Bear, Otter, & the Kid 03 - The Art of Breathing (58 page)

It hurt. Misguided? Probably. Selfish? Yeah. That too.

Necessary?

I think so.

Dom, I—

Bear. Otter. Can you give us a minute?
He did nothing to disguise his anger.

Bear had looked to protest, but Otter led him away.

Dom argued with me then. In a way I’d never seen from him before. Fiercely. Bitterly. He told me I was running away again. That I was running and this time I wouldn’t come back. I probably wouldn’t even
look
back. I would leave them (him) all behind and I would forget about them (him). I probably never even really
needed
them (him). I understood his words were born of desperation, that they weren’t what he really thought, but they still hit me like a hammer to the chest. Dominic, my big, solid Dominic, was
scared
.

As if I could ever truly doubt how he felt about me. As if I could ever think anything but the truth ever again.

Dom
, I said.
It’s not going to be like that.

It will.

No. Not this time.

How is this any different?

Because I know now.

What?

That this is my home.

It’s always been your home.

Maybe
, I said
. But you are too.

The anger left him as quickly as it had come. What was left was a defeated resolve.

I can’t do this again
, he said finally, and my heart stopped in my chest.

What?

Lose you. Not again. Not ever. It would kill me.
His voice broke and I had to stop myself from collapsing.
It almost did. I can’t let that happen again. I want you to go. Because it’s for you. It’s the right thing to do. It’s the only thing to do. And it’s not fair, I know, but I’m standing in front of you now, telling you that I want you to stay. Because that’s for me. I can’t lose you, Ty. I can’t.

I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him briefly.
You won’t lose me
, I told him.
Because I’m not lost. Not anymore.

Then why?

So I can stand by your side.

Ty—

Hush. There’s still time.

And there was, though it went by faster than either of us wanted it to.

I’d wake up and he’d be sleeping at my side.

I’d be reading
Brave New World
and feel his fingers in my hair.

He laughed, that broken, rusty sound.

His hand in mine, fingers intertwined.

Looming above me as I called out his name, my head rocking back, his lips against my neck.

Holding me when the earth shook beneath me when I woke from a dream where Julie had taken Mrs. Paquinn away from me. I tried to tell him it was
real
, it was all so
real
, and the kite flew so
high
, but I couldn’t get it out past the air lodged in my throat and lungs. He rubbed my back as he whispered in my ear. He said,
I’m here
,
I promise it’ll be okay
, and
Breathe, Ty. Just breathe. You can do this because it’s who you are. You’re bigger than this. You’re stronger than this.

And I was. For a while. For him.

Dartmouth agreed to take me back. On probation, of course.
You’ll have to be exemplary
, the guidance counselor warned.
One misstep and you’re gone.

There wouldn’t be. Not this time.

The date grew closer.

I’ll come and see you
, he argued.

I shook my head.
No. I need to do this. Can’t you understand?

He could. I know he could. But he said,
No. No, Tyson. I can’t. You’re being ridiculous. I know you think you need to go away, and that’s fine. But to cut everyone off?

I’m not
, I told him.
We can talk as much as you want. I’m not cutting everyone off. I am asking for a chance to take a step on my own.

And round and round it went.

Until I left.

Those four words. He knew. Somehow, he knew. He always did.

I’ve had good days over the past four months. I’ve had bad days. I had one day, brought on by nothing more than a fleeting memory (a knock on the door and
she’s
there, saying,
Hi, Tyson! Hi, I’m here! I’ve missed you and I’m here!
) that caused me to seize up and struggle to breathe. There’s no bathtub in the apartment. It’s why I moved here.

I ended up under the bed that day. It passed, as these things do. Eventually, I could breathe.

Therapy helped. Now that I allowed it to. It’s easy to be told what my issues are. The hard part is finding a way to fix them.

It probably helped that I started to listen. Never underestimate the power of giving a shit. Trust me when I say it works wonders.

There’s no magical cure. There’s no sudden miracle where one day I’ll wake up and everything that’s plagued me will be a thing of the past. It doesn’t work that way. No matter how much I want it to. It just doesn’t happen. That’s life, though.

But there are ways to push through it. There are ways to beat it back.

I’m Tyson Thompson, formerly Tyson McKenna, aka the Kid. And I can beat anything.

But it’s easier when there’s someone like him waiting.

I talked to him almost every day. About nothing. And everything.

We made plans, though I don’t know if we understood we were making them.

At some point, the conversation changed from
I
to
we
.

That part never scared me, even when I became aware it was happening.

It’s inevitable, after all.

Kind of like him. Dom’s inevitable.

And it’s inevitable he’d show up here. In this place. This town, this apartment. My room.

He could only stay away for so long. I’m surprised he was able to last four months, to be honest. Tenacious, that one.

“Me,” he says from behind me, and I close my eyes because they burn. I close my eyes because I shake. I close my eyes not because I can’t breathe, but because it’s all I can do to keep from leaping up and jumping in his arms and telling him he can never let me go. That I’ve been gone long enough and he can never let me go.

But, of course, there’s an almost-naked roommate and a computer screen filled with family to contend with first. My life is so fucking weird.

Thank God for that.

“Holy shit,” Rob breathes. “You weren’t kidding about him. Does he have some kind of growth abnormality? Was he hit by gamma radiation? That can’t possibly be healthy.”

“If you want to live,” Corey tells him, “it’s probably a good idea that you run as fast as you can.”

“Ty?” I hear Bear ask worriedly.

I’m okay. I’m okay.

Because I am.

Things change. Goals. Dreams. Everything about who I am.

I’ll still conquer the world. You can bet your ass on that.

But for now, I think it needs to be me and him.

Me and Dom.

I open my eyes.

Everything is so bright. Like stars exploding.

Rob’s babbling about something. I turn my head.

Dom’s watching him with something akin to bemusement. He must feel my gaze on him because he looks over at me. The corner of his mouth curves up slightly. He shrugs just once and leans against the doorway, letting Rob talk himself into a deeper hole. Dom trusts me. He knows nothing happened here. Nor would anything happen.

“… and it’s not like I’m trying to
seduce
him or anything,” Rob is saying. He sounds hysterical. “I mean, he’s not even my
type
. What is he, two foot six? I like my guys big. Though not as big as you. How do you even fit through doors? Do you cause children to have nightmares? What was it like living on top of the beanstalk?”

“Rob,” I say.

He looks over at me. His eyes are wide. His towel is somehow still hanging on. “I don’t want to have sex with you!” he shouts.

“My life is so weird,” I mutter.

“How is this weird?” Bear asks. “I thought we were pretty normal.”

“Don’t you worry about it,” Otter tells him. “You’re the most normal thing there is.”

“That’s a big, fat lie,” Creed says.

“It really is,” Anna agrees. “Normal does not begin to describe us.”

“Well, I think this is pretty normal for us,” Corey says.

“Trust me when I say I’ve got you beat,” Sandy sighs. “The majority of you don’t know Paul in person.”

“Paul?” Bear asks. “Who’s that? Is that a friend of yours, Sandy? Do I get to meet him?”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Corey says.

“Why?”

“Because the world isn’t ready for such a cosmic revelation,” Sandy says. “It’s best to just wonder what could have been.”

“And because the monologuing back and forth would kill us all,” Corey says under his breath.

“What?” Bear asks sharply.

“Nothing,” Corey says, smiling wide.

I turn back to Dom. Rob’s gone. I didn’t even hear him go. It’s only Dom and me now. Well, almost. I’ll just ignore the six people on my computer screen behind me for now. I need to get my legs working again.

“You knew,” I say simply.

He nods.

“Aw,” Sandy and Corey sigh.

“How?” I ask, though I already know.

“I know you, Ty,” he says. Of course he does. And of course he knows. I just needed time. But it’s been long enough, I think. It’s time to make plans.

“So sweet,” Anna says with a sniff.

“I’m standing,” I tell him. “Not right this second. But… you know. I think I’m standing.”

Dom smiles. “That’s good.”

“This is so special,” Creed says in a fluttery voice. “Seriously. Is it weird for me to want to scream that you guys should kiss? Goddammit, Anna! Your pregnancy hormones are contagious!”

“What?” Bear asks. “Is that possible?” He sounds slightly panicked. “How in God’s name are we ever going to have a baby when the donor will keep infecting us with hormones?”

“Creed’s just being dramatic,” Otter reassures him. “They’re not contagious.”

“Watch out, Bear,” Creed says. “You’re going to find yourself crying for no reason and things like watching Dominic and Tyson fall for each other right in front of you will make you want to dance and sing and tell the world how much you love it and everyone in it.”

“I can’t dance!”

“Creed, you’re not helping,” Otter sighs.

“But it’s just so easy!”

“I’m going to have to
sing
?” Bear cries. “Have you
heard
my singing voice? I sound like a baby seal being clubbed with a bike horn!”

“That’s probably not the best analogy to use in the present company,” Corey says. “Ty’s a hippie, after all.”

The PETA rage descends. “Do you know how many baby seals are
murdered
each year, just so uppity bitches can wear…”

“And the romance is gone,” Creed says. “This is what I get for giving a shit about stuff like this. It’s all swoony and pretty and then it devolves into clubbing baby seals.”

“It’s still swoony and pretty,” Anna tells him.

“… and they have their seal skin
boots
, and they should be clubbed
themselves
…”

“Well, kind of,” she says.

“Tyson,” Otter says.

“What? Those poor
defenseless
animals who want nothing more than to enjoy a nice swim and a bit of fish!”

“Focus.”

Oh. Right. Dom’s here.
I turn back to him. He’s still in the doorway. He’s amused by me, as he always seems to be. My heart skips a couple of beats in my chest. It’s not the same, seeing him on the computer. Hearing his voice on the phone. It’s not the same as having him here. Within reach. If only I could get my legs to work.

“I’m making plans,” I tell him, as if he should know what I’m speaking of.

And yet, somehow, I think he does. “I thought you might.”

“Did you? I just started making them, I think. Maybe just right this second.”

“Good plans?”

“I think so.”

“What are they talking about?” Creed whispers from behind me.

“The language of love,” Sandy sighs.

“Gross,” Bear says. “Sort of.”

I think hard. “But we’ve been doing that this whole time, haven’t we?”

Dom nods. “Yeah.”

“You just waited for me to figure it out myself.”

“I knew you’d get there eventually.”

“How?”

“Because you’re you,” he says. “I just had to wait.”

“I’m sorry,” I say thickly. “That I made you wait again.”

“It doesn’t matter, Ty.”

“This is starting to feel uncomfortably intrusive,” Creed says. “I was just here for the surprise, but now it seems like things are about to get freaky.”

“Time to go,” Anna says.

“Why?” Bear demands. “What do you mean freaky?”

“We’re going to let them go,” Otter says. “To be alone.”

“Alone? Freaky? Wait.
Wait
. Does that mean they’re going to…. Otter, don’t you touch that computer! Tyson! You better be wearing condoms, you hear me? Wear two of them! It’s safer! It’s—”

By the grace of God, he’s cut off as the call is disconnected.

Dom shuts the door behind him.

“I was coming home,” I tell him.

“I know,” he says. He takes a step toward me.

“I was going to keep my promise.”

“I know.” Another step.

“I found something. With you.”

“Did you?” Another step.

“Yes. I think….”

“What?” One more step. He towers above me. He’s all I can see. “What do you think?”

And for the first time, I say the words I’ve wanted to believe for so long. “I think I’m going to be okay.”

He smiles. “Finally.”

“Maybe not all the way,” I warn him.

“But close enough.” He reaches out and takes my hands in his. Pulls me up. Wraps his arms around me. I breathe him in.

“This isn’t going to be easy,” I say. “Some days might suck.”