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Weight of Silence(30)

By:A.M. Arthur


Nothing would change his mind about college, though.

He grabbed his coat and was waiting on the front step when Gavin pulled into the driveway. The sight of that Jeep, as old and banged up as it was, always sent a little jolt of energy through Jace because of who was driving it. Jace climbed into the passenger seat, his knee barely protesting the swing up. The heat was on full blast and he began to sweat immediately, but it didn’t stop him from leaning over the console to kiss Gavin.

He tasted like Coke, Jace noted with a grin, as he fell back into his seat. Gavin was smiling back at him. “You’re in a lot better mood than at lunch,” Gavin said.

“My knee doesn’t hurt quite as much,” Jace replied, which was true. Most of his irritation earlier, though, had been because of Molly and Rachel’s interruption. Sooner or later, he and Gavin would be able to sit down for a meal together and not have to pretend they were just friends.

“That’s good to hear.”

Jace blinked, startled, until he realized Gavin meant his knee. “Yeah.”

“So, instead of going back to my place, I had a thought.”

“Uh oh. Did something catch on fire when you had this thought?”

“Ha ha.” Gavin smacked him gently on the shoulder then backed out of the driveway. “No, wiseass.”

“So what’s the thought?”

“No way, now you have to wait and see.”

Jace pretended to pout, but he kind of liked the idea of a surprise from Gavin. As he drove, Gavin told him a story about a customer knocking down a display of boxed Christmas ornaments that were on markdown, including a detailed description of the amount of glitter he’d had to sweep up because of the mess. Gavin had a knack for spinning a tale, and Jace listened with genuine amusement. After about ten minutes of driving, Jace recognized the direction they’d taken.

“Are we going back up to Carter’s Lake?” he asked as the Jeep headed out of town.

“That we are,” Gavin replied.

“You know, if you want to make out with me, there are warmer places to do it.” Jace waggled his eyebrows.

“Believe me, I know.”

Gavin drove up the gravel road and parked the Jeep in the grassy clearing that overlooked the lake and its narrow beach. Ice coated the shore of the lake for a good twelve inches, and a few patches of snow from the dusting they’d received two days ago still hid beneath the pier. The stark, black branches of the leafless trees all around the lake gave it a lonely, abandoned feeling.

“Don’t tell me we came up here to go skinny dipping,” Jace said.

Gavin laughed. “Hardly.” He reached into the backseat and retrieved a sketchpad. He flipped through it to find the nearly complete sketch of the lake, then pulled a pencil out of the spine of the sketchpad. “I was inspired to finish something.”

“Really?” Jace couldn’t stop his wide smile, or the warm feeling inside from knowing Gavin was going to complete the sketch.

“Yup. I hope you don’t mind I brought you with me.”

“Of course not. I’m glad you did.”

“You might get bored. I tend to fuss over the details and go really slowly.”

“If I get bored I’ll take a walk around the lake. No biggie.”

He managed to sit quietly for about ten minutes, watching Gavin work on the sketch. He braced the pad against the steering wheel and held it with his left hand, while his right pulled and scratched the tip of his pencil against the rough paper. Gavin drew with an intensity that Jace hadn’t seen him put into anything else—his black eyebrows furrowed hard, and at times, the tip of his tongue poked out from the corner of his mouth.

Jace wanted to stay put and watch, but sitting still was making his knee ache. Gavin didn’t look up when Jace climbed out of the Jeep. He walked down to the shoreline, which Gavin had drawn a long time ago, so he was pretty sure his presence wouldn’t interrupt the creative process. He tapped the toe of his sneaker against the crust of ice. It broke easily. It rarely got cold enough out here to completely freeze the lake. Dad said the last time it happened was twenty years ago.

He gazed out across the water. A platform used to float about twenty feet out from the pier, back when this was a safe place for kids and their families to swim. The water wasn’t clean enough anymore, but teenagers still occasionally came out here to party on weekends. Not as often as they used to, since Mr. Rhodes was attacked, because the town police made more regular trips to patrol the area.

Jace never could wrap his head around anyone wanting to hurt Mr. Rhodes like that. Everyone in town liked him, and anybody who’d graduated Stratton Senior High had him for at least one art class. Sure, there were always jerks who gave him lip because he was gay, and bigger jerks who talked about him behind his back. But he’d been beaten up. Badly, according to Jace’s dad, who was in the E.R. when Mr. Rhodes was brought in.