Gracen walks to my desk, where one of the many phone books is lying open. Is this some strange project that I don’t remember being told about? I watch as he lays his hand flat on a page and then crumples it, tearing it out. He balls it up and tosses it to the floor. Then he turns to look at me.
Okay… I’m not understanding this message.
With a smile, Gracen holds out his hand for me to give him my meal. I do. He then gestures to the phone book.
Am I supposed to do that?
I stand in front of it and stare down. We’re in the H’s. Harris. Harris. About a hundred Harrises. Then we move on to Harrison. There’s a whole lot of them, too.
“Rip it,” Gracen says. “Rip it and toss it aside.”
Ryan’s laughter fills my head. I shudder and slap my hand to the book. The first tear echoes in my head. The crumpling of paper is loud, too. I toss it aside and grab another. Another. I use both hands and shred the book.
Each handful of paper releases something inside me, and I feel a little more wild with each page that comes loose. The tears drown out Ryan’s voice. He gets louder. Yelling at me to stop being a child. Stop making a mess. Stop being a sinful boy.
I only stop when I run out of book. It’s empty. I even tore apart the cover, and now I’m staring at the spot where it had been. My hands twitch.
Another book appears, and I feel like I dive for it. I’m reminded of the time I took the chainsaw to the tree to try to get rid of Ryan. I hacked it apart until it was so weak that the tree fell. Still, Ryan didn’t go away.
Tears streak down my face as I tear apart book after book. Until I feel like I’m falling off a cliff with Ryan still in my ear, telling me I’m not dying correctly. I’m going to hell for being such a sinful boy.
Gracen is there. He steps close, and I practically fall into him, pressing my face into his chest. I inhale deeply, trying to catch my breath, and… he smells so good. Spices and… something. So many somethings.
I continue to breathe him in as I regulate my breathing. It isn’t until I’ve caught my breath that I realize the difference.
Ryan is finally silent.
6
GRACEN
I’ve foundMalin tearing apart the phone books several times over the next week. I’m not sure it accomplishes what I hoped it would, but there’s certainly some relief after. Or maybe exhaustion.
Yesterday, he sought me out when he was finished tearing apart one of the books, and I held him in my arms for more than an hour. Just standing there in the middle of my office.
Is this the beginning of something? Or is it something else? Does he just need a hug? It would be easier just to ask him, but Malin isn’t like anyone else I’ve met. I honestly don’t think he’d fully comprehend any question I ask him, simply because I don’t know that I can make it eloquent enough for it not to sound like a third grader is asking him if he wants to be my boyfriend.
Every afternoon, I clean up his office and replace the books he tore apart with new ones. I could leave it for the cleaners, but I’m the one who decided this mess was a good idea, so I think I should be the one cleaning it. However, I have no idea where the trash gets taken, so I leave it in the hallway.
Today, Malin doesn’t come into the office. I wait until two to see if he’ll show up, constantly peeking in his office between work, only to find it empty. Eventually, I get to my feet and wander through the empty offices until I find one that views the lake.
There he is.
I watch him for several minutes, wondering how I can check in on him without it looking suspicious. I don’t want him to think I’m following him.
Who am I kidding? I know exactly what I’m going to do.
Stopping back in my office, I send the file I was working on to Voss’ team. There’s a name that I’ve been toying around with for a while, and I think I’ve unlocked his tie into the New World Order Temple cult, but I need confirmation. Sometimes you just need another set of eyes.
When I’m finished, I shut down my computer and head home. I’m at the right time where there’s a train of vehicles coming from the school, so I stop and wave to all the Van Doren kids on their way by.
Once home, I fill my cooler, grab some of the cold salads I’ve been snacking on over the last day or so, some charcuterie goods, and head out. I park beside Malin and bring my cooler to the end of the dock. I watch Malin float around as I unlace my boots, remove them and my socks, and stick my feet into the water.
I think the water needs to be cooled down for this to be refreshing. As much as I’d like to call Malin over, I decide not to. Instead, I do what I always do and grab a bottle of cold water from my cooler and watch him while I sip it.
Malin doesn’t move for a long time. He remains entirely motionless. Sometimes, I find I’m watching intently just to catch a sign of life. I think he sleeps.
After what feels like an eternity, Malin sits up and begins paddling to the dock. I watch him as I fill my glass bottle up again with one of the larger containers of water.
