The Storm Before the Calm (22 page)

We watched as the group currently performing twirled and glided around the scuffed stage surface. They finished with a flourish as the song ended, and all bowed in unison before prancing off the stage. They darted past us, and then there were only moments left before the most important performance of my life.

Max squeezed my hand. “Just remember to dance from here,” he said, placing his palm over my heart.

I heard Grace announce our names and the title of our piece, and then without conscious thought, I walked onto the stage and took my place. The music started, and I knew Max was right behind me. And then his hands were on me and my body was responding, leaning into him, gliding with him, moving in perfect synchronicity.

He lifted me and lowered me to the ground, falling over me and then to the side. I angled up, kicking up from my knees and propelling myself into a cartwheel with my hands braced on either side of his chest. I held my hands out, and then his were there, his fingers sliding around my wrists as I pulled him up and against me, his arms contracting around my back as we swayed together.

We transitioned, a quick turn, a piqué, and then sixteen fouettés in tandem. We nailed the turns and spun out of our last rotation, Max dropping down into a low spin and me into an attitude en arrière. My heart pounded against my ribs as the music swelled and we headed into our handstand. Max gripped my hands, his steadiness as sure as anything and his eyes locked with mine. It was just as we’d rehearsed it in the studio. A small nod, and then I jumped, Max getting beneath me and supporting me.

I kept my eyes on his, putting every ounce of trust I possessed into him. My body responded to his as his responded to mine, making the minor adjustments needed to keep me in the air, holding on by no more than our palms pressed against one another and our fingers intertwined. He lowered me down, and I bent forward, falling back to earth. Max caught me, just as I knew he would, and placed me down. The music slowed, and all I could see was him. We were so close together. All I could feel was love as he slid his hands along the sides of my face. Tilting it up, he leaned in and kissed me.

In the periphery, I was vaguely aware of cheering from the crowd as the music ended and we broke apart. Max took my hand and brought me to the edge of the stage. We bent forward together, bowing and accepting the applause so readily offered by the audience. As I stood, my gaze landed on two people in the front row.

Ginny and my mom.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I
CE
WATER
rushed through my veins as I recognized the expression on my mom’s face as one of pure shock. I could feel my palms begin to sweat, and I froze. I couldn’t look away from her and her look of disbelief.

I felt Max tugging at my hand, pulling me back toward the wings. I tripped over my own feet as I followed him, still watching my mom process what she’d seen.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God.” I kept repeating it over and over as Max led me down the steps and into the tent. It was, thankfully, vacant, and I fell into his arms. I couldn’t stop the rush. Everything came to a point and then cascaded over the edge. There was no denying who I was to her any longer.

“Charlie. Charlie, look at me.”

I was barely aware of Max speaking to me. His hands were there again, forcing my gaze to his as he tried to get through to me. I couldn’t wrap my mind around what had happened. I had been so stupid. I should have looked out to the audience during our first number. I hadn’t wanted to—hadn’t wanted to see how many people were there—and really, how was I to have guessed my mom would be there. She wasn’t supposed to be coming until the next day. I had known Ginny would be there, but she already knew. And now my mom knew. She knew I was different, and she knew I’d been lying to her all those years.

I was going to be sick.

I bent forward, trying to keep myself from throwing up on the grass. Max rubbed my back, his touch the only thing anchoring me.

“Charlie, please talk to me. You’re scaring me,” he said.

I stood slowly, not wanting to risk fainting. “My mom. She’s… she’s….”

“Your mom’s here? And she saw us?”

I couldn’t answer. I nodded.

“Fuck,” Max cursed.

“Yeah.”

“Well, what do you want to do? You know I’m in your corner. We can go out there and see her, or I can take you away from here for a while. You call the shots, Charlie.”

I weighed my options. Running away sounded like an incredible idea, and God, I loved Max even more for trying to protect me, but I was going to have to face the music sooner or later.

“I should talk to her.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Max asked.

I nodded again. “Yes, please.” I didn’t know how to tell him, but I needed him. I needed him so much.

We walked together, Max’s hand resting gently on my lower back as we rounded the side of the stage and stepped out in front, where my mom and aunt were still standing. I felt Max drop his hand, and immediately I missed the contact.

“Baby!” my mom exclaimed, throwing her arms around me and pulling me into a hug. Tears spilled out, falling against her shoulder as I hugged her back. “You were so beautiful up there. I’ve never seen you dance like that before. Absolutely breathtaking.”

I couldn’t think. Everything felt like it was happening at light speed and slow motion at the same time. She wasn’t upset. Did she not realize? Did she think it was just a performance? I looked over her shoulder. Ginny was looking at me, her eyes bright. I couldn’t read her expression, but she seemed happy, or hopeful maybe? She opened her mouth to say something, but my mom spoke instead.

“Do you have someone you want to introduce us to?” she asked in the same tone of voice she’d used when I was a kid and she wanted me to say thank you to our waitress, or our grocery clerk, or a relative on the phone who’d sent me an ugly sweater for Christmas.

“Oh. Yes, sorry. This is Max. Max, this is my mom, and you’ve already met Aunt Ginny.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Max,” my mom said, pulling him in for a hug.

I stood there with my mouth hanging open, probably looking like a caught fish. I had no idea what was happening. I’d been terrified for most of my life to even admit to myself I was gay. The thought of my mom finding out had been the most horrifying thought in the world, and here she was, hugging my boyfriend as though he was her long lost son.

She let go of Max, stepped back, and turned to me. “Charlie, maybe you and I should go for a little walk?”

“Okay. Be right back,” I said, feeling momentarily guilty for leaving Max with Ginny, but I needed to talk to my mom. We walked along the pathway that circled through the park. There were lots of people milling around, but I barely noticed them.

“Is there anything you want to tell me?” she asked finally.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I never meant to hurt you or do anything that would make you think less of me… but this summer has opened my eyes to a lot of things, the most important thing being that… I’m gay.” It took everything in me to say those last two words. I felt completely drained.

My mom stopped walking. She turned toward me and took my hands into hers. “I am so proud of you,” she said.

My gaze darted up from our hands to her face. That hadn’t been what I’d expected to hear.

“I don’t understand,” I said.

“I’ve known you were gay since you were five years old.”

“Wh-what? How?” I stuttered.

“You told me you wanted to marry Prince Eric instead of Ariel, and that’s when my suspicions started. I watched you grow up and mature into this wonderful man, but there was always that part of you that you kept carefully hidden. I kept waiting for you to tell me. I thought maybe you hadn’t figured it all out quite yet, but you never said anything. I didn’t want to press.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t know,” I explained. “I didn’t want to admit it to myself. The guys at school… I was so different, and all I wanted was to fit in or not to be noticed. I never wanted to be different—to stand out in any way.”

“And now?”

“I feel like a different person. The boy that left Beacon those months ago is gone, and I’m more me than I’ve ever been, if that makes sense.”

She smiled. “It doesn’t need to make sense to me. All I know is you’re happier than I’ve ever seen you.”

She threw her arms around me once more and held me tight. I couldn’t say anything, my words strangled by my emotions.

“We should probably get back. We’ve abandoned your poor boyfriend with Ginny.”

W
E
SPENT
the rest of the afternoon taking in the festival. There was so much to see and do there was no way we could get to it all, but we tried. After dinner, my mom was fading fast, so we all said good-bye, and I went with her and Ginny back to the apartment. Max looked sad when I left, and truthfully I hated to leave him. I only had a short time left in the city, and although I was happy to see my mom, I missed Max more than anything.

My mom petted my hair as we all sat together watching TV on Ginny’s couch, but all my thoughts centered on Max. My mom yawned, an exaggerated gesture, and stood. “I think I am going to go to bed. It’s been a long day, and I’m getting sleepy.” She leaned forward and kissed my head. “It’s still early, though. Maybe you’d like to visit your friend?”

I watched her walk into her room, and then I looked over at Ginny, a shrewd grin on her face.

“Go on, Sprout. Go find Max. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

I didn’t need to be asked twice. I jumped up, threw my shoes on, and flew out the front door. “See ya later,” I called before the door closed behind me.

I
T
TOOK
me no time at all to hop on the subway and run the remaining distance to Max’s apartment. As I knocked on the door, I realized I probably should have called first, but it was too late now. I waited, shifting my weight from one foot to the other until I heard the click as the lock shifted back, and then there was Max, standing in front of me with nothing but a pair of sweatpants slung low on his hips. His hair was tousled and wet, and it was all I could do to keep from jumping him.

His expression changed from grumpy to elated as he grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside, then slammed me up against the closed door and kissed me until I was breathless. I closed my eyes, memorizing how his mouth felt on mine, the taste of his tongue, the smell of his skin, and the roughness of his hands as he greedily took and I willingly gave.

We broke apart, both panting for air.

“I didn’t think I was going to see you tonight,” he said.

“Me neither, but my mom went to bed early, so here I am.”

“Thank fuck, too. I was contemplating sneaking into your aunt’s place to see you.”

I laughed. “That would have been awkward, because my mom and I are supposed to be sharing a room.”

“Not anymore you’re not. You’re staying here. I’m not letting you go.”

I nuzzled into the smooth skin where his shoulder dipped. “Fine by me.”

“I mean it, Sparky. I’m not letting you go. Not ever. You’re staying here with me.”

My heart fell. Those were the words I wanted more than anything to hear and the words I dreaded hearing at the same time. I wanted that too. I wanted to stay with him, to be with him always, but life didn’t always work out that way. I had responsibilities and commitments I’d made long before Max ever came into my life.

“Let’s not think about it,” I said, trying to placate him. “You have me tonight, so let’s make the most of it.”

The change in mood was tangible. We were both sad, and it was difficult to try to enjoy the night when all we could think about was leaving one another in less than forty-eight hours.

“I can try,” Max assented, “but this is the hardest thing I’ve had to do. I’m not trying to make this more difficult for you. I want you to know how I feel and if things were different—”

“I know,” I said, cutting him off. I couldn’t hear any more. Every word was shattering my heart a little more. So instead, I kissed him. This time it was slow, thorough. The heat built between us, a steady climb higher and higher. I traced my hands along his sides, feeling the subtle peaks and valleys of his ribs, his waist, and his hip bones.

His hands were on me too, sliding underneath my shirt and lifting it over my head. “We should probably take this into my room,” he said, nodding backward toward where Danny was sitting on the couch. There was no porn this time, but he was surrounded by various books and papers.

I followed Max, feeling a bit bashful to have Danny watch me walk through the apartment half-dressed. Once we were safe, locked behind Max’s bedroom door, I exhaled, arching my body against his as he laid me down on the bed. I looked up at him, the light from the lamp shining in a halo around his head. I loved him so much I ached with it.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

W
E
MADE
love that night—there were no other words to describe it. It was slow and sweet and sad. We took our time, exploring each other’s bodies. When we were finished I clung to him, desperate to keep him close. He held me tight, as though, if we held on hard enough, we wouldn’t ever need to let go. No space existed between us as we drifted off to sleep.

When I woke the next morning, Max’s arms were still tight around me. I closed my eyes, savoring the feeling of his skin, warm against mine. I knew this would probably be the last time. It was so bittersweet, being with him like that. I loved him. More than anything.

He stirred next to me, and I pressed a kiss to his shoulder. As he opened his eyes, he smiled at me, his eyes still tired. “Good morning,” he said, his voice still rough from sleep. “How are you feeling?”

“Good, I guess.” I didn’t know how to put into words how I was feeling. Happy to be with him, nervous for the performance later that day, and absolutely devastated this was our last day together. Our kisses were numbered, our minutes finite. I squeezed my eyes shut against the hurt of it.