“I have a man on crutches coming through. Hold the door!” Patrick shouted. He pushed his arms out to allow room for Spencer, as if he were a bodyguard.
Huffing for breath, Patrick grabbed onto a pole in the El car. Spencer’s fingers hooked onto the pole just above his, and he handed Patrick the crutch he wasn’t using. His chest heaved under his polo shirt, muscles straining against the fabric. Patrick took a mental snapshot, then looked out the window at the platform becoming a thing of the past.
“That was awesome,” Spencer said between breaths, his lips stretching into a gleeful grin. “I can’t believe we made it.”
Patrick laughed and rested his head on the cool metal pole. “Are you ready to do that all over again when we have to get off?”
They whisked above the streets of Chicago, through neighborhoods of three-flats and single-family homes until they came to the next step, Fullerton, home of DePaul. The clean white lines and boxy soccer nets of Wish Field came into view outside their window. Patrick had a little flutter of nostalgia enter his chest. Anticipating the new crush of commuters, he held onto Spencer’s crutches, and the two neighbors moved each closer to each other, close enough for Patrick to get a whiff of his shaving cream. Good thing he had that crutch to hold onto because his legs momentarily turned to jelly.
This guy thinks you’re a weirdo, he reminded himself.He doesn’t like you.
When the train pulled out of the Fullerton stop, they relaxed a few inches apart into more comfortable positions.
“Hey,” Spencer said. “I’m sorry about the Fourth.”
“What do you mean?” Patrick played along.
“My friend Ryan and I saying you were weird. I felt like an instant asshole. You’re really cool for doing this.”
Patrick shrugged, playing it cool. He appreciated the apology, even if it was only prompted by Patrick’s good deeds. Spencer’s opinion of him probably did not change that much.
“I think I just never met anyone so into fall. We still have a few months.”
Patrick see-sawed his head. “Depends how you look at it.”
Spencer quirked an eyebrow, another jelly-legged moment. “I’m afraid to ask for an explanation.”
“Right now, we’re in summer,” Patrick said.
“So you do agree that there’s a summer?”
“Of course. We need to suffer through summer in order to better appreciate fall.”
A genuine, spontaneous bark of a laugh escaped from Spencer. “Oh, God.”
“But by late July, I get excited because it means fall is on its way. It’s the pre-launch to the countdown to fall. Stores start to put out fall fashions and fall decor. I’ll do my big candle shopping haul to prepare. Then comes August, the countdown to fall.”
“The countdown to fall?” Spencer’s smile could’ve lit the way for the El as they went underground.
“Right. Before fall begins on the Tuesday after Labor Day.”
“Isn’t the first day of fall in late September?”
“That’s nature-fall. Not the fall I’m talking about.”
Patrick felt the excitement take over his face. He didn’t discuss this with people usually. He was self-aware enough to know that most people didn’t get into fall like he did. But since Spencer had already called him a weirdo, it had removed any sting of embarrassment. It wasn’t like there were levels to weirdness. Spencer thought he was weird, but seemed to be having a good time listening to him.
“September through December is my favorite time of year, and August lets me know that it’s almost here. I’ve slogged through seven months of the year so far. This is when more stores have fall stuff out, magazines put out September and fall-themed issues, previews for scary movies play in theaters. I’ll probably barrel through a Home Goods at some point.” He refrained from admitting that he’d frolicked through a Michael’s already.
“And then what happens in September?” Spencer asked. “Do you implode from the excitement?”
“I’m not afraid to throw your crutches out the window.”
Spencer held his hands up in surrender. “So what happens next?”
And here, Patrick paused, his excitement turning into a question mark. “I’m not sure. There is no fall in LA, and I didn’t celebrate fall while at college. I took it for granted. It wasn’t until I moved to a place without seasons that I realized how special they were to me. It was like I was homesick for fall.” Patrick appreciated Spencer’s questions because he hadn’t given much thought to why he loved fall. “I want to see the leaves change color and feel that crisp breeze on my way to work and wear scarves. Go apple picking, carve pumpkins, too. Lots of people may love LA, but it wasn’t for me. Living in California was like being stuck in a time loop, and...I’m ready to get out.”
Patrick thought about GFA again. He was a cancer that destroyed his time in Los Angeles. Fall was like a portal to a happier time in his life without GFA - a time of family, friends, merriment, warmth, traditions. He hated how his ex-boyfriend entered his thoughts at random times, casting a black cloud over his mood. Well, Patrick wasn’t going to let GFA or any guy do that to him again, especially for his first fall back in Chicago.
