Something Like Spring (11 page)

Everything leading to this moment—every dream, wish, and fantasy—cracked and shattered. Reality returned, leaving him all too aware of what he’d done. This wasn’t a love story. He had crept into some guy’s room, and while he honestly wasn’t going to kiss Caesar, no one would ever believe that. Invasion of privacy, of personal space. The breaking of trust, the appearance of sexual assault. Jason had committed so many social transgressions that it made his head spin.

Sitting up on both knees, he tried to find an expression that showed he understood what he had done. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice cracking.

Caesar studied him, propped up on one elbow. Was he deciding what to do? Trying to find some suitable punishment?

“Jason,” he said.

The lips shaping his name caused emotions to stir. So messed up! So lost! But Jason couldn’t help himself. From the nightstand, the phone shook with a half-second buzz. Caesar’s jaw clenched. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were angry.

“Go back to your room,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” Jason said, pushing himself off the bed.

“Just go!” Caesar rolled over, turned his back to him and covered his head with his arms like a man protecting himself from a beating. Jason stared for a moment longer before he abandoned stealth and hurried back to his room. Once there, he shut the door, wishing it had a lock. Since it didn’t, he sat with his back to it, working hard to fight off the tears that wanted to make the night even more humiliating. He’d been stupid. Just like before.

No. That wasn’t true. This was worse, because unlike before, Jason didn’t want to give up. He still wanted to run down that hall, find the words to make everything right. But he knew nothing he could say or do would help. Only one option remained, a familiar path that he had walked before. As Jason sat in the dark of his room, he promised himself this would be the last time.

Jason needed an idea. One that would get him sent back to the group home today. Sure he could call Michelle, tell her he wanted to leave. Or he could say as much to the Hubbards, scream and shout that he hated them and wanted to go. But such methods often didn’t work, as Jason had discovered early on. People would mistake his acting out as a cry for help, assaulting him with tedious questions and well-meaning speeches. No, if he wanted to ensure the speediest exit, he would have to make himself a threat to the rest of the family. Like the stunt where he’d set the shower curtain on fire. How could anyone sleep while wondering if he’d burn down the house?

During breakfast, he kept his eyes open for any opportunity. Food fight? Too tame. A butter knife at Amy’s throat? Ugh. That might work, but Jason still had to live with himself. He needed an idea that scared people, not traumatized them. By the end of the meal, he still didn’t have anything, but at least Caesar hadn’t shown up at the table.

Jason was at the front door and wearing his backpack when he remembered the guns in Mr. Hubbard’s closet. If he grabbed one, sat on the stairs and refused to go anywhere… that would probably do it. Maybe he could point the gun at himself, get thrown into a mental hospital. Hell, maybe they could fix him while he was there.

“Ready to go?” Peter asked, joining him in the entryway.

Jason was going to say no, march into the closet to begin his ploy, but then Caesar appeared at the top of the stairs and it was too much. Jason needed to get away from him, escape the shame and pain. He was out the door and down the sidewalk so fast that Peter had to run to catch up with him.

“Hey! Slow down! What’s going on?”

Jason ignored Peter’s questions. Why bother playing nice with any of the Hubbards now? Especially when he was so close to leaving.

“I told you that guy is a jerk,” Peter continued. “What did he do?”

Jason shook his head, stomping along the pavement. In the back of his mind, he worried about damaging the shoes Caesar had given him. Such insane thoughts wouldn’t end until he got away from here permanently.

From behind he heard an engine roaring, a silver spaceship pulling up alongside him. Jason refused to look. When he heard the hum of a window rolling down and a voice telling him to get in the car, he picked up the pace.

The engine of Caesar’s car growled as it launched down the street and stopped. The red brake lights were joined by white before it started to reverse at a frightening speed. Jason thought Caesar intended to run him over. The rear of the car swerved toward him, but ended up pulling into a driveway just ahead. When the car stopped, the passenger door was lined up perfectly with the sidewalk. Jason stopped in his tracks.

The door opened, Caesar ducking slightly to be seen. He fixed Jason with an angry glare. “Get in the fucking car!”

Why? So Caesar could tell him off? Demand an apology? Take him somewhere to kick his ass? Such things would hurt on many different levels, but maybe that’s what it would take to get Jason to stop screwing up like this.

He took a step forward, but Peter grabbed his arm. “Let’s go,” he said. “We can take the bus.”

Caesar redirected his anger. “You want a ride, Peter? Hop in. Come on! What are you so scared of?”

“I’m not scared of anything!” Peter shouted. “You better leave or I’ll tell Mom you almost ran us over!”

“It’s fine,” Jason said, pulling his arm free. “Walk to school or take the bus without me. I don’t care.”

He got into Caesar’s car, glancing out the window as he shut the door and noticing the accusation on Peter’s face. Not that it would matter. The car lurched, pulling back onto the street.

“What were you doing in my room last night?” Caesar asked, still sounding angry.

“Nothing,” Jason said. “I wasn’t going to do anything. I was just pretending.”

“Pretending?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“It looked like you were going to—”

“I wouldn’t have,” Jason said. “Believe whatever you want, but I wouldn’t have.”

The car was silent as they pulled out of the neighborhood and into a busy street. Jason kept his attention on the traffic instead of the driver, waiting for the insults to start. The silence was driving him crazy, so he reached for the stereo. Even Caesar’s hip-hop was better than this. His finger only brushed the power button before Caesar knocked it away.

“We need to talk,” he said.

“No, we don’t!” Jason said. “I can imagine everything you could possibly say. You don’t think I know how fucked up I am? I don’t need you to tell me that! Save your breath. It won’t happen again because I’m leaving.”

“What?”

“I’ll be gone tonight. You won’t see me again.”

The car swerved, one tire going up and over a curb as the vehicle screeched to a halt. Jason’s heart was pounding, the blood draining from his face as he looked over for an explanation. Caesar’s jaw clenched as he unbuckled the seatbelt, but his eyes… Oh hell, his eyes! Those slices of amber were on him in a way Jason had imagined more than once while biting his lip in bed. Caesar brought his face near, and Jason decided that even if he was mistaken, if some horrible violence was about to happen instead, that it would be worth this one happy delusion.

Caesar grabbed Jason’s head with both his hands, stared hard to make sure his intent was known. Doubt ceased to exist. Jason felt like crying for joy, almost did as he closed his eyes and felt those lips touch his own. He wasn’t passive. He didn’t let this moment pass with any uncertainty or hesitation. His fingers sought Caesar’s hair, kept him close as his lips tried to make up for their complete lack of experience. At least Caesar seemed to know what to do, constantly adjusting for Jason’s clumsiness, air huffing from his nostrils as his tongue slipped inside Jason’s mouth.

From behind them a car honked impatiently, breaking the spell. Caesar released him, Jason unwillingly doing the same. The car zoomed around them with a parting honk. Jason could have killed the driver if anger hadn’t fled his body so completely. He grinned and started laughing when Caesar did the same.

“Can we try that again?” Jason asked.

“Yes. But not now.”

Caesar put the car into drive and pulled back onto the street. A block later, he turned left into a neighborhood and parked along the curb. Then he looked at Jason and shook his head. “You’re not leaving.” This was a statement rather than a question.

“I thought I had to.”

“Yeah,” Caesar said after a moment. “I can figure out why you’d think that. But now you don’t need to. I’m cool with this. From that kiss, I’m guessing you are too.”

Jason wanted another, but there was so much he needed to know. “I thought you were— I mean, you and Steph…”

“I like guys,” Caesar said without hesitation. “That’s not a secret. You could have asked.”

“You could have told me,” Jason retorted. “I’m gay, by the way”

“I kind of figured that out.”

“Just now, or—”

“Last night,” Caesar said. “I suspected before then, but hope and reality can get tangled up, if you know what I mean.”

Jason definitely did, but he didn’t care about any of that now. All he wanted was to explore this new possibility. He wanted to spend the entire day with Caesar, ask him a million questions, give him twice as many kisses. “Let’s skip school,” he said. “Go have some fun.”

Caesar appeared amused but shook his head. “The last thing I want now is us getting in trouble. You can make it through a day of school.”

“And afterwards?” Jason asked.

“Afterwards it’ll just be me and you. I promise. Until then…” Caesar leaned forward, his lips so near that Jason could feel his breath when he spoke next, “here’s a little something to tide you over.”

This time Jason didn’t close his eyes.

* * * * *

At the end of fifth period, Jason went to his locker, but only because he’d met Caesar there before. Sure enough, as he was arranging books for the sake of appearing busy, a hand appeared atop the locker door, a face to the side of it.

“After school, right?” Caesar said. “You haven’t forgotten?”

Jason considered him and smirked. “Are you that insecure about your kissing abilities?”

He’d said it louder than he intended, not really thinking of the consequences, but Caesar didn’t seem concerned. “Insecure? No. I was worried my epic make-out skills had rendered you nearly comatose.”

“I did nearly pass out,” Jason admitted. He considered those lips for a moment. “Where are we going? Straight home, or…?”

“Wait and see,” Caesar said, pushing away from the row of lockers and strutting down the hall. “Don’t stand me up!” he called over his shoulder.

Heart racing, Jason walked to his next class in a daze. He wished he had a manual about all of this, detailing what the next step would be, how dating worked, and of course sex. Maybe that was something most people learned from their parents, although the idea of Mrs. Hubbard lecturing him on the pros and cons of oral stimulation didn’t sound appealing.

Class was just beginning when someone knocked on the door. He watched with disinterest as the teacher went to answer it, paying more attention when the teacher spoke his name.

“Mr. Grant, you’re needed in the front office. Take your things with you.”

Jason felt awkward as he left the room, every head turning to watch him. Once alone in the hallway, he was free to wonder what was going on. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Not unless Caesar was bugged and the kiss had been a sting operation. He laughed at the idea, taking it more seriously when he remembered their conversation before class. He supposed another student could have overheard and… What? Rushed to the principle to report two dudes had talked about kissing? That couldn’t be it.

Jason didn’t know what he’d find when he reached the office. He certainly didn’t expect to see a tall woman with long blondish-brown hair standing there. Jason recognized her even before she turned around.

“Michelle!”

“He remembers me,” she said with a smile.

“What are you doing here?”

“And yet he forgot our appointment.” Michelle scowled at him a little too intently to be serious, her head casually gesturing to the office staff behind her.

“Oh, yeah,” Jason said, catching on. “Sorry. You know I can’t keep my days straight.”

“That’s why you’ve got me.” Michelle adjusted the purse strap on her shoulder. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah!”

They were quiet as they left, not speaking until they were a safe distance down the hall.

“It hasn’t been two weeks already, has it?” he asked. Caseworkers always followed up to see how things were going in a new foster placement, but not this quickly. And they certainly never pulled him out of class.

“My mom used to do this,” Michelle said. “She’d show up at our school unexpectedly, call my brother and me to the office for a dentist appointment or some other excuse, and then she’d take us out for ice cream. We used to love when that happened.”

“So you’re taking me out for ice cream?” Jason asked.

“Sure! Why not?”

He stopped. “I’m not a little kid. You’re trying to soften the blow. I just don’t know what went wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Michelle said, immediately reconsidering her words. “Nothing important, I’m sure. Your foster mom asked for this meeting.”

Jason’s stomach sank. Somehow he didn’t think Mrs. Hubbard wanted to discuss adopting him just yet.

“She didn’t sound upset,” Michelle said. “Just concerned. All a normal part of adjusting. Unless you can think of anything in particular.”

Jason shook his head as they continued walking before he realized what this was about. “Church. She wants me to go, and I keep refusing.”

“Ah.” He waited for Michelle to judge him, to tell him what he should do, but she didn’t seem concerned. “So, McDonald’s for a milkshake? Or Baskin-Robbins for some real ice cream?”

“McDonald’s,” Jason said. “French fries dipped in a vanilla shake. There’s nothing better.”

“How could I forget?” Michelle asked, holding open the door for him.

He blinked in the brightness of the day, afternoon sun gleaming off a silver sports car in the parking lot. “I was supposed to meet someone!” Jason said. “After school.”