The Way You Say My Name

At first, Jamie was too startled to respond as Dillon’s mouth came down on his. But as Dillon’s tongue began a slow assault against Jamie’s lips in an effort to get them to open, Jamie felt his body--and his resolve--melting. He opened his mouth and gave Dillon entry.

Dillon teased and tasted him until Jamie thought he would go insane. He could feel the bulge in Dillon’s jeans, which didn’t help his own condition any. It was everything a first kiss should have been, audience or not. Just when Jamie was wondering what the punishment for having sex in the school hallway would be, Dillon pulled away. He kissed the tip of Jamie’s nose and whispered, for Jamie’s ears only, “I’m sorry to embarrass you in front of everybody like this, baby, but I couldn’t think of any other way to show you how I felt.” Before Jamie could answer, Dillon straightened up and turned back to Barnes, shielding Jamie with his body.

“Does that answer your questions, Barnes, or do you have some more for me?”

Ash may have been shocked, but quick recovery was one of the things that made him such a hot commodity on the football field. And his temporary shock had made him no less angry. This time, though, his anger was redirected at Jamie. “God, Walker, you’re somethin’ else. Ben isn’t even cold yet and you’ve already moved on. So much for true love I guess.”

Jamie came out from behind Dillon, his eyes blazing. “What would you know about it, Barnes? You barely even knew Ben. If you and those dickwads you call friends ever spoke to him it was to tell him to fuck off or to call him a queer or a fag. Where in the hell do you get off telling me what I’m supposed to feel?”

“Who you calling a dickwad, Walker?” Chad stepped up. He wasn’t any taller than Jamie, but outweighed him by a good sixty pounds, not that Jamie cared. He could take him.

“You, no-neck. I’ve seen you and Rooster Carmichael hassling Ben more than once.”

Chad took a step forward, but once again, Dillon shielded Jamie with his body. Jamie should have been pissed about being protected like a child, but he wasn’t. Knowing that everything Dillon was doing was done because he cared about him so much made all the difference.

Chad took another step towards Jamie, but Dillon’s next words stopped him cold. “Touch him and you’re a dead man, Minton.”

Ash was on that in a second. “Making threats, Carver? Did you make the same kind of threats to Ben? What did you do, warn him off Walker and when he didn’t back away decide to run him down with your car?”

He knew how Ben had died? Sheriff Nash said that information hadn’t been released to the public yet. “How did you know that Ben was hit by a car?”

Ash shrugged. “Everybody knows. It’s all over town.”

Chad came to stand behind Ash. “What you getting at, Walker? You trying to say Ash had something to do with Lewis’s death? You’re the one who’s cheating on his dead boyfriend.”

Dillon started to say something, but Jamie reached in front of himself and squeezed Dillon’s hand. “Ben was never my boyfriend. He was my best friend, and he knew exactly how I felt about Dillon.” Jamie’s voice dropped and fought hard not to tear up. “I loved Ben, and I’ll miss him for the rest of my life, but we were never in love. There’s a big difference.”

Ash snorted. “Yeah, right. That’s why Ben was licking your tonsils at the dance Friday night.”

He might have said more, but the sharp clacking of footsteps sounding down the hall broke them all apart. Principal Morgan took one look at the four of them, squared off in the center of a mass of onlookers and said, “What’s going on here?”

Ash went first, the suck-up. “Nothing, sir. We were just . . . talking.”

Morgan lifted one perfectly shaped eyebrow and put his hand on his Armani clad hip. How the hell did a high school principal afford Armani, anyway. “Talking, huh? Is that what they call it? Looks more like you were settling in for a sparring match to me.” He looked to Jamie. “James, were these boys bothering you?”

God, Jamie wanted to wipe that smug look off Barnes’s face. But he couldn’t do it without getting Dillon in trouble, too. “No, sir. Like he said, we were just talking.”

Morgan made no bones about his lack of belief, but he must have decided to let it slide, because he said, “Fine then.” He addressed the group as a whole. “All of you, show’s over. Get to class.” He waited until all of the onlookers, and Chad and Ash, left before turning back to Dillon and Jamie. “You want to tell me what really happened, James? Off the record, I swear.”

Jamie shook his head. “It was nothing, Mr. Morgan, I promise.”

“If that’s what you tell me, than that’s what I’ll go with, but just remember, if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me.” He waited until Jamie nodded and then took his exit.

As soon as Morgan left, Megan came charging back from her hiding place on the opposite side of the double doors leading to the main hall. She was out of breath and her face was flushed.

“Boy, do you two know how to make a scene or what? I thought Ash Barnes’s eyes were gonna pop out of his skull when you kissed James like that.”

Dillon leaned down to pick up the books Jamie had dropped earlier. Jamie had forgotten all about it, himself, but he was warmed that Dillon was still taking care of him. Dillon handed the books and papers to Jamie, but his words were for Megan. “Barnes isn’t usually such an ass, but I’m glad, at least, that he knows know where I stand.” Dillon reopened his locker and took out his coat. He fished a twenty out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Listen, Megan, I promised James some lunch, but I’ve got something I need to take care of. Would you mind taking him, instead?” He gave Jamie an affectionate smile. “This guy here still doesn’t know how to drive.”

Jamie shook his head. “I can eat in the cafeteria, and I’ve got my own money.”

Dillon closed his locker and put on his coat. “I know that, but I’m gonna ditch for the rest of the day, and I don’t want you to be alone any more than you have to be. And before you start, I know you can take care of yourself.” His eyes grew soft as he looked at Jamie, making Jamie feel strong and alive. “But you had a bad shock yesterday, and even though you’re feeling better, Nate says these things can boomerang on a guy. Please, just do this for me, okay?”

Jamie wasn’t sure what to say, but Megan stepped in so the point became moot. “We’ll go out to lunch, Dillon, and spend every dime of that hard earned money of yours.” Her tone was light, but Jamie could hear a slight quivering in her voice. “And don’t worry about James. I’ll see that he makes it home this afternoon, safe and sound.”

Home. That’s when it hit Jamie. Dillon wasn’t just ditching school. He was going home to pack. When his mother heard about that kiss--and she would, probably any minute now--Dillon would be thrown out of his own home. Dillon hadn’t just proved his feelings to Ash and Chad. He’d outed himself to the whole world.

Jamie moaned. “Oh, God, Dillon. Your parents. I am so, so sorry.”

Dillon came to stand in front of him, using his left hand to brush Jamie’s hair away from his forehead. “Don’t you dare apologize to me. None of this is your fault. I’m gonna go home and pack up so I’ll be ready to leave by the time they get there. My dad will bitch a little bit, but there’s really not anything he can do.” Dillon leaned forward and nuzzled his nose against Jamie’s. “It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

“Where will you go. What--”

“Shh. I’ll be fine.”

Jamie was getting desperate. “Let me go with you. I can help.”

Dillon shook his head. “I appreciate that, more than you know, but this is something I have to do by myself.” He kissed Jamie one more time and then took off.

Jamie was devastated. He sank back against the lockers and was doing a slow slide to the floor when Megan grabbed his arm and hauled him back up.

“Oh no, you don’t. First rule of a crisis is ‘deal with it, now--fall apart later.’ And this is a crisis if ever I saw one.”

Jamie nodded. When Megan was right, the girl was right. Dillon needed him too much for him to wuss out now. “I’m hoping you have a plan.”

Megan patted his cheek. “One thing you’ll learn about me, James. I always have a plan.”

#

Dillon pulled into the driveway. It was amazing the things a person noticed when he was going home for the last time. The swing hanging from the porch that had a missing slat. The tree he planted for Arbor Day when he was in the fifth grade. And that was just the yard. The interior of the house was no different. When Dillon unlocked the front door and went inside, the creaking of the hinges his father was always after him to oil, coupled with the smell--that smell that was unique to every home, everywhere--was almost enough to make him want to take it all back. But the taste of Jamie, still fresh on his lips, the feel of him, the scent of his hair, was more than enough compensation. Pastor Oakley once preached about that verse from the Bible, “What does it profit a man to gain the whole world and lose his own soul?” At the time, Dillon hadn’t understood, but now he thought he did, only in reverse. He was about to lose everything, the whole world as he knew it. But it didn’t matter. He was getting his soul back. As long as he had Jamie, he could do this. Even though they weren’t technically together again, yet, the last two days had given him hope, something he hadn’t felt for a long time.

The actual packing itself didn’t take long. He’d stopped at a fast food place on the way home and gotten some boxes. He emptied drawers, closets, and shelves, not lost to the irony that his entire worldly goods fit into six large boxes labeled Happy Time Burger Palace. The Place Where Happy Smiles Stretch A Mile.

When he was sure he had everything he wanted to keep, Dillon loaded up his car. It took some doing, but he was able to cram it all in there. Thank goodness he wasn’t a packrat like his brother. It had taken a moving van to get Heath out of the house. Funny, all it took to get Dillon out was one kiss and six boxes.

When he was finished, Dillon moved his car from the driveway to the street and locked it, just in case his dad tried to block him in or stop him from leaving. Not that he would. Dillon was pretty sure Doug Carver would be all too happy to shed himself of his “deviant” son. That done, Dillon came back in and sat down on the couch in the living room to wait. He didn’t have to wait long.

At four thirty, he heard his mother’s car come tearing into the drive. She must have phoned his father from school, because Dillon heard his dad’s Jeep pull in right behind her. Time to face the firing squad.

Angela came in first. Her hair was mussed and Dillon could tell she’d been crying. He might have felt guilty, if not for the first words that came out of her mouth. “Thank God you’re here. I know all about that Walker boy attacking you in the hallway, son. We’re gonna see him prosecuted for trying to molest you like that.”

Doug was in full agreement as he slammed the door behind himself and motioned for Dillon to stand. “Get your coat, Dillon. We’ll go down to the police station right now and press charges. We’re going to the city cops, too. No use in trying to get any help from that pansy sheriff. We’re going to bust Walker for trying to force himself on you.”

Dillon stood up, but made no move towards his coat. “You’ve got it backwards. I’m the one who kissed James, not the other way around.”

“Nonsense. Now, you get your coat right this minute, and your mother and I may be willing to forgive you for your insolence last night and that lie you’re spinning right now.”

“It’s not a lie. I kissed James. I can get any number of people to back up my story. How do you think Mom heard about it? Dozens of witnesses saw me back him up against the lockers and stick my--”

“Stop it!” His father’s face was turning a mottled red as he tugged against his shirt and tie. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, son, but I will not have that kind of filth talked about in my house.”

Angela went in search of the phone book, finally finding it in a side table drawer. Flipping through, she said, “I’ll tell you what’s gotten into him. That James Walker has lured him into this. What we need now, Doug, is to cancel out his influence. A friend of mine told me about a good doctor just outside Chicago who’s excellent at deprogramming kids who’ve been brainwashed like this.”

Brainwashed? Good God. “Mom, I don’t need to be deprogrammed. I’m gay, not a cult member.”

Doug snorted. “Same difference. I warned you what would happen if you kept hanging around that damned Nash family. Every last one of them is going to hell for sanctioning that sham marriage between Brandon Nash and that doctor of his. What did those two do, son? Get you alone and play around with you a little?”

Angela warmed to the idea. “That’s it. Instead of calling the doctor we should call the police, but for Nathan and Brandon Nash instead of James Walker. Dillon just turned eighteen, which means he was probably a minor when it happened. We could have the Nash’s arrested for raping him.”

Dillon could feel himself starting to lose control. He did his best to rein it in. “No one did anything to me. Neither Brandon nor Nathan Nash would ever touch me. And like I said, I kissed Jamie because I wanted to. I’ve been wanting to for years.”

Doug took his coat off and slapped it down on the coffee table. “I’ll not stand here and listen to my son talk about being a damned . . . a worthless . . .”

“A what, Dad? What is it you usually call us? Poofs? Queers? Sodomites? I don’t think there’s one I haven’t heard yet.”

Doug was so mad his eyes were bulging, but Angela wasn’t ready to give up the whole coercion theory. “Honey, these feelings you’re having aren’t real. This is James Walker’s fault, all of it. He has you in thrall, darling. He’s responsible for this . . . this,” try as she might, she couldn’t seem to find the right words.

Dillon knew exactly what to say. Listening to his parents stand there and slam Jamie like he was some evil guru was taking its toll. “What’s the word you’re looking for, Mom? You insist James is responsible for my being gay, so let’s think up a good word for that. Metamorphosis? Nah, too much like a butterfly, and those are beautiful, whereas us sinners are ugly. How about ‘the change?’”

Doug’s voice was solid steel. “Stop it.”

But Dillon was beyond listening. “You’re right. The change sounds too much like a female thing. We homos may be girlie boys, but not quite that girlie, huh, Dad? I’ve got it. How about ‘gayification?’ As in, ‘James is responsible for my ‘gayification.’ Wonder if they make a repellent for that? You know, some spray that keeps all those gay germs at bay. Something like, ‘Gay be Gone,’ or ‘Gay Away.’”

Douglas took a menacing step towards his son. “I’m warning you now, Dillon. Shut up.”

“No, Dad. You shut up. Shut up with all the slams against Jamie and all the excuses you keep throwing out so you won’t have to face the truth. I’m gay, Dad. I’m a fag. A great big butt-fucking one. God willing, I’m gonna marry Jamie and we’re gonna settle down and raise lots of little fagglets together.”

“Dammit, I said that’s enough.” Douglas raised his hand and was about to strike when a voice at the door said, “Go ahead, Carver. I’d love a chance to lock your ass up for assault.”

All heads turned at once to see Brandon Nash standing in the doorway, Megan and Jamie behind him. Brandon unclipped a pair cuffs from his belt. “Go ahead, Dougie. We’re waiting.”

If there was one thing Dillon’s father hated more than gays, it was being called Dougie. But even as filled with rage as he was, he wasn’t stupid enough to go after Brandon. Instead he looked down at Dillon. “Get out of my house. You’re not welcome here, anymore.”

Angela was crying, but Dillon ignored it. Grabbing up his jacket, he started for the door. He’d almost made it to where Brandon and the others waited, when Douglas said, “Dillon?”

“Yes, sir?” He almost choked on that ingrained bit of respect, but he got it out, anyway.

If Doug felt anything for his son besides disgust, he didn’t show it. “Give me back your house key, boy. If and when you come to your senses and ask for forgiveness from this path to Hell you’ve chosen, then you can come back. Until then, if you step one foot onto this property, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing and breaking and entering.” He turned back to Brandon. “Did you get that, Sheriff Nash?”

Brandon gave him a two fingered salute. “I hear ya loud and clear, Dougie, and I’m sure Dillon did, too. That’s the thing about the braying of a jackass. It’s pretty hard to miss.”

Douglas was just before having some kind of seizure, he was so pissed, but Dillon didn’t so much as look at him. He pulled the house key off his key ring and laid it on the coffee table. Without a second glance towards either of the two people who brought him into the world, Dillon left.

Outside, the frigid evening air helped to clear his head. As soon as they were off the driveway and on the public street, Jamie all but flew into his arms. He nearly knocked Dillon over, but Dillon could have cared less. Jamie felt so damn good against his chest, Dillon didn’t care if the two of them ended up in a pile on the street.

Jamie slid his arms into Dillon’s coat so that he was as close to actual skin as he could get. “Thank God you’re okay. I was worried sick.”

Dillon hugged him tight and took a long, deep breath of his hair. “I’m fine, James. I told you I would be.” He glanced over Jamie’s head at Brandon. “I owe you more than I can ever pay back, man. Thanks.” He grinned next at Megan. “And the same goes for you, baby girl. I have a feeling you’re behind all this.”

Brandon said, “Yeah, and that’s a bone I’ve got to pick with you, kid. I told you to call me anytime you needed me. Why, then, do I have to hear that you’re in a boat load of trouble from my baby sister, and not from you? I told you to call anytime, day or night. You called Nate yesterday to help out with James, but you wouldn’t call me to help out with that prick you call a dad. It’s enough to give a guy a complex, I tell you.”

Dillon felt Jamie laugh against his chest, and he couldn’t help but smile himself. “I’m sorry, Sheriff, uh, Brandon. It won’t happen again. I just didn’t want to be a bother.”

“Well, next time, you call. As far as being a bother goes, that’s what family is for.”

Dillon raised one eyebrow. “Family?”

Brandon shrugged. “That’s right. Family. I figure if being the fake boyfriend of my baby sister for almost five months doesn’t make us related, then what does? So, from now on, you call.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now, did you get all your stuff from the house?”

Dillon nodded, still refusing to let go of Jamie. “Yep. It’s all in my car.”

“Good. I want you to come stay with Nate and me.” Dillon started to speak, but Bran said, “No arguments, either. I called Nate at the hospital, and he’s all for it.”

Jamie pulled back so he could look Dillon in the eye. “You don’t have to, Dillon. You can come stay with me.”

Dillon traced the line of his cheek with one finger. “We’re not ready for that, yet. You know it as well as I do.”

“I know, but I’m the one who got you kicked out of your house.”

“No, you didn’t. My parents kicked me out. We both knew this was gonna happen.”

The sound of a truck coming up the street stopped the conversation. Dillon almost did a double take when he recognized the vehicle. Heath.

Heath parked behind Dillon’s Lumina and got out, walking over to where they stood. “Nice night for a family reunion, huh?

Dillon looked back towards the house. He could almost feel his parents peering out through the picture window in the living room, trying to see into the rapidly falling dusk. He ignored the prickling of the hairs on the back of his neck and gave his full attention to his brother. “Heath, what are you doing here?”