Page 25 of Winter Break

The door opened and closed, echoing in the darkened shop as Dalton bolted down the boardwalk. The jingling of the bell sounded haunting as it faded to nothing. I strained to look down the boardwalk, but he was already gone. My hand covered my mouth, feeling him there, tasting him there as I locked the door and turned the sign to closed.

When Anita and I showed up at the Garners’ home on Christmas Day, Dalton was already gone.

“He insisted on playing his new video game with Austin. Those two boys really are joined at the hip,” his mother said.

Brett walked past me, talking and taking a bite of his appetizer at the same time. Mouth full, he mumbled, “At least she’s not calling them brothers anymore.” He laughed at his own joke as he passed us, wrapped his arm around Mallory, and fed her the other half of his snack.

Chapter Seven

Dalton at Nineteen

I’d chosen New Hampshire over Miami, though I was already looking into programs and internships that would take me as far away from New Jersey as I could get.

It had just seemed more practical to stay on the East Coast for my undergrad even though part of me had wanted to run away, run as far away as I could after that one night. One stupid, embarrassing night in the back room of the toy store with Turner. Hopefully, New Hampshire was far enough.

I’d run straight to Austin’s that night and cried on his shoulder. He’d reminded me again about our age difference, insisting that it would be “super weird” for me to date any older guy but especially one who was best friends with my brother.

“You can’t look at it like he was rejecting you, Dalt. He was rejecting Brett’s baby brother. You can’t take it personally.”

I nodded my stuffy head and wiped my eyes.

He joked that when we’d said we should find prom dates that winter break night, he hadn’t meant Turner, and one late spring day a few months later, I flopped on his bed and admitted failure.

“I am demi, Aus. I can’t just go out and find a guy. I’m not wired that way. I don’t know how to do it!”

“What if …” Austin hovered over me.

“What if what?”

He kissed me then, and it didn’t feel wrong. Austin was my best friend. He was comfortable, he was safe. I could trust him.

So less than a month later, we were standing in front of the mirror in my room.

“Damn, we clean up good, Dalt.” Some small part of me wished that we might just happen upon Turner, so that he could see me, all dressed up. Because we did look pretty slick in our fancy clothes.

“Yeah, we do, Aus.” Our parents were waiting for us downstairs, all four of them making a big deal about how they knew we would end up together. I mean, we were the only two out guys in our whole school, so that math wasn’t super difficult.

Talking to my reflection in the mirror, Austin said, “You ready to do this?”

“Let’s fucking go,” I responded.

“So romantic.” I followed him down the stairs, but we both paused when I heard my father say, “She’s getting older, Marty. And does anyone think that kid can manage by himself when …”

“Chris!” my mother warned.

“When she decides to retire! That’s all I meant. That kid came out of nowhere, and what, he’s her heir now? I’ll convince them to sell, Marty. You’ll see. And it will be the right thing for the both of them. Neither of them needs to be tied down to that old building, and a young man like him doesn’t need to be tied down to some stuffy family resort town.”

“I don’t know, Chris. Turner seems to like it here. He’s been attending the chamber meetings, which I’ve noticed you’re not sending anyone to anymore, by the way. We’ve got big plans for boosting offseason business. He’s got good ideas and seems really invested.”

“Hmm.” My dad dismissed his friend with, “We’ll see, Marty.”

“Jesus, my dad really has a one-track mind,” I whispered in Austin’s ear.

Austin took my hand and said, “Come on. I know how to put a stop to this discussion.”

We descended the stairs to “oohs” and “ahhs” and the flash of cell phone cameras. My mother may have had a tear in her eye.

Austin and I spent exactly one week after that fooling around. We tried everything and laughed a lot while we were doing it. Then more often than not, we’d get dressed and turn on a video game. At the end of that week, I rolled off of Austin, my head by his feet, and we agreed that sixty-nining was a lot of fucking work.