Page 49 of Winter Break

Somehow, seemingly out of nowhere, on my last day of winter break, we were both angry.

I hadn’t wanted to leave him like that, of course I hadn’t. In fact, his outburst made me understand completely that I didn’t want to leave him at all. I may not have formulated the words, or a plan, but what I wanted was to leave for college for my second semester of junior year as Turner Misher’s boyfriend. Would there be issues? Sure. Was one of those issues named Brett? Possibly, maybe. But Brett would want to see his friend happy. He’d want to see me happy. He might be weirded out at first, but I was sure he would get over it.

But Brett was my brother, my family. And Turner had no one except Anita, who was leaving him. Maybe he was afraid Brett would abandon him too? I could see how hard it was for Turner, what he felt like he might be losing.

But I could also see it so clearly: the two of us together, like some small, hopeful, adolescent part of me had always wished for. He wouldn’t be losing anything, God damn it, we’d be gaining each other!

I opened my mouth to tell him all of that.

“You should go,” he said softly. No more shouting. No more anger.

No more passion.

“That’s what you want?” I tried to hold my voice steady, but it cracked despite my every effort.

He nodded, and I went back to the bedroom to get dressed, returning to the living room and standing behind him in my winter coat, a kit cap on my head, my hands shoved in my pockets to keep from reaching out to him. He stood looking out the living room window, his back to me.

“Breakwater is everything I never knew I wanted. You need to find what you want out of life, Dalton. You need to find your home.”

“This is my home, Turner.” I stared at his back as he stared at the ocean, but he never turned around. The sound outside the window, which had always seemed peaceful and constant, became an enraged cacophony, pushing me away instead of drawing me toward it.

Honoring the mighty power of the ocean, eventually, I left.

Once again, we managed not to see each other for a whole fucking year. At least for part of the prior year, we’d texted, joking and sharing and staying connected. After winter break, I had to live off occasional mentions from Brett or Mallory or Austin.

Brett started a text chain right around when I returned from Argentina that summer, for the guys in his wedding party, but Turner rarely responded to the group. Brett and Mallory planned to get married the following summer, so none of the plans were that urgent, but Brett was excited and keen for Turner and me to get to know Mallory’s cousin, his fraternity brothers, and his friends from work, so we could plan a bachelor party.

I had tried to reach out to Turner directly, sitting in the airport during my layover in Atlanta, waiting for my flight back to New Jersey in August. I’d let him know I was excited to see the new store, which had opened in time for the summer season. My heart pounded in my chest while I typed. There was no response by the time I boarded and none a few hours later when I’d landed. It was a short visit to Breakwater, and then I was back at school again, working hard to ignore the disappointment I felt. Having not heard from him before I left, I avoided the boardwalk completely during the short time I was home over the summer.

I’d not even gone to see the new store.

When Thanksgiving rolled around, I was determined to talk to Turner. Brett and Mallory had joined my parents on our yearly Thanksgiving trip, but I used a big research project for school (not untrue) as an excuse to skip the yearly tradition. I was home alone in Breakwater, and I knew how I wanted to spend my stolen week.

I stormed into the toy store on my first day back to find Casey in charge.

“You just missed him, Dalton. Turner is meeting Anita and Wyatt in New York for the holiday. Apparently, seeing the Thanksgiving Day Parade is on Miss Anita’s bucket list. They’re staying at a hotel where you can see the ballons right out the window. How much do you think that costs? Ooh, I bet your dad would know!”

Casey refused my offer to help over Thanksgiving week and assured me that Turner would be home by the time I got back for winter break.

“We can probably use you over Christmas! I’ll let Turner know you stopped by.”

Austin and I spent a lot of time together that Thanksgiving week, marveling over the fact that we were about to graduate from college. Austin was bound for medical school and was talking seriously about staying in Hampstead Valley to complete his studies.

Between college and all my travels, Austin and I had hardly spent any time together since turning twenty-one. So the evening before Thanksgiving, we found ourselves sitting at the bar at the Three B’s, looking up drinks with outrageous names and demanding Preston make them for us. We were enjoying Sex on the Beach when Austin told me his plan.

“I love the cold weather, Dalt. I love the mountains. I can really see myself maybe with a pediatrician's practice up there. You know, the college employs lots of people. Between that and the students, there are lots of young families in the area. I could make a good living in my own practice, maybe teach a course or two at the school. I don’t know. I mean, I’m pretty sure I want to be a pediatrician, and I do know I'm gonna stay at HU.

“What about you, man? Are you leaving me to spend all your time with sexy fisherman in Alaska or Argentina or some other place that starts with an A?”

“I thought it was burly fishermen!”

“Burly, sexy, it's all the same, right?”

“Whatever, man. I don't know,” I said. “I love what I learned on those trips, but they're doing some really interesting things off the coast here as well. At Tidewater University. I’d be close to home, close to family. Close to …”

“But do we have burly fishermen, dude?” Austin said, purposely interrupting my thought.

“I mean, we live at the beach, so …”