The quiet went a minute, and finally I realized I had to look over at him.
His eyes were focused on me, like shining. As if they were smiling. The mask didn’t matter. I gulped.
“You are also a real boy, Kaz with a z,” Daxton said. “Among other good things.”
“Queer boys bringin’ the realness,” I said, because I’m stupid.
He laughed. “You listen, Kaz. And also, when you say stuff, it’s good stuff. Like if I had to choose one person to be in quarantine, hands down it would be you, Kaz.”
Chills, all over my body, even as the hot Phoenix sun blazed down on my back and shoulders.
“I would, also,” I said. “Like to be with you. In quarantine.”
And it was so awkwardly formal that we both laughed, and Squirrel picked this as the perfect time to try to mount Griffin again, and there was something so symbolic about it that we both left it unspoken.
—
The next morning, I awoke earlier than I even had to, and I showered, which I normally didn’t do in the morning because it’s not like anyone will get within sniffing distance anyway. And I paced the kitchen and then, when I couldn’t wait another second, I leashed up Griffin and went and sat on the concrete of my driveway.
It was just getting warm, and it heated up my legs nicely, and I thought about the things I was going to say today. To Daxton. Who liked the things I said. Who was trustworthy. I thought about telling Daxton about Nimo. It was hard to talk about Nimo, because of how it ended.
Basically, we went out for two months. And the whole time, they were like, ‘What are you so afraid of?’ because they were super open with me and told me all sorts of things. I was afraid, I guess. Because when you tell people stuff, it’s like you uncross the arms you’ve had folded over your chest, and that’s scary. But then, one day, we were having such a good time at this food truck festival at Salt River Fields, eating way more sugar than two people ever should, and I guess eating fry bread loosens some people up, because I just…uncrossed. I told Nimo everything: about my dad leaving, about how lonely it was at home sometimes, about cutting myself. They seemed to listen and they said all these supportive things, and I unclenched my life, which I almost never do. I was beginning to think I was maybe in love with them.
But the problem with unfolding your arms is you leave yourself wide open.
The next day at school, Nimo was distant. Before school. Between classes. I finally cornered them in the cafeteria, and they were like, “I thought we were casual, but it’s getting kinda intense. I need some space.” And just like that, it was over. My friends Gus and Cyndi started hanging with Nimo, and that meant I had no one. And I spent a lot of time alone, thinking about how I would probably not be that open with anyone again. It hurts too much.
I sat there thinking a lot about Nimo, and also how it would be to actually tell Daxton, who would understand, because he seemed to get me. And Griffin got tired and lay down on his side on the concrete, which was now beginning to heat up.
That was when I realized: No Daxton.
I looked at my phone. It was 5:25 a.m. Which is too early to be freaked out about someone not showing up, but we usually met at five, and this had never happened before.
I texted him. Where are you?
No response. My gut started to feel a little queasy.
Five minutes later, I texted again: …?
Nothing came back. My gut twisted, and I slowly got up and brought Griffin, who was confused about what happened to his walk, inside. I went back to bed. And I stayed there.
My brain spent the day fuming. How can a person be that close to you, say all those nice things, and then just disappear? That was crueler, in fact, than never having been there in the first place. Why did Daxton have to pretend I mattered, just to make it clear a few weeks later that I didn’t?
At three p.m. that afternoon, I decided to text him again. I wrote four different versions:
You better be dead. Nothing else is a good enough excuse
I read it and reread it. Many, many times. My finger hovered over the send button. But then I pictured his smiling eyes, and I erased it.
Nice. Standing me up. Lose my number
I erased it.
I don’t have friends who treat me this way
I erased it.
I finally settled on one. It was hard, because I wasn’t feeling it. But I sent this:
You okay, Daxton?
I saw the dots right away.
Hey! So sorry. Emergency with my dad. He’s ok. His blood sugar went through the roof. At hospital. Scary here! Was gonna text but kinda crazy
This feeling flooded through my chest. Like the opposite of the feeling I had when Nimo disappeared on me. Something like grace. Like, maybe the world wasn’t so bad, after all. Like maybe Daxton wasn’t such a Normal, or I was one, too. Whatever. We were the same, and that was what mattered.
That’s ok! Sorry your dad is sick! Miss you!
I miss you too. We should hang out some night
I texted, !!! Me? Why in the world would you want to
I erased it.
Yeah ok. When this is all over for sure. For now, socially distant walks. yay
Nah. I mean yeah. But tonight. 10pm? Come outside. Wear a mask. It’ll be ok, I promise. Just need to see you
This shiver went through my entire body, and I smiled like I hadn’t in a long time.
Ok
—
That night, at ten, I leashed up Griffin.
