Bomb(pop)

Tales from the Miracle Season 1.6

The sun was still there in the dark behind his eyelids, pressing in with reddish warmth as Evan stretched his leg above his shoulders and brought it back down ever so slowly.  It had been Mason’s idea to come to Franklin Beach today, and it was impossible for Evan to refuse the man anything.  He was fairly sure that Mason was well aware of that fact and used it to his advantage whenever possible.  So Evan found himself trying to stretch and practice basic poses on hot shifting sand as he watched Mason’s wide shoulders erupt from the water in the distance, only to disappear beneath the waves after heaving in a breath.  

Next to him, sitting under an oversized beach umbrella, Max laid reading some book and Sam lounged sleepily next to a bright yellow ceramic dog bowl that had his name painted in blue on its side.  Occasionally, Max reached out and scratched Sam’s butterscotch and grey mottled head as the dog humphed and continued watching the horizon vanish across the lake with lidded eyes.  Max and Sam had met them in the parking lot, having already jogged the more wooded trails the part offered before the heat of the day had reached its peak.  Evan considered Max a friend, though one of few words, and Sam seemed to like him well enough to allow the occasional pet—a privilege allowed to few.

Mason stood briefly in a shallow part of the lake, his short beard and long hair almost the color of the dog’s now that it was wet. Evan bit back yet another sigh, adding to the innumerable he’d tried to suppress as the afternoon had droned on.  He could’ve been back at Caffe Olive with a proper bar and an actual floor to practice on, but instead he was “getting some sun” and “experiencing the human condition”.  He could do without either, honestly.  Between school, his job, and dance classes he had nothing resembling this free time the bookseller went on and on about.  

Evan smirked as he imagined some of the more stuffy members of the San Keros University faculty if they could see their cordial antiquarian friend as Evan saw him now.  The view was worth it, Evan thought, as he stretched towards the umbrella and used its tip as a handhold.  Even the sand-burned feet.  Despite his contortions, his eyes never left Mason’s form in the water.  When the man surfaced once again and began his climb out of the light surf of Lake Corbin, Evan accidentally forgot to breathe.

To be fair, even the straightest of his friends would acknowledge that Mason’s body was truly something to behold.  Sculpted by a greek god, if the gods preferred their statues exceptional broad shouldered with obvious muscles shifting just under the skin literally everywhere.  His navy board shorts were more trunk length, their color dyed black by the water of the lake, suctioning tightly against thighs that were far too much for Evan to process.  Rivulets poured from the slicked back overabundance of Mason’s hair down through the small forest on his chest and then on to his stomach before slipping into the waistband that hung delicately just below his hips.  He waved as he approached his beach bound friends, oblivious.

“Man, the water’s starting to get a bit choppy!”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Evan purred, repulsed by his own inability to get his hormones under control.  He was fine with his attraction to Mason, even fine with Mason knowing all about his ridiculous crush, but being obvious was just a bridge too far.  From the snort that came from under the umbrella, someone agreed with him.  He wasn’t sure it was worse if it was the dog.

“I saw you doing your interpretive dance as a reed.  You bend well.” Mason paused, not realizing until the words were out of his mouth just how that could have been taken.  Evan looked terrified.  Mason shrugged.  What was done, was done.  “I thought the whole point of coming out here was to actually get in the water!” He continued.

“I swam about 3 miles when I got here, man,” Max’s shaved head rejoined from underneath the shaded canopy.  “Even Sam got a chance to swim for a bit, though he thought the water was a tad cold.”  

Sam barked happily in agreement, while Max rolled his eyes behind his wire-rimmed shades.  “Yeah well, furball, you’re a big boy.  You were ok.  A little cool water isn’t going to kill you.  For that matter, that water bowl has been sitting a bit too long.  Gonna go grab  a bottled water for Mr. Fancy here, either of you want something?”

“Bombpop,” Evan asked, “if you’re sure.”

“I’m good, dude.  And you know I wasn’t talking to you.  I’ll be back.” Max stood up and motioned to Sam, who was doing his best to ignore the leash in his hand.  “C’mon, fella.  Let’s go for a walk.  Quicker we get there, quicker we get back off the hot sand.  Though maybe not too quick…”

That was one of the least chill exits of all time, Evan sighed as he shook his head.  Silence descended as the man and his dog got absorbed into the crowd between them and the snack hut further down the beach.

“I wasn’t kidding about the stretching, Evan.  In fact, I meant to mention something earlier before we headed out.”

Evan’s look of terror melted into a soft hope, and it was then that Mason realized he was leading the boy completely astray.

“Two things, really, and they sort of cancel each other out so you can take what you want from it all.  I know, the kids at Hillcrest are rotten, but I’m worried that you’re missing out on stuff, dude.  I know Max and I are awesome, but I’m worried we’re stultifying you.  You need more than classes and work, bro.”

“There is nothing about them that I miss.”  Evan’s tone was far icier than the lake water he’d chosen to forsake.  Had Mason seriously just called him “bro”? What the hell was going on here?

“Evan, listen to me.  Seriously, listen.  I’m not your guidance counselor, or your parents, or even Susan,” Mason rolled his eyes at the last name.  “It’s me, your friend, and I’m telling you that you need to find some friends a bit closer to your own age, that are going through the same things you are.  They can’t all be monsters.  What about Molly? Jacob?”

“Molly’s fine,” Evan admitted, “She’s new, but she’s fine.  Sometimes talking to her is like talking to a pillow, though.”

“A…pillow?”

“Yeah.  You can talk, you can scream, and the pillow just absorbs it all but it never gives anything back.  Molly takes being introverted to some next level crap.”  Evan was trying hard to not feel wounded but Mason wasn’t making this easy.

“And Jacob?”  

“An ally against the idiots, only because he’s slightly less idiotic.” Evan rolled his shoulders more than he shrugged.  “We literally have nothing in common, except that we’re both the perennial targets of the Hillcrest Creepazoids.

“What about Seth?”

“Seth is vile,” Evan spat.  “He is literally incapable of human speech.”

“That’s a tad harsh.”

“No, it’s accurate,” Evan quipped.  “Besides, he drools.”

“Drools?”

“Yes, Mason,” Evan was unable to hide his exasperation.  “The boy drools like a Neanderthal.”  

“I’m not sure Neanderthals drooled,” Mason mused.

“Well, this one does. At least when he thinks you aren’t looking.”  It bothered him a bit, Evan admitted, that Seth somehow managed to avoid being completely obvious in scoping out their shared prey.  Granted, the boy was an idiot the minute his stupid face showed up into the bookshop, but he managed to hide his feelings behind the sheer level of goofiness he fronted.  

Mason squeezed lake water out of his hair using an extra towel he removed from his bag,  sliding on a pair of sunglasses over the limes that were his eyes.  Boys, he groaned inwardly.  When did he start putting Seth in the same category as Evan?  They were both younger, but Seth was only a few years so, and despite his social awkwardness he was a fairly mature kid.  Mason winced.  There it was again.  

 “You are blind, Evan.”

Undeterred, Evan continued, “I expect he’ll ask you to run with him sooner rather than later.  Surely, shared visits to the gym can’t be far behind.”

Evan raised as far on his left foot’s toes as the sand allowed and stretched his right leg to the sky, letting his torso and arms fall perpendicular to the ground, allowing the movement to disengage in a conversation he no longer wished to have.

While Mason let Evan’s bile settle, he threw on the t-shirt he’d grabbed off the floor of his bedroom this morning, uncaring that it was inside out as he stretched it around his form.  His shorts still dripped the cool water of the lake upon his toes.

“He is coming around more often,” Mason allowed.  That was a fact not in dispute.  Since the March day Seth had returned his umbrella and a half-eaten tuna sandwich, Seth had managed to stop by several times a week, and had made himself right at home in an effortless way that Mason found easy to overlook.  It wasn’t unusual for Mason or Evan to turn a corner and find Seth there on some floor pillow or leaning against one of the few walls without a bookcase, working on homework.  He assumed it was homework.  

“He seems to come most often on Thursday afternoons.”  

“I hadn’t noticed,” Evan clipped his words as he switched legs and allowed his torso to flex backwards, arcing behind his groin even as his leg stretched to the sky.  The sand made these challenging, he begrudgingly admitted.  The tiny muscles and bones in his feet and ankles were definitely getting their workout.  Even more than in the studio, damn Mason to hell.  

“Oh yes,” Mason prattled on.  “Thursdays, never before 2, and never after 6 or 7.

“How nice that you’ve memorized his schedule.  Are you passing notes in class?” Evan could hear the acid in his tone.

“I wonder why?” Mason asked overly dreamily, ignoring Evan’s irritation.

“Do I have to spell it out for you? He’s practically throwing—“

“Let me rephrase,” Mason took a breath.  “I wonder what else happens to occur around that same time.  Every Thursday.”  

“Nothing! That’s my point. He’s always just there lurking, stuttering out idiot responses whenever either you or I bother to include him in our typically stimulating conversations.”

“Every Thursday,” Max repeated, “between 2 and 6.”

“And he’s worthless the entire time he’s there!” Evan had about enough of whatever this conversation was supposed to be.  This had been, he begrudgingly admitted, a decent day until Mason had to bring up the idiot.  Was just one day for the two of them too much to ask for? “Even when he tries to be quiet, its like even his breath  just fills up the place and I just want to scratch at him until it stops.”

“He bought two books on ballet and another on modern dance, Tuesday.”

“Ooooh, so he double dipped this week!”  Evan twirled his fingers as he rolled his wrists into a position overhead.

Mason didn’t know what to say to the increasingly twisted shape that was Evan.  The ___ t-shirt and short trunks only accentuated the languid brown tenths of the boy’s limbs as they stretched and twisted in ways Mason’s bulk never could.  He cringed just imagining completing even half the exercises his friend did with ease.  The standing split thing was just…ow.  No thanks. 

“You working Open Mic again this week?”Mason sighed, acknowledging his detour into Seth-town had completely undone their conversation.  

Evan brought his leg back down, centering his torso until he was upright and he flexed his toes as he worked them out of the sand.  

“I’ve worked every single Open Mic for like the last three months!” Evan grumbled.  He wasn’t this negative person, and he hated showing Mason this uglier side of himself, but everything about Seth just set him on edge.  “You’d think just one of the other servers would maybe take a turn.”

“I was thinking of maybe stopping by, closing the shop up early.”

“Why?” Evan demanded, his eyes squinted as he looked for the angle.  He could tell Mason was up to something.  He never closed the shop early.

“Eh,” Mason shrugged.  “I’m taking some of my own advice.  I’ve been too much of a hermit lately.  Gotta get out there and interact with some of those pesky humans.”

“It’s not always pretty,” Evan offered.  But man, Mason’s shoulders were.  How does a simple shrug become adorable?

“These sort of things never are.  It starts at what, around 7?”

“Yep, though it doesn’t really pick up until 8 or 9 when the wine bar downstairs closes up shop.”

Evan’s next set of stretches sparked Mason’s memory.  “Oh! The other thing!”

“What other thing?” 

“The other thing I wanted to tell you.”

“Great.”

“Well, you might think so.  I ran into Susan at the Warren Committee meeting the other night, and she mentioned she was considering adding one or two more yoga classesat the shop, but Kathy can’t take any more on right now.  So I just mentioned that since you spend almost as much time there as with me, maybe she ought to put you to work.”

“You did not.”

“It was casual.  I just mentioned how committed you were, I think I used the word dedicated or some such thing.  In any event, she wants to talk to you about it.  And I figured it wouldn’t really add to your workload, and you’d make a few extra bucks which you could use to get those new pointe shoes you were slavering over…”

Decorum be damned, Evan tackle-hugged Mason onto the sand as he let out a giant laugh.

“Are you seriously not kidding me now!”

“I am seriously not kidding you.  Which is to say, please don’t make me say that phrase again.  I also figured it wouldn’t look awful on your resume when you start looking at schools.  I also thought it might expose you to some new people.”

“Now wait a second,” Evan said as he stood up and dusted off the clinging sand.  

“Susan tends to get a younger crowd for the yoga classes, probably because the idiots at the university never schedule enough of them.  So I’m sure they’re will be a few that won’t be horrible.  Some of them you might even tolerate.”

“I suppose,” Evan said as he tried unsuccessfully to frown.  Between the news and the gratitude of what had just transpired, Evan felt like he could burt right through his skin.  He’d just tackled the man of his literal dreams—the straight man of his literal dreams—and now he was just casually lying there sprawled out where he’d left him.  If he’d done something like that with any of his school mates, he’d be fitted for a coffin.  Hillcrest had a definite anti-bullying policy, it was progressive by all standards—as long as teachers were present and someone was willing to tattle, of course.  But he wasn’t giving those monsters any of this day.  This day was his.

Laughing, he took off to the edge of the lake, the rough wave crests crashing into his shins as he dodged the highest of whitecaps.  Mason looked on bemused as Evan began to find the rhythm between the waves, dancing in the wet sand as the water pulled away into the depths only to return a few steps later.

“Looks like Evan finally snapped out of his funk,” Max said as he reached down and let Sam get a big lick off the vanilla cone he’d fetched from the snack hut.  Mason could swear the dog’s smile reached his cobalt eyes behind the smear of creamy goodness that coated the fur of his face.  Mason concurred.  This wasn’t a perfect day, but it was close.  

Max sat down under his umbrella, after he dumped and refilled Sam’s water bowl.  The dog slopped the ice cold water all over his face, as Max smiled on from behind.  “How’d you do it?”

“I just set him up with yet another job.”

“I thought you were trying to get him to chill?” Max asked, confused.

“Have you met Evan?  He’d spend every single second he could practicing,” Mason laughed, before his smile grew smaller and more thoughtful.  “He needs to be the best he can, because then they don’t win.”

Max said nothing, braced by Mason’s unexpected honesty.

“It’s just a yoga class or two for Susan down at Nehanu.  But it’ll be enough to buy him some new shoes, and it’ll get him mingling with a different crowd.”

“You’re a good friend,” Max said as his gaze, too, drifted to Evan as he did a series of slow flips amongst the surf.

Above, the gulls circled the shore in endless arcs, never satisfied with where to land amongst the crowds.  As a cool breeze blew off the lake and the small tide of Lake Corbin rushed just ever so slightly higher to shore, Evan Morgan danced between the wave in circles and pirouettes, flips and gestures in an allegro dance that only he heard.  His tightly shut eyes relaxed as he set himself free of the gazes of strangers, and those whom he wished were much more.  All was wind in his hands and cool sand upon his feet.  The clamor of the beachgoers fell away from him and all he heard was the surf, all he felt was the dance that beat in equal time in his chest and upon the shore. His footing was effortless, and all the previous stretching made each movement feel less like a desperate extension and more like an unfurling of the motion that preceded it in whirls and loops and parabolas of form. 

The dance between heart and the waves went on for several minutes, until Evan lost any sort of sense of where he was on the shore, until even the wet sand under his feet seemed to drift away.  He spun and kicked, his arms flowing somewhere between the ballet he took far too seriously and the dancing he saw at the clubs he was able to sneak into.  Everything felt so light, the weight that crushed his chest and shoulders endlessly seemed to have just fluttered away with no warning and it was just the wind and him, moving in from the lake and out again, like breath.  

Opening his eyes just a crack, he swept his gaze from the beach to his feet as a tip of an incoming wave licked the bottom of his feet.  The bottom of my?  His feet passed through the water then, sinking quickly through a gap of air into mud before the lake took back its waters.  He stood there, staring at his now buried feet, before he raised his eyes to try to find Max and Mason in the crowds.  He’d moved much farther down the beach than he’d thought.  His movements had taken him from the westernmost portion where his friends had staked their claim into the more populous area around the snack hut.  He could barely make out Max’s ridiculously large beach umbrella.

His eyes adjusted to the brightness of the scene slowly, odd amorphous shapes floating through his field of his vision.  Evan could make out shapes like clouds in their clusters as he made to blink them away.  They remained, however, through his weaving amongst the families at play and the couples that covered each other in grease so that they wouldn’t cook.  The memory of the water lapping at the bottoms of his feet lingered, much like the fanciful shapes that eventually blinked from view as he approached his friends.  And for the briefest of moments, the ghost of a smile curled the edges of his mouth.