lost_boy | (no subject)

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elio

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It was official. I was in the tenth grade.

That meant absolutely nothing to me, except that I wasn't in the same grade as Eddie, which was a big disappointment, and I thought I was in the same grade as Eponine, which was a nice feeling. And that in itself was more complicated than I wanted to dwell on for very long, because I still couldn't really work out more than half of what I felt and how much of it was allowed or appropriate.

I wanted to stamp down on these feelings. Sal was dead and I didn't know what it meant to think about anyone else the way I had thought of her. Harder still, I didn't know what it meant that I was thinking of another boy the way I'd thought of her.

Rather than let myself dwell on any of that, I was forcing myself to think about school. It was starting in just a few weeks and now that I knew where I would officially be placed, there were things I had to buy. The school had given me a list when I was there earlier with a volunteer from the Children's Home and the man had offered to come with, but I had just shaken my head. I could do this on my own.

Then I realized I couldn't. I didn't know what some of the things were, what they meant. I didn't want to ask the people from the Home, and I felt too embarrassed to ask one of my friends who would be at school with me, and so I knew exactly who I had to ask.

I texted Elio, asking if he would meet me, then waited near the store for him with my list clutched in one fist. Maybe it was a little stupid, but it made me angry, not knowing what these items were. I knew the simple things, like pencils and pens, but I didn't know what a protractor was or loose leaf or a binder.

I hated not knowing things.

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When I get the text from Jamie, I actually feel kind of touched. It means a lot that he would reach out to me for help, even with something as simple as this. I don’t start up classes at Barton for a few weeks, but I can get some supplies today too.

I find him standing on a street corner looking clenched, and I hook my thumbs in the straps of my backpack as I approach. “Hey, Jamie. Keep doing that with our face and it’ll stick that way.”

Letting go of my bag, I give him a soft, teasing punch to one shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

"I don't know what half this stuff means," I answered, thrusting the list toward Elio, as if it were entirely to blame for my difficult mood. I wasn't upset exactly and I didn't think I was in the sort of mood I was careful to look out for these days, the one that I had learned from Peter, where I would take my bad mood out on others. That was something he had done all the time, something I knew I had picked up from him and I was very careful not to do it here. None of the friends I had made in Darrow deserved such treatment.

I was in a difficult mood, I thought, because of all the things I felt I couldn't talk about. That wasn't Elio's fault.

"I have to get all this before school," I said, my voice a little softer. "What's a protractor?"

My expression softens as understanding dawns, and I nod a little. I also get frustrated when I don't know something, not stopping until I figure it out. Taking the list, I turn to stand next to him, bumping our shoulders together a bit.

"You lived on an island. Why would you need to know what any of this stuff was?" I say magnanimously, shrugging my shoulders as I skim over the list. "You didn't need to know it before but now you do, so you'll learn and it'll all be fine. I'm here to help."

The list is all pretty standard back to school staples, with only a few more modern things that I may need to figure out myself. "It's a little tool used to measure angles. You'll use it in your math class." I hand the list back to him and point towards one of the bigger stores up the block. It's sort of like a department store, but for everything. We certainly didn't have those back in Italy. "I'm going to start classes up here in a few weeks too. We can both get our shopping done."

Elio was nicer than I deserved and I made a face, my mouth twisting and my nose wrinkling, but a second later I nodded and gave him a little smile. He was right, there was no reason for me to know about any of these things, about what was required for school, because I had never been to school before. As it was, I thought I was lucky they were letting me into the tenth grade rather than anything lower.

Except if I was in the lower grade, I'd have classes with Eddie.

"Okay," I agreed. "Thank you. One of the volunteers at the home said he could help me, but I thought it would be easy. Just pencils and books." I wasn't good at math, I didn't know why I would need tools or to measure angles, but Elio knew better than I did. That was why I had asked for his help in the first place.

“To be honest, this list is kind of overkill,” I tell him, hefting my backpack up my shoulder and leading him towards the store. “They’ll most likely provide your textbooks there.” We enter the giant store and I grab a shopping cart, tossing my bag in it and heading for the school supplies. “First things first, a backpack to put everything in.”

There’s a whole wall of backpacks, some garishly colored and obviously geared for children, but there are plenty of simpler choices. “Pick whatver one you want.”

I watch as his eyes scan over the backpacks and I lean to rest my forearms against the cart. “Are you nervous about school?”

I considered the question as I looked over the bags Elio had indicated, trying not to let the sheer amount of choice overwhelm me. The colours were endless, blue and green and pink and purple, and as soon as I settled on one bag I thought I might like, my eye was drawn to something else. I thought about the plain colours, considering them the same way I thought about the question, but I kept looking back to a bag the colour of rich wine.

I reached for it, taking it down off the wall almost shyly, as if I thought Elio might tell me I had picked the wrong one.

"I don't think so," I answered as I set the backpack in the cart. "Some of the volunteers at the Home have been helping me catch up with some stuff they think I should know. And I know some people who'll be in the same grade as I am." And Elio knew I wouldn't be easily bullied, so I wasn't too worried about facing that sort of obstacle. "I don't know what teachers will be like. I think they'll be like the workers at the Home."

“I like that color,” I offer as he puts the bag in the cart, because it seems like he may be looking for some sort of approval. Jamie sometimes seems like he’s waiting for someone to berate him, like maybe he hasn’t gotten a lot of approval, so if a few kind, honest words might help him then I am happy to provide.

“I was assigned to the home but I never stayed there,” I tell him with a shrug, moving beyond the backpacks since I already have one. “I was at Green Gardens for a few weeks until I got emancipated, and then I moved into an apartment. Do they treat you well there?”

There are big cardboard displays in the main aisles advertising back to school sales with bins full of various supplies. It makes going down the list a little easier, and I make kind of a divider in the cart with his backpack so all of our choices don’t get mixed up.

Ellie was emancipated, too, and I only knew the word now because she had explained it to me. I wondered if it was as much work for Elio as it had been for her. I knew it would be too much work for me, because I didn't particularly want to be on my own yet. I felt more adult than some of the kids I'd met here, but at the same time there were things I didn't know anything about and I wanted to learn. I wanted to learn properly, like a real kid would, and that meant not rushing headlong into being a grown up.

I didn't have to, not anymore. Not without Peter hanging around.

"They're okay. Nice," I said. "But they're busy. One of the volunteers, Marcus, he says they don't have a lot of money, so they can't hire more staff, which is why he comes for free. He helps with my homework sometimes, he's pretty nice. I like Scott, too, he comes and does our bed checks."

“That’s good. I’m glad you’re doing well there,” I say sincerely, picking out some pens and pencils and holding them up for Jamie’s approval. “I just knew that it wasn’t the right place for me. I was almost eighteen anyway, and I wanted to be close to Oliver. I had my own apartment for awhile, then moved in with him.”

We get a few more cheap essentials, like notebooks and folders and a protractor for Jamie, and then I bite my lip as I look over at him. It’s still so new and far from a sure thing, but I’m too excited not to tell people. “We’re looking to rent a little house out by the lake. I really hope that it all works out.”

I looked at the things Elio held up for me to see and because I didn't know any better, I just nodded. I had to assume Elio knew better than I did and I wondered if pens and pencils were really that different from other kinds, but if they were, Elio would get me the right ones.

"Who's Oliver?" I asked, my interest drawn toward that name rather than the school supplies. I liked what we were getting, I liked knowing I would have the right things and no one would find anything wrong with me to pick on. I wasn't afraid of bullies, but I was trying to take what Simon said to heart. If I could avoid having anyone else start fights with me, it would be okay.

But Oliver was more interesting than school supplies. I didn't know Oliver, but Elio lived with him and they were going to rent a house by the lake.

"Have I never told you his name?" I reply with an easy laugh, shaking my head at my own ridiculousness. "Oliver is my boyfriend. You've had to have seen him."

But maybe not. Oliver is getting better, but he can still sometimes just actively avoid things that make him uncomfortable. Me having a younger doppelganger is one of those things, apparently. Whenever Jamie and I are in the same place, Oliver just sort of vanishes. It's charming and idiotic all at once. Even still, I am sure that my expression is utterly besotted as I talk about him.

"He was with me at the beach," I tell Jamie, holding my hand about half a foot above my ahead. "Very tall, very blond, very handsome."

Edited 2018-08-15 23:10 (UTC)

Everyone here had a boyfriend or a girlfriend or a lover or whatever other titles they decided to give the people they were kissing. I knew it wasn't just kissing, I knew there was other stuff involved, I'd been around other kids my age long enough now to have heard the laughter and the gossip, but I didn't know details. I wasn't sure I wanted to. Not yet.

Right now I was still happy enough to think of relationships as holding hands and kissing.

"You're gay?" I asked. It didn't bother me and I thought that was probably clear in my tone. I was still trying to work out all the right terms and what might apply to me. Nicaise had said it was okay if I didn't know, but I was still very curious about how other people saw themselves. What sort of titles they would use.

It wasn’t so long ago that such a question, even so innocently asked, might have rankled me. It was also not so long ago that there was a part of myself that I had yet to acknowledge or explore. Now, I am comfortable with who I am. It came easy for me, easier than for most, and I’m grateful for that. But I understand what it’s like to be confused, to long for answers.

“Bisexual,” I reply easily, and because this is Jamie and he may not know what it means, “I’m attracted to men and women, but I’m with Oliver. I don’t plan on ever being with anyone else.”

Perhaps it’s uncommon to have found your soulmate by eighteen, but I’m always prided myself on never being ordinary.

That was a big thing to say, I thought, especially since Elio was so young, but I supposed my mother had been no much older when she decided not to be with anyone else besides my father. Of course, my father had been a very big mistake. I doubted Oliver was the same.

"Nicaise explained it to me," I said, looking at a wall of books with zippers along the side. I took one down to look at it instead of looking at Elio, then unzipped it and read the tag inside, which told me it was a three ring zippered binder. Whatever that meant.

"I don't know what I am," I admitted, still not looking at Elio. "Before there was Sal... Sally. But I liked her even when I thought she was a boy. And now..." I shrugged. Now there was Eddie. But also sometimes Veronica. In different ways.

"Yeah, Nicaise is a good friend," I tell him, gesturing towards the binders and the folders that go inside. "Pick out one of those. And some folders. It'll help keep you organized. I liked to have a folder for each class."

Jamie speaks and I listen, selecting a binder for myself since he seems to not want a great deal of attention. At first I feel like I may not be qualified to give him any advice. I am so new to all of this myself, but I am so grateful for the advice given to me by friends that I've made here. I may not be an expert on the topic, but I have something to say about it.

"It sounds like you might be like me," I offer easily, keeping my voice quiet so no one overhears, even though we're currently alone in the aisle. "But there is nothing wrong with taking the time to figure it out. There is nothing wrong with how you feel, or what you want. There's no need to put a label on anything. Kiss girls if you want to. Kiss boys if you want to." Finally, I look over at him and give him a reassuring smile. "And if you ever want to talk, I'm here."

"I'm supposed to just kiss them?" I asked, feeling a little scandalized as I put the zippered book in the cart. It was blue, dark, and it went nicely with my backpack. I didn't think matching things up really mattered, but it pleased me that they did, even if I didn't really understand why.

I wondered if other boys my age just kissed people all the time without thinking about it. The only person I had ever kissed was Sal and that had felt enormous, as if we were doing something we had both been waiting for a very long time, something perfect and also forbidden, because if Peter had ever caught us he would have destroyed the entire Island.

But I also understood. A little. I wanted to kiss Eddie sometimes. I tried not to think about it, but I did.

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