Page 37 of Painted

Early just shook their head. With any luck, their mum would understand one day. They weren’t entirely certain they understood themself. The only thing they could do right then, in that moment, was to make a sweep of their bedroom, gathering up everything from the life they’d once had that they wanted to take into their life going forward and packing it into the suitcase.

“Are you even listening to me, Earl?” their mum demanded as they took a few items of clothing that they still liked from their wardrobe and folded them into the suitcase.

“I’m listening,” they said. “But I am who I am, not who you keep trying to get me to be. It’s not about understanding it, it’s about loving me enough to accept me as I am.”

They smiled unexpectedly as they said that. Maybe Robert was right after all and they did know who they were. At least, they were certain they knew who they weren’t.

“This has gone on long enough,” their mum said with a sigh as they finished piling things into their suitcase. “I’m calling your dad. He can be home within an hour. You’re not going anywhere until he’s had a chat with you.”

“Sorry, Mum,” Early said, zipping their suitcase, then giving their room one final look.

They were certain there were a dozen things and more that they really needed or wanted to take with them into whatever life happened next for them, but there wasn’t time to turn everything upside down or space to pack it all in. It was symbolic, really. They couldn’t take it all, they could only take what really mattered to them.

“Earl?” their mum asked as they lifted their suitcase and carried it out of the room and down the stairs.

“I’ll be in touch,” they called back over their shoulder as they walked on and opened the front door. “I’ll be at Hawthorne House. You can always find me there. I definitely don’t mind if you want to come visit me, but you need to do it on my terms.”

“And just what is that supposed to mean?” his mum asked, stepping out of the house with them and looking anxious as she did.

Early stopped on the sidewalk in front of the house, sucking in a deep breath of what felt like fresh, clean air, despite the threat of rain in it. “My name is Early,” they said. “I don’t knowwho I am yet, not really, but it’s up to me to find out. I might make some mistakes while I do that, but they’ll be my mistakes.”

“Really,” his mum tutted, as if they’d spoken in gibberish.

“I love you, Mum,” they said with a surprisingly easy smile, then turned to head back down to the bus stop.

It was like a weight lifted off their shoulders. They still felt like complete rubbish where Rhys was concerned. One step in the right direction was only one step. But it was a step they’d taken instead of a step they knew they needed to take someday.

Someday was there, and the rest of their life waited beyond it.

ELEVEN

It wasthe worst weekend on record. Rhys spent the whole of it haunted by the way he’d lost control where the fundraiser was concerned. Even more than that, he was twisted up over the way he’d treated Early. Snapping at them because of a jumper was a definite low for him.

He didn’t get a chance to apologize by the end of Thursday. After classes, he’d retreated to his flat to make what amounted to a lavish, apology supper. But Early didn’t show up. Rhys had waited, letting the food get cold, then gone out in search of them.

“They’ve gone out with Rebecca,” Nally told him after a good fifteen minutes of searching, as his worry reached towering heights.

“Oh,” he said, shame and disappointment weighing heavily on him. “They didn’t say when they’d come back, did they?”

Nally stared flatly at him. He even crossed his arms. “You yell at Early in the hall, in front of people, because of a jumper, and now you expect them to come running back to you, all full of forgiveness and light? Why would that be, exactly?”

His little brother was right, but Rhys didn’t appreciate the sass at all. Even if he deserved it.

“Alright, I get it,” he said. “I was wrong and now I’m paying the price for it.”

The trouble was, Nally didn’t know how wrong he was. It wasn’t about a jumper at all. It was about the fact that he’d jumped Early without talking things through because he was horny. That was a far bigger sin than losing his temper in an emotional moment.

He went back up to his flat and ate a cold supper, then flopped around, watching stupid shows on the telly, staring at the door to his flat the entire time.

He’d finally given up and gone to bed after midnight, but he’d slept with one ear open, waiting for Early to return.

They never did. Not Friday night, not Saturday, and not Sunday. At least, they didn’t return to his flat.

“They and Rebecca got back late Saturday morning,” Robbie told him around lunchtime on Saturday. “My guess is that they’re both sleeping off a fun night.”

“Yeah, probably,” Rhys said.

He wanted to stick around to catch Early coming out of Rebecca’s flat, but something told him that loitering in the hallway and stalking his sister’s door wasn’t a good look for him. Besides, he’d already told a few of his friends he’d go on a bike ride with them that afternoon.

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