Rebound

Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:

1. If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You shouldn't be here.

2. I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or anything else. This is a work of pure fiction.

Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I enjoy constructive criticism, praise, and rational discussion. I do not enjoy flames, and will not tolerate them.

That said, we now continue.

The drive out of the city was less than an hour, even with traffic. I had a five minute stop at the florist on the way, and a bouquet of flowers rested, wrapped in paper, on the seat next to me. I felt sometimes like I could make this drive with my eyes closed, like I was running on autopilot. As with so many other things, coming here was a habit, down from once a week to about once every three, and I knew even as I walked out of the store that Michelle would know exactly where I was going. Justin wouldn't, but I knew that Michelle would tell him if he asked. Justin hadn't said anything after I kissed him goodbye, but I could tell he was worried. He believed I was coming back, I could tell that from his face, but I could also see that he wanted to come with me.

I needed to make this trip alone. Someday Justin could come with me, but for now, this visit needed to be just me and Matt.

I parked the car in the side lot, knowing the visiting hours for the cemetery as well as I knew the hours for the bookstore. There were no other cars there, but there usually weren't in the middle of the day on a weekday. It wasn't quite a country cemetery, but I never would have known about the place if Matthew hadn't found it himself and left the instructions with our lawyer. There was a low fence around the grounds, and a small chapel in the middle, where we had held Matt's funeral. Before he died, I didn't have any funerary arrangements. I never thought about stuff like that, because I was young and in love and was going to live forever, but Matthew had been the practical one. I had arrangements now, but they were just a copy of his.

In a book I read once one of the characters said, "It's always raining when you bury someone you love." I can't remember the book, but it was a quote that came back to me when Matt died, when I stood in the chapel that I could see now, through the fence, and stared at the wooden box that somehow took the place of my boyfriend, my lover, my soul. Before they let anyone in the sanctuary they had given me a minute alone, the funeral director and the minister standing in the vestibule as I was given one last look at Matt before they closed the casket. He didn't want to have it open during the ceremony, but he had asked that I be given time to say goodbye, one of the many other things that I wouldn't have thought of. Even now, I'm not sure if looking into the casket was something I should have done or not. I know that Matt wanted me to see him, that he was worried that I would later regret it if I didn't, but the Matt that I remembered was the one I fell in love with, the guy who stole books out of my hands and told me that he loved me in front of everyone. I remembered someone who was full of life, the guy who had held my hand so tightly the first night we spent in the bookstore, walking me through the building and the loft and telling me over and over that it was ours.

I remembered Matt, not the waxen dummy in the box in front of me.

The minister, a man Matt and I both knew because we went to services every week in his church, had walked me quietly to the casket's side, and told me to take as long as I needed. I just stood there, because I didn't know what else I was supposed to do. For days after Matt died, after the night in the hospital, I had been numb, a sleepwalking zombie. My friends, or my parents, or Matt's family made sure I ate something, or that I showered, or got dressed, because I wasn't capable of doing it myself for a while. Pete had made sure I was dressed for the funeral, going to the loft to pick out clothes for me. I was staying on Michelle's couch, because I didn't want to go home. I was sure that this was all some sort of mistake, that this was a terrible dream that I would wake up from, and I was waiting for Matt to come get me. I was waiting for Matt to come tell me to hurry up and get ready, because we had things to do, and places to go, and Matt never came.

When I stood at the side of the coffin, looking down at this waxy thing that looked like Matt, and I realized it was true. Matthew, my Matthew, was gone. The eyes that I knew so well, those warm brown eyes that made you think of chocolate and puppies and everything else, wouldn't open. His hair was done, but it was too careful. Matt never did his hair like that, never took any time on it. He got up in the morning, showered, and combed it once for the day. If it got windblown, or he got hat head, or whatever else, he never fixed it. Matt never wore makeup, either. Mat would never have had blush on his cheeks like this, and his lips wouldn't have glowed with unnatural color. Looking back now, I realize that they had actually done a good job with him, that they had expended all of this effort only for me, but then, I just thought he looked alien, completely foreign to me. It wasn't Matt, but in some frightening way, it was. Matthew had been exchanged for this doppelganger, this lifeless husk that used to be someone I loved and now was just a shell.

Death had taken him from me, but not just death. I looked around, looked at the minister whispering softly to the man from the funeral home, and I took in the candles, and the crosses, and the stained glass windows. I never went to services again. The minister called me a few times, at the loft, where I'd slowly moved back in, but I didn't return his calls. Matt's faith had been important to him, and I had adopted it as my own, but now I took no comfort in it. A well meaning friend had babbled to me at calling hours about God's plan for everyone, and I had walked away in the middle of the conversation, not interested in hearing it. I wasn't interested at all in anything anyone had to say about God if this was what God had planned for us. If this was the way God chose to reward Matt's faith, and Matt's family, and me, then God could keep his own counsel, and I would keep mine.

It wasn't raining when we buried Matt, although I thought it should have been, and it wasn't raining today, either. I pulled the paper off of the flowers, tossing it on the seat as I got out of the car, and pulled up the collar of my jacket as I got out of the car. Early October, on an overcast day like this, could be a little crisp, and a light breeze ruffled my hair and the bouquet as I walked slowly through the parking lot. I followed the fence to the side entrance, near the parking area, and then walked inside, ignoring the chapel as I followed the road. The cemetery was one of the newer memorial park models, not just rows of stones like I'd always thought of them when I was younger. There were trees, and bushes, and benches, and my feet knew the route by heart. Follow the road to the first curve, up a gently rising hill, and then leave it to walk twenty feet over grass, past a small mausoleum, to a tree with one low stone under it.

There was a variety of trees in the memorial park, all different kinds, and I was glad that Matt had foregone some of the options to just go with a plain, firm oak tree. There were acorns on the ground around the base of it, but I was ok with that, and pleased he hadn't picked an apple tree. The sight of rotting fruit on top of his grave might have been a little too symbolic for me, as occasionally I had trouble stopping myself from thinking about the tree roots, and what they must be growing into. At those times I reminded myself that Matt was beyond hurt down there, under this simple granite stone that he had picked out. The stone was wide, but not very ornamented, and I glanced down at the familiar writing as I brushed off the top, flicking a few brownish leaves and some acorns off of it. They fell off to the side, onto the grass which was still green but starting to dry out, getting that crackly fall feeling as if it was turning to straw. The end of things was in the air, but it always seemed to be here.

There was a short vase in the top of the stone, right in the middle, a plain tube that the stems of the flowers could hide inside, and it was empty, as always. The grounds crew removed the bouquets when they got older, as they died and started to disintegrate, so that I could replace them each time I came. I got tulips, regardless of the season, because they were Matt's favorite, and always brought them in his favorite colors: red, yellow, orange, or a mix of the three. I knew he wasn't really down there, in the ground, but I felt closer to him when I was here. If I wanted to feel him, I came out here, because I had done so much to redesign the loft, to scrub it clean of his presence. I could feel it in the store, but there were so many other things there, so many other memories and people to muddy things up. Out here, things were clearer, quieter, and I could feel like Matt was listening to me. He hadn't specified it, but I had installed a small bench facing the stone, after the funeral, when it became obvious that I was going to be out here regularly, and I sat down on it, staring at the rock in front of me.

"Hi, baby," I said quietly, my eyes tracing the words in front of me. They were clustered on one side of the stone, his name with the dates of his birth and loss below it. There were no other words, no inscription. How could you sum up a life in a few words? The space on the other side of the stone was for me, to share with Matt at some point. "I know it's been a little while since I've been out here, but things are going well. The store is good, the kids are good, and everything else is going well, like I said."

There weren't any birds out here, so it was always quiet. I looked at the acorns, kicking one absently with my shoe.

"Matt, I need to talk to you, about something, that, well, something that's been happening lately. If you're watching, you already know about it, but if not, I need to tell you, because, I don't know. I just, I'm trying to figure out how I feel about things, and I need to try to explain it to you, too."

The breeze rustled through my hair, fluffing it a little, and I closed my eyes. Saying this out loud was harder than I thought it would be, but I felt like I needed to. After everything April had said, and all the doubts I'd been having on my own, I needed to feel like I'd closed things between Matt and I, like things between us were ok. Closing my eyes, I could imagine that he was sitting next to me, that one of the smells coming on the breeze would be his cologne, the Calvin Klein aftershave that he always wore.

"I met someone, Matt. His name is Justin, and I don't know if you'd know who he is, because I don't remember either of us knowing much about his band, and I don't think they were very big. He's a little spoiled, but he's a nice guy. I think you'd like him. He's cute, too. I think if you were here that the two of you would probably really like each other."

I wasn't just saying that. Justin and Matthew had a lot in common. They were both energetic and impulsive, and as much as I thought the two of them would enjoy each other, they'd probably also have each other bouncing off the walls. Matt had a serious side when he needed to, and from what I'd seen Justin did, too. Both of them could turn introspective, and both of them felt everything pretty deeply while somehow managing to cover it.

"I met him through April, and that's kind of why I'm here. Your sister is a little mad at me right now, and I'll explain why in a minute."

April and I had never fought like that before, not really. We squabbled a little, kind of like a real brother and sister, but last night had been different. She had seemed so hurt and disappointed at the same time, and it was so easy to see the same expression on Matt's face. The two of them looked so much alike that hearing it from her was almost like hearing it from him. I needed to know, though, that he wouldn't take things the same way. I needed to believe that he would understand, or Justin and I were going to crash before we even got off the ground.

"Justin's in a lot of pain, Matt. He came here to see April because someone hurt him, someone he loved, and your sister wasn't here, because she was out being April. She had some kind of, well, it doesn't matter. She was out having fun with a boy, and she left Justin with me because she thought it would help him to talk to someone else who was gay. She wouldn't return our calls all week, either one of us, so Justin and I just kept talking to each other, and I guess, you know, I guess it worked out, kind of, but not the way she planned, and that's why she's pissed."

My eyes were still closed, and in my mind I could see him now, sitting on the bench next to me as I faced his stone with my head down. I could see those warm brown eyes, like melted chocolate, and his ruffled, messy hair twisting in the wind. It was short on the sides, but long on top. When he was out being a jock, he tucked it under a hat, but when we were just being ourselves he loosened up a little. He would have a little bit of a scruff, too, on his chin and cheeks. Sometimes he went a day or two without shaving. It left him looking a little rough, a little bad boy, and sexy as all hell. I was the one who was always clean shaven, who always had creases in my pants and my hair combed back, and Matt was the free spirit who bounced around me like a moon in orbit. Actually, that wasn't quite apt, as it left him lesser than I, and we were equals. He was the yin to my yang.

"Justin thinks he's in love with me. I don't mean to say it like that, like he's just deluded, because I think maybe he really is in love with me, and not just having some crush. He cares about me, and it's not just something he says. I can tell that he does, I can tell in the way that he looks at me, and the way that he acts around me. I know it's been a really short time, just a week, like I told you, but he's definitely falling hard for me. I need to talk to you, needed to come out here, because I think I'm falling back."

That was it. I'd said it. In my mind, Matt was still here, still listening, and I felt like I should keep explaining, as if that would bring me some kind of an answer.

"When I look at him, I feel a little fluttery inside. It's not like I felt when I was with you, it's not that rug sliding out from under my feet, elevator dropping ten stories feeling that I used to get when you looked at me, but there's something there. I feel something for him, Matt, but I haven't let myself feel everything. It's only the past day or two that I've admitted to myself that I feel something, because I've been afraid to feel it all the way. I've been afraid to let any of it go, to really take the chance, because of you. I love you, Matt. I still love you. Every day when I wake up I still love you, and I still feel it all the time that you're not here, but I think, I want to see, I don't know. I think I could love Justin, too, someday. I think if I gave him a chance, that he and I could really have something, but I don't know if I can take that chance. I need to feel like it's ok to. I need to feel like it's all right, like this is what you would want."

I waited. In my mind he was still there on the bench, still listening to me expectantly, still smiling the same warm smile, but he said nothing.

"I still love you, but I want to try to love someone else, too. I want to see if there really could be something there for me and Justin, and even if there's not, I want to see if I could love somebody. I don't want to be alone. Even if you're still with me, I'm alone, too, and I don't want to live that way. I think, all the things you did to draw me out, after you did all of that, it's not right for me to pull back in. It's not right for me to go back into that same shell I was in when I met you. The reason this has been so hard for me is that Justin has made me see that's exactly what I've been doing. That's exactly what I've become, and everyone else is too polite to say so. I don't want to be that person, and I need to feel like this is ok with you, Matt. I love you, and I know that if you can you still love me, too. I'm not talking about letting you go. I'm not going to forget you, or what we had, or who you were, but I want to feel that way again, and I can't do that with you. I can't do that unless it's with someone else, and I want to think that you'd accept that, because I want to accept that, too."

I waited, thinking of Matt and thinking of Justin. They were so different, from such different places physically and mentally, but so similar, and I couldn't reconcile how I felt with either of them against the way I felt about the other. Matt and Justin were twisting together into a huge knot inside of me, and I needed to be sure of which cord to follow, which way to sort it out and untangle it.

"Justin wants me to go away with him for a while. He wants to take me down to where he lives, because he wants me around, but also because he kind of needs me. I think, in a way, I help Justin be independent, and that's something he wants very much right now. I'm not just going because of that, though, not just because he wants me to. I want to go. I want to go be with him, and be close to him, and see if there really can be anything deeper between he and I. I don't think I can do that here, Matt. If I'm going to clear myself out, clear my heart, then I need to clear my head, too, and I can't do that here. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I came here to say goodbye to you, for a little while. I came here to let you know that I'm going away, but I'll come back. I love you, baby, ok?"

If it had been a movie, there would have been a sign. The sun would have come out from behind a cloud, or there would have been a phantom touch on the side of my face. I would have heard a whisper of Matt's voice, or the flowers would have rustled, or something. There would have been some kind of sign, something I could put some faith in and know that Matt thought this would be all right, that this was ok, that wherever he was he heard me and understood. As I was, I opened my eyes, and I was there, on the bench, alone. Whatever I did, whatever I decided, I would have to do it myself, and make my own choices.

I straightened the flowers, rested my hand on the top of the stone for a minute as I silently bid Matthew a quiet goodbye, and then I walked back to my car. There was a second bundle of flowers on the seat, more roses, although these ones were a soft baby blue. I was pretty sure that it was an unnatural shade, although I wasn't certain, not being a florist, but all that mattered to me was that these were Justin's favorite color. It seemed odd to be picking up flowers for the dead boyfriend and the live boyfriend on the same trip, but I decided to try to stop thinking about stuff like that. Justin had said he was afraid of trying to compete with Matt, and I didn't want to start comparing the two of them in my mind, either, as impossible as that sounded.

When I walked into the store, Michelle was still behind the cafe counter, sitting on her stool reading something, probably nonfiction. There were only a few customers around, and Julie had left for the day, only being on the morning shift until just after lunch. Justin and Pete were up on the second level, talking about basketball while they rearranged some books, a chore that Pete seemed perpetually focused on. I nodded at Michelle, who started to stand when she saw me, and climbed the stairs to the second level quickly, carrying the bouquet. Justin and Pete paused to look at me, both smiling, although Justin's was broader, and he looked a little surprised, as if he'd been afraid that I wouldn't come back after all. I hugged him tightly, letting go quickly before anyone could see, and held out the flowers.

"These are for you," I said, smiling. Justin took them, burying his face in them for a second as he inhaled deeply, and when he looked back up at me, holding them tightly, his eyes were a little wet.

"I was, I thought," he began, swallowing thickly, his voice low. Pete stepped away, giving us a little privacy, although the notion seemed a little foolish since we were standing in the middle of a public space, right next to the railing. I caught people moving below out of the corner of my eye, but didn't want to look away from Justin. He needed me, and I put a hand on his arm.

"I know, Justin," I said, squeezing his shoulder. "I know what you thought. You don't have to say it. I wanted to tell you that I was, um, I went to say goodbye to Matt, for a while. I went to tell him about us, and to tell him what I was going to do. I'm going with you."

"You are?" Justin asked, smiling uncertainly, as if he was afraid he hadn't heard it correctly. Before I could answer, I heard another voice from below us, on the first floor.

"It's that easy for you?" April demanded, glaring up at us. She was the movement I'd seen before. I hadn't seen her when I came in, and I bounded up the stairs so quickly no one had time to warn me.

"April," I said, stepping away from Justin as I looked over the rail at her. She looked even more pissed than she had last night. Michelle stood right behind her, crossing her arms, and Pete stepped up behind Justin.

"She's been here all morning," Justin said quietly.

"Well?" April asked. "Is it really that easy for you to just, just throw Matt away? To just hop into bed with the next guy that comes along?"

"We need to talk," I said, walking toward the stairs. Justin followed me, still holding the flowers, as I walked down the stairs. I wasn't about to get bitched out by April in the middle of my own store.

"About what?" she asked, crossing her arms as I walked toward her.

"Do we have to do this here?" I asked. "Come upstairs, April, please."

"No," she said stubbornly. "I can't believe you're doing this. And you!"

Justin stepped back as she glared at him, and I stepped in between them.

"Knock it off," I said sharply. April inhaled, drawing in breath to say something else, and I cut her off. "Now. If you came here to talk to me, we'll talk, but not out here in the middle of the cafe. Justin, go up to the loft and put those in water. There are a couple old vases under the sink."

"April, I," Justin began, and I cut him off when I saw the look she threw him.

"Justin, go ahead," I said softly, turning to him. His eyes ticked back and forth between us. "It'll be ok."

He nodded, turning away, and I looked back at April. I knew she was angry at both of us, but I didn't want Justin to have to listen to her right now. He'd been upset enough by his mother, and Chris, and spending the morning thinking that I'd changed my mind and wasn't coming back. It wouldn't do him any good to hear some more of April yelling at him and accusing him of being a bad friend. As for April, well, this was like the scene with Chris yesterday all over again. I was getting really tired of people showing up at the store wanting to pick fights, and wondered if I should put a sign out front discouraging it. As I walked into the storeroom with April behind me I heard the door in the back close as Justin went upstairs.

"He has his own key?" April asked crossly.

"He has Matt's key," I answered, closing the door between us and the store. If Pete needed anything in here, he could wait.

"He has Matt's key, Matt's boyfriend, Matt's everything," April said. Instead of glaring at me, she looked like she was going to start crying. "How can you do this, Chris? How can you just, just."

"I didn't just do anything," I said, leaning back on the shelves. "I don't know what you think is going on here, but I haven't forgotten about your brother. I haven't just thrown him away for Justin. I still love Matthew, April."

"Then what are you doing?" she asked, leaning back as well. "I left you for a week, and you didn't even want to talk to him. Now I come back and you're, you know."

"We're together," I said bluntly. "I know you already assumed that, but yes, Justin is sleeping in my bed, and when we say we're a couple, we mean it in every way."

"How?" April asked. "Chris, I just, I don't understand. I don't understand any of this. You just told me that you still love Matt, and then you told me that you're sleeping with Justin. I don't understand how those can go together."

"April," I began, trying to find the words to explain it.

"What happened while I was gone?" she asked, walking toward me, her voice rising. "How could you do this?"

"Why do you keep asking me that?" I asked, feeling my temper start to slip a little. "What do you expect me to say?"

"I don't know," she answered, shaking her head. I could tell that this was causing her pain, but it wasn't like it was easy for me. "I just, when I left you barely wanted to talk to him, and now I come back and you're a couple, and I was only gone for a couple days. How could that happen? How could you just decide you don't love Matt anymore?"

I held my arms out to her, and she stepped into them, laying her head on my shoulder. I could tell that she wanted to cry, but was holding it in.

"I never said I don't love Matt anymore," I answered quietly. "I told you, I still love him. I just, I care about Justin, too."

"But this isn't right," April said. "He's my friend, and you're my friend."

"You don't want to see your friends happy?" I asked. "You'd rather that we were bitter and alone?"

"Nobody said," she began, and I cut her off.

"Nobody's wanted to," I said. "But you've all been dropping hints. You all talk about me not going out, and keeping to myself too much. And it's not just you. Michelle, Pete, Meg, Julie, everybody I know. Everyone thinks that I should start to move on. Isn't this, kind of, what everybody wanted?"

April stepped back, shrugging. We'd been through too much to stay mad at each other for very long.

"It just seems so fast," she said finally. "I mean, I wanted you to get out of your shell a little, but I didn't think, well, you barely know him at all."

"We've talked a lot," I said lamely. "We didn't just hop in bed."

"I know, but this is just so sudden," she said, her brown eyes staring into my green ones. "This isn't like you running out and getting a hobby. You're all the way in a relationship with Justin? What if you're not ready?"

"April," I began again, but she wasn't prepared to stop.

"No, I mean it," she said. "Every day for the past two years you've been mourning. Every day. Every time I talk to you, Matt comes up. It's almost like he's still here, and now your just suddenly ready to leave him, to leave everything, behind?"

"I'm not leaving him behind," I said. "I still love Matt. I just want to see if I can love Justin, too. He and I, we have this bond. We have feelings for each other, even if we just met, and I want to see if there's something there worth pursuing. He's a good person, April."

"You don't have to tell me Justin is a good person, Chris," she said, shaking her head. "I've known him longer than you have. I just, have you thought about this? Have you thought this all the way through?"

"It's all I've been doing all week, April," I said, shaking my head. "I know this is sudden, but I haven't been able to think about anything else."

"And you know about Justin and JC?" she asked. I nodded. "Chris, I know Justin says they're broken up right now, but I don't think he's ready for this, either. I've seen them together, and you haven't. I know what they're like, and what's between them, it's like being caught in a storm. When they're in the same room, it's like no one else exists. They only look at each other. That's why the two of them have taken over the whole band."

"Justin said they were always the leads," I said, wishing again that I knew more about Nsync. I needed to go out and pick up their albums, at the minimum. I'd heard some of their stuff on the radio, but if I was about to plunge into Justin's life, I needed to try to find a map of some kind.

"They were," April said, gesturing aimlessly with her hands. "But Justin completely owns the new album. People are talking about Justin maybe going solo, and 'Celebrity' will be his platform for that. You don't know this kind of stuff, but I do. The parts he didn't write, JC did, and the reason Justin has more is probably because JC gave it to him. JC loves Justin that much, enough to put his own career second. That's not something you can just get over in a week, Chris, not that kind of love."

"Chris said something like that, too," I said, crossing my arms. "The other Chris. He came yesterday to take Justin back to Florida with him. He said that Justin was on the rebound, and was forcing himself to feel something that maybe wasn't really there."

"Don't get mad," April began, pursing her mouth. "But I think you're doing the same thing. Maybe you and Justin do have some kind of connection, but I think that maybe you're pushing yourself to feel something, too. I think you're rebounding just as hard as he is, and I'm worried about both of you."

There wasn't really anything to say to that. I was sure, in my heart, that she was wrong. I wasn't just pushing myself to feel something for Justin. I wasn't forcing myself to feel something that wasn't there. I was honest when I said that I didn't love Justin, yet, but I wasn't trying to force myself to. I was just trying to figure out if there was something there, if there was something to pursue. Maybe it was moving a little quickly, but that didn't mean it wasn't right.

"April, I'm trying not to hurt him," I said, sighing. "And I don't think he's trying to hurt me, either. I know that Justin and I aren't like a perfect couple. We don't have much in common. I'm older than him, he's a millionaire, we barely know each other, he's grieving, I'm grieving, and most of our friends think this is a bad idea. It would be easier for us if, you know, if you could try to understand. I'm not asking you to like it, or even to accept it, but I don't want you mad at me, and I don't think Justin wants you mad at him, either."

April swallowed, pacing the floor.

"Chris, I don't know," she said finally. "I don't want you to be alone forever, and I guess, thinking about what you said last night, I don't think Matt would have wanted you to be, either. This is just going to be a little hard for me, ok? It's a little bit to get used to. I don't want to be mad at either one of you, though. If you guys want to try this, to try to make it between you two, I guess, well, I guess I want to try to be here for you. Just give me some time ok?"

"OK," I said, smiling. "Still my favorite almost sister?"

"Yeah," she answered, hugging me again. "And you'll always be my favorite almost brother."

We held onto each other for a minute. It wasn't exactly a ringing endorsement, but at least April wasn't going to be an obstacle.

"So what are you guys going to do now?" she asked, stepping away.

"We still have to talk to Chris," I said, shrugging again. "And then, well, Justin asked if I would go home with him, and I'm going to go. I'm not moving there or anything, and Michelle is going to watch the store for me. After that, I don't know. Could you do something for me, though?"

"What do you need?" she asked, waiting.

"Could you go upstairs and tell Justin you're not still mad at him?" I asked, smiling.

"Sure."

To be continued.