Something Like Spring (12 page)

Michelle shook her head. “Sorry. One way or another, your plans would have been canceled. Mrs. Hubbard said she would pick you up after school. I told her I’d fetch you on the way over. My early arrival needs to remain a secret.”

“Yeah, but…” Jason stared at Caesar’s car, feeling the potential fade away. Those jokes about him standing up Caesar would now become reality. Jason slipped off his backpack and dug around in it. “I need to leave a note.”

“Okay.”

He walked to Caesar’s car, spreading out a notebook-sized piece of paper on the hood. The empty white space intimidated as he tried to decide what to write. Eventually he settled on “See you at home. Sorry.” After adding his name, he resisted the urge to draw a little heart.

“So you’ve made a friend?” Michelle asked, watching as he folded the paper and pinned it beneath a windshield wiper.

“Sort of,” Jason said. “He’s one of the Hubbards.”

“One of your foster brothers?” she asked.

“Yeah, but he’s not my brother.”

This didn’t seem to faze Michelle. She turned her face skyward as they walked to her car. “Feels so good. Of course, when summer rolls around I’ll hate the sun, but right now it’s heavenly.”

“It is,” Jason agreed.

Once in her car and on the road, Michelle asked him how he was faring in his new placement. Unwilling to talk about his feelings for Caesar, Jason found he didn’t have much to say. He focused mostly on his birthday and how amazing it had been, which seemed to make her happy.

They were sitting outside at one of the McDonald’s playground tables, Jason dunking a salty fry into his shake, when Michelle became more direct. “I wanted us to have a chance to talk openly,” she said. “Whatever you want, I’m on your side. If you don’t want to go to church, you don’t have to. I’ll argue your case, but what I really want to know is if you want to stay. Is it working out with the Hubbards, or…”

“Or am I about to pull one of my stunts,” Jason said. It seemed crazy that just this morning he’d been planning to. Amazing how much could change in so little time. He thought of that kiss in Caesar’s car and wanted more. “I’ll stay,” Jason said. “At least, if it’s still an option.”

This obviously wasn’t the answer Michelle was expecting, but she nodded. “Is there something else going on? Mrs. Hubbard could have talked about the church issue over the phone with me.”

Jason swallowed a cream-soaked fry and smiled. “You don’t know her very well, do you?”

“You’re the first kid I’ve placed with that family,” Michelle admitted.

“Then maybe you’ll need me to defend you, instead of vice versa.”

“That bad?”

“Total control freak,” Jason said.

Michelle considered him, shaking her head as he dipped and devoured a couple more fries. “That really is disgusting.”

“Want to try it?”

Michelle raised a critical eyebrow, but then nodded. “Absolutely.”

Jason swirled a fry around until it was coated and then held it out to her. “Open wide!”

* * * * *

“Religious freedom is covered in the training program that both you and Mr. Hubbard completed in—” Michelle checked the folder she was holding. Jason watched, amused that she was in full-on lawyer mode. Sure she was sitting on the living room couch next to him and not pacing before a jury, but the expression the Hubbards wore implied they were on trial. “—nineteen-ninety six. I understand that was a long time ago, and taking a refresher course is optional, but I can tell you now that Jason isn’t required to attend any church or religious service unless he wants to.”

Mrs. Hubbard pressed her lips together so tightly that the blood fled them, leaving them white.

“We’re really not asking much,” Mr. Hubbard said. “An hour every Sunday, that’s all.”

“I agree,” Michelle said. “An hour isn’t much, which is why I don’t understand why he can’t stay at home for that time.”

“The issue goes deeper than church,” Mrs. Hubbard said, eyes narrowed. They softened somewhat when she turned her attention to him. “Jason, we get the impression that you don’t really want to be a part of this family. You’ll watch television with us, but that’s such a passive activity. Aside from walking with Peter to school every morning, how do you engage yourself with us?”

Besides sneaking into your son’s room and trying to steal a kiss?
Jason couldn’t say that, but he did feel safe mentioning their activities outside the house, which he did.

“That’s very nice,” Mrs. Hubbard said, “but what about the rest of us? Have you played with Amy recently or spent time on the computer with Peter? I’m sure Carrie would love to see a movie with you.”

He doubted that was true. Carrie hadn’t shown the slightest interest in him. “I hadn’t thought of that,” he said. “I guess I’m still adjusting to living here.”

“We understand that—” Mr. Hubbard said, but his wife cut him off.

“Other children didn’t need so long. Peter and Amy became part of the family in the first few days. We gave you a wonderful birthday and everything, but you’re still fighting us!”

“Everyone adjusts differently,” Michelle said calmly, but she was repeatedly tapping the file folder against her leg.

Mrs. Hubbard repeated her position. “Church is about spending time together. Say we went to a restaurant you weren’t fond of, or a movie. We’d still expect you to come along, simply because we want you to be a part of this family. If you don’t want that, then maybe you should tell us now.”

There it was. An ultimatum. If you want to stay here, you’ll go to church. Simple as that. No matter what Michelle said, that was the deal. Maybe they wouldn’t openly state the reason for sending him away later, but they would find some other pretense.

Jason heard the front door open, saw Caesar poke his head in the living room and take in the scene before making a face of mock terror. Then he retreated. If Jason was sent back to the group home, dating Caesar would become much more difficult. Jason didn’t have a car, and not all foster placements were in Houston. Even if Caesar were willing to pick him up from time to time, they wouldn’t see each other every day. Not like they did now.

From next to him, Michelle stopped tapping the file and huffed. “Mrs. Hubbard—”

“I didn’t think of it like that,” Jason interrupted. “I know you tried explaining it to me before, but I didn’t understand. Now that I do, I’d be happy to go to church with you.”

Michelle turned to him in transparent disbelief, but he ignored her. Mrs. Hubbard remained skeptical too.

“Do you mean that, Jason?”

He nodded. “I’m not used to being wanted. Sometimes the idea scares me. That’s silly, I know, but…”

“It’s not silly,” Mrs. Hubbard said, the ice leaving her voice. “You’re wanted here! This is your home!”

Jason hadn’t seen his home since Child Protective Services took him away from his mother, but he smiled as if relieved anyway. Michelle went through some formalities next, her tones much more muted. He felt guilty about that but hid his feelings until he was walking Michelle to her car. Even then he kept his back to the house so his face couldn’t be seen.

“Thanks for throwing me to the wolves,” Michelle said, looking more puzzled than angry.

“I know,” Jason said. “I’m sorry. The thing is, I want to stay here, and me sitting through some boring sermon for an hour every week is a small price to pay.”

“You don’t have to,” Michelle said. “Foster care is never about changing yourself to please anyone.”

“I won’t change. I promise. I’ll wear earplugs while in church or something.”

Michelle remained tense. “Well, if you have second thoughts and need someone to fight for you, I wouldn’t mind another go at Mrs. Hubbard.”

“She’s a lot of fun, huh?”

“None of my other kids will be coming here,” Michelle said, quickly adding, “which is totally unprofessional of me to say in front of you, so please forget I did.”

Jason wanted to tell her that things between them didn’t need to be professional, that she could swing by anytime and hang out with him if she wanted to, but he imagined that would probably make her feel uncomfortable or obligated. Instead he stood there with his hands in his pockets as she unlocked the car door.

“Still have my number?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Don’t be afraid to use it.”

He watched as she pulled out and away, allowing himself a sigh before he put on a fake smile and went back inside to be part of the family. Doing dishes with mom, playing dolls with Amy, and sitting next to Peter while he played on the computer. Everything but what he actually wanted to do. Maybe at night, when the house had fallen silent, he would finally be free to take that journey down the hallway again.

* * * * *

Jason gently knocked on the door, wincing at how loud his soft raps seemed to echo through the silent house. He turned to make sure no bedroom lights had switched on, and ended up banging his guitar against the wall. He was still grimacing when Caesar opened the door.

“Not exactly stealthy.”

“Sorry,” Jason replied.

Caesar jerked his head, signaling that he should enter. Jason did, noticing the room was tidier than usual, a candle lit on the side table. Casual, but still suggestive. He fought down a feeling of panic as he sat on the bed.

“Here to play me a song?” Caesar asked.

Jason nodded but left the guitar where it was—resting between his legs. He watched Caesar expectantly, taking in the muscle shirt hanging off the bare skin of his shoulders, and hoped for proof that this morning wasn’t a fluke or a delusion. Caesar picked up on this, chuckling before rewarding Jason with a kiss. His breath tasted minty fresh, implying that he had done the same as Jason and made sure his teeth were brushed.

“So what was all that downstairs?” Caesar asked, sitting on the bed next to him. “Standard check-up or trouble?”

Jason rolled his eyes. “You’re looking at Houston’s newest altar boy.”

“My parents aren’t Catholic,” Caesar said after a pause, “but I think I catch your drift. Mom’s pressuring you to go to church.”

“It’s that or pack my bags,” Jason said.

If Caesar found this surprising, he didn’t say so. “So that’s it? Your smoking hot caseworker came here to make sure you go to church?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Jason said, but he found himself distracted by the implications. “You really think she’s hot?”

“Yeah! I don’t know if she has kids or not, but MILF!”

Jason cocked an eyebrow, not that it could be seen behind his bangs. “So you and Steph, that’s not an act?”

Caesar shook his head. “I’m bisexual. I like girls.” He reached over and tugged on Jason’s earlobe. “And I like guys.”

“How does that work?” Jason asked. “I mean, when you get married or whatever, what do you do about the part of you that wants something else?”

“It’s called restraint,” Caesar said. “The part that wants to wander is always there, even for straight people. But commitment is commitment. Once I sign on the dotted line, I’ll devote myself to that person only.”

“I think I have a pen around here somewhere,” Jason said, patting his pajama bottoms like they had pockets.

Caesar grinned. “Save it for Vegas.” Then he grew more somber. “Listen, whatever this turns out to be, we’re going to have to play it carefully.”

Jason swallowed. “Your parents?”

“Exactly. I’m not a closet case or anything. My mom knows. She doesn’t really like it, but she knows. If she found out that my brother and I—”

“Don’t call me that,” Jason said. “Even as a joke. It’s creepy.”

“Yeah, okay. Anyway, I think she’d find it even more offensive than you not attending church.”

Jason nodded. “What about your dad? Does he know?”

“Yeah. I’m sure he does, but we’ve never talked about it. You might want to play straight while you’re at home, just so they don’t draw their own conclusions.”

Jason shrugged. He didn’t care if the Hubbards knew the real him or not. “What about school?”

“What about it? You want to go to the prom with me or something?”

“Yeah,” Jason said defiantly. “I do.”

“Fine, but you have to convince me to ask you.” Caesar flopped onto his back.

Jason’s stomach felt tense. Was he supposed to… “Convince you how?” he asked with a dry mouth, which certainly wouldn’t make this any easier. In the corner of his eye, he could see the dark hair on Caesar’s legs, the boxers that probably didn’t cover much, not that he’d let himself look.

“You can start by playing me a song.”

Jason nearly exhaled in relief. Instead he picked up the guitar and strummed it gently, creating a lazy sort of sound a cowboy and horse might mosey along to. He smiled when this made Caesar laugh, picking up the pace and adding a bit more oomph as the imaginary horse broke into a gallop. Getting into the music, Jason paused to pull off his shirt so he could feel the instrument against his chest. Then he played more seriously, plucking out
Every Breath You Take
by the Police. Stripped of its lyrics, the song sounded playful and optimistic, and less like a stalker’s anthem. Not that he was one to judge.

At the end of the song, he transitioned to freestyle tunes, letting his hands move almost of their own accord as he slowly lost himself in the sound. When he felt fingers touching his back, he seized up. Caesar’s hand slid around to his ribs and tried to pull him backward.

“Wait, my guitar,” Jason said, setting it down, but he didn’t make an effort to lie down afterwards.

Caesar responded by scooting next to him and kissing his neck, shoulder, chin, and lips. Finding himself in somewhat more familiar territory, Jason threw himself into that kiss, nearly reaching the same blissful state he did when playing music. Caesar stroked the top of his hand, taking hold of it and moving it to his lap. Jason felt flannel boxers, something warm and hard beneath them.

“Uh,” he said, pulling his hand away.

“Something wrong?” Caesar asked.

“No.” Jason’s cheeks were burning. All of this was too soon. Not that he didn’t want to! That wasn’t the problem. He just wanted it not to be the first time. If he could somehow skip over that initial awkwardness, be skillful and confident so he could impress Caesar…