I couldn’t stand it. I got inside the Bronco and drove off. I shouldn’t have drove at all since I’d had a couple of Zimas, but that’s what I did. I drove away from the Sawyer house that night, panicking, tears welling up in my eyes with my best friend yelling though the open windows, taunting me with that picture, “Shane? Shane! What thefuck,Shane?”
That was it. That was the very last time I saw or spoke to Everett. We’d just graduated so I wouldn’t have to see him at school. I wouldn’t have to see Ethan either. And it was Ethan that tried to reach out to me first. I ignored him. He kept trying. I kept ignoring him. It tore me apart. I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t stop thinking about how Everett had looked at me. Something had changed between us when he saw me with my arms around his brother. I didn’t want to face it. Everett had photographic evidence right there in his hands. I was ashamed. And then I was ashamed for being ashamed.
Everett could have shown anyone—everyone—that photo. My grandparents and me were already looked down upon by people in our town. The photo of me with Ethan Sawyer would have made it worse. And Ethan wasn’t nearly as popular as his brother, but if Everett was going around showing people that picture, it wouldn’t be to shame Ethan. It would be to shame me. Accuse me.Look what he was doing with my brother!The terror over what could happen nearly ate me alive.
Months went by. I thought maybe I could like Gina and that being with her might put to rest any rumors Everett could have started. Then Gina told me she was pregnant. Then we went tothe hospital and Mikayla came into this world. Then we moved into our apartment in Lyons Falls. Then we moved out of our apartment in Lyons Falls. Then I started working for a deck and patio contractor in Lowville.
And then I went to Ev’s funeral.
I completely dropped both Ev and Ethan in favor of this new life I thought would help me to move on and benormal.And maybe it did for a little while. Everett wrote me emails some time later. I deleted some of them. I tried to move on with my life, but I never really did. My daughter doesn’t deserve a dad with all these burdens from the past. She doesn’t deserve a dad who can’t face who he really is.
She doesn’t deserve a dad who’s a coward.
Just a few months ago, Everett sent me one last email. I haven’t told anyone about it, and I haven’t read it. I was going to delete it, but decided I would just open it and read it when I felt ready.
That day hasn’t come yet.
I look in the rearview at Ethan again. I’ve wondered over the years if Ev ever confronted Ethan with that picture. Ethan and I used to communicate through secret emails, and I deleted my secret email address after that graduation party. I don’t know if Ethan ever told Everett about us. I don’t know if Rick or Sheila knew. I was practically frozen over the fear of the Sawyers hunting me down with pitchforks over that picture with Ethan. What would they think? Would anyone still like me if they knew I was gay?
For a while, I really thought maybe the news of me and Gina and our daughter would put to rest any rumors or questions.
But I don’t know anything. I was afraid to know. I was afraid of what people would think of me and say about me in our small town. Would they have told my grandparents? Would they have harassed my grandparents over me?
I can’t be afraid anymore. I just can’t.
But it’s painful to know the way Ethan feels about me now, and how he’ll never want to see me again after this. I selfishly wish for a time machine just so I can see him look at me in that sad puppy adoring way one more time.
But that’s the thing, that’s the bitch of it all.
There are no time machines.
Everett is in that urn.
And Ethan’s never going to look at me that way again.
Ethan sleeps all the way to Binghampton and wakes when I park outside of a rest stop. There’s a sign that promises that the best Denny’s in New York state is inside.
“What are we doing here?” Ethan asks sleepily.
“Thought we could both use some coffee,” I reply. “Maybe something to eat.” I reach over the center console to get my overnight bag for some cash, which is really just the old gym bag I used when I ran track in high school.
After I get out of the Blazer, Ethan gets out, goes over to the passenger side, and opens the door. He carefully removes Everett’s urn from the nest of cushions.
“What are you doing?” I ask him.
“I don’t want to leave him out here.”
“You can’t take that in there.”
“Why not?” He genuinely looks offended.
“Because…it’s like, an urn. Holding a person’sashes.”
He unzips his coat and tucks the urn inside, zipping it back up. “It’s not just aperson’sashes, it’s mybrother’s. I’m not leaving him in the car. If they give us any shit, we’ll just go somewhere else.”
I decide not to argue with him, because I don’t know which one of us is actually being sensible right now.
Once inside, we get a booth in the smoking section. I look around us nervously as Ethan carefully sets the urn beside him and turns it toward the window. A waitress comes by and we both order coffee. I tell her we’ll need a minute for anything else. She seems too distracted to notice there’s an urn joining us.
