Chapter Forty-Eight
Rye
ThesmallgettogetherWednesday evening probably couldn’t really be called a party, but Rye’s mom seemed intent on making it feel like one. She cleaned the house and had the gardener over to tidy up the backyard. She also baked and decorated a huge cake, and with Rye’s permission, invited Uncle Jon and Aunt Tanya and Janice and then a couple other very close family friends who lived in town.
Uncle Jon manned the barbecue, grilling up burgers and hot dogs, and Aunt Tanya brought so many other dishes, Rye thought she’d meant to feed the whole town. There was potato salad, fruit salad, veggies, chips and dip, some pasta dish, baked beans, and coleslaw.
And everyone sat outside around a big table Uncle Jon had set up, and they ate and talked. His mom thoroughly embarrassed him by standing up about halfway through the meal and giving a short, tear-filled speech saying how proud she was of him, how happy she’d been the whole last year, and how much she was looking forward to the future now. Then she hugged Rye and kissed his cheek, and everyone was quiet for a few minutes, except for more sniffles and a few low murmurs of agreement, before the chatter picked back up again.
Rye... managed. Surprisingly well, he thought. Maybe because he knew everyone already and they all seemed to know to give him space to avoid overwhelming him.
Maybe it was that.
Or maybe it was because Jake had been sitting with him nearly the whole time. And having his friend nearby made him feel safe. And brave. Like he could handle things.
Rye stared down at the empty cup in his hands, half listening to the vague chatter going on around him. From his right, Jake laughed, and the deep sound resonated, surrounding him. He closed his eyes.
It was true.
What his mom had said to him the other day—that maybe he’d started to care about Jake as more than just a friend—it was true.
And also terrifying.
For the last few days, Rye hadn’t been able to speak much, even to Jake. He’d tried to carry on with their “normal,” where he could usually find the words if he really needed them, especially when it was just him and Jake. But it had been worse even than most of the summer. As frustrating as that was to him, Jake had taken it all in stride, filling the silence when it had needed to be filled. He’d told Rye stories about his life, or talked about his work, or helped him with the last-minute studying Rye needed to do before Friday.
Or, when the silence wasn’t uncomfortable, Jake had just been there. He’d just stayed. Not seeming to mind in the slightest.
In fact, he’d seemed almost eager, like there was nowhere else he’d rather be, even if Rye couldn’t talk.
And it wasn’t just that. Rye had started to notice other things, too. Some big, some small. It hadn’t really been hard, not when he’d been paying attention.
The lingering looks that somehow had the power to cause a gentle warmth to spread through Rye’s chest.
The thoughtfulness that seemed to go into everything Jake did.
The softness in Jake’s voice that seemed to be reserved only for Rye.
All of those things, plus at least one other big one that Rye hadn’t been able to stop thinking about.
“Hey, Rye, did you hear that?” Jake’s soft voice surrounded him with warmth, just like his laugh had moments ago, and Rye opened his eyes, blinking against the dimming sunlight of early evening, and tilted his head to look at Jake. Deep brown eyes, so kind and soft, met his. “Your mom’s heading inside to cut the cake,” Jake continued. “Did you want some?”
Rye smiled but shook his head. He was too full from dinner to eat any more, and even though he couldn’t seem to say that, Jake somehow understood.
“Too full now, huh? Maybe later?” At Rye’s nod, Jake grinned and said, “Well, I’ve always got room for cake”—Rye raised his eyebrows in amusement, which earned him an eye roll—“so, I’ll be right back. Gonna grab a piece and see if your mom needs any help. Is there anything you want? More water? Or I can make you some tea?”
Rye shook his head again, and Jake gave him a small, warm smile.
“Okay. I’ll be right back.”
And as soon as he left, Rye felt it—that other thing that he’d noticed so much in the last few days and hadn’t been able to stop thinking about. When Jake wasn’t around, Rye...wantedhim to be.
It was a quiet ache in his chest. Not uncomfortable, just... expectant.
He’d mentioned it to his mom last night in a short, mostly one-sided conversation they’d had where he’d actually managed to force a few words out. And his mom had smiled knowingly and nodded and said, “I’m guessing Jake feels that same way, sweetie.”
He’d wanted to ask her more questions, but he hadn’t been able to. The few words he’d said had been as much as he’d been capable of.
Rye watched Jake disappear into the house, then he set his cup up on the table in front of him and waited, feeling the ache even more acutely. Uncle Jon came up and asked him if he wanted anything else, and he shook his head in response. Then Janice came over to say goodbye, wishing him good luck on his GED exams on Friday. He forced out a quiet “thank you,” which earned him a smile.
