pt2: fifteen

Cw for mentions of sex between two minors. Nothing actually graphic this time but still worth the warning. 

Jacob and Travis were sitting at a picnic table. It was still summer, and the air was sticky and moist, like when melted Popsicle runs down your arm and the sugar seeps into your skin. Jacob sat next to Travis, resisting the urge to lean on him. 

“How do you still like Olivia- Oliver?” he asked, glancing at Travis. He began fiddling with the hem of his shirt, fingers caught on some loose threads. 

“I dunno.” Travis replied. Jacob felt the bench sway slightly, but he didn't look up. Travis started tapping his fingers on his backpack. Jacob hated it when he did that, not that he was much better.

Travis continued. “You love Mikaela right?” 

Jacob looked up, and thought for a minute. It didn't take long; the only things he had to think about were lying or telling the truth. “I guess,” he replied, settling for neither. He put his hand over Travis's, and sighed when Travis bounced his knee instead. Jacob held Travis's knee down, and chuckled when Travis lightly swatted at him. 

“Stop that,” Travis sneered, face twisted into a frown. 

 “Sorry. What's your point?” 

Travis looked at where Jacob's hand was still on his knee. “If she transitioned into a guy, you’d still love her, right?” 

Jacob moved his hand, and returned his fingers to the hem of his shirt. “Maybe, I dunno. Dating a guy would be weird.” 

“OK, instead think of it like this. She's still the same person you fell in love with, she's just changed her name and pronouns and maybe the way she's dressed, right?” 

“Okay,” Jacob glances up at Travis, briefly wondering where he was going with this.

Travis muttered something under his breath that Jacob couldn't quite hear, but he knew Travis well enough to know what he was saying. 

He laughed. “I heard that.” Jacob shrugged again, and didn't look up. “I think if Mikaela was trans I’d still love her, but not in the same way I did before.” Jacob didn't love Mikaela as is, but he didn't tell Travis this. Jacob spared Travis a glance, and looked away. He wondered if Travis noticed. He probably did. “I think I'd stay with her, and I might even love her more for it.” 

“Exactly.” 

Jacob looked up at Travis again, and prayed his face didn't say too much. 

“OK, so imagine this, instead of Mikaela, it's Oliver. I’ve been in love with him since I was thirteen, talked to him every night for almost a year, and still love him.” 

Jacob nodded slowly. “Okay,” he replied, drawing out the word.

“You’ve dated Mikaela for just a couple months, been in love with her for even less, and you would still date with her if she came out as trans, right?” 

Jacob nodded slowly again, and hoped Travis couldn't tell that he was partly lying. “Yeah.” Jacob returned his gaze to his lap. “Oh."

 “Yeah.” Jacob felt the table move again, and listened to Travis's clothes rustling so close to his ear. 

Jacob looked over his shoulder, squinting against the sun. “So are you like bi or somethin’?” 

“I dunno. I jus’ love Oliver no matter what, no matter who he is.” 

“Hmmm,” was all Jacob said. He did not like the sick feeling in his stomach at Travis's little speech.

He leaned back on the table, and tilted his head to look at Travis. He looked at the way the sunlight reflected off Travis's nose, the profile of his lips against the greenery of the park, how his longish hair fell around his face. 

“I think… if Mikaela did come out, id have to break up with her.” Jacob wasn't lying about this.“I’d like to date her still, if she did." He wasn't about this either, only covering a truth whispered in the back of his mind. “But I can't,” he concluded, sighing deeply.

He was not lying about that either.

Jacob stayed silent for a moment, brows furrowed, then picked up a lock of Travis's hair, twisting it gently.“You need to get a haircut.” He dropped Travis's hair, and looked at how it rested on Travis's shoulder before it fell. 

“Mom stopped cutting it for me. Said, ‘Travis, if you can sneak a kid up to your room at midnight you can cut your own damn hair’.”

Jacob laughed, and closed his eyes. “Now I'm kinda jealous.” 

Travis sat up, glancing at the blond. “Why's that?” 

Jacob followed him up, and once again resisted the urge to lean on him. “You’ve never snuck me up into your room at midnight.” 

Travis narrowed his eyes and shoved Jacob. “I don't need t’. You always invite yourself in.” 

Jacob shoved Travis back, and laughed, “You’re right about that.” 

Jacob was silent for a moment. “I want you to hang out with me and some friends Saturday.” 

Travis’s head snapped to look at him. “Why.” he seethed. 

Jacob narrowed his eyes, and threw his arm over Travis's shoulder. “Because. I can't let you rot your summer away talking to two people.” 

“You know I don't like your friends!” 

“Do I care? No I do not.”

That night, Jacob lay in bed listening to a Smashing Pumpkins tape. Some part of him dreaded having Travis around Mikaela, her and her giggling fake blonde friends. 

Jacob really did grow to regret forcing Travis to hang out with him that Saturday. That summer, it went from Jacob only sharing Travis with Oliver, to Zoe too. Jacob couldn't find it within himself to hate Zoe though. She was kind, and sweet, and Travis hung out with more of Jacob's and Mikaela’s friends because of her. 

He couldn't find it within himself to hate a dead girl. He could find it in himself to hate Oliver, though. Any time he went to visit Travis, he found Oliver already there, already comforting Travis. Some part of Jacob wanted to shout, “that's my job,” but his fathers voice immediately quieted him. 

That Sunday, the priest at Jacob's church made his sermon about death, and prayed that Zoe was saved so she would get into Heaven. Jacob didn't know if she was Christian, but he did know that if anyone deserved to go to Heaven, it was her. 

Jacob prayed to God that Sunday, asking him to let Zoe in. 

When Jacob was in confession, he confessed the sin of jealousy. He didn't mention the cause of that jealousy. He didn't mention that with that jealousy came hate, and with the hate, disgust.

Jacob's dad, his mom also, didn't say a word about the service. 

One day, Travis called Jacob. He was crying when he did, begging Jacob to come over. Jacob called Mikaela and made her come over with him. He couldn't be around Travis alone right now. Jacob ignored the spike of jealousy that laced through him when he saw them hugging. He told himself it was because of Mikaela. 

He knew it wasn't because of Mikaela. 

The start of their freshman year, Jacob and Travis were divided. In the bustle of high school life, they saw each other even less. While Jacob tried out for the basketball team (and got in, of course he did), Travis did god knew what. Jacob knew he probably hid out in the library in his free time. 

Mid September, Travis abruptly decided to live with Jacob for a week. Travis never told him why, nor did Jacob ask. Travis’s mom never once came knocking looking for Travis. Travis never told him why all of a sudden, he was sleeping on the floor of Jacob's room, praying Jacob's dad didn't come home. 

Jacob's mom took care of Travis. She made sure he woke up on time, that he ate. She would pet his hair while they sat on the couch after dinner, softly reading a book out to him. Travis was still there when Jacob's dad came home Sunday. 

Jacob was awake when his dad cracked the door open, while he was looking down at a sleeping Travis, Walkman headphones down around his neck to wordlessly count Travis's sleeping breaths. Jacob met his fathers glare, eyebrow raised. Jacob ignored him after a moment, and slipped his Walkman headphones back on. “He can't stay here,” his dad said, but his voice was muffled. His eyes narrowed in warning at Jacob's indifference, but said nothing. 

When his dad closed the door, Jacob smirked. He pulled his copy of I Am Legend off his nightstand, and was almost done with the book when Travis woke up. “Y’know dads gonna make us go to church, right?” Jacob asked, dog-earing the page and putting it back on his nightstand. 

Travis sighed, and fell back on his pallet of blankets. “I need coffee,” he muttered, standing up. He hiked Jacob's pair of pajama pants further up onto his hips, and adjusted the shoulder of Jacob’s shirt.

Jacob felt a weird twisting in his gut from seeing Travis like this, seeing his clothes sliding off Travis's slimmer frame, the pale skin exposed by those same clothes making Jacob physically hurt. Jacob swallowed heavily, and watched Travis trudge out of his room with wide, �"scared�" eyes. 

He sighed, and dropped his head back onto his pillow. Jacob waited for a minute to wait for that weird feeling to fade, and got out of bed. 

When Jacob sidled into the kitchen, Travis was sitting awkwardly at the dining table, mug of coffee in his hands. Jacob sat next to him, and sent a pointed glance at his dad. His dad glanced between the two of them, and returned his glare to Travis. Travis hunched his shoulders, and Jacob resisted the urge to put his hand on Travis's knee. 

“Are you goin’ to church with us Travis?” Jacob’s mom asked, setting a plate of food in front of Jacob's dad. 

Travis glanced at Jacob. “Yes, Missus Lewinsky," Travis murmured, looking down at his cup. 

“Wonderful,” she said with a smile. She knew enough by now to know that Travis didn't eat breakfast, so she didn't bother serving him. Jacob's dad didn't like that much. He didn’t say anything, but Jacob knew when he didn't like something. 

Travis looked awkward, sitting in Jacob's spare dress shirt, long hair hastily pulled into a half-ponytail, a hymnal hanging from his hands. Jacob sighed, and propped his hymnal up on his and Travis's knee to share. Jacob relished the way their legs were pressed together, how he had the excuse to lean over Travis, just to trail his finger down the hymnal. 

Jacob could feel his dad looking at them, and Jacob glanced down at the hymnal and back up at him. He raised an eyebrow, as if challenging his father. Younger Jacob never would’ve done this. Jacob wasn't younger, and he did it now. 

Travis went home immediately after the sermon. Jacob didn’t even get his dress shirt back. 

After Travis left, Jacob wasn't sure what to confess. He told the priest this. Jacob was silent for a moment. “I think… I think I might like to confess the sin of lust.” The priest was silent. He was always silent. “But not normal lust,” Jacob added. “For my friend.” Jacob pulled his cross and mothers ring out of his shirt, items clanging on the thin chain they hung from. “You can't do or say anything about what I confess, right?” 

Jacob watched the priest nod his head through the screen of the confessional. “I think I might like to confess the sin of homosexuality.” The priest remained silent. Jacob knew the priest knew a thing or two about homosexuality. 

Jacob was silent for a moment more. “That's all I have to confess.” 

The priest was arrested in the middle of the week. The congregation didn't stop talking about it, about the bruises Mrs. Johnson found on her son, the same bruises found on all the altar boys. 

Jacob didn't talk to Travis in school again. He was withdrawn, choosing to sit in a corner or outside during lunch, ignoring Jacob in whatever shared classes they had. Jacob wished he was sitting with Travis rather than the basketball team and the cheerleaders. He felt like the embodiment of every teen stereotype. 

Jacob did not reach out. He chose to keep the distance, to pray whatever it was that made his skin crawl when he saw Travis, when he touched him ever so lightly, would disappear, and take whatever wrong connection there was between them with it.

Jacob didn't think about what he had confessed to the priest again. He buried it within him, and when they got a new priest, said nothing. His first confession to the new priest was the sin of lying. When the priest asked him what he lied about, Jacob was silent. With the other priest, at least he never talked, even if Jacob was ready to fight him anytime the priest turned his gaze on him. 

The new priest never learned to stop with his questions. 

Jacob missed Travis so bad it hurt. He saw him at school, and occasionally around town, but they never talked. He wanted to, but he knew what he must do, and so he kept to his set path.

For Jacob's birthday, his mom gifted him a phone. It was a flip phone, a cheap little thing, but a phone nonetheless. His dad wasn't home for that birthday either. Neither was Blaine. Jacob got gifts from Mikaela that year, rather than Travis. 

She’d handed him a bag with a broad smile. Jacob took the bag, and his eyes went to her hair as she talked. He looked at the subtle way her roots were growing out, displaying her natural color. She snapped him out of his thoughts with a, “Jacob! Are you listening to me?” 

He chuckled and said, “Sorry, what were you saying?” 

She frowned. “I was saying that my parents invited you to dinner at my place.” 

Jacob balked, feeling the blood drain from his face. “Really?” 

Mikaela laughed, and poked the bag he held in his arms. “What did you think the clothes were for, silly?” 

Jacob looked down at the bag, and back up at her hesitantly. He raised an eyebrow, and she smiled, perfect white teeth catching the light. 

Jacob sat through that dinner awkwardly, doing his best to make small talk with Mikaela’s parents and younger sister. He bounced his leg through the entire meal, and Mikaela eventually put her hand on his leg. It didn't still, nor comfort him like when Travis did the same. 

When the dinner was over, Mikaela’s parents escorted her younger sister out with a wink, and the words, “Amanda has her ballet recital.” Jacob didn’t like where this was going. 

Mikaela led him up to her room, where he sat awkwardly on her bed. She didn't sit, instead she slipped her shirt off, and let it fall to the floor. Jacob swallowed heavily. She took off her bra next. 

If this were a movie, the camera would pan to Mikaela’s bare back, and the screen would fade out, before showing a scene of the two of them lying in bed. 

This wasn't a movie, and Jacob couldn't pretend like she wasn't standing in front of him, half naked and skin beginning to gooseflesh from the cold. He couldn't close his eyes, and wake up to the two of them lying together. 

Jacob couldn't not do this, so he played the part of a dutiful boyfriend, sliding his clothes off and kissing Mikaela until she was tired of it.

When Jacob lay over her, a part of him imagined she was a boy. He wasn't quite sure what the boy looked like. Maybe he was a brunet. Maybe he had the most beautiful gray eyes. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

When the deed was done, he tried not to think about why he'd done that. 

Jacob lost his virginity to Mikaela that day, praying he would open his eyes and she was a boy under him. 

In church next Sunday, he confessed to lust. This was one of many times he confessed this sin. This was the only time he confessed it with Mikaela in mind. 

The priest tried asking if he had anything else to confess, and Jacob only sat there. “I don't like it when you do that. When you try to get more than what I have to give." That was all he said before he walked out of the confessional.