pronounced, his advantage unfair. But in the lake it wasn’t only strength that mattered. Michael was agile and could move and flip around with a bit more ease. Plus, Ronan absolutely loved the way Michael looked when he won. His blond hair plastered down around his face to bring focus to his delicate features, his green eyes sparkling in the sunshine, his full lips forming a wide, happy smile to reveal teeth so white and straight. So incredibly straight. Ronan smiled back at him, but deep within his mind, even in his dream, he thought, What am I doing with him? He’s so innocent, and I haven’t been for quite some time.
While Ronan tossed in his sleep, Michael lay still. He wanted to play this game forever; he wanted to feel Ronan’s power on top of him as he struggled to keep the stone in his hand. He wanted to feel his powerful chest press against his back, Ronan’s cheek with a bare hint of stubble graze against his face, and his hands, those magnificently strong hands, cover his own, smooth and hard on top of his knuckles. Plus, Michael absolutely loved the way Ronan looked when he won. His rugged face brightened like a young boy’s; his eyes filled with surprise as if each win was his first, his arm stretched high overhead creating a deep dimple in his shoulder blade. Ronan could have the stone; he could win every game. Michael just hoped he would never want to stop playing. And then Ronan broke the rules.
He threw the stone up between them, but before it fell, Ronan shouted something to Michael, something he couldn’t quite hear, and dove through the water. What was he doing? He couldn’t have a head start, that wasn’t part of the rules, Michael thought. But he saw through the blue ripples of water that Ronan was diving deeper and deeper into the lake.
Michael dove in next, the white stone swirling near him, now forgotten, its use finished, and he began to swim after Ronan, deeper and deeper until the blueness of the water had turned from pale to dark. But Ronan was nowhere to be found. Michael felt his heartbeat increase as he looked wide-eyed to the left, the right, but still could not bring Ronan into his vision. Where was he? Where had he gone? No, our game isn’t over, Michael thought, not yet. It’s only just begun.
Feeling his chest tighten, Michael brought his knees up, then pushed down to propel himself back up toward and through the water’s surface. Gasping, he gulped air back into his lungs, spinning around to see if Ronan had emerged in a different part of the lake. No, he was alone. As alone as he was back in Weeping Water, as alone as he had been for the first sixteen years of his life. It wasn’t fair. Why should he meet someone who held the promise of companionship, of escape, of possibly a future, only to have that person taken away from him in a split second? Treading water, his legs growing weary, Michael acknowledged with a full heart that life could sometimes be cruel. Then he quickly learned it could also offer hope.
He felt the placid water next to him turn into a current, then a wave, as something shot past him from underneath into the sky above. It was Ronan. His entire body, his entire naked body, free from the confines of the lake, glistening in the sun, was airborne. Michael was astounded by the sight. Pieces of porcelain-colored flesh, midnight black hair slicked back, droplets of water falling from curved muscle, Ronan looked like a god, and Michael thought he looked at him with godly passion.
Now Michael stirred in his bed, his sleeping mind consumed with new and fantastic thoughts, while Ronan lay still. But in their dream they switched roles. Splashing back down, Ronan’s face was euphoric; he embraced Michael roughly and held him close, their bodies melding into one. Michael held on tightly, a bit afraid to journey into this new territory, but fully aware that Ronan would lead him to his destiny. And Ronan was fully aware that without Michael next to him, his destiny would not be worth reaching.
Ronan unfurled his clasped hand and showed Michael the white stone. Always playing games, Michael thought. But no, the time for games had come to an end. Ronan tossed the stone up and behind him because they no longer needed an excuse to touch each other, to give in to the urge to feel each other’s body. They were alive and they wanted each other. It was that simple. And nothing and no one would make them feel ashamed of their desires.
Ronan kissed Michael deeply and then pulled back and repeated what he said to Michael before he dove deep into the water’s hidden area. “I can’t wait to show you all my secrets.”
Finally, both boys awoke bathed in a mixture of joy and fear.
St. Sebastian’s Gym was the largest building on the entire campus. It housed a basketball court, an indoor track, a weight room, a gymnastics annex, locker rooms complete with sauna and steam room, and, on the far end of the building, an Olympic-size swimming pool. The pool was lined with a series of windows just as in St. Joshua’s Library, but these were larger, floor to ceiling, and overlooked the unpopulated forest that belonged to Double A. Long ago the students had given the woods a mysterious name: The Forest of No Return. Just an attempt to be funny, somewhat grand, they had no idea that truth lay behind that name. The trees were so tall and so close together you couldn’t see more than a few feet into their depth and there were large patches within the body of The Forest that held no sunlight, no opening to the sky. Looking out the window, Michael felt as if he were standing at the entrance to the unknown. It was the same feeling he got when he looked to his right to stare at Ronan.
They smiled at each other but turned quickly away, if only for practical reasons. Every boy in class was wearing the same bathing suit, a skimpy navy blue Speedo with two gold As on either side of their hips. While their suits were perfect for the game of water polo they were about to play, they were not the best for concealing their excitement upon seeing each other. Luckily, they only had to distract themselves for a minute before Mr. Blakeley blew his whistle, which meant the kids could jump into the pool’s, thankfully, cold water.
Actually they were playing a cross between water polo and volleyball since the pool was only three feet deep. Fritz was the captain of his team, which included Michael, Ciaran, and several other students Michael didn’t yet know. Ronan and Penry were part of the opposing team, led by a slender Japanese boy he hadn’t met but had heard Ronan call Nakano. He was one of the few kids wearing protective eyewear, goggles made of bright yellow plastic. His hair was cut razor short, but still maintained its deep black color. Michael thought he looked like a bumblebee. After Nakano served the ball with a swift, aggressive punch accompanied by a loud grunt, Michael changed his mind. Nakano looked like a hostile bumblebee.
“Hey, Nebraska!” Fritz shouted. “You might want to try to return the serve next time.”
Michael heard the words in his head. Shut up, Mauro! But this wasn’t Mauro, this wasn’t Two W, this was new, his new life, and Fritz was just ragging on him. It was no big deal. He had heard Fritz taunt some other guys so it wasn’t like he was zeroing in on Michael. At least not for now. Still, he had to figure out a way to veer Fritz’s comments in another direction or say something that would combat them directly. What did Mr. Alfano say? “Stand up for yourself; otherwise it’s only going to get worse.” He agreed with Mr. Alfano, but for the moment he decided it was best to keep quiet.
He was uncomfortable as it was in gym class, He needed to focus all his energy on playing the game and not trying to come up with a clever retort. Michael looked over at Fritz and shrugged his shoulders, missing Ronan glare at Nakano. Ronan’s glare spoke volumes and as a result Nakano’s next serve wasn’t nearly as powerful. Surprised, Michael almost forgot to react, but at the last second, he clasped his hands together, right thumb into left palm, and was able to bounce the volleyball off his forearms and into the air. Ciaran lunged forward and spiked it over the net. One, nothing.
“Like that?” Michael asked Fritz. It was a bit cocky, but Michael couldn’t help himself.
Neither could Fritz, not when it came to competition. “That’s one score, Nebraska. The game hasn’t even started.”
One score was better than none. Michael felt some of the fear that had been suffocating him for so long being released, breath by breath, and replaced with a feeling that resembled happiness. Sad that at sixteen he was only just beginning to be happy; but no, ignore that, ignore the past and look forward, straight ahead at Ronan. Right into the eyes of his future.
What kind of future can I possibly offer him? Ronan tried to push the thought out of his head, but he was so preoccupied with it, he swung and completely missed the ball when Penry lobbed it right to him. It plopped into the water a few inches to his left. “You’re a bit off your game, aren’t you, mate?” Penry asked, and followed up with his trademark laugh. Just as Ronan arched his thick black eyebrows and shrugged his strong shoulders, Nakano remarked in a low voice, “And onto someone else’s.” Michael couldn’t quite catch what he said, but he saw Nakano’s head tilt slightly in his direction. He was definitely talking about him.
The rest of the game seemed to fly by. Fritz shouted some more and a few times aimed his voice at someone other than Michael, Penry made a couple of excellent saves, and Ciaran proved to be the most graceful player in the water, lunging effortlessly to and fro and never once missing the ball when it came to him. It was
