Open Hearts

 

 

 

 

“Keaton, it’s late!” My mother pleaded with me, dressed in her nightly bath robe. 

 

“I don’t care! If you don’t take me then I’ll go by myself!” 

 

My mother, genuinely unimpressed with my threat, only responded with a sigh. Her tired eyes and diminished guard was her answer. I could see the worried and pained expression on her face. She knew that her duties as a mother involve decisions like this. She quietly debated her options, argued internally with her very conscience, then came to a decision. 

 

“Okay, get in the car, let’s go honey.” She grabbed her keys, but my father stopped her.

 

“It’s okay, you stay with the boys, I’ll take him.” She stared back at him, building up some sort of defense, but ultimately agreed. I, on the other hand, did not wait for either of them to decide. I didn’t care who drove. I didn’t care who shared this trauma with me. I just needed to get to the hospital, I just needed to see him.

 

“Keaton?” The voice creaked. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” The record of his voice repeated on an endless loop that polluted every bit of my brain activity. It was the only thing worth focusing on as we drove off into the night. I didn’t want to be distracted, but I couldn’t deal with the voice either. 

 

It was as if an elephant perched its massive body right onto my chest. Each breath was sharp and short lived, because I couldn’t muster enough strength to enjoy the air I was so desperately craving. I was suffocating in that passenger seat, but I was still breathing. Just enough to live, just enough to suffer. 

 

Hospitals always smell the same, like fresh sheets bathed in generic detergent, and sanitizer. And somewhere, hidden between the two, the smell of death is hinted at with every inhale. What place houses more sorrow than this one? Even funeral homes are accompanied by a sense of relief and understanding. They’ve already passed, death has come, and it has gone. Acceptance will surely follow soon, but not here. Here, death arrives swiftly, and without notice. Diseases become the topic of discussion as family members cling to their loved ones. Limbs are removed, syringes are injected into bloodstreams, hearts begin to fade into a silent rest that may never end, only here does life become a game. The dice is thrown, it falls ever so slowly, making the softest clink as it makes impact. That noise echoes, breathes are cut short, hearts hesitate, and lives are judged. Did you win? Did the bullet miss your artery by a centimeter? Did the shrapnel only graze your spinal cord? Did the team of professionals become suddenly less human and perform their duties without mistake? Or did life’s cruel randomness equal your sudden demise?

 

I raced down the halls, the floors, walls, and even ceiling were dressed in white. This made everything blur even more as I struggled to stay focused on my goal. Passing each occupied room, I caught glimpses of life in it’s entirety. Death, pain, suffering, it lurked through these halls like a toxic gas. The only thing that could drown out the pain, was the soft robotic beep of heart monitors. And when they would fade, the tears would follow. What this place was missing, and what I was so desperately seeking, was love. 

 

“13… 15… 17… where… where…” I shifted my balance and threw myself around the corner, skidding to an abrupt halt as I saw my destination. Room 19, I finally found it. 

 

The door was open, this was the emergency room after all, life took priority over rest and privacy. Three people occupied the small space this room gave. A nurse, Sigve, and the patient. Soon it would become four, and then five as my dad followed me in. A collective silence took the room once we entered, but I have a feeling this silence was present for some time before our arrival. 

 

The nurse looked to me and my father, then to Sigve. “I’ll be back soon, hit that call button there if you need me.” She looked back to us once again, nodded in my direction, and left the room. I don’t know what she was trying to tell me. Could she see the anguish I was enduring? Was that nod supposed to comfort me, or was it just acknowledging my pain?

 

Sigve didn’t bat an eye to us. Staring down at the body in the bed before him, he gently stroked the soft flesh of the occupant’s hand. His tear-stricken face was seemingly emotionless. Only the red streaks and tired eyes told the story of a man who has suffered recently. But now, his suffering is internal, locked away inside of him, holding him hostage, with a dagger pressed against his heart. 

 

The occupant of the hospital bed did not return the gesture by clenching his father’s hand. It laid motionless, absent of all ability to feel the love it was receiving. But still, a father will never let go. 

 

I crept forward, not in an effort to be stealthy, but because each step was pulling me closer to a truth that I was afraid to realize. Answers were lying in that hospital bed, but I was afraid to face them. I wanted to run. Run back out of the room, out of the hospital, and away from reality. If only my legs could carry me far enough to outrun the truth. Sadly, they cannot. 

 

I approached carefully, dragging each foot forward coordinated with each breath I could manage to find. Foot by foot, inch by inch, the trek across the confined hospital room felt like miles on my body. But I arrived, sooner than I wished, to the side of his bed. My hand left my side, subconsciously looking for the answers that I wasn’t prepared for. It slid its way over the textured plastic frames and onto the scraggly fabric of the comforter. Across the blankets, over the IV tube, and eventually my hand scraped against the rough edge of a hospital bracelet. 

 

My eyes climbed upward, looking for his face. I searched for even the faintest hints of familiarity. The tubes, the bandages, they hid away the boy I love. My fingers stretched around his wrist and gently grasped his open palm. They curled around his until I could feel the soft flesh hugging mine. Finally, something familiar. 

 

Deep breaths, deep breaths, and finally… exhale. 

 

His hand reflected the warmth of life unto mine. I almost fainted from the relief, but still felt so lightheaded that I had to brace myself against the arm of the bed. Bjorn once described to me the feeling of a body with no life in it. He couldn’t shake how cold they were, it still haunted him. I feared that same feeling of lifelessness when I took his hand into mine. But finally, something familiar. His warmth, it still radiated through his body and into mine. It kept me breathing, it kept me alive. 

 

Bjorn hasn’t left this world, and I hadn’t lost my best friend. I felt guilty asking for more than this, but still, I must know. 

 

What happened to him? When will he be awake? When can I tell him I love him again? 

 

This whirlwind of emotions hit like a freight train. I was no longer blessed with the unknown, because it just as quickly became my curse. I squeezed his hand, but it did not squeeze back. I looked at his face, bruised, bandaged, and mostly obscured by a breathing machine, there was no answers there either. Like the drip of his IV, my tears fell softly onto the bed. 

 

“What happened to him?” I croaked. 

 

It was a question meant for no one in particular, but only Sigve could answer it. Only his words could give me the platform to stand on. Sigve inhaled deeply, stroked his son’s hand and sucked in sharply through his nose to clear the snot. No man, not even one of Sigve’s stature, was immune to emotion. He cleared his throat and tried to erase the sound of pain in his voice, to no avail of course. 

 

“He… A car hit him. He was walking home from somewhere and… I… I just don’t know.”

 

Sigve’s normally loud voice, which could easily echo throughout these hospital halls, was reduced to a broken and hushed whisper. 

 

“But, much like his mom, he’s strong.” Through his scraggly beard, Sigve cracked a slight smile. 

 

“Only he would be capable of this. Doctor said it’s a miracle… I don’t agree. It’s in his blood, a survivor, that’s what he is. He gets it from her, it’s the lasting gift that he will always carry.” His volume slightly raised as the passion in him burned brighter and brighter. Few people could do that. Not many people could look down at their child, broken and hurt, and praise them for their strength. But Sigve defined what a proud father is. Bjorn wasn’t just his son, he was his champion. And like a coach after a tough loss, he saw this opportunity to speak proudly of his son and what he accomplished, nothing else mattered to him.

 

“I’m glad you’re here Keaton. He’ll be glad to see you when he wakes up. But it might not be for some time. He might be out all night.” Sigve looked past me to my father. I can call you tomorrow and let you know when to bring him back-“ 

 

“You can’t make me leave! I deserve to be here… he deserves to have me here! He never left my side when I needed him… he deserves the same in return.” I interjected.

 

“No one is saying you don’t deserve to be here, it’s just best-“

“Forget it Sigve.” My father interrupted. “I’m in no hurry to wrestle my son into the car and strap him to his bed like a mental patient. Neither you, nor I, will be able to stop him from staying. Keaton, let’s get something to drink from the cafeteria and then we can come back to see Bjorn. 

 

I rejected the notion of leaving, even for the shortest amount of time. But since my dad was agreeing to let me stay, I accepted his compromise. We left the room, his hands on my shoulders, guiding me toward the cafeteria.

 

“Who could do something like this? Why did they hit him, why couldn’t they have just swerved out of the way!?” Again, these questions were aimed in no particular direction, I was just begging for answers out loud. 

 

“Things happen Keaton. I’m sure they weren’t trying to hit him. It was dark, accidents happen, but at least he’s going to be okay.” 

 

I was angry. And these logical responses aren’t soothing the seething rage that is oozing from every pore on my body. But… at least my dad is trying to comfort me… I’ll give him that. 

 

When we returned, with my cheap and water downed coffee in hand, I saw the nurse from earlier step into the room just before us. I hurried in after her once I heard her voice raise slightly in an excited tone. In the doorway all I could see was her back as she blocked Bjorn’s upper body. I tried to enter the room, but my dad caught me and held me in place as she attended to him. 

 

“Well you gave us all quite the scare there young man. Now breathe in and out slowly for me. Good, just a few more times. Great, well, here’s the laundry list fella. You broke your left leg, you’ve cracked a few ribs and finally, dislocated your left shoulder. Not to mention your cuts and bruises. So, you’re going to stay with us for a little while, we need to monitor that head of yours to make sure it’s okay. Right now, it’s important you don’t move too much. If you and dad agree to it, a catheter might be your best option, and it’ll be best if you eat mostly ice chips for tonight. A few more people might stop by to ask you and dad some questions, but tonight it’s important that we focus on resting.” 

 

During her speech the nurse filled out charts, took notes, and checked his vitals amongst other things. “I’ll be back in just a few minutes honey, you sit tight.” The nurse signed off as she turned away from him, nodded to us, and then exited the room. 

 

Finally, I could see Bjorn. 

 

He was facing away from us as we entered, but I could tell they had removed his breathing machine and some of the bandages. It wasn’t until his dad motioned toward us with his eyes that Bjorn turned his head to his other guests. 

 

He tried to smile, but the corner of his lips just twitched slightly. Then his eyes, glazed over with sadness and exhaustion, blinked so slowly, I feared he’d fall asleep on me. I shuffled to his bed and similar to before, grabbed his hand to stroke it softly. I set my coffee down and then we shared a solemn stare. I couldn’t find the words or the courage to speak and Bjorn wasn’t much help either. He didn’t embody the same vigor as usual. A nasty cut trailed from the corner of his eye to his left temple. His youthful boyish features were masked by large bruises under each eye socket. His lip was busted, his eyebrow was split, even his smooth pale cheek was ridden with small abrasions and bruises. All of these injuries were focused on the left side of his body. Similar to a lesser degree of the Batman villain Two-Face. He was still the handsome boy that made me swoon with each passing glance, but now he looks as if he participates in a bare knuckle fight club. 

 

“Bjorn, why… how did this happen?” I perused cautiously, my voice creaking like the floors of an old wooden home. 

 

He looked offended as if the question was taboo. His sorrowfulness clouded his eyes and forced him to look away in shame. Then he closed them, slowly turned his head back to his father, and asked if we could have a minute alone. His father, still reveling in the fact that his son is conscious, objected to leaving his side so soon. My dad jumped in to assist luckily. 

 

“Sigve, let’s get you a cup of coffee too. Keaton and Bjorn deserve a moment before I take him home. And you deserve a moment to breathe.”

 

My father's diplomacy once again worked out. Sigve reluctantly stood from his chair, bent over to kiss Bjorn's forehead, then left the room with my dad. 

 

I thought this moment of privacy would make Bjorn open up, especially since it was his suggestion, but his eyes remained facing away from me and silence overtook the room once again. 

 

“Well, what happened Bjorn?” 

 

“I… uhm… can you… can you get in bed with me?” He muttered with a glimmer of hope trailing from his question. 

 

It was definitely not allowed for me to share the bed with him. There wasn’t much room either, but I couldn’t and wouldn’t say no to him. I made my way to the other side of the bed and climbed in carefully. Scanning for wires or obstacles, I slid into the open space he made but remained on top of the blankets. We were shoulder to shoulder and filled all of the space the bed could offer. I don’t think it was comfortable for either of us physically, but mentally it was like the lighting of a beloved candle. Like your candle warms and fills the room with your favorite scent, the physical contact between us filled our souls with warmth and remembrance. I felt his tension decline and he sank into the bed as if he was melting. He breathed deeper, rubbed my leg with his hand, and finally let go. 

 

“I messed up Keaton. I messed up really bad.” His voice cracked. 

 

“How, how did you mess up?” 

 

He paused, swallowed the pain in his throat and tried to continue. 

 

“You know, I tried really hard. I thought I could do it too. I thought I could deal with you giving me the cold shoulder. I knew you were upset. I knew I messed up. And I knew it would be better eventually. But I just couldn't… I couldn’t stop saying sorry. I wanted to say it every moment we were apart.” 

 

“I told you already to just let it go Bjorn, it wasn't that big of a deal. But what does any of this have to do with you being hurt?” 

 

“It is a big deal. I saw the way you looked at me. Like… like you were scared of me" Bjorn's conviction faded into a whimper and the tears followed soon after. 

 

“I didn’t want that Keaton! I didn’t want you to be afraid of me or hate me; Not even for a moment. I can’t take that back. And no matter how hard I tried… none of my apologies could fix it.” 

 

“You're wrong, I didn’t hate you. I never could have-"

 

“You did. I saw it. I saw the cold stare. I knew you didn’t want me around you. And it was all my fault. So tonight… I tried to make that memory go away.” 

 

“What did you do Bjorn?” 

 

Another moment of silence fell between us. I spent it eagerly awaiting his words, holding my breath until he took his. 

 

“I went to a friend’s house. He had some drinks there, and I wanted some. I figured it was the best way to forget. So I had a few, and then a few more.” 

 

“How did you get hit by the car?”

 

“I was walking home, almost crawling I guess. And then I saw the headlights coming at me. I was just walking forward. I don’t know how or why I stepped off the sidewalk. At some point I just started following the lights instead of the path. And then bam, I'm laying in a bed, telling my boyfriend how much I hate myself. I know I shouldn't have drank. I don't have a problem I swear. I just needed some relief. I needed to forget.” 

 

We laid there in silence again. The only change in the room was I had moved my body so that I laid on my side facing him. I took the time to wipe at the tears that escaped his eyes. Weirdly, I didn’t share his tears like usual. I guess I was still confused about how to react. Of course I was sad, but more so I was hurt. I felt guilty for Bjorn's injuries. If I hadn’t pushed him away, he wouldn't have gone out drinking like he did. But if I tell him this, it’ll surely crush him. He won’t let me take the blame for his mistakes. But truthfully I think this entire mess is a combination of mistakes. Like a symphony of fuck-ups from two people who have no clue what they are doing. In the end, none of that matters.

 

Bjorn is still here and so am I. Even though I have the strong urge to yell at him and lecture about how to deal with feelings, I won’t. Honestly,  I would have been prone to make the same mistakes he did. So instead I'm just going to take pleasure in the fact that he is alive. I'm reminded of his life every time the warm droplets run from his eye and onto my fingertip. Even though I don’t take pleasure in him crying, I find this sign of life oddly comforting. 

 

Thank the universe that I still have Bjorn. 

 

“Young man, those beds are meant for only one person.” The nurse announced in stride as she burst into the room. 

 

“Now if you don’t mind, my patient needs his room. And it’s about time you say your goodbyes, visiting hours are almost up.” 

 

“Can I just have one more minute with him?” 

 

“If you get out of the bed and let me take my notes, you can have five more minutes before I kick you out. Deal"

 

“Deal.” 

 

Her pen flew between boxes, lines and charts as she stained the paper with a jumble of numbers. Numbers so pointless to me and Bjorn, but quite literally vital to someone like her. 

 

I crawled from the bed carefully, avoiding the mess of wires protruding from every possible source. 

 

Bjorn's hand reached out and caressed the back of my shirt as I left his side. Clearly, neither of us were ready to be apart. 

 

The nurse stayed true to her promise and gave us a few more minutes alone. Our dads would be back soon and I'd be forced to leave him so I had to get my farewells out soon. 

 

“You know, this means I’ll get to be your nurse until you recover.”

 

“You don't think she’s doing a good job?”

 

“I mean at home dork.” 

 

“Oh… oh lord.” 

 

“What? You don’t think I can do it?” 

 

“Didn’t say that, but I’ll pretend I’m not scared.” 

 

“Oh come on, you'll have someone to kiss your booboo's" 

 

“Yeah whatever.”

 

“And massage your aching body.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“And give you sponge baths.”

 

“Alright you've sold me. You can be my nurse Keaty.” 

 

“I knew you'd come around.” I leaned over the rail and snuck a quick kiss before a pair of footsteps shuffled into the room behind me. 

 

“Keaty, Bjorn needs his rest, let’s go home and we can see him tomorrow.” My dad echoed from the doorway.

 

With a sigh and subsequent shoulder shrug, I backed away from the side of his bed and returned to my father’s side. I waved away my final goodbyes for tonight and left Bjorn to rest. My father led me down the halls with his arm around my shoulders. He offered words of encouragement whenever he could find them. 

 

“He’s looking pretty good for someone who just got run over.” And “He'll be fine Keaton, don't worry about Bjorn. Sigve is right, he's strong.” 

 

I shrugged off most of his ramblings, I already believed in the message he was preaching. Bjorn was going to be okay and I just had to wait. It didn’t take much convincing, the emotional stress felt like my brain was sprinting along a never-ending treadmill. Even now that the treadmill has slowed down, I’m too exhausted to even continue. I reached the finish line on the car ride home. My temple was pressed against the glass of the passenger window and small streams of drool were running down my cheek. 

 

I only woke up when I felt the vibrations from the motor cease and the hum of the engine faded into the quiet of the night. I instinctively and sleepily and pulled against the handle and dragged myself out of the car. I blinked and found myself at the doorway. I blinked again to see myself halfway up the stairs. And once more I blinked to find myself face down in my sheets, my cousins sound asleep on the pallet of blankets on the floor. Just before sleep overtook me into its warm clutches, a small audible ding rang from my shorts pocket. It was a grim reminder that the outside world still exists, and also I need to undress before I sleep. 

 

Against my better judgement I gave the message a look, just on the off chance Bjorn still had his phone. But it wasn’t Bjorn who texted me, it was a message on Facebook from someone I didn’t know. I rarely use any social media, but I still get notifications from them occasionally. I assumed it was a friend request or message from an elderly relative who just wanted to chat and connect with me. But upon further inspection, no, it wasn’t a name I recognized. 

 

Sky Calebs. Interesting name, if I’ve seen it before I would think I would have remembered it. Its probably a bot or random stranger. But just in case, I’ll give it a read. 

 

“Hey Keaton, I really hope this is the Keaton I think it is or this is going to be embarrassing. I’ve heard about you and Bjorn. I think it’s pretty cool you guys are dating and not afraid to tell people. I’ve been out for a year or so but only to my parents. No one else knows, except you now of course. 

 

I’m not exactly sure why I’m messaging you. I guess I’ve just had no one to talk to before. I know you don’t know me, but I was hoping we could talk. Texting or in person, it doesn’t really matter. I hope I don’t come off as desperate, it’s just… that I am lol. Well anyways thanks for reading this if you even did. Hope to hear from you soon.” 

 

I was taken back from his outreach. I didn’t think about there being other gay kids at our school. He seemed so comfortable asking to talk to me, even if it was out of desperation. The request seemed similar to a business deal. Almost as if I was like some sort of celebrity and he needed to meet me. I was intrigued though. It'd be nice to have another friend besides Bjorn and Sky sounded nice. Being gay was just a plus in my book. I decided to write back immediately. 

 

“That sounds like a good idea Sky. I’m too tired to chat tonight, but tomorrow I’ll text you. Maybe we can hang out soon if I find the time. Ttyl.” 

 

I hit send, closed my phone, and made every effort to remove my clothes with as little energy use as possible. Once I slid from my restraints I fell asleep with growing anticipation for tomorrow. Hopefully Bjorn will be able to leave the hospital and I can see him in his own bed. And maybe this Sky person will be super cool and I can have a gay best friend and a boyfriend all in a matter of months. Its ambitious but possible I guess. 

 

-

 

Eat your eggs Keaty. My fork stirred and circled the ceramic saucer, pushing the eggs from side to side, meshing the yolk into the remnants of my pancake. I ignored my mother’s complaints and continued my nervous assault on my food. 

 

Bjorn texted me this morning and told me not to go to the hospital because he would be coming home soon. It’s been a few hours now and no new updates. 

 

I pulled my phone from my pocket for the 15th time this hour. Nothing from him yet but the Facebook app on my homescreen reminded me of my conversation with Sky. I said I'd text him today, and even though I’m not in the mood to be friendly right now, maybe texting him will distract me. 

 

When I opened Facebook it refreshed automatically, bringing up a small window indicating a new message. Sky replied to me last night while I was asleep. 

 

“Thank you for replying. I was afraid you didn’t use that Facebook anymore, you don’t post much. Anyways can’t wait to hear from you.” 

 

I typed eagerly under the table. Across from me I could hear my dad quietly explaining to my mom what happened last night. And on the other side of me Jackie's determination to inhale his pancakes made it hard to hear anything other than smacking lips and aggressive chewing. 

 

“So I’m guessing you go to school with me and Bjorn, I don’t think I’ve met you yet.” A few moments later a small bubble near his profile went green to show he was online. He responded quickly. 

 

“I have a class with you both actually. Well one with Bjorn in it and one with you. I’m pretty quiet I guess. But we have science together, you sit next to David near the back. I’m more towards the front.” 

 

I clicked on his small profile icon to bring up his page. I scrolled past a few photos of pets, vacations and food until I found a good picture of him. He was standing next to someone much younger, maybe a younger brother, on the beach in just swim shorts. He was pale, blonde, and kind of cute. Almost like a smaller framed version of Bjorn without defining features. Bjorn had a prominent jawline and nose that gave away his heritage. Sky had a little button nose and a rounded face. It seems like he shed the baby fat but can’t get rid of his baby face. It works for him though, I found myself almost staring too long at his features and naked torso. I quickly returned to the messenger app. 

 

“Oh yeah I think I remember you now. So what made you reach out to me? Sorry if that sounds rude at all, I’m just not that interesting.”

 

“But you are! You and Bjorn are the talk of the whole school! Like when you two got in a fight and you stepped in and beat that bully up! And also when Bjorn gave you the teddy bear at lunch and everyone was watching! I think my heart melted. No one at our school was out like you two. Not to mention how open you guys are. All the girls are talking about how cute you guys are and how the hot guys are always gay. All of the guys are either jealous with how popular you guys have become, or defending you from the shit-talkers who try to bad mouth you two. Seriously! I’ve heard random boys stand up for you two when you’re not around. Everyone knows you two. Sorry if I sound like fanboy, it’s just that I couldn’t have imagined ever coming out to my friends until you two came along.” 

 

Sky's comments shook me to my very core. A wave of unsolicited pride came over me. I can’t believe it. Does Sky really think of me and Bjorn that way? He’s fanning over us like a comic book geek meeting the actor of his favorite marvel movie character. Are we really that influential? 

 

“Wow. I didn’t think about it like that. I didn’t know I was popular. Bjorn maybe, but not me. It’s really cool you’re thinking about coming out to your friends. It’s scary, but I’m sure you already know that. But the relief you'll feel once it’s over is like dropping a backpack full of bricks to the ground. You finally be able to breathe again. I know that sounds weird, but you’ll see what I mean.” 

 

“I can’t wait to tell you how it goes. Thanks for the words of encouragement. Hey, you said you would try and find time for us to hangout, so what are you up to today?” 

 

My fingers started typing out a novel about Bjorn being in an accident and how he needed help today, but I quickly deleted all of that and left just a blank text box in front of me. It felt odd to blurt out that personal information about Bjorn. I know it’s not a secret and everyone at school will eventually know, but I don't think it’s my place to say it first. Then again I don’t want to just shrug Sky off and tell him I’m busy for some undisclosed reason. I do want to make friends with him after all. Maybe I can do both. 

 

Just then I got a text from Bjorn, he was on his way home from the hospital. I’ve got to see him first no doubt, but I don’t see why I can’t hangout with Sky later. 

 

“I’m busy atm. But if you’re free we can hang out later today.” 

 

“Sure, sounds good. You can come hang out at my place later if you want. I’m sure you could even stay the night if you feel like it. Text me when you’re available.” 

 

I might just make a new friend today. A cute and gay friend at that… oh man I can’t tell Bjorn. 

 

I left my half eaten breakfast at the table and strolled over to my French press. The water on the stove was close to boiling so I’ll pulled the pan quickly and poured it into the cylinder that housed my coffee grounds. The hot water sank and pulled the lump of coarsely ground beans to the surface. The grounds would sit in the water for four minutes before I would plunge the strainer through them, and thus create my brew of bold and robust coffee. This is my preferred way of brewing, although the result, I admit, is sometimes too strong for even me too handle.

 

“You shouldn’t drink that on a empty stomach honey.” My mother chimed.

 

“I ate some of it, I’m just not that hungry.” 

 

“Is it because of Bjorn coming home? I saw you buried in your phone.” She added. 

 

“Is Bernie going to be okay?” Jackie squealed nervously. 

 

“He’s going to be fine. It’s just going to be awhile before he can go swimming with us again.” 

 

“But we'll be leaving soon!” he whimpered with a tinge of sad realization. 

 

“Well yeah, but that means by the time you guys come back here the next time you’re on vacation Bjorn will be all better!” I said with forced enthusiasm.

 

He still looked down but only for a moment as he hung onto the phrase “next time" in his mind. I’m sure he'll go back to Florida and beg to come back here next weekend, as if it were the simplest request to fill. I’m sure Jackie and Jordan will be visiting us again relatively soon, but probably not till next summer. 

 

I grabbed my French press and poured myself a mug hurriedly. Bjorn will be home soon and I can't wait to see him. Even in his dejected and broken state last night, he still maintained an aura of sexiness around him. Like a warrior returning from battle, freshly wounded and exuding the energy of life, his cuts and bruises displayed his strength. And while Bjorn isn’t a Viking warrior like his ancestors, and he’s still much more cute than sexy, I still find his “battle scars" to be strangely attractive. 

 

And most importantly, I want to be the first to sign his cast. Which is why I equipped myself with a few sharpies before leaving the house. 

 

I knocked three times on his faded red door. I wonder how long it will be before I can just walk right into his house like it was my second home. I don’t think Sigve would be in love with the idea though. 

 

Speaking of Sigve, he opened the door and let me in to the house, quietly lecturing me as he ushered me to Bjorn's room. 

 

“Bjorn needs to keep resting and not hurt himself more, so no horseplay in here. Try not to stay too long either so he can sleep some today. I’m going to go get some food for dinner and painkillers for him, I’ll be back soon. Remember Keaton, let him rest.” He said as he patted my back just a little too hard and pushed me into Bjorn's room. 

 

Bjorn was still getting settled into his bed when I entered. There was a cast on his left leg and a sling over his left arm and shoulder. He had a brace over his left hand and wrist as well. There was gause bandages that traveled around his ribcage, under his arm and over his injured shoulder. He was tugging at the sheet under his cast, trying to get one part of it to come loose. I can see he was getting visibly frustrated so I rushed over to help. 

 

“Just lay down and let me do it.” I insisted. 

 

I lifted his cast slightly off of the bed and stretched the bed sheet out properly. Then I grabbed his blanket, which had fallen to the floor after he inadvertently kicked it, and pulled it up to his waist. He breathed a sigh of relief but still looked uncomfortable. 

 

“How are you feeling?” I asked as I stroked his hair, pushing the strands away from the cuts around his face and cheek. 

 

“Like shit!” he said abruptly. 

 

“I felt better last night because of the drugs they gave me. Now that they’ve worn off, everything hurts. My neck hurts, my shoulder, my leg, my back, it all hurts!” he groaned.

 

“Okay okay, everything hurts huh? Well your dad is going to get painkillers now. In the meantime… I guess I can umm, maybe give you a massage?” 

 

“Keaton, I love you, but if you touch me ill scream.” 

 

“Alright, point taken. Well, what about something to drink?” 

 

Bjorn breathed another sigh of pure frustration. 

 

“Yeah, that’d be nice. Sorry I’m cranky. Can you make some coffee for us? Make sure I get cream and sugar though.” He asked sweetly with a forced smile. 

 

I happily obliged and went off into the kitchen to make us coffee. Bjorn seems a bit testy, but considering the circumstances I can’t blame him. I’ll just keep being sweet and hopefully he'll be able to relax a little. I returned a few minutes later with two mugs of java. I set his on the nightstand next to him and took a seat at the end of his bed. I pondered the idea of telling him my nightly plans with Sky. I wondered if I should even mention Sky's existence. 

 

I looked over at his leg cast. I started to fiddle with his toes that stuck out of the end. He let me go about my fun and sipped his coffee. As I nervously poked and prodded his toes, I let Sky race around in my thoughts. 

 

“So uh… this kid messaged me on Facebook last night. He goes to school with us.” 

 

“Is his name Sky?” 

 

“Uh, yeah. How did you know-" 

 

“He messaged me too. Sent a friend request with some message about being friends and how I was inspiring or something like that.” Bjorn replied, sounding unimpressed.

 

“Huh. Yeah I guess it makes sense that he would message both of us. Did you reply to him?” 

 

“No.” 

 

“Why not?” 

 

“Because.” Bjorn hesitated for a moment before continuing.

 

“I don’t know. He seems kind of weird to me. He talked to me like I was his biggest hero or something. I don’t want to be friends with that kind of person. And I didn’t think you’d be cool with me replying to him either. I mean with him being gay too and all.” 

 

I felt a sharp emotional pain sucker punch me right in the stomach. 

 

“You’re allowed to message someone even if they're gay. I mean… I messaged him back.”

 

Bjorn shifted awkwardly in his bed and looked blankly over at his cup of coffee. 

 

“Oh yeah? What’d you guys talk about?” He uttered quietly. 

 

“Same thing I guess. He told me that we helped him get the courage to come out to his friends. He also mentioned wanting to be our friend, then he asked if I wanted to hangout with him.” 

 

“And you said?” 

 

“I told him I’ll try whenever I have the time. But right now all my time is dedicated to my boyfr-" 

 

“Don’t try to switch it up like that.” Bjorn spat back. 

 

“What? It's true!” 

 

The tension brewing between us eased up a little bit when he leaned back against his headboard and cracked a smile. 

 

“So if you and Sky do hangout, what were you planning on doing huh?” 

 

Judging by his devious smirk and curious gaze, this question was a trap. But still, I took the bait. 

 

“Well I don’t know. I just figured, maybe-" I stammered.

 

“So if you didn’t plan on doing anything, you're just going to meet him? Are you that excited to make a new friend? Or is it because he's cute?” 

 

Bjorn smirked again, feeling as if he had cornered his prey. However, he gave me the out I needed to flip the accusation his way. 

 

“So you think he’s cute? Hmm… cuter than me?” I exaggerated with a strategic placement of my hand on my hip and a dramatic eyebrow raise. 

 

His eyes grew wide and his mouth slightly agape. 

 

“What!? I didn’t… of course not!” he shouted. 

 

“And I don’t think he’s cuter than you either so why are you jealous of me trying to make a new friend?” 

 

I got up from my spot at the end of the bed and crawled into the spot next to him. He hesitantly accepted me out of instinct and rested arm over my shoulder. 

 

“Stop worrying so much. You know I wouldn’t ever do something to hurt you. You should trust me.” 

 

Bjorn didn’t respond immediately. He scratched at the course gauze that wrapped around his cast while his other gently rubbed my arm. 

 

“I trust you. I’m not really worried about that its just… well, I’m going to be bored without you. I’ll be laying in this bed for awhile.” 

 

“That’s why I’m here now! And I’ll be here, by your side until you don’t need me here. And even then! I’ll still be here! Annoying you until you fall asleep just to get away from me.” 

 

“You’re good at that.” He replied snarkily. 

 

“Oh shut up dork.” I giggled as I shoved him gently. 

 

I kept my hands pressed against his chest, laughing as I playfully switched between pushing him and tickling his sides. He couldn’t position himself to fight back in his current state, so in an effort to get me to stop, he placed one hand behind my head as he pulled my face towards his. He parted my lips with his tongue and aggressively ran his fingers through my hair. I gave up trying to fight him. I let his strong hand hold me in place while his tongue danced with mine. His hand then moved from my nape down to my lower back and then the back of my thigh. He pulled my leg over his, inviting me to sit on his lap facing him. I did so, climbing into his lap without breaking the contact with his lips. 

 

Finally I took a breather and pulled away from him. He resisted and leaned in, pushing his lips forward and trying to sneak in a few more pecks. 

 

“Alright, alright. I told your dad I’d let you rest. Stop getting all worked up.” 

 

“I’m not worked up, I’m totally relaxed.” 

 

I felt a poke underneath me coming from Bjorn's lap. I raised an eyebrow and gave him a smirk. 

 

“Yeah right dork. I can feel how relaxed you are through the blanket.” 

 

Bjorn didn’t hold any shame or try to hide it at all. He only wrapped his arms around me and tried to pull me closer. 

 

“This is how I relax!” he shouted

 

He then tensed up suddenly and let out a small cry of pain. The arm that remained in a sling slowly retreated back to his side and his other hand moved to rub the sore joint. 

 

“You see what happens?” I climbed out of his lap and moved to his side. “No more of that, you need to lay back and relax.” 

 

I coerced Bjorn into resting with a little bit of persuasion, and a little bit of “handiwork" as my fingers dipped beneath his waistband. Soon I was able to get him to lay down and fall asleep. I wasn’t very tired, so I watched him sleep for a little while. His chest raised and fell harmoniously with the hum of his ceiling fan. His hair was disheveled, long locks of blonde hair were strewn about his pillow. I told him not to cut it, I like playing with his hair as it gets longer. He obviously hadn’t taken a shower since the accident. His hair was a shade darker and softer because the oils had not been washed away. And he didn’t smell like his typical scent of body wash or cologne. He gave off a scent of must and sweat. But it hadn’t grown to be so off-putting that I couldn’t stand it. Now that I’m fighting the urge to cuddle him, the smell is more prominent and not as pleasing. But before, when I could feel his erection through the sheets and my hand grasped his boyhood in an effort to put him to sleep, I wasn’t simply doing it just so he could rest. The smell excited me at first. It called for me to touch him. Now that those feelings have faded, it’s hard to understand why, but his scent definitely has a strange effect on me. 

 

I kissed the spot on his forehead where his hair parted and left his side hesitantly. I shouldn’t stay any longer, I’ll be tempted to sleep the day away with Bjorn. At least I got to see him for a bit. But before I go, 

 

I reached into my pocket and grabbed a fistful of colored sharpies. Like a surgeon operating on his patient, I carefully and meticulously ran the sharpie tips over the coarse gauze. I switched colors with each letter until I reached the end of my masterpiece. I signed the canvas with my initials and a smiley face, so that Bjorn would be able to wake up to a smile. Satisfied with my artwork, I clicked the cap shut over my sharpie pen and left the room ever-so-quietly. When Bjorn wakes up, he'll be greeted with a small axe wielding Viking, complimented by lightning bolts and a magnificent marker beard. Beside it, written in the various colors of the rainbow, the words “My Warrior" rest prominently on his cast. 

 

I hope he likes it. 

 

I crept out the front door of his house, locking the door handle from the inside on my way out. Once I was greeted by the afternoon Californian sunlight, I took a moment to raise my arms above head and stretch out my entire body; letting the sun's rays warm my bones as I did so. There’s still plenty of daylight left and I don’t have plans for the rest of it. I strolled out to the sidewalk and opted to not cross the street to my house. Instead, I’m going to walk towards the coast and see if there’s a shop or cafe I can visit for the time being. 

 

Now would be a good time to text Sky and see if he wants to hangout. I’m craving a good milkshake and fries combo but I usually don’t go to restaurants alone. Maybe Sky and I can bond over some junk food in town. 

 

I sent the boy another message on Facebook with my proposal. He responded by saying he'd be up for it, but it would be about an hour before his mom could drop him off near the coast where I was heading. Fair enough, I’m sure I’ll be able to entertain myself for that long. 

 

Eventually, I came across a small shop with a discreet sign tucked into the corner of the window. It read “Coffee + antiques" on its distressed and dusty wooden surface. Through the clouded glass I could see a horde of knick-knacks and wooden sculptures. Beyond that, a few couches and a bar hid behind some shelves. The sign does say coffee, I got to give it a try. 

 

This shop was the definition of discreet. No signs or advertisements viewable from the street, no inviting decor or entrance that draws you in, and amongst the surf shops and tourist attractions on this strip this place was so subtle that it almost seemed abandoned. 

 

Still, I ventured inside by pushing the faded wooden door open, and was welcomed by the sudden chime of a bell. Peeking past the shelves, which are populated by all sorts of antiques, dolls and trinkets, a short and feeble older man greeted me with a warm smile. He must have been in his seventies by now, and as far as I could see, only the two of us were present in the shop. 

 

“Ello there young man. Seems you’ve stumbled into my humble shop. How can I assist you.” The creaky British accent called to me from behind the cherry wood counter top. The old man was hunched over, missing a few teeth and barely let his eyelids creep open. But his smile and voice were both warm and foreign to me. Unlike the store's entrance, the shopkeeper and his collection were both inviting.

 

“Well, I saw your sign and… you sell coffee here?” 

 

“Mmm, I do. Coffee, Tea, odds and ends. You fancy a cup? Nothing fancy ere' hot coffee only. Latte's too if that’s your sorta deal. Milk and sugar to soften er’ up if you wish.” 

 

“Uh yeah. I mean yes sir. Coffee, black.” I responded meekly as my hands brushed the dust off of an antique jewelry box. It was heavy from the looks of it, built from some kind of darker wood with a glass window on the lid that looked down into the box. It was pretty, I’ll have to come back to that later. 

 

The old man shuffled slowly behind the counter and moved to an ancient looking coffee grinder. It was a hand grinder that fed into a wooden box with a small drawer in the front. Everything in this shop, including the man making my coffee, was either ancient or built to look like it. There was a sofa on a wall beside the counter with a coffee table and some leather chairs in front of it. 

 

I took a seat on the worn leather couch and let my eyes scan over the room. A few things caught my eye and forced me to get up and stroll around the store. A collection of bronze metal trinkets, iron keys, and wooden boxes. Before I found myself completely lost in the yesterday's treasures, the old man shouted to let me know that the coffee was ready. 

 

It was served in a ceramic teacup on a dish. Around the cup was a trail of chocolate coffee beans, a personal touch that the old man was very proud of. 

 

“The name’s George lad. Anything over there catch your eye?” 

 

“Oh yes sir.” I looked over at the wooden jewelry box after picking up the cup and accompanying dish. 

 

“That jewelry box. I like it. How much does it cost? I don’t see price tags anywhere.” 

 

“That’s cuz I have two prices lad. A price for those who want for themselves, and a price for those who want for others. If you left with that box, what use would it have to you?” 

 

I thought over the old man's question for a moment. The answer came quickly. 

 

“A friend of mine. He just came home from the hospital. I don’t know what he'd use it for, but I think he'd like it.” 

 

“Well then I think your friend will be pleasantly surprised when you take it home wit ya.” 

 

“I think so, but you still haven't told me how much it is.” 

 

“I guess I didn’t. There’s no price on friendship lad. Pay me for the beverage when you leave and you can ‘ave the box. A gift from me, to you, to your friend. And when you give it to em' tell him old Georgie wishes him well.” George gave me another toothy grin before preceding with cleaning the countertop. 

 

I thanked him profusely but the old man just waved me off and told me to drink my coffee. I obliged of course, and was rewarded for it. The coffee was good. Better than good, it was delightful to sip. Light, smooth and well balanced between bitterness and acidity. The little acidity it had was complimented by notes of citrus. I didn’t ask the old man for the blend, but it’s the epitome of a summer brew. 

 

I sipped and waited for Sky to update me on his ride. Finally, he texted me back to let me know he was on the way. I told him it’d be difficult to find me, so look for a small brick store that looks closed. He seemed confused at first with his response, and reading it back I realized how silly and equally shady that sounded, but I didn’t feel like leaving just yet. I enjoyed this place and George. 

 

We were both quiet in the store, and none of the sounds from the street penetrated these walls. The entire room was encompassed by the stillness and quiet. Even the objects of the past were trapped in a state of purgatory, perched upon dusty shelves and clinging to their own existence and relevance. You were transported to a place where time screeches to a halt. I wouldn’t say this place is heaven on earth but it still draws parallels to an afterlife. You wait, but time doesn't pass. Instead you rest, mind, body, and soul, until you’re ready to resume life and walk back out those doors. The only modern convenience this place has is the phone in my hand, which now more than ever, feels guiltily irrelevant. 

 

Time passed, but I didn’t feel it. I couldn’t tell the difference from a minute or an hour when I fixed my attention on the shop's many treasures. Only the familiar chime of a bell woke me from my daze. Around the corner of shelves a few creaking floorboards welcomed a third guest to the shop. I saw Sky hesitantly peak his head around to find me sinking into the leather sofa with an empty coffee stained cup in my lap. 

 

Once I spotted him I jolted back into reality. We exchanged the normal awkward greetings when meeting a stranger. I offered to buy him a coffee or tea, he declined and chose a seat in the leather chair opposite of me. 

 

He was about my height, if not a hair shorter. His long golden locks were pulled back and held in place by his snapback. He wore a skater shirt and torn jeans. Matched with the scrapes on his elbows, I’d say he’s definitely a skater. He had this shy smile that stood out to me. I don’t think he realized he was doing it, he was just subconsciously bubbly and excited to meet me. 

 

“So uh… what do you want to do today?” he asked while his hands fidgeted with each other. 

 

“I figured we could grab something to eat, maybe walk around the shops. Is that cool with you?” 

 

His eyes darted between me and the floor constantly.

 

“Yeah! I mean whatever is cool with you is cool with me too.” 

 

“Cool. Well, if you’re ready to head out then lets go.” 

 

We exchanged nods and prepared to leave. It suddenly hit me that I hadn’t paid yet. 

 

“Hey, uh mister George. What do I owe you for the coffee?” 

 

The old man, who’s eyes were shut and his head nodding off, slowly blinked himself back to consciousness, grunted, coughed, then looked back at me.

 

“Huh? Oh, well just pay me next time you see me. Don’t worry about it today lad. And don’t forget the jewelry box boy. Tell yer friend to get better too, tell em’ old Georgie said so.” 

 

“Yes sir! Thank you sir I’ll be back soon!” I tucked the jewelry box under my arm and continued out the door. 

 

“He seems like a nice guy. That’s an interesting store, you go there often?” Sky asked as we walked down the coastal sidewalk. 

 

“That was my first time actually. But I’m sure I’ll be back, he is pretty nice.”

 

“He said tell your friend to get better. Is someone sick?” 

 

“Huh? Oh, no. Well… its Bjorn.” 

 

“Bjorn is sick?” 

 

“No, he's not sick. He had an accident. An accident while surfing and… he broke some bones. He’s healing up at home and I was going to bring this box to him, I like it.” 

 

I still didn’t want anyone to know what led to Bjorn being hurt. It doesn’t help to lie, but a surfing accident sounds believable. 

 

“Aw man that sucks. I hope he gets better soon too. But it’s really cool that you got him a gift. You’re uh… well you’re a really nice boyfriend.” 

 

We both blushed deeply, but I did my best to shrug it off. 

 

“Well I’d do the same for any one of my friends.” 

 

We came across the same diner where me and Bjorn went on our first date. I didn't think too much about it, I just thought it'd be a nice place for milkshakes and fries. 

 

I took Sky inside, found a booth, and slid my way in with the jewelry box beside me and Sky across from me. I chose not to sit at the same table me and Bjorn sat at, it'd be too weird. 

 

“So Sky, have you come out to anyone besides your parents?”

 

“No, not yet. I want to. It's just scary. I don't know how to bring it up without sounding so dramatic or attention hungry. I just know that if I don't come out, it'll be hard to find someone like you.”

 

“Someone… like me?” 

 

Sky looked straight to the table in front of him and blushed the deepest color of red I've ever seen. 

 

“Well not you, I mean someone my age, who's gay. It would be nice to have something like you and Bjorn have.” his fingers were pulling and rubbing hard against each other as he tried to find the right words. 

 

“Ah I see. Well you will, I'm sure of it. You seem nice and you're cute, I don't think it'll take long.” 

 

His face lit up a bit as his eyes rose to mine.

 

“You think I'm cute? I always thought I looked too… girly.” 

 

“I used to think the same way. But you'd be surprised. I think you're cute. Bjorn thinks I'm cute. I know someone you'll meet will think the same. Be patient and be confident, someone will sweep you off your feet I'm sure of it.” 

 

The boy just smiled as our waitress came to take our orders. His infectious grin made the waitress and me smile as well. We ordered our food. I had the burger, fries, and chocolate banana milkshake combo. Sky went with chicken tenders, fries, and a plain chocolate shake. 

 

We talked about school for a little bit, but as expected the conversation quickly turned to boys. Sky was elated to be able to divulge all of his crushes to someone else for the first time. With no fear of judgement he just let it all out onto the table until finally he asked the question.

 

“What's it like… being with a guy.” 

 

I popped a few fries into my mouth and washed it down with my shake. 

 

“What do you mean?” I said following a large gulp.

 

“You know, kissing and stuff. Have you guys done it yet?” 

 

I chuckled at his innocence and my sudden lack thereof.

 

“Well kissing is fun. It seems gross at first, but it's fun. Actually that describes all of it. Everything seems weird or gross before you do it, and then you do it, and you can't wait to do it again.” 

 

“Ah I see. You didn't answer my question though he said with another blush.” 

 

It was my turn to be embarrassed, but I also felt a sense of pride and maturity in my sexual experiences. 

 

“Yes, yes we have.” 

 

We both giggled like school girls at the mention. 

 

Sky grew quiet and then looked around the room nervously. He spoke in a hushed voice when he posed his next question. 

 

“Do you… which one…”

 

“I'm the bottom.” I said with increasing pride and a wide grin. 

 

There was another round of childish giggling that spread around the table. 

 

He fielded a few more questions, each one more personal than the last. I did my best to explain to him what I've learned about sex so far. I did have to cut him off when he asked how big Bjorn was though. I feel as if the conversation was slipping off track at that point. 

 

We finished our food, tipped our waitress, and with Sky in tow, we headed out on our next adventure. It turned out to be a rather short one, the sun was starting to set already and I had to head home, as did he. But as we were waiting for his ride to pick him up, we took a moment to watch the waves from our vantage point near the beach. He leaned against the metal railing and stared off into the orange and pink hues that painted the sky. I joined him, leaning against the railing as well and taking it all in. 

 

“Thanks for hanging out with me today Keaton. I had a lot of fun. Next time, if Bjorn is better, we can all hang out together.” 

 

“I had fun too. And sure, I'll let Bjorn know. I'm sure he'll want to hang out too.”

 

After a few more passing moments, Sky took a deep breath and then spoke in a partially broken tone.

 

“Thanks for what you said back there. You know, about me finding someone. And for calling me cute, it helps.” 

 

“Aw don't worry about it. I meant what I said too. You just have to be confident and it will come.” 

 

“Yeah…” Sky said as his voice trailed off. He looked away, which caused me to turn my attention to him. At first, because of his tone, I thought he might have been crying. But then he turned his head back to mine, took another deep breath, and leaned in quickly.

 

He pushed his lips forward, met mine, and kissed me before I had a chance to react. When his ride pulled up simultaneously, he pulled away, smiled, and ran over to his mom's car. Without so much as a word being spoken. 

 

He left me stunned, with the taste of his lips still lingering on mine. I grew hot, with anger and embarrassment. Those flames were only fanned when my phone began to vibrate. Bjorn's name flashed across the screen with the option to accept or decline the call. My hand was shaking, but my thumb meagerly touched the lime colored call button and slid across it. I raised the phone to my ear, swallowed hard and closed my eyes.

 

“Hey babe… what's up?”