I hear him before I see him. The sound of his voice sends a shiver through me. He’s talking to and looking at Michelle as they approach. Apparently, there’s been an offer on a piece and the price is being negotiated. Tyson gives Michelle her final instructions and she departs. Tyson is still smiling as he turns my way. Then he sees me and his smile evaporates.

I thought that maybe there was a millisecond of a flash of surprise and joy. If there was, he stomped it out immediately. Once upon a time, seeing me made him light up. And if seeing me was ever a surprise, he would almost explode in overwhelming childlike glee. Up until our last day together, that was the effect I seemed to have on him. Seeing his reaction now…I want to cry.

“Hi,” I say dumbly.

He sits across from me, “Twelve fucking years.”

“I want you to know,” I say, “that you have loyal followers. Neither of them betrayed you. They stuck to the program and they wouldn’t give you up.”

“When I found out you were coming home, I knew this day would come. Not so soon, necessarily, but eventually.”

It feels like I’m dreaming. “Again, neither of them betrayed you. Be mad at me, not Miranda or Connor.”

He eyes me hard. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t see my sister anymore and I haven’t known a Connor since high school.”

I sigh, “It doesn’t have to be like this. I’m not your enemy.”

“And I’m not your friend.”

That knocks me back like a punch in the face.

He sees my reaction and softens just a bit. His hand moves one inch towards mine, but stops. “That’s not how I meant that to sound.”

I blink back the sting of tears and clear my throat. “Maybe I should just say what I need to say.”

“Good idea.”

“All this time, I never understood why you did it. You broke my heart, then disappeared. It fucked me up. I couldn’t figure out what I did wrong. Especially since everything seemed so right.”

A barista swings by our table and “Mr. Norton” asks for two bottles of water.

“But I’ve learned some things over the last couple months. I discovered that there’s a gap in my memory — one full day. That day is January 15th, twelve years ago. That happens to be the day that Kevin Johnson slipped on the ice and cracked his skull.” I can deliver blows too.

Tyson rocks back. “There’s a blast from the past.”

“This is no coincidence. Something happened on January 15th involving Kevin Johnson. Something that culminated in him being dead, me repressing the memory and you disappearing to protect me from it.”

His eyes turn cold again. Those piercing blue eyes. His hair is still blond, but a darker blond than when he was a teenager. He didn’t shrink or grow; he’s still got six inches on me and he’s still built like an athlete. He has a few thin lines around his eyes and mouth that didn’t used to be there, but he’s still the best-looking guy in most rooms. I desperately want to touch him, make sure he’s real.

He warns me, “You should leave this alone.”

“Tyson, at this point, not knowing is taking a bigger toll on me than facing the truth ever would…no matter how horrible that truth may be.”

Our waters come and Tyson says nothing. He stares at the table.

“Yesterday, Miranda told me to remember the Tyson from before you sent me that email that ruined — altered — my life. She asked me if I trusted that Tyson. I said that of course I did and she told me to think of that Tyson now. Well, I’m asking you to do the same thing. Okay, you’re not my friend or my enemy. Maybe you don’t love me anymore, but I can’t believe that you hate me either. Or maybe you just don’t give a shit about me either way, but please. For the old us. You can trust me. I know it must have been bad. You obviously called Connor for help and you didn’t even have an active relationship with him at the time.”

“I don’t have an active relationship with him now.”

When is he gonna give up the pretense? An idea hits me. I put on a big smile and say, “You know, Connor’s son Cody is such a great kid.”

And there it is. The tell I was looking for. Tyson smiles. He catches himself, but it’s too late. He knows I saw it. I point at him, “It’s time to drop the act. I saw Connor and his family last week. I met Cody. I know how awesome he is. And I guessed you knew that too. You’d have to be a completely heartless asshole to know Cody, hear his name and not break out into a huge grin. And that’s what you just did. You know that kid. You love that kid. He probably calls you Uncle Tyson.”

He knows I caught him. “Fuck.”

“Don’t you see? I know how great Connor turned out. His family, his house…everything. I saw firsthand what an amazing dad he is. Do you think I want to bring any trouble into his life? Or my own? Or yours? We’re the good guys.” I twist the cap off and take a long pull on my water. “Look at this place. You’re doing amazing things. Helping artists who’ve run out of options, volunteering with challenged kids on the weekends. You’re trying to come off as an asshole ankara travesti as I’m talking to you, but I see the truth. You’re the same generous, talented man you were when we were eighteen.”

He softens again, “What do you want me to say?”

“Tell me the whole story. Everything. I need my memories. Good and bad. They’re part of who I am. I’m thirty now. I don’t need to be protected anymore.” I shift in my chair, “Please. In our short eight months together, I never asked you for anything. You gave a lot, but I never asked. I’m asking now. For the old us. What happened?”

He lets his shoulders drop an inch and looks around us. “Not out here.” He picks up his water bottle, “Follow me.”

~~

He leads me to the door Michelle disappeared through earlier. We’re now in the supply room and he takes us to an office in the corner. He puts a hand on my shoulder and it’s our first touch in 12 years. His hand almost burns my skin through my shirt. He feels it too. I see it on his face. He indicates a chair and closes the door behind us.

His office is the kind of office someone has because he needs one, rather than wants one. The office of a person who’d rather be out on the floor talking to artists and customers than sitting behind a desk at the computer. It’s small, it’s cluttered and it’s undecorated, save for a few photographs. There’s one of his parents, one of Miranda, one of Connor’s whole family and one of just Tyson and Cody. Despite the fact that Tyson is kneeling, he’s still a few inches taller than Cody. They have one arm hooked around each other and their other arms pin basketballs against their hips. They also have the biggest, stupidest, happiest grins on their faces.

I point to it and say, “That’s my new favorite picture, of all the pictures in the world. Do you have a digital version? Can you send it to me?” I take out my phone and show Tyson the shot I took that Layne loved so much.

He smiles, “Is that Matthew Barnes?”

“Yeah. I’m rooming with him for a while. My number hasn’t changed, do you-“

“I’ve still got you.” He texts his picture first so I can reply.

Looking at the photo I say, “I’m really glad you have these awesome people in your life.”

“Pearson, you are too… How did you know he calls me Uncle Tyson?”

“Come on. If I were Connor, I’d want you to be an uncle to my kids.”

He takes a moment to wipe a tear from his eye. He says, “You said some very nice things, but you’re no slouch yourself. You’ve accomplished amazing things. Yes, I’ve stalked you anonymously on social media.” He runs a hand through his hair, “And now you’re gonna rock teaching. So awesome. Things have really worked out for you. Why poke at the sleeping past?”

Have they worked out though? I don’t reply to his question. Instead, I say, “Happy birthday.”

He looks confused for a moment, then slow realization settles in as a smile begins to form. “I haven’t thought about my half-birthday since the one I spent with you 12 years ago. I can’t believe you remember that.”

I swallow a lump in my throat, “I remember a lot. I want to remember everything.”

He sighs, “How do I know you can handle it? If I tell you what you think you want to hear?”

I sigh back, “I’m already imagining the worst. Look, I have people looking out for me, and right now, I have you.” I instinctively move my hand toward his, but like he did earlier, I stop short. “I’ve been stuck in neutral for over a decade. I need answers to be able to live my life.”

He says, “I’ll tell you about that day, but you have to promise to tell me if you need me to stop.”

I nod and Tyson Courtland takes me back in time.

~~

He takes in a deep breath. “We were eighteen and we wanted to be together. We were together, but we wanted to be together. All first semester we made a point to see each other every weekend, but we were both freshman, which meant we both had roommates. Private alone time was hard to come by. We were home for holiday break and hoping to…we were eighteen. Anyway, between my parents and my sister and your parents and your brothers, our houses were never empty. So, we planned to get a hotel room the day before you had to head back.”

So far, he hasn’t said anything I didn’t already know. “I remember that. Or, I remember planning it. I don’t remember it happening.”

“The day came. We went to Portillo’s for dinner. That was my pick, of course. There was nothing comparable in Boston, but you were okay with it because there were plenty of salads to choose from. We sat there at a table in the crowded dining room, eating our food, excited for the night we’d planned when you noticed that Kevin and Ricky were at a table on the other side of the restaurant. We hadn’t seen those assholes since the bonfire eight months earlier.” Tyson covers the bridge of his nose with steepled fingers.

“So, we just ignored them. We completely acted like they weren’t even there. We finished our meal and got in my car. I was still driving that huge, obnoxious, red Lincoln ankara travestileri Navigator at the time. We wanted a discreet evening. A few quiet hours together. That car was the opposite of discreet and quiet and half the town knew it was mine. So, we got to the hotel and we parked around back, on the far side of a large dumpster, to keep my beacon of a car out sight from everyone driving by on Main Street.”

I can see him reliving the feeling of the moment as he recounts these long-ago events. “We were young and in love, but we didn’t want to advertise it. I was eighteen, but I could have passed for twenty-one. Actually, according to my fake ID, I was twenty-two.” He smiles at the memory. “But you? You were eighteen going on sixteen. I don’t mean in maturity or intellectually, but come on. You were baby-faced. Adorable, but baby-faced. Even today, I know you’re thirty…you look…” he eyes me, “not thirty.” He clears his throat and averts his gaze. “If you stood next to Josh and asked random strangers to pick out the older brother, it would probably be a fifty-fifty tie.”

He meets my eye again, “Anyway, you looked like a minor. You didn’t want to go into the lobby with me to check in, so you waited in the car. I was supposed to text you our room number. The problem was, I never made it inside. I was rounding the back corner when I was jumped by Kevin and Ricky, who had apparently followed us there from Portillo’s. It was two against one and they had no problem overpowering me this time. They dragged me back to the rear lot and tied me to a lamp post with my hands behind my back. They had fucking zip ties. Can you believe that?”

That’s what the article said.

“So, there I am, tied up and Kevin takes the first punch. Right in the stomach. With my hands bound, all I could do was take the hit. Even though I braced for it, it was a powerful blow, leaving me dizzy and close to puking. That bastard was even bigger than he was under the bleachers. He tells Ricky to take a shot, but suddenly, Ricky wants out. I don’t know why. Maybe he was a reluctant participant in the first place. Maybe he grew a slight conscience. Maybe he thought Kevin was going to actually kill me this time. He told Kevin to let me go. Begged him to just walk away. Kevin turned on him and started calling him all the same homophobic slurs he’d been calling me up to that point.”

I’m concentrating on the story as Tyson tells it. There’s still no trigger, but I’m riveted. I want to know what happens next.

“So, Ricky, scared shitless, leaves. I guess they had met at Portillo’s and followed us to the hotel in their separate cars, because Ricky just drives away. Their little conflict took some time though. It took enough time that you must have started wondering what was taking me so long. Just as Kevin was turning his attention back to me, I saw you appear from behind the dumpster. I was hoping you’d stay out of Kevin’s sight. I wanted you to turn and run. Maybe call 911, but stay away. Of course, that wasn’t your style.”

He sighs, “It took you all of half a second to take in the scene and assess the situation. Before I could even warn you off you started charging and yelling. Kevin had been winding up for the second blow when he heard you screaming, ‘tiny dicked mother fucker’ at him over and over again. He turned around just as you made contact. You literally were half his weight, but you had a head of steam going and you slammed into his chest so hard that he staggered backwards a few steps. He must have tripped on his own feet because suddenly he was falling backwards. His head smacked against a cement parking block and he didn’t get back up.”

I say, “Oh my god.”

He pauses the story to check in with me, “Should I stop?”

“Keep going.”

He stares into my eyes. “You need to understand that this was an accident. His not-so-tragic death was his own damn fault. He attacked me. He had cocaine in his system. He stumbled on his own clumsy feet. If he hadn’t been an evil predator, he’d be alive today. The only thing you’re guilty of is being too brave. You saved my life that night. And not for the first time.”

I nod for him to continue.

“You had the small Swiss Army Knife that you used to carry and you cut my bindings. Kevin still hadn’t moved, so we cautiously approached. I knelt down and determined he wasn’t breathing. I looked up at you and shook my head.” Tyson’s face shows the pain he must have felt in that moment. “Jack, I watched you break. You didn’t break down, you broke apart. You went almost catatonic. You had had a minor breakdown the night of the bonfire, but this was different. Back then, despite the fact that you almost died that night, you freaked out over what you did to Ricky. Your reaction scared me, but you were still you. This time, you shut down. You disappeared.”

He stares at me, “But not before you saved my life, again. So, there I was, between Kevin’s lifeless body and your crumbling one. We were just kids. It was an impossible spot to be in, but I knew travesti ankara I didn’t have much time. I had to make a quick decision. Honestly, it was almost like I didn’t make a decision at all. My body started moving independently from my brain as I took action. It was so cold outside. Single-digit-temperature-cold. You started to shake and shiver so I practically carried you to the passenger seat of my car, started the engine and cranked up the heat. Video surveillance in parking lots wasn’t as common back then as it is today and the rear lot of that moderately priced hotel didn’t have any. The cold, the wind and the distance from the lobby meant we’d been alone all this time, but someone would come by, eventually.”

He lets out a breath. “Right or wrong, I ruled out calling the police. The fucker was dead. I was worried that we couldn’t prove self-defense. What did I know? I was a kid. I was scared for both of us. If I had called the police, I would have said that I was the pusher, but I was afraid that if you ever snapped out of it, you’d take on the blame all yourself. That wasn’t a chance I was willing to take. I considered leaving Kevin right where he was and doing nothing, but I couldn’t be sure that we couldn’t be linked to the location somehow. I needed help, but from who? Miranda? Josh? No. Connor. I’d hardly seen or talked to him since the end of the summer, but I knew he was home on break too. And you know what? I called him and he showed up in minutes, no questions asked. Well, a few questions were asked. I gave him a sixty-second summary and he was there for me. For us.”

He sips he water, “He looked down at Kevin’s lifeless body and said, ‘fuck him’. It was Connor, coming into the situation with a cool head and fresh perspective, who suggested moving the body and staging the scene. Once we decided on the location, we got busy. He helped me load Kevin into the passenger seat of Kevin’s own pickup truck. It was almost like a scene from Weekend at Bernie’s. We seat-belted him in place and it looked like he was asleep. I wouldn’t let Connor drive Kevin’s truck. If any kind of evidence was going to be left behind, I was going to be the only one it would be tied to. Connor drove my car, with you still in it and I drove Kevin’s.”

He glances at me to make sure I’m still okay. “It’s crazy how fast it all went and how little time it actually took. The deserted parking lot of that park was like a frozen tundra. I parked his truck, we carried his body and strategically placed it with the head in just the right position against a parking block. The parking lot’s surface was all ice and hard, frozen, crushed, packed snow. It didn’t look like we were leaving any shoe prints, but to be safe, I actually took Kevin’s shoes off his feet, put them on my own and walked around a little while Connor crawled around and brushed away everywhere that our shoes made contact. The stage was set very much like what actually happened. I locked the truck doors and put the keys back in his pocket where I found them in the first place. I put Kevin’s shoes back on his feet and Connor and I returned to my car in our socks. He had parked on the street so there was no chance of leaving my tire tracks in the lot. And I didn’t worry about trace evidence. It was freezing outside. I wore a hat and gloves the whole time. There would be no fingerprints or hairs from me.”

He had been right. Nothing suspicious had been found.

“I drove us all back to the hotel where Connor’s car was waiting. I hugged the shit out of him. Tears were streaming down my face as I thanked him profusely. I had always judged Connor to be a fair-weather friend. He proved me wrong that day and we’ve been close ever since. He asked if there was anything else he could help with. If there was anything he could do for you. I just thanked him again and sent him on his way.”

He leans back in his chair, “You were still nonresponsive and I was terrified. You had a plane to catch the next day. What was I supposed to do? Drop you off at home and hope for the best? I wanted to take you home with me, but your parents weren’t the kind to not notice your absence, eighteen years old or not. I managed to sneak you into your house through the back door, up the stairs and into your room without detection. I got you in bed and, thankfully, you fell asleep. I went down stairs and said goodnight to your parents, acting like we’d been hanging out in your room for a while. I left out the front door, snuck in again through the back and into your bedroom once more. I texted Miranda to cover for me at home. I told her to say I reconnected with Connor and was sleeping over at his house if she needed to. Then I climbed into your bed and held you like I did the night of the bonfire. I didn’t sleep one wink. I was running different scenarios in my mind. What if you woke up and you weren’t okay? What would we do? What would we say? How would we make you whole again?”

He leans forward in his chair, “I know I already said this, but as the only eyewitness, I swear to you, this was an accident. It was defense, not offense. Was he an evil fucker who absolutely deserved his fate? Yes. But when you charged him and pushed him, were you thinking — kill? Murder? No. You were thinking — protect. Save. You stopped him. You saved my life. Again.”