pt1: sixteen

The entire school had taken Oliver’s coming out in freshman year rather well. Travis assumed it was because they’d all heard about his fight the autumn eighth grade began. When summer began once more, Travis wondered if that was what it would be like their junior year too. 

Travis still hadn’t gotten over Zoe's death, but he was doing… better, to say the least. It helped knowing that that year the entire school, the entire town, existed under the oppressive weight of Zoe's death, just as he did.

Travis didn't see much of Oliver that summer. He didn't see much of Jacob either. Jacob was busy with Mikaela, and Oliver with Matt. Zoe would be the one with him everyday if she was still alive, but she wasn't. That fact hurt him. 

Sometimes Travis would call Oliver and convince him to let him hang out with Oliver and Matt, but it was always awkward, like a reunion with a friend that you haven't seen in years, except Matt and Travis were never friends. Matt no doubt knew about Travis's crush on Oliver; it's not like Travis was ever really that good at hiding it anyway. 

One such day Travis was sitting in the backseat of Matt's Crown Vic, some indie rock band playing on full volume. Matt was always silent when Travis was around. Travis wondered if Matt was like him, if he was silent with others and loud with Oliver and Oliver alone. Times like this made Travis think, ‘maybe we could've been friends,' but he knew it wasn't true, because he and Matt were far too similar and loved the same man far too much.

Travis wondered if Matt felt the same. “Travis, we gotta get you some better clothes,” Oliver was saying, snapping Travis out of his train of thought, and leaning into the back to stare at him with those big brown eyes of his. Travis frowned. “I like the clothes I have.” Matt laughed harshly. Oliver gave him a look, and turned back to Travis. 

“You're only saying that because Zoe bought those for you,” Matt bit out, and Travis felt a wash of emotion sweep over him. Tears came to his eyes, and he put a hand over his mouth, burying his face into his shoulder.

Oliver looked at Matt, and placed a hand on Travis's knee. “Matt you can't say that,” Oliver whispered, accent biting into his words, but it was pointless. 

Matt sighed, and looked at Travis in the rear-view mirror. “I'm sorry man.” 

Travis wiped his eyes, and ignored the look Oliver gave him. “It's okay,” he said, looking down at his clothes. “You're not wrong anyway.” Travis laughed. “I hated these when she bought them for me. They are pretty awful," he laughed, pulling at his shirt. "I think she just wanted me to dress like her," he whispered, head falling. Travis didn't miss the way they both looked at him, pity in their eyes, matching grim frowns on their faces.

Travis should've known better than to go shopping with fashionable Matt, and grungy Oliver. Instead of taking him to a mall like Zoe had, they dragged him to a thrift store in a neighboring city. Old rock was playing over the speakers, the scent of old people permeating the large space. Oliver and Matt agreed to meet back at the car before Oliver dragged Travis into the men's clothes section, leaving Matt to trail off wherever.

Oliver piled clothes into Travis's arms, after holding them up to Travis's shoulders and hips, before leading him to the checkout. Travis balked when he saw Oliver pulling his wallet out. “Oliver-”

Oliver raised a finger to Travis's mouth. “Shush,” he said, putting the cash down on the counter. “Thrift stores are cheap anyway.” He began helping the lady behind the checkout put the clothes into bags, humming as he did so.

Travis and Oliver waited for Matt at the car, Travis tapping his foot impatiently and Oliver rocking back and forth on his heels. When he came out, he had even more bags in his hands than Travis did. Travis spent the car ride back with those same bags on either side of him, indie rock playing just as loudly as before.

When they got back to Travis's house, Oliver shooed them in, with the command, “Do a fashion show for me," trailing after the two as they separated to their separate rooms to change. Travis groaned at the idea. He went through his bags and picked out the shirts that Oliver had said went with what pants, and the shirts that went over those shirts, and the belts that went over the pants.  

Travis wrinkled his nose at the large mound of flannels, band shirts, and baggy jeans with rips in the knees. When Travis paraded into the living room wearing outfit after outfit, Oliver applauded, and even Matt looked pleased. Travis hated it, but because Oliver liked the clothes, he decided to like them too, just like he'd done with the clothes from Zoe.

When Travis was done, he collapsed on the couch with Oliver, and waited for Matt's turn. Oliver kissed his head and said, “Thanks for entertainin’ me,” in Travis's ear before drawing away. Travis shuddered slightly, and waited patiently for Matt to walk out, burrowing into the couch to get closer to Oliver.

When Matt finally did, Travis's surprise wasn't lost on him. Matt walked out in a brown skirt that fell to his ankles, a white crop top falling off one shoulder. Travis had never seen Matt smile wider. Matt had never seen a boy with such awe in his eyes, as if he was just realizing that was an option. At that moment Matt decided he liked Travis, whether he was in love with Oliver or not. 

Matt continued to parade into the living room, outfits alternating between feminine and masculine and androgynous each time. Travis had never seen a guy so confident before. When it was time for Matt and Oliver to leave, Travis whispered, “You looked great,” when Matt walked by him. Travis didn't miss the smile Matt tried to hide, nor the one Oliver wore when he looked in between Matt and Travis. 

Oliver came over that night. 

“It was nice to see my two boys getting along,” he said, sitting on Travis's bed. 

“It was fun,” Travis shrugged, collapsing next to Oliver. Travis leaned back onto his bed, legs dangling off the edge. Oliver imitated him, and looked at Travis. 

“You need to get a haircut,” Oliver murmured, bringing a hand up to Travis's unevenly cut hair. Travis shuddered at the contact, and he felt his throat close at the familiar words. Travis began crying, hiding his face behind his forearm.

 “You know, that's something Zoe said she'd take me to do,” he said as he started quietly crying, trying to breath past the lump in his throat.

“I know,” Oliver murmured. “We can take you to Matt's dads barber shop if you want,” he whispered, removing his hand from Travis's hair. Travis scrubbed his hand over his face.

“I'd like that.” 

“Okay,” Oliver mouthed, smiling at Travis before sitting up. “We’ll come pick you up tomorrow.” 

Travis only nodded his head, and watched Oliver crawl out his window. 

That night Travis went into his mom’s room, and slept in her bed. That was the first time he'd done that since he was eleven, when his dad finally left after all the late night fights and storming out. His mom wrapped her arm around him, and listened to Travis quietly cry. 

When Travis woke up the bed was empty and his mom was gone. He wanted to cry again, so he did. 

When Oliver and Matt came to pick him up, Travis was already dressed in one of the outfits Oliver had bought for him. He saw Matt had done the same and was wearing the brown skirt and white crop top. That made Travis smile. 

Travis was quiet on the ride to the barber shop, and was quiet as Matt's dad trimmed his hair, telling Oliver embarrassing stories from Matt's youth. Travis laughed despite himself. When Travis was done, his hair had gone from a shaggy mess to a more or less stylish haircut. It was a mess nonetheless due to Travis's wild hair, but he felt like one of those lanky boys he saw standing around the park smoking. 

He kind of liked that feeling. Matt said bye to his dad, and Oliver and Travis gave him a polite, “Nice to meet you, sir” before walking out to Matt's car. Travis didn't miss the way that Matt's gaze had softened. 

When they dropped Travis off Matt said, “My dad likes you,” and that was acceptance enough for Travis. 

Travis didn't see either Matt or Oliver again that summer. 

So far Travis had gone most of his summer without seeing Jacob, and that would almost hurt, if he didn't remember the promise he had made last year. 

Travis knew when he was wanted too much, and wanted too little, so he didn't search out Jacob nor Oliver. 

Two weeks into his summer break, Travis got a job. It was at a local soft serve, an easy enough job. Travis liked serving the kids extra ice cream and watching the looks of annoyance cross over their parents faces. He also liked the way the kids smiled at him when he did. That part was nice too. Travis took a full time shift to burn time, and would often see couples walk by the store. 

He saw both Jacob and Oliver walk by more than once, their respective dates on their arms.

Jacob had been oddly distant after Zoe died, even with Travis putting space between them. Travis knew he had withdrawn from him, but in the spring when he was doing better, he'd tried getting close to Jacob again, just to be given the cold shoulder. Travis supposed he deserved it. 

Travis sighed, and leaned against the counter. 

Two weeks into his job Travis got his eyebrow pierced at the tattoo shop next door in exchange for part of his paycheck. He still hadn't talked to either of his friends. Travis's mom wasn't really surprised when Travis came home with a silver stud in his right eyebrow. It was almost like she'd been expecting it to happen sooner. 

She never said a word about the night Travis slept in her bed. Travis wondered if he got his ability to ignore things from his mother, if he was considered cold and distant because he and his mother were far too similar

Travis hoped she looked at him and saw herself.

Travis didn't see Oliver until school started. He came to school on the first day, made eye contact with Travis, and made his way to stand next to Travis. They said nothing, as if nothing had even happened, and made their way to their classes. Travis ignored the small bulge on Oliver's stomach that he'd tried to hide by wearing a more oversized shirt than normal.

Travis really must’ve picked up his habit of ignoring things from his mother. 

At lunch that day, the "weird" kids came up to him asking for his cell number. They looked disappointed when he said he didn't have one, but perked up when he gave them his home phone number instead. Travis had never seen the point of getting a phone. It wasn't like he had anyone to call or text, but he loved the looks of joy that crossed over their painted faces.

After that, those same kids started visiting Travis at work. They never once tried to bum food or extra toppings off of him. That made them okay in Travis's book. 

Two weeks into the new school year Travis got a call from Oliver. “I need you to come over,” Oliver said, sounding like he'd been crying. Travis made his way to Oliver's house immediately. 

That day, Travis walked into Oliver's house for the first time.

 “My dads asleep,” Oliver whispered, opening the door to the entryway, placing a protective hand over his stomach.

Travis's eyes flicked to the movement. “Okay,” he mouthed, slipping off his beaten up Converse, and carrying them upstairs with him. Travis noted the family photos hung on the walls, the dirt embedded in the carpet of the stairs and the scent surrounding him that was reminiscent of a better time.

When they got into Oliver's room Oliver began crying. “What's wrong?” Travis murmured, hugging Oliver to his chest, running his hand up and down Oliver's back.

Travis was struck with how much he'd grown over the years. When Oliver had come back when they were fourteen, Oliver was taller than Travis. Travis looked down on Oliver, his broader frame huddled into Travis's thin chest, and he felt a warmth spreading throughout his body. Oliver barely reached up to the neckline of Travis's shirt. Travis wished they could stay hugging like this forever. 

“You’re so tall,” Oliver began to sob, accent lost in his sobs. 

“Yeah,” Travis whispered, feeling his throat swell as well. 

Oliver lifted his face from Travis's chest, just enough to murmur, “'M pregnant.” 

“What?” 

Oliver pulled away. “I said I'm pregnant,” he sobbed, looking up at Travis, tears in his eyes. 

“I know,” Travis murmured. “I was waiting for you to tell me.” 

This caused Oliver to wail all the more.  

Travis led Oliver to the bed in the middle of the room, and sat with his back against the headboard. Oliver sat in between his spread legs, and Travis wrapped his arms around Oliver's waist. “How long?” Travis said into Oliver's neck.

“We figure it was conceived around the beginning of June,” Oliver said, voice thick, accent slurring the words slightly. Travis took a moment to think. “So it's the second trimester now?” Travis asked, lifting a hand to card it through Oliver's hair. 

“I guess,” Oliver returned. “I ‘aven’t told m’ dad yet.” 

“You probably should. Does Matt know?” 

Oliver nodded yes and began crying again, covering his face with a hand, the other moving to hover over his rounded stomach.

“Did-” Travis hesitated, “did he leave you for it?” 

“Yes,” Oliver wailed again, covering his mouth with his forearm. “That cunt didn't use a condom n’ now my life is wrecked n’ he won’t even help!” Oliver cried. 

“I know, I know,” Travis murmured, running his hand over Oliver's shaven head, and curling his fingers loosely around Oliver's wrist.

Travis waited until Oliver had calmed down to speak again. “Are you gonna get an abortion?”

“Iont think so,” Oliver cried. “I don't think I could.” 

Travis sighed. 

“I know what you're thinkin’,” Oliver said, looking back at Travis. “You're thinkin’ it’s stupid of me to not get it aborted.” 

Travis shook his head. “That's not what I'm thinking, Oliver. I'm thinking it's your choice, and if you decide not to, I’ll help. I'll be there no matter what your choice is.” 

Oliver started crying again. 

Oliver didn't speak again until he’d stopped crying again. “I really do wish I could love you like you do me.”

“You say this all the time,” Travis laughed. 

“Well it’s true.”

“I want you to stop saying it.”

“Why?”

“Because it's time we both accept you don't, and we move past it. God knows I've been trying,” Travis whispers, tossing his head back until it hits the headboard. 

Oliver was silent for a moment. “I wish you'd been Matt,” he said so quietly, Travis almost didn't hear him, 

“Well, I wasn't.”

“Are you upset you weren't?” 

Travis shook his head. “No. I think it was your choice to date him, and it's too late to wish it was me.” 

Oliver laughed. “So you’re sayin’ is my fault are ya?” 

Travis laughed as well. “I respect your decision of who you date, but do you want me to be honest?” 

“Yeah,” Oliver chuckled. 

“I do wish it'd been me,” he whispered into the back of Oliver's neck. 

Oliver barked out a laugh. “I knew it.” 

Travis smiled. 

“Y’know, you’re the closest I've ever gotten to actually loving someone.”

“Didn’t you love Matt?”

“I thought I did. But then he went n’ left me ‘cause he didn’t pull out fast enough.”

“He's a c**t.”

“I couldn’t ‘ave said it better.”

Travis started talking to Oliver at school after that. 

They would sit for lunch with Travis's new friends some days, where Travis would get music recommendations and records and mix-tapes they found in their grandma's basements, and Oliver would praise Travis for making more friends and tell them stories. 

Other days, they would sit together alone, and let the other students spread rumors about them. No matter where they sat, Travis always noticed Jacob looking at them from across the cafeteria. 

He never once came to say hi to Travis.

With Oliver's pregnancy, it was now Travis's job to go visit Oliver. Travis became very experienced at climbing into windows.  

“Do you think if our life was a rom-com people would think I'm a b***h?” Oliver asked, looking up at Travis from where he leaned against him. 

“Maybe. They’d have to be f*****g idiots though."

“How's that?”

“Because our life isn’t a rom-com.”

“Then what is our life?”

“I dunno,” Travis shrugged. “Maybe a found family drama.”

“Why a found family?” Oliver laughed. 

“You love me like a brother, don’t you?”

“Well yea, but-“

“What about our lives is 'romantic' or 'funny'?" Travis emphasized his words by making quotation marks with his fingers, chuckling humorlessly.

Oliver was silent for a moment. “I think our life would be some obscure indie film.”

“I think that’d be nice."

“Maybe I should write a movie one day about our lives, and make it an obscure indie film.”

“if you did write a movie, it’d be a cult classic.”

“How's that?”

“Because, you see the world through a different lens, and everyone else will want to see that.”

“Would you watch it?”

“Maybe.”

Travis was silent for a moment. “I'm too selfish to be a rom-com nice guy.” 

Oliver laughed. “Everyone’s selfish, that's what makes us human!” 

Travis shook his head. “You're jus’ saying that because that's what you want me to be. I'm not a nice guy.” 

“Whatever,” Oliver scoffed. 

That December Travis bought a car with the money from his job.

Oliver was eight months pregnant. His due date was set for January. Travis had gone to every Obgyn appointment with Oliver and his father. Travis had even helped Oliver tell his dad that Oliver was pregnant. Travis would never quite understand how Oliver's dad had changed so much since that time they met when he was 13, going from an angry drunkard of a man to a subdued father.

Oliver absolutely refused to know the sex of the baby until it was born. 

January 22nd, Oliver Adams gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, that he then named Jude. 

Oliver didn't go back to school until February. 

One night, after Oliver had started school again, Travis was sitting in Oliver's room, holding Jude close to him and cooing Brandy, You're a Fine Girl softly. Travis loved Jude completely and utterly, loved his quiet cries and soft smiles.

“I think you’re the only actual nice guy around,” Oliver started, looking up from his trig homework, interrupting Travis's quiet recitation.

“Not this again,” Travis groaned, eliciting a laugh from Oliver. “I don't see why you’re so set on this ‘I’m a nice guy’ thing.” Travis looked down at Jude fondly, before setting him on Oliver's bed.

“‘Cause you are, whether you wanna be or not.”

“Just like how you're doing trig at four AM?”

“Exactly.”

“Or like how I'm stuck taking care of your angel of a son instead of doing my own homework?”

"Exactly.” Oliver hesitated for a moment, then repeated the same words as he had when Travis confessed, trying to make them as joking as possible. "Are you hurt?" He laughed, setting his pencil on his desk to spin around in his chair.

“A little, but mostly because this brat of yours is biting my tit.”

They both laughed. 

“I do love you,” Oliver said after a minute. 

“I know.”

“I think someday I could love you like that.”

“If you do, I'll be waiting.”

“I really hope you move on, in case that day never comes.”

“I've been tryin' since we were fourteen. It hasn't worked out well.”

“Why? Why are you stuck on me?”

“Because it’s you. Because it’ll always be you.”

“Maybe you jus’ need t’ meet the right girl.”

“Or guy.”

“Or guy.”

Travis picked up Jude, rocking him slowly. “That 'meets the right girl' crap is the same kind of stuff people spew at gay people.” 

Oliver looked at the two of them. “I know. But I think maybe for you, it’s true.”

“It’s not. It’ll always be you, and only you.”

Oliver hesitated. “’M sorry.”

“What for?”

“For everything,” he laughs dryly, throwing his hands up.

“It's OK. You can’t help it. I can't help it. If there’s anything humans can’t do in this world, it’s help.”

Oliver was silent for a moment. “Sixteen is a terrible time to be in love.”

“Sixteen is a terrible time to be a single parent because your boyfriend left you.”

They both laughed, throwing their heads back, leaving Jude to look up in infantile awe at the rare joy on Travis's face.

“Sixteen is a terrible time to exist at all,” Oliver continued. 

“I think it’s a little bit better than when we were fourteen,” Travis chuckled. 

“I think you might be right.”

“Of course I am.”

On June 14th, Travis's birthday, Oliver and Jude were gone. All that was left of them was a note left on Travis's desk, and all that was on that note was the words, “I’m sorry,” followed by a phone number. 

That was the worst birthday Travis had ever had since his dad left.