Page 86 of Lost Boy
“Why they think over six feet tall teenagers need to be doing obstacles in the trees is beyond me,” Jamie adds dryly, and I crack up. It’s fucking ridiculous when I look at my huge friend trying to get his size fourteens out of the holes in the net.
When the public school idiots catch me laughing and smiling with my friend, they scowl, and Dustin hollers, “Hey, Cruz! Where’s your pretty little friend with the make-up and sparkles? Did you see him this morning? Rather cute when he has a sleepy face, huh? The black eyeliner smeared under his eyes and that blue hair sticking up everywhere. I canmaybeeven understand why you—”
“Enough!” Jamie shouts, cutting Dustin off.
He’s trying to goad me, but I know Fallon is relatively okay. I just saw him. He’s not lost in the woods or bleeding out in a ditch somewhere.
“Where’s all that toilet paper that went missing from your school, Dustin? Seth? Because if you add theft to the list. . .” I whistle between my teeth obnoxiously. “You’re seriously fucked.”
I shrug Jamie off and step toward them. “So, say one more thing. Do it. Say one more fucking thing!” I shout in Dustin’s face, nearly stepping on his toes.
We’re the same size, and it’d probably be an even fight. Even though I’ve never punched anyone before, I might start now.
Jamie pulls me back. “Beat them on the court, Ry. Not here.”
Seth barks out a cruel laugh. “Keep dreaming, rich boys. You ain’t beating shit.”
God.I can’t fuckingstandthem.
A whistle blares, and we all glance up on instinct. Our teammates finally make it to the end of the obstacle course, and we’re done. Free to leave and head home.
“You all did a great job this weekend, and I think we’ve seen some real progress. Although we can’t expect you to change overnight. But in any case, I hope you’ve learned some valuable life lessons to carry with you. And everyone is cleared to play in the championship game! Congratulations!” Dale ends with a shout.
“Let’s go, Ry. Let’s check on Fallon,” Jamie whispers, and I nod, turning without a second thought to those public school fuckers or this trust camp. I need to focus on my boyfriend.
* * *
“Stay out here,” I tell Jamie quietly, heading toward the tent.
“Fallon. You awake?” I say gently, unzipping the door slowly so I don’t frighten him. But there’s no answer.
I glance over my shoulder at Jamie, and his worried eyes mirror my own.
I step into the tent, flinging the blankets and sleeping bags around.
Fallon’s not here.
“Shit! He’s gone!” I shout.
“What do you mean gone?”
“He’s not here! But his backpack and all his stuff are,” I answer frantically and on edge.
Did they get him again?
“His guitar is gone, look.” Jamie points toward the open guitar case.
“He went to play,” I murmur, thinking hard aboutwhere.
We make eye contact, and it comes to me. “The lake.”
“Let’s go. I’ll help you find him.” Jamie nods his head toward the exit, his voice calm and reassuring.
We sprint into the woods, and it doesn’t take more than ten minutes of jogging to reach the lakeshore. It would take longer to walk, but I don’t have time for casual strolls. I need to find him.
We hear Fallon before we see him. The same haunting song he loves so much pours from his dad’s guitar. The melodies are a tormented, jagged sound that scrapes at the soft underbelly of my emotions, giving me a taste of the hurt he’s felt for years. But I’ll take it.All of it.
When he finally comes into view, his head hangs low, and his vibrant blue hair is a mess across his face, matching the bright shade of his dad’s guitar. It’s all so fitting that goosebumps erupt across my skin as he hums that tune that stirs my soul.
