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----- A Drink with a Stranger By: Sean Roberts -----
-- Chapter 12 --
Lane made individual promises to both Taylor and Finn to stop drinking, and he followed through. He had needed a bit of time, so he took the next few days off school, started to swim again and used the time to catch up on his homework. He returned to school on Monday and went to find Ellis during lunch. Lane found him sitting with Finn and the rest of the soccer team. Lane walked up to him and said he needed to speak with him urgently, about the paper. Ellis, not being able to make a scene in front of the rest of the soccer team, was forced to accept. They went to the Hunter's office for privacy. After he shut the door, Lane looked straight down at the floor.
"I don't want you to leave the paper. It isn't fair to you, so we'll just split it. The office is yours on Tuesdays and Thursdays, mine on Mondays and Wednesdays. We'll just talk over email. That way you don't have to look at me." His lips were trembling. Ellis' saying he never wanted to talk to Lane were resonating in Lane's mind. They had been ever since Ellis said them. Lane had said the same thing to Finn, so many times, and now he knew how those words felt. He did not look up. He just stood there, waiting for Ellis to say okay. Instead he felt a hand on his chin. There were tears in Lane's eyes, but as he felt his head raised, and caught Ellis' eyes, he found himself relaxing.
"Thanks Lane," Ellis said.
"Ellis, I haven't—I mean, I stopped drinking. Really. And it's thanks to you. I don't expect you to forgive me for anything, but I just want you to know that. And I still can't believe you came over that day after everything. You're really something else. Thank you."
"I overreacted a bit," Ellis said. "I'm glad you're okay. I still can't—we can't be together. We can't go back to the way things were. But we don't have to hate each other either." Lane threw his arms around Ellis. He had not meant to, it was an automatic reaction. Ellis gave out a short, surprised laugh and hugged him back.
Lane found Taylor after school, and took him out to a burger joint. He ordered them burgers, fries and extra large milkshakes.
"Why?" Taylor asked. "Because I didn't tell mom and dad?"
"Yes. But also because I'm sorry. And I promise I'll stop." Taylor nodded and bit into his burger. He took a large sip of his milkshake, smiling at his brother.
"You missed the last game," Taylor said grinning from ear to ear. "You know I scored the winning goal?" Lane gave him a high five.
--
The next evening, Lane went to Finn's locker, where Finn was just zipping his bag.
"Hey, want to grab some dinner?"
"Sure," Finn said. "What's the occasion?" Lane waited until they got out of the school building to say anything.
"I need to catch you up on a couple of things. But mainly, I wanted to say thanks for coming over that day, for taking care of me, and Taylor—"
"It's cool," Finn said. "You've been staying sober?"
"Yeah, it sucks." Finn laughed.
"Tell me about it." They got to the car. Before starting the engine, Lane turned to Finn.
"Ellis found out it's me selling the assignments. He broke up with me and—"
"What the fuck Lane?" Finn said. "How the hell did he find out?" Lane told Finn exactly what had happened. "So after everything we did—no wonder you wanted to get blind drunk." Lane started the car. Finn asked if they could go to a place he knew, far away. Lane said it sounded perfect. Finn asked for a semi-circular booth where they could sit together. The waitress smiled at them obligingly and took them over to one. Lane found Finn's hand on his thigh.
"Finn..."
"What? You and Ellis aren't...oh. Too soon I guess. Sorry." Finn took off his hand. Lane was looking at him; at this beautiful boy who had been there for him ever since this mess started. His first love. And he leaned forward and kissed him. But it felt strange, somehow. Not like kissing Ellis. It was familiar, and comforting, but there was a sterility to it. Lane knew exactly what it would feel like; and the actual feeling was no different. There was nothing surprising about the kiss; there was no depth to fall into. He felt Finn leaning into him, the sensation of their tongues touching, but nothing more than that. They heard the clearing of a throat and Lane looked up, embarrassingly at the waitress, who turned out to be Ellis. Lane's eyes widened. A sack of bricks landed on his stomach. There was no possibility Ellis was there, in that restaurant, at that particular moment, watching them kiss. But the phantom was not disappearing.
"I was just having dinner with my family and saw you two sitting over here. I decided to come and say hello. Obviously I picked a bad time," Ellis said.
"Ellis—" Ellis put a hand in the air; Lane stopped talking immediately.
"Please, enjoy your dinner guys." Lane glanced at Finn, who was staring at Ellis with the same shocked look.
"Ellis!" Finn said. Lane was glad that Finn was going to say something, hopefully clear this up. "Ellis, obviously nobody knows that I'm—" Ellis put another hand in the air.
"I won't tell anyone."
"Thanks Ellis," Finn said. "I appreciate that. Well, I never told anyone about you, so I guess—" Ellis' face suddenly turned red.
"What?" Ellis said, raising his voice. "What about me?" A second sack of bricks fell on top of the first one; Lane felt even sicker.
"Well, just that—" Ellis looked at Lane.
"You told him, didn't you," Ellis said, looking directly at Lane. Ellis took a deep breath. "I'd better get back to my family," Ellis said. He turned around and walked away quickly.
--
It was another aggressive match against St. Thomas, but Ellis Walsh was taking the brunt of it. His own team was leaving him alone, apparently having gotten over the article that threatened to get most of them in trouble. Ellis was playing as skilfully as ever when he had the ball, but was not really fighting. It looked like he was letting them kick him around. After the last Hunter article about the soccer match, Lane was playing close attention this time, making sure to not leave out any detail.
Ellis was magnificent, though, when he had the ball. Whenever it was there, between his feet, his concentration honed in onto it, his brow furrowed and he kicked it expertly, calmly, and it always hit its mark. He turned his head slightly, and in the blink of an eye he had calculated the angle and distance of the next player. The ball shot over to one of the other strikers who knocked it straight into the net. Lane was leaning forward, his eyes like a hawk's, not taking his eyes off the ball for even a second. A figure suddenly ran past Ellis, but Lane did not see, for the angle, exactly what had happened, but Ellis collapsed.
The difference, this time, was he did not get up. Lane stood up. It had only been a few moments but it felt like an eternity. Finally he heard the whistle blow. He saw the coach and Ellis' team members running over to him. They huddled around him. Lane knew he could not run over and join them, but it was killing him to be sitting there in the bleachers, not knowing what was happening. Lane scanned the pitch and found Keith, hoping for some clue on this face. There was none. At least, at the end of the day, an ambulance was not needed.
Ellis, once again, was not picking up his phone or answering his messages. Lane gave up after a couple of days. They respected each others' days using the Hunter's office, and Lane only heard from Ellis—by email only—when it came time for them to finalise the details for the next edition.
The weekend rolled around. Lane spent most of Saturday studying, after which he decided that he had earned himself a treat. He had discovered a number of good hiding spots in his room over the years, and when he located one of his bottles of scotch, he also found a small box containing a thousand dollars in cash.
"Well fuck me," he said. He decided to skip the scotch. On Tuesday after school, he went to the Hunter's office. He was about to knock on the door when he heard voices.
"What the fuck is wrong with you!" It was Finn. "You weren't supposed to get yourself injured!"
"I was distracted," Ellis said. "But what does it matter? It worked."
"So how's your arm?"
"It's pretty good. I'll be all healed up in a couple of days. I'll be completely ready for Friday's match; they won't know what hit them."
"Good man," Finn said. "Hey, Ellis, one more thing, umm, about Lane ..."
"It's over Finn," Ellis said. "And I don't want to talk about why."
"Then why did you get upset when you saw us?"
"Are you kidding me with this?"
"No. I understand why. I-I just...you and I are friends. It isn't right what I did. But at the same time, you guys are broken up, and I don't know what to do."
"Listen Finn, what you do with Lane is between the two of you. We aren't together anymore. As for you though, aren't you still dating Victoria?"
"Well, I guess there's a few small details that need to be worked out."
"I'm not going to say anything, obviously," Ellis said. "But, you know, just be careful."
"Okay," Finn said. "Thanks."
"Yeah. So listen, I've got a lot of stuff to do, so I'll see you later?"
"Sure. Take care man." Lane disappeared, waited fifteen minutes then returned to the office. This time he knocked on the door. Ellis opened the door looking tired, his arm in a sling.
"I'm sorry Ellis," Lane said. "I know I'm not supposed to be here. I-I just have something I need to give you. It'll just take a second, okay?" Ellis nodded and stepped back from the door. Lane entered the office and put his knapsack down on one of the desks. He took out the box.
"It's about time," Ellis said.
"I know it is. I don't know how, but I completely forgot about it. How's your arm by the way?"
"Not great," Ellis said. "It hurts a lot less. But the doctor said it'll be a week at minimum. And even after it heals, I need to take it easy for at least another week or two, so it means no soccer for a while. You might as well put that in the paper. It'll save a bunch of people from asking me." Lane did not bother to ask why Lane had given Finn a different answer.
"Yeah, sure, I'll put that in. And sorry about your arm."
"It was my fault. I was distracted."
"By what?"
"By some fucking, cheating fucking asshole," Ellis said. For that moment, just for that one sentence, Ellis lost his cool. He took a breath and got back to normal. "Anything else Lane?"
"Look, Ellis, I'm sorry about—"
"I don't want to hear it Lane."
"Okay. Well since you mention it, there is something else. It's probably none of my business, but where did you get a thousand bucks?"
"It's a long story, Lane," Ellis said.
"Right. It was just—anyway—you have it back. I should leave you alone." Ellis nodded. Lane picked up his knapsack and walked towards the door.
"Lane," Ellis said, "just while you're here. How did you get it?" Ellis held up the box.
"What do you mean? You left it in the chem lab, above the ceiling tile."
"Yes, but that's not what I meant. We were having dinner when it was retrieved."
"Yeah, but--"
"I don't expect you to tell me who it was," Ellis said. "Not that it would surprise me, but I don't actually think you're one to rat someone out. But that's why we had dinner that day. And afterwards we—well, you were there—but it was a distraction. That's a pretty big slap in the face."
"Well it shouldn't be. I wanted to go out with you. And what we did afterwards had nothing to do with being a distraction. It happened because I—because we—wanted to. And besides, what about the fact that you wanted this person—who turned out to be me—expelled? How do you think I feel about that?"
"I can appreciate that Lane," Ellis said. "But keep in mind that I didn't know it was you. If I had known it was you, especially after we started going out, I would have handled things differently. At the very least, I wouldn't have done anything behind your back." Lane looked at Ellis; looked into those beautiful eyes of his. Ellis did not blink; his voice did not stutter. And Lane believed that however Ellis would have handled the situation, he was telling the truth. He would have been honest about everything. Except, of course, about what happened at the soccer match.
--
They finished the kiss that had started at the restaurant. Lane had invited himself over to Lane's, and they were sitting in Lane's bedroom, kissing.
"I'm sorry I haven't called you," he said.
"Me too," Lane said. "Everything's just been a bit, you know, weird."
"Yeah, I know." Finn leaned forward and kissed him again. It was another neutral kiss, like the one in the restaurant. And when it was over, it was over. They sat down beside each other on the bed. Lane came up with the excuse.
"Finn, you know, we really shouldn't. You're seeing Victoria. And, well, I feel bad every time we—"
"I know Lane. I do too. I was so convinced I wanted you back. I even talked to Ellis, to see if you two were really over."
"Really? How'd he take it?"
"He took it well. But it's Ellis, he takes everything well."
"Umm, what did he say?"
"He said that you're broken up. He reminded me that I'm still dating Victoria."
"Right," Lane said.
"And he's right. I am still dating Victoria. This doesn't mean I don't want you back, but she's pretty great. She's like you, in a lot of ways. Maybe that's why I fell for her. I just went to see her before I came here. I was going to break up with her, but I couldn't. This time, Lane, if you decide to hate me forever, I think I'll probably just listen." Lane smiled.
"I forgive you Finn. Not for this—you don't even have to say sorry about this. I'm glad you like her. I mean for the other thing. I probably forgave you a long time ago, in a way, but I never really understood how."
"Thank you Lane," Finn said. "You know, it's kind of funny. I have trouble with her, you know, getting it ... well, you know. At least I had trouble, until you and I started talking again. I needed you. Or at least I needed things between us to end properly. I always felt like I was cheating on you with her. Even though that's ridiculous, since we haven't been together for so long."
"It isn't ridiculous. I've felt like I was cheating on you with Ellis."
"Oh."
"But I guess we're both off the hook now."
"Yeah. So what are you going to do about him?"
"I don't know. You up for a drink?"
"What happened to you staying sober?"
"Well, I still am. I'm not going to drink bottle after bottle anymore."
Lane took out that bottle of scotch he had never opened, and they toasted their friendship. They kept it to one drink; Lane actually stopped after Finn left. At least one thing was going well, Lane thought as he drifted off to sleep.