Page 43 of Secret Hudson

“Hey.”

“Do you know what day today is?”

I have no fucking clue.

“Well, it’s my mother’s birthday.” She giggles. Not a happy giggle, but the kind she gets when she knows she’s saying the exact opposite of what she means. Like she’s laughing at her own joke or something.

“Tell her I said happy birthday?” I laugh too. Partially because I’m nervous and partially because Ava’s expression is ridiculous.

“I will. Thanks. But that’s not what makes today so important.”

“No?”

“No.” She glances down and for the first time I realize she’s holding something in her hand. A piece of paper or something. “Eight years ago today, I walked out of my mother’s kitchen after watching her slip and fall because she was too drunk to walk straight, landing smack dab in the cake I had baked her. I left my house that morning, determined to find the final member we needed to complete Finding Nolan because I was desperate to get out of that life and away from my mother.” Her eyes are steady on mine now. “It wasn’t until after our last class, when I saw you walking out to the parking lot that it hit me. You were the one we were looking for. We needed you.”

So maybe I had clue. I just didn’t ever consider that today would be significant for anyone other than me.

Ava goes on, “You changed my life that day, Royce Lemmi. And not just because you turned three guys goofing off in a garage into a real band, but because of the friend you’ve been to me from that moment on. You stood by me, during the hardest time in my life. You could have judged me. You could have quit on me. So many times, you should have hated me. But you didn’t. You wouldn’t.”

The liquid glass that lines her eyes starts spilling out, running down her cheeks. “I love you, Royce. I love you for so many wonderful reasons, but Hudson said I could only pick one tonight.” Her lip curves up into a half grin in spite of the tears. “So, this is it.” She brings up the paper in her hands and turns it over. It isn’t a piece of paper at all. It’s a picture. Of me. She’s there too. But I’m definitely the focal point.

“This is the Royce I see when I look at you. The man with the best, sickest, most inappropriate, most outstanding sense of humor. The only one I know, who’s guaranteed to laugh at every bad and tasteless joke I make. And a girl needs a man like that in her life.”

I hate seeing pictures of myself. Ava knows that. Which is why she continually raises it up while she speaks until it blocks out her entire face and leaves me with nothing to do but see the man staring back at me. He’s laughing. Really laughing. So is she. And I remember exactly where we were and what we were laughing at. And she’s right. The joke was hugely inappropriate. Even Blaise had shaken his head and walked away shunning her in shame. Not me. God, I laughed for so long my sides hurt. Not uncommon for me and Ava though.

Except now. Laughing is the furthest thing from my mind as Hudson moves me a few steps over to see Blaise.

“I swear, I’m not going to cry. Just gonna put that out there right now.” He jokes. Sort of. “Nearly two months ago, I had the chance to return a favor. To repay a debt. A debt, which honestly, I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to repay. I thought for sure, I would owe you for the rest of my life. And I was okay with that. Until I walked into that room and saw you. Saw you and recognized in you what I had felt way back then. And immediately, all I wanted, was to find a way to be the kind of friend to you, that you’ve been to me.”

Blaise’s voice is oddly shaken, and I have an unnerving feeling that his promise not to shed tears is on the verge of being broken. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, thanking every force of the universe working in my favor, that I don’t have to speak.

“You were there for me when I was completely broken. You showed up, even after I pushed away the one person who had fought the hardest to stay. You listened. You understood. You shared. You supported me. And then you fucking set me straight.” With slightly less grace, Blaise flips over his picture and holds it square in my face.

“I fucking love you, Royce Lemmi. And if I have to choose one thing I love the most, I choose your honesty. Because it’s rare to find someone, who will not only be blunt with you about your shortcomings, but who will be just as willing to admit his own. It’s even more unusual when you meet someone, who is capable of using that same honesty to not only see, but then also express every redeeming quality he’s discovered in you with the genuine hope that you then may find it for yourself. You are that person. And today, I want to be that person, too. So, take a good look. This is the man I see when I’m standing face to face with you.”

I swallow hard, grateful for the fact that I’m not under the spotlight. The image Blaise wants me to see, is of the two of us. We were sitting at the table on the bus. It could have been one of a million different moments, only it wasn’t. Blaise got a call from his dad that day and it stirred up a shitstorm of unpleasant memories for him. We sat there together almost the entire drive as we traveled from one state to the next while he fought with himself and his past. And I listened. I shared. Done my best to support him. And then, I set him straight.

I’m still barely wrapping my head around the whole conversation, when I find myself standing in front of Angel.

“How you holdin’ up there, Royce? Still good?” He leans in closer and whispers, “’Cause, I’m not gonna lie, I’m havinga hard time keeping it together. So, if you could go ahead and start sobbing loudly, I think it might make the rest of us a little bit more comfortable about expressing our feelings.”

I clear my throat several times before I manage to choke out, “Sorry. But if you’re feeling the need to bawl like a baby, I’m afraid you’re on your own.”

He grimaces. “Yeah, I thought you might say that. That’s how you roll. Mister cool. Never yells. Always keeps a level head. I don’t think you know how much we rely on you for that. How much I rely on you for that. Over the years, I think we’ve all kind of settled into our roles in this family. Ava’s the puppet master, pulling all the strings and moving us all forward. Blaise is the problem child, sorry, man, but you know it’s true. Derek is the responsible one, making sure our moral compass always points in the right direction. Me, I’m the guy who eases the tension and keeps things chill even when we’re all so high-strung we’re about to jump out of our skin. And you, you’re our rock. The unbreakable force we turn to when we got shit too big to carry on our own.”

As Angel proceeds to raise the photo of us performing, he continues. “I know it’s no damn secret I get a stupid kind of nervous every time we step onto a stage. I don’t know why. But even now, it still happens. And you know how I cope with it? You don’t. You wouldn’t, because I’m behind you and you have your back to me most of the night, so you can’t see me. But I can see you. And it helps me. Always has. Ever since that first show we played at Rusty’s. Remember that? You saw me freaking out, and you said not to look at the crowd, to just pick one thing in the room and focus on that. And I did. And it worked. And I’ve been staring at the back of your head every time I geton stage ever since. So, what I love most about you, Royce Lemmi, is the way you can lighten the dark. Most of the time you don’t even know you’re doing it.”

Holy shit. These assholes are going to kill me. How did I never know he does that? And honestly, if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m staring right at a picture of him with his eyes locked on the back of my head as if I have fucking horns growing back there, I would have written it off as total bullshit. But here it is. Proof, in black and white.

The only saving grace at this point, is that there isn’t anyone left after Derek.

“Guess that means, I’m next.” He smiles halfheartedly. “Well, after this last year, I think it’s safe to say, I’ve come to rely on all of you more than ever. It’s been a shit year, but it’s also been an amazing year.” He looks down at the picture in his hands as he lets it dance back and forth in his grip. “I kind of always thought I had the lockdown on the whole love thing. I knew Angel and Blaise were too busy banging one chick after the next to ever actually feel something. And, even though you weren’t nearly as big of a whore as those two, it was pretty obvious that you weren’t handing your heart over to any of the douchebags you were hooking up with. Then, there was me. The guy who fell in love at seventeen and married that same girl just a few short years later. How fucking on top of shit was I?” He laughs, but it’s a painful laugh.

“Turns out, I was a bit off on my assumptions. Because here’s Blaise, loving Ava. Angel’s still a slut, but Blaise, he knows so much more about being selfless and generous with his heart than I ever gave him credit for.” He glances down again, thistime slowly moving his hands, preparing to reveal the image he seems captivated by more than once while talking.

“Then, there’s you, Royce. And it should go without saying, especially after what everyone else has already shared here tonight, but you have been more than just a best friend to me, you’ve been a brother. A better brother even, than my real brothers. And, while I value all of the qualities already mentioned, the thing I find most admirable...most beautiful about you, Royce Lemmi, is the way you are able to love.”

I was expecting to see an image of us. Of Derek and I. Because that’s sort of been the theme up until this point. Except that’s not what I’m looking at. Right before my eyes, is a shot of Hudson and me. He took it in Australia on our last night there. We tried several times to set the timer and then pose just right. Finally, he gave up and set it to just keep shooting back-to-back shots for several seconds. Apparently, that’s when this one was taken.

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