Rainbow Road (6 page)

Nelson didn’t feel like going to bed yet, but he didn’t want to stay outside by himself either. Besides, it was starting to rain, so he went with Kyle and Jason to brush his teeth, merrily singing “Three Blind Mice” as he trailed along.

When they returned, Nelson climbed into the tent first.

“Excuse me,” Kyle said as he and Jason crawled in after him. “Could you please move over to one side, so I can sleep next to my boyfriend?”

“But I wanted to be the sandwich,” Nelson protested, giggling. He moved his sleeping bag over and al three boys began to peel off their clothes.

Kyle remained in shorts and T-shirt, Jason stripped to his boxers, and Nelson started to tug off his own underwear.

“I knew you’d try that.” Kyle grabbed Nelson’s wrist. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Kyle! You know I always sleep nude. It’s roasting in here. Jason doesn’t mind. Do you?”

“You’re drunk,” Jason said, and roled over.

“Let go of my wrist,” Nelson told Kyle, shaking him off.

“You’re being a jerk,” Kyle replied. “Now would you keep your shorts on?”

“Yes, Mommy,” Nelson agreed and laid down.

Kyle switched off the battery lamp. Across the darkness, Nelson heard him kiss Jason.

“Go ahead,” Nelson told them. “Don’t mind me. I’l just lay quiet over here by myself.” He punched his pilow, unable to get comfortable, but the patter of rain and the rum in his brain put him to sleep within seconds.

Kyle refused to let Nelson’s drunken craziness ruin his first night together with the boy of his dreams. He’d waited way too long for this moment. He wrapped his arms around Jason, something he yearned to repeat every night for the rest of his life, and breathed in his musky athletic scent.

His entire body ached to do more than merely hold Jason—but no way with nosy Nelson there. Instead Kyle contented himself with whispering into Jason’s ear, “I love you.”

“Back at you,” Jason responded and turned to kiss Kyle, his breath stil tasting faintly of alcohol.

That worried Kyle. What if Jason turned out to be an alcoholic like his dad? Kyle had heard the disease ran in families. And he knew how violent and abusive Jason’s dad had been. What if Jason became like that?

Kyle hugged Jason tighter, trying to quel the troubling thoughts, and Jason gripped Kyle’s arm around his chest, reassuring him. The fact was Jason hadn’t gotten drunk, or violent, or abusive tonight. He lay gently beside Kyle, the quiet thumping of his heart guiding Kyle to peaceful sleep amid the patter of raindrops.

Sometime later in the night, the rain subsided. In the ensuing calm, Kyle learned something new and unexpected about the boy he loved: Jason snored. Very. Loud.

In fact, so thunderously loud that at first Kyle thought surely Jason must be awake and kidding around. But Jason gave no sign of joking. He lay on his back sound asleep.

Kyle’s dreams about spending every night of his future life together with Jason had failed to include this detail. And he felt clueless as to what to do about it.

On the other side of Kyle, Nelson tossed and roled in his sleeping bag. Finaly he groaned, “Kyle!” Even though Kyle clearly heard him, he lay silent, feigning sleep, while Jason rumbled and wheezed.

“Kyle!” Nelson insisted, his hand landing on Kyle’s shoulder, shaking him. “I know you’re awake. No one could sleep through that racket, so stop pretending.”

“What do you expect me to do about it?” Kyle whispered. “It’s probably ’cause of your rum.”

“Do
some
thing!” Nelson brought his hands to his ears. “My head feels like a truck is roaring though it. How can anyone sleep like that? Shake him awake.”

“I’m not going to wake him.”

Even though Kyle said it in a whisper, Jason’s cacophony abruptly stopped as he raised his head toward Kyle and Nelson. “Wha’s up?”

“Nothing.” Kyle gently patted his arm, not wanting Jason to feel bad for waking them. But Nelson sat up and shouted, “You’re snoring! Like, realy,
really
loud.”

“Oh,” Jason mumbled. As if he’d been through this before, he roled face down onto his stomach and returned to sleep.

Kyle waited, and he could tel that Nelson was listening too. But Jason’s snoring was now replaced by soft rhythmic breathing.

“Thank God!” Nelson exclaimed. “He’d better not do that the whole trip.”

Kyle’s annoyance at Nelson returned, but, too exhausted to pursue it, he drifted once again to sleep til awakened by Nelson newly complaining, “Now what the hel is
that
noise?”

Kyle blinked his eyes open. Morning sunlight streamed through the mesh tent door, piercing the fog of Kyle’s sleepy brain, as he tried to identify the pounding outside.

“Basketbal,” he told Nelson and sat up, putting on his glasses to peer out the door.

Kyle watched as Jason dribbled up and down the court, dodging sunlit pools of rainwater, his tanned skin glowing in the early morning sun.

“Do you ever have days,” Nelson muttered, “when you wake up and just want to kil someone?” Kyle ignored him and climbed from the tent, gazing admiringly at Jason’s leaps and sprints. “Good morning!” He waved happily as he walked past Jason to the bathhouse to wash up and put his contacts in.

When he returned, Nelson was crawling out from the tent, scowling and puling the hood of his pocketed red sweatshirt over his head. Grumbling something about murder, he puled his cel phone out from the car charger and started toward the bathhouse.

“Hey, sorry about my snoring,” Jason shouted as he dribbled across the court. “At basketbal camp my roomie mentioned it. You just have to tel me to rol over.”

“Whatever.” Nelson waved his hand, dismissing the apology.

“Hey, you want to shoot a few with me?” Jason asked.

Nelson stopped, put his hands on his hips, and glared from beneath his sweatshirt hood at Jason. “I do
not
play basketbal.”

“That’s okay, I’l teach you.” Jason gave an encouraging smile. “Hey, Kyle! Tel Nelson how I taught you to shoot!” Kyle recaled how Jason had taught him to pitch crumpled scratch paper perfectly into the wastebasket, while Kyle helped Jason study math. It had been a step in their friendship.

Apparently, however, it wasn’t going to be a part of Nelson’s friendship. “Forget it!” he told Jason and started once more toward the bathhouse.

Jason watched him traipse away, then gave a shrug and tossed a perfect swoosh.

Kyle walked to the camp store, bought some milk and bananas, and returned to their site to prepare cereal. Beside the wooden picnic table he found the rum bottle from last night, stil three-quarters ful. An instant later he was pouring it out, watering a pine tree.

“What are you doing?” Jason asked, walking up from the court.

“I didn’t come on this trip to watch Nelson get drunk every night.” He tossed the empty bottle into the trash can. “Want some cereal?” Kyle prepared them each a heaping bowl and said to Jason, “Can I ask…. How can you drink after everything that happened with your dad?” He hoped Jason would respond with something like:
I’m sorry, Kyle. l can tell it worries you. I won’t do it again
.

But instead Jason chomped hungrily on his Wheaties. “I’m not a drunk,” he said simply. “I know when to stop.”

“But I’ve heard,” Kyle insisted, “that alcoholism runs in families.”

Jason rested his spoon and gave Kyle a cold stare across the table. “I’m not my dad, okay?” Kyle nodded and said softly, “Okay.”

Nelson returned on the path from the bathhouse, carrying his toiletry kit in one hand while finishing a cigarette with the other.

“Want some cereal?” Kyle asked.

“God, no! I feel like a vulture is tearing out my stomach.”

He raised the trash can lid to stub out his cigarette butt. “Hey, what’s my rum—?” He puled out the empty bottle and stared through the glass, obviously bewildered.

Kyle braced himself on the picnic table. “I poured it out.”

Nelson stared at him openmouthed. “Do you know how much trouble I went through for this? It wasn’t yours to throw out. Why’d you do that?” Kyle’s neck grew warm. “Because I’m not going to have you getting drunk every night.”

“I wasn’t drunk.”

“Yeah, you were. You should’ve told me you were bringing alcohol so we could discuss it.”

“And you”—Nelson tossed the bottle back into the trash can—“should’ve told me before you poured my rum out.” He slammed the metal lid down. “I can’t believe you. That is so controling!”

Kyle bit into his lip, suddenly unsure. What had prompted him to throw out something that wasn’t his? He’d never acted that way before. But then he’d never watched his best friend get drunk and put the make on his boyfriend, either.

As Nelson stormed toward the car, fuming and cursing, Kyle glanced at Jason, looking for help. But Jason merely shrugged. “Once my mom poured every bottle of my dad’s booze down the toilet. And you know what? It didn’t solve anything.”

Kyle gazed across the table at the boy he’d spent the night holding in his arms. So what if Nelson had tried to put the make on him? Hadn’t Jason quite plainly rebuffed his advances? And wasn’t the whole notion of Nelson actualy being able to score with Jason kind of ridiculous?

Kyle stirred his spoon in his soggy bowl of cereal, feeling pretty foolish.

Jason took down their tent while Kyle apologized to Nelson for pouring out his rum. “I’m sorry, okay?” Jason had thought Kyle was acting crazy dumping out the booze, but the whole evening before had been crazy, with Nelson teling him he had an awesome body and wanting to get naked.

“Here.” Jason handed Nelson a Coke as they packed up the car. “It’l help settle your stomach.”

“Thanks,” Nelson grumbled. “You want to drive? I’m too wiped.” He tossed Jason the keys. “Just don’t crash it, okay?” As they climbed into the car, Jason bumped his knees on the steering column and had to slide the seat back to adjust for the height difference. He stood about half a foot taler than Nelson. Kyle hopped in front beside him, while Nelson climbed in back.

Jason liked being behind the wheel. He enjoyed driving and wished he had his own car. After adjusting the mirrors, he puled out of the campsite. As he drove past the basketbal court, he glanced at Nelson in the rearview. “Hey, why wouldn’t you shoot hoops with me?”

“I told you,” Nelson snapped. “I don’t play.”

“But why not?”

“You realy want to know?”

“Yeah.” Jason nodded.

“Because it reminds me how much I hate ignoranus jocks.”

Kyle shifted in his seat. “It’s ignor
amus,
not ignoranus.”

“No,” Nelson insisted. “I mean ignor
anus
. They’re not only ignorant, they’re also assholes.” Jason felt his body tense. Was Nelson sideswiping him?

“Al through school,” Nelson continued, “whenever teams got chosen for some stupid game, I was always, always, always picked last. The jocks would say, ‘I don’t want him. You take him. He plays like a girl.’ And after someone finaly
had
to take me, they caled me homo and faggot the entire game. And do you think any teachers ever stood up for me?” He smirked into the rearview at Jason. “I’ve got so
many
cheery memories of sports. Does that answer your question?”

“Yeah,” Jason said quietly.

“I’m going to sleep,” Nelson announced, laying down in the backseat. “Wake me when we get somewhere.” As they puled onto I-81, Jason thought about what Nelson had said. He felt a little guilty recaling the many times in his own gym classes when he’d been elected team captain and picked teams. Naturaly, he’d dreaded picking the Nelson-types. After al, wasn’t the object of the game to win? Who wanted someone on the team who’d only help them lose? Jason remembered the name-caling, but didn’t every boy get caled names? Even he had. In his case it had made him work harder to prove he wasn’t gay. Now as he looked back, it al seemed so confusing.

“You okay?” Kyle asked from across the car seat.

“Yeah,” Jason replied. He laid his palm next to Kyle and Kyle rested his own hand in it. As he tenderly stroked Kyle’s fingers, Jason breathed a sigh of relief.

Thank God high school was over.

A couple of hours later they approached the Tennessee border. Nelson sat up, wiping his eyes. “Where are we?” He yawned.

“About to cross into Tennessee.”

“Woo-hoo!” Nelson reached forward across Jason and tooted the horn as they crossed the state line. Then he started searching the backseat. “Hey, do you guys see my cel phone up there?”

“No,” Kyle replied. “Where did you put it?”

“I’m not sure.” Nelson’s brow furrowed. “This morning I took it to the bathhouse and caled my mom….”

“Did you bring it back?” Kyle asked.

“Oh my God!” Nelson pressed a hand to his forehead. “I think it’s in the pocket of my sweatshirt. I must’ve left it hanging on the toilet stal door.”

“Nelson!” Kyle exclaimed. “Are you sure?”

“Yes! I feel so stupid.” Nelson banged his head against the back of Kyle’s seat. “I can’t believe I did that.” Jason glowered into the rearview at Nelson. “Dude, we’ve driven two hours already.”

“Crap,” Nelson muttered, shaking a cigarette from his pack.

“Wel,” Kyle grumbled. “We’ve got to go back for it.”

Jason flicked the blinker on and turned around at the next exit, no longer feeling so guilty for the times he hadn’t picked any pain-in-the-ass Nelsons for his teams.

During the return drive Nelson kept amazingly quiet in the backseat, probably because he realized Jason and Kyle were too annoyed to talk to him. Two wasted hours later, they arrived at the campground.

Jason parked beside the bathhouse and Nelson raced inside. A moment later he returned empty-handed. No red sweatshirt. No phone. Only a peeved look on his face.

“Someone must’ve taken it. They’re probably having a long-distance free-for-al.”

“Let’s ask at the office,” Kyle suggested. “Maybe someone turned it in.”

But at the registration desk, no one had turned in a red hooded sweatshirt or a cel phone.

“Are you sure that’s where you left it?” Jason asked.

“You know,” Kyle said, “we should check the trunk.”