immediately twists around and lunges for me.
His arms wrap around my knees and I fall to the ground, his body toppling on top of mine. I struggle to get a grip on his arms and before I know it my wrists are pinned down on either side of me. Our chests rise and fall in unison, and I catch myself staring at his bare abdomen, and the pale, golden hairs that pepper his skin.
He releases my arms.
"Soccer boy," Mav says.
"Hey, I weight lift too! Soccer isn't just about the legs," I argue. Mav pretends to contemplate this, then shakes his head, standing up.
"Then why are your arms so weak?" Mav asks.
"Fuck you."
Mav smirks, and walks into his bedroom.
"So, are we going to hang out with Jules?" I ask as Mav grabs a shirt from his closet and pulls it over his head. Mav raises an eyebrow.
"I thought you told my mom that as a cover," he says.
"For what?"
Mav shrugs. "Thought we'd go by the river."
The river Mav is talking about isn't really a river. It's real name is Willow Creek, a winding path of mud and water that divides the town. Ever since we bought our first joint we've been going to this little bend by the water where the trees provide good cover from the main road.
"Just us?" I ask, almost breathlessly, and I cough to cover it up. Mav pulls on some khakis, then looks at me with an iundecipherable expression.
"Do you want to invite more people?"
"No, just us is fine," I say, my voice trembling slightly. Mav disappears into the adjacent bathroom. He comes out with reddened cheeks, like he just splashed water on them.
"Get an Uber," Mav says. I roll my eyes at his commanding tone but unlock my phone anyways.
"Why am I always the one paying for Uber?" I complain. Mav smirks.
"I don't know, you just never ask me to," he says. I open my mouth to retort something clever, but I know I'll just sound stupid either way.
"You're an asshole," I say, because it's the best thing I can think of—and true. Mav smiles sideways at me.
"I thought we already confirmed that, soccer boy."
***
Maybe it's just me, but Main Street seems quieter today. Usually at 1:30 p.m there would be cars honking and people window shopping on the sidewalk. But today there's only us, in the backseat of an Uber, driving alone down towards the river.
Mav stays quiet too, looking out the window. I want to know what he's thinking.
"Dude, you're staring at me," Mav says. He faces me, and I quickly look away. "I know you were looking, Rhys. Don't deny it."
I turn towards him, feigning ignorance. "What?" I ask. Mav chuckles and looks back out the window.
"You think you're funny," Mav says, as if he's never entertained the thought before.
The Uber pulls over. I get out and survey the area. The trees are still blocking any view of the river, and there are less shops and restaurants here, so it's less likely for people to snoop around.
"You brought the Juuls right? I forgot mine," Mav says.
"Yeah," I say.
"Good. Let's go."
We walk away from the street, and the Uber makes an illegal U-turn, swerving back the way we came.
"My mom's gonna be pissed. I have a shitload of homework due but I haven't done any of it," Mav says, weaving with the grace of a natural born athlete through the trees that have begun to thicken the closer we get to the river.
"Same. And I have a history test tomorrow," I say, trying not to smack face first into a tree trunk. Mav doesn't seem to be having that problem.
"Oh fuck, I think I have it too," Mav says. We slow our pace once we enter a small clearing just beside the river, which has fences topped in barbed wire lining the bank. There's a bench a few feet back from the metal wire, and flashbacks of years of hanging out here pass through my mind.
Mav walks over and sits on the backrest, feet planting flat on the seat. He motions for me to sit next to him. I stand up on the bench, and take a seat like Mav did, pulling out the Juuls I brought. I hand one to Mav, who takes it and examines it closely.
"What flavor is it?" he asks.
"Mango," I say. Mav makes a face. "Don't be picky. You're not the one buying them."
"You couldn't have gotten mint or something?" Mav asks, but he takes a hit anyway.
"They didn't have any left," I explain before bringing the Juul up to my mouth. The air fills with nature's ever present trickle of water and wind rustling leaves, along with the occasional whoosh of air and faintly scented smoke.
It seems like hours when Mav glances at me with lowered eyelids. "What do you want to ask me?"
"What?" I ask, my voice going high-pitched. Mav looks at the fence blocking the river, his face pulled darkly in concentration, but his posture signalling an air of distractedness. I follow his gaze, but there's nothing there now that wasn't there before.
"I know you want to ask me questions, okay? You think I don't see how you're always looking at me?" Mav says. His mouth frowns, and I can tell he's irritated, possibly frustrated with me and the situation.
"I don't have any questions," I lie, because in reality I have a thousand, I just don't think I'm ready to hear the answers yet. Mav rolls his eyes, and sighs defeatedly.
"You think I'm gay?" he asks pointedly.
I'm so startled I erupt in a coughing fit, and I have to hunch over and wheeze until it passes. Mav waits impatiently for an answer.
"Come on, I know you want to know," Mav taunts, and then with mocking lightheartedness, "you want to know if I like dick. Don't be shy. Just ask." It's so sudden and shocking that I can't speak, and my brain has gone fuzzy and slow, and trying to understand the fragments of reactions in my mind is like wading through waist-deep water and trying to catch fish with my bare hands.
"I'm notㅡ"
"Oh yes you are. Don't try to deny it," Mav says, a mean glint in his eyes, even though I can tell by the tightness in his shoulders that he's completely miserable. It's like he's enjoying the pain, the torture he's putting himself through.
"Okay, fine. I am thinking that. But it's hard for me because you kiss some boy and then you turn around and flirt with every girl. How am I supposed to know which one is the real you?" I ask, my voice surprisingly steady. Mav flinches, and for a moment his eyes darken in pain.
"But what if I'm both?" Mav asks, and his eyes widen and his cheeks flush, the look people get when they think about something in depth and are talking about it for the first time. "What if I want to kiss boys and girls?"
This is why Mav wanted to be alone. Because deep down he wanted to talk to someone about this, something he has probably been mulling over for a long time, like a secret that he held close to his chest, so close no one could see it. But it's been eating away at him, and he can't take it anymore.
"What, are you bisexual now?" I demand. Mav's face falls, and a wave of hope crashes and burns in his eyes. He expects my approval, my forgiveness perhaps, maybe even needs it. So why don't I want to give it?
"What if I am?" Mav asks. One of his hands grips the edge of the bench so tightly the skin has gone bright white. There's a wall of badly constructed confidence building in his mind, and there's a sharp urge inside of me to break it down.
"Mav, you've liked girls all your life. Never a boy. This is just..." I trail off, and Mav's nostrils flare, and I can see the wall crack and topple in ruins.
"...a phase? You think...oh...okay, wow," Mav drops his head in his hands, mumbling under his breath. When he looks up again, his eyes shine with undeniable emotion.
"Mav, stop this. Stop. Just stop," I say firmly, pushing the words out. He needs to think through this, to slow down and fix this. I want to take another hit from my Juul but when I bring my hand up it's shaking so badly I abandon the effort. Fuck, what's wrong with me?
"I thought..." Mav says quietly, his face still covered by his hands, muffling his voice. My heartbeat thumps too slowly, sluggishly, and I wonder if it's normal to feel it so painfully and clearly in your chest, each beat slamming past skin and bone.
"This isn't you Mav. I don't know what's happening but it's not you," I say, the words slipping from my mouth, a stream of nonsense, just the first words that can be strung into a sentence. Mav sits up, face brightened in determination.
"But it is," Mav says, "I just never showed you this side of me." His words seem to hit me like a punch to the gut, so hard I swear I can see stars.
"I've known you since we were four," I argue, my eyes burning, the whole world around me just burning and crumbling, "there's no way. I know you, Mav. We don't keep things from each other."
"Why don't you believe me?" Mav asks, "Why?"
I shake my head, my whole body numb, "This isn't..."
"...what you wanted?" Mav finishes solemnly. I open my mouth to argue, to say the millions of thoughts rushing through my mind, but only air comes out. Because Mav is right. This is not what I wanted.
Mav slumps forward, setting his elbows heavily on his knees. He looks so helpless, so pitiful, nothing like the Mav I know. Everything about him is just different now. Shaking my head, I hop off the bench.
"I need to..." I say roughly, "...I gotta go. I'm sorry." I stumble away from him and away from the sorry excuse of a river, the only coherent thought in my mind that I need to go. When I reach Main Street I order an Uber. I keep looking over my shoulder, expecting to see Mav walking out of the line of trees, eyes wild with hurt and hysteria.
I know it's insensitive, what I'm doing. Telling him all of those things and leaving him here. But I don't know what else to do. I'm out of options.
The Uber pulls up a few minutes later and I can only start breathing again when I'm in my room with the door closed shut behind me.