Page 4 of When I'm Gone

Oh, hell. I already know I won’t like the answer but I ask it anyway. “What do you mean by he didn’t take it well?”

He flinches. “Called me some names. I guess he told the football team because they’ve been giving me a hard time. Shoving me around and stuff. It’s all my fault. I thought it was harmless. It was just a portrait. Now, he’s told me that his dad is on the school board and he’s going to take it to the principal. Say I was manipulating him and he feels violated. That I was preying on him with my friendship.”

Tears are rolling down his flushed cheeks but he doesn’t wipe them away. Like he thinks he deserves to feel as much pain as possible about this. I can’t stand it anymore. I wrap an arm around him and his head falls on my shoulder.

Brady may be dead. Either that or he has much more restraint than I’ve ever given him credit for. He really wants me to take the lead on this.

What really makes me feel like an ass is that I can remember sometime early last week when Brady got a phone call while we were watching TV on his laptop. He had answered, and I remember thinking whoever had called him sounded upset, but he’d stepped out before I could hear anything detailed. When he came back in, he was rain-damp and had a brittle smile glued on his face.

I’d asked him if he was okay, of course. But he brushed me off and said he was just overdue for a trip back to Florida, that he was homesick.

I believed him. Didn’t even give it a second thought.

Fuck, I’m such an idiot.

I tighten my grip on Easton while brushing his corn silk hair away from his face with my other hand. Desperately, I wish for the perfect thing to say. The one thing that could mend the break in his heart. I’m not quite dumb enough to really believe that exists, but I damn sure wish it did.

After a few minutes, he calms down, and I’m still trying to string my thoughts into something coherent. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

“Sorry for what?”

He gestures vaguely at himself from head to toe. “You didn’t ask for all this mess.”

Christ, how I hate that broken tone in his voice. “Neither did you, Eas. There’s nothing inherently wrong about having a crush. You didn’t mislead him, you didn’t force anything on him. He saw something that was supposed to be private and didn’t like that he had something to do with it. He’s allowed to feel that, but that doesn’t mean he can call you names, or stand by while his friends bully you in retribution.”

He does not seem convinced. He shrugs and kicks his feetback and forth in the pool without looking up. “Now, I’ve got to tell my parents before the school calls them.”

“Tell them the situation or…?” I trail off, hoping that he says it. I can tell he needs to.

“Both. I haven’t told anyone. Brady knows, but not because I’ve said it. He just does.”

Pulling teeth, getting him to say this out loud. “He knows what?” He finally looks up to glare at me. “It’ll help if you say it to someone before the people you really care about. Besides, I don’t think your first time should be when you’re explaining why a kid in your class thinks you’re a predator.”

He rolls his eyes before looking away. His throat starts working, like it’s causing him actual pain to say the two words he knows I’m looking for. About eighty percent of this conversation, I’m sure I’ve screwed up, but this I’m sure of. He needs to say it, even to a relative stranger.

“I’m gay.”

CHAPTER 1

EASTON- CURRENT DAY

Please, just leave me alone,I beg silently. The keys jingling in the lock sends an involuntary shiver up my spine. He’s mad. I made him look bad tonight. It wasn’t like I could help it, my violently throbbing head and sick stomach made the call for me. But he’s so worried about looking bad in front of his clients. I didn’t want him to look bad; I swear I didn’t. I doubt me showing up in sunglasses shaking and soaked in sweat from the fever would have made a better impression than him showing up without me.

I feel so fucking awful, I just want to sleep. Squeezing my eyes shut, I start counting backwards from one hundred. As long as he thinks I’m already passed out, I should be okay. Just please?—

“Doll,” he bellows, making me cringe.

Don’t move, don’t breathe, don’t react.

The overhead lights turn on, making a wave of nausea almost take me out. I keep it at bay, but only just. He’s definitely not going to let me pretend to be asleep. The bed dips with his weight as he all but falls into place next to me.

“I know you’re not asleep, doll. Did you miss me tonight?”His words are slurred which means he’s already had a fuck ton to drink.

I roll over slowly, hoping to not aggravate my currently delicate state, and squint in his direction. The light is burning my eyes but he doesn’t notice. “Of course I did,” I answer automatically. I know it’s what he wants to hear, there’s no way I can tell him I was grateful to have a few hours alone. He gives me everything and I can’t sound ungrateful.

“You little fucking liar,” he drawls.

Goddamn it. “Aaron?—”

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