Bear, Otter, & the Kid 01 - Bear, Otter, & the Kid (MM) by T. J. Klune
I hadn’t realized I’d fallen asleep until the ringing phone jerked me awake. I glanced at the clock: eleven forty-two. I had only been out for thirty minutes. The phone rang again.
Creed.
I rolled my eyes and connected the call. “Drunk dialing already? Isn’t it a little early for that? I expected it to be after one when you first called.”
“Bear?” Creed’s voice came through, strained. I could hear someone murmuring in the background. Beyond that, a loud thumpthumpthump of music. “Bear, can you hear me?”
“How much have you had?” I laughed.
“Shut up and listen!” he shouted. I sat up straight at the sound of the panic in his voice.
“What’s going on, Creed? Is everyone okay?”
“No, it’s not. He’s leaving.”
“What? Who?”
“Otter! He’s packing up his shit, and he’s leaving!”
“What?” I whispered. “To go where?”
“Where the fuck do you think? Back to California. Bear, you’ve got to fix this now! You can’t let him leave!”
“But—”
“No buts!” Creed screamed. “Now!”
“Creed?”
“Bear?”
“It’s strong. I’ll fix this.”
He took a deep breath. “I know. Are you coming now?”
“Let me drop the Kid with Mrs. Paquinn, and I will be over. Don’t let him leave.”
“Hurry,” Creed said, and then he was gone.
I ALREADY told you I drove like a madman through the streets of Seafare. I already told you that I jumped the curb and left my car running. I already told you that I ran up the stairs and burst into Otter’s room. You know what waits inside. What you don’t know is that as I blew through a stop sign (undoubtedly doing Mrs. Paquinn proud), I felt the tremors start again from deep inside me, the beginning of an earthquake that caused my teeth to chatter. I knew, though, that somehow this one was different. Whatever last vestiges I seemed to be holding onto started to shift and crack with the rolling of the fault line. The white noise, the lapping of the waves, the darkness of the ocean, all were getting sucked down into the chasm collapsing inside me. I knew that this was it, the final moment, where I could either go forward or back. I pushed the gas pedal down harder, just knowing what was waiting for me and that I was never, ever going back. I knew that without him, there would be no me. Naive, I know. Misguided, definitely. But it didn’t matter. I had learned my Very Valuable Lesson. I was the Hero of this fucking story. I was going to get my goddamned happy ending.
Ah God, how I should have realized.
NO PARKING. Shit. How many fucking people does Creed know? Where? Jump the curb. Phone makes noise. Voice mail. I’ll check it later. The Kid’s fine, I just left him. Just get to Otter. Put the car in park. I forgot the keys! The front door. The music is loud. Get out of my way! Sorry, sorry, sorry, excuse me, excuse me. MOVE! Where the hell are Creed and Anna? Stairs. Hallway. Door. OTTER’S ROOM. Knock first? No, just fucking go in. Maybe he’ll be—too late. The door slams open. Otter, at his desk. What is he thinking? His eyes are wide. Gold and green. God, he’s so beautiful. God, how I’ve missed him. God, how I just want—who the fuck is this guy? Why is he smiling at me? Why is he walking toward me? Why am I shaking his hand?
“You must be Bear. I’m Jonah, Oliver’s boyfriend.”
WELCOME back to the present. You’ll probably wish you hadn’t come.
I hold Jonah’s hand, and I hear Otter hiss something, but I can’t quite make it out over the blood sizzling in my ears. I want to raise my eyes to look at Otter, to get some goddamned explanation for this, but I can’t stop shaking Jonah’s motherfucking hand. His grip is tight, mine tighter. I want to break his fingers. I want to rip his arm off. I want to beat Otter over the head with it. Obviously, he doesn’t need me. He’s going back to California with him. I drop Jonah’s hand and spin out of the room, hearing Otter shout after me. I mean to turn right, but instead turn left, wanting to find Creed and bash his face in, too, for letting Jonah into the house. For fucking me over. I hate him. I hate them all. I hear someone rushing after me. Right as I reach Creed’s door and prepare to throw it open, I hear Otter shout, “No, wait!” I don’t and the door flies open. The room is bright, the music loud, but my vision is clear, cold, concise. The door opens, but Creed and Anna aren’t quick enough, the shout from Otter not loud enough, and I see their lips pressed together, Creed’s arms wrapped around Anna’s waist, her breasts pressed against his chest, and suddenly the last few months make perfect sense. Where Creed had been disappearing to, where he’d been going behind my back. They jump apart, but it’s too late. I’ve seen enough. My heart screams, my head screams, my body screams, but I stay silent. I want to move, but which way I don’t know. My eyes feel black, my jaw about to snap out of its socket. I can’t move. My feet are stuck to the floor. I want to leave, I want to leave so bad and just go away from all of this, go and drown in the ocean because wasn’t that last earthquake a lie? Wasn’t it just so deceitful? Couldn’t I just hear Creed’s words in my head? He said he needed—
there’s something i need to talk to you about
—to tell me something. He said that it—
everything’s fine
—wasn’t important. He said that it could wait. And at that moment, doesn’t Creed sound just like Otter? Don’t I hear the voices mingle and mix until its Creed and Otter saying—
i won’t talk to jonah again
—things that are sugar in my ears, poison in my veins? Don’t I hear Otter/Creed saying that he—
the fight for you is all i’ve ever known
—loves me? Has it all been leading to this? Is this what I’ve been waiting for?
JUST STOP AND LISTEN! it screams. DON’T DO THIS, BEAR! THINK ABOUT IT FOR ONE FUCKING SECOND! I shove it away.
“Bear?” Anna says, her face pale. “Bear, please, just listen to me for
a—”
“I was going to tell you!” Creed begs. “It just happened, and I didn’t know how to say anything—”
But that all disappears as soon as I feel his hands on my shoulders, his big hands, those hands that I swore would always be mine. “Did you know about this?” I ask, my voice an earthquake. “Did you know?”
There’s no question as to whom this is directed, and I feel his hands tense against my shoulders, squeezing painfully, and he leans forward, his breath hot against my neck, and I shiver involuntarily. This causes a single tear to fall from my right eye. “I just found out earlier tonight,” Otter whispers, pressing his forehead against my hair. To lean back into him would be so easy. So easy.
I step away.
Creed moves forward, but I shake my head in warning, and he stops, his face relaying the panic we all must feel. But his panic is laced with guilt, and it is my undoing.
“Did you know?” I ask Creed now.
“Know?” he asks, confused. “Know what?”
“About Jonah,” I grind out.
His eyes flash over my shoulder, and I know he’s looking at Otter. I don’t turn around. I can’t.
“Otter’s ex? What about him?” Creed asks, but then Anna jumps forward and whispers urgently in his ear, and as if it’s even possible, his face gets whiter still. “That was Jonah? Bear, I swear to God I didn’t know that! Do you really think I would have let him in had I known? Otter would never—”
“What’s going on in here?” Jonah asks from the doorway.
“Family meeting,” I say, whirling around. “I was just leaving.” I bump past Otter, who reaches out to grab me, but I knock his hands away. Jonah is leaning against the door frame, looking calm and collected. And he still has a smile on his face. Before I know what I’m doing, my fist cocks back, and I let my arm fly and smash my knuckles into his nose. He squawks as blood flies from my fingertips, and I push by him. He’s not smiling now. Bastard.
The music thumpthumpthumps as I storm down the hall, ignoring th
They’re all shouting something, but I don’t care. I throw my car into reverse and bounce over the curb again. Somehow, I don’t hit anyone or anything. I look up and see Otter moving toward me so I floor it and get the fuck out of there.
But even I can’t resist: I look in my rearview mirror and see Otter tearing after me, sprinting down the dark street.
I go faster.
MINUTES later, my phone vibrates. A missed call from Creed. I have one new message and one saved message. Creed’s message is from before I arrived at the party. “Hey, dude, don’t kill yourself trying to get over here. Anna thinks I may have freaked out too much. Besides, I think one of his friends just showed up. I don’t know who. I told him where Otter’s room was but that he had to make it quick because you were on your way and that it was kind of important that you speak to him as soon as possible. If I don’t see you when you get here, just know that I will be around. Always.”
THE second message is one that I have saved for weeks. It’s Otter, and he simply says, “I love you.”
I PARK somewhere. I don’t know where. I pull out my phone and call Mrs. Paquinn. They haven’t gotten to her yet.
“How’d it go, dear?” she asks excitedly.
“Fine,” I say brightly. Too bright, but she doesn’t notice. “Is the Kid okay?”
“He’s fine. Still asleep. Hasn’t woken up since you left.”
“I don’t know if I am going to make it home tonight,” I say evenly. “Is it okay if Tyson crashes with you? I’ll be home early, hopefully before he wakes up.”
She laughs. “Of course. If he gets up before you are here, I’ll let him know where you’re at and have him call you.”
“Thanks,” I say, my voice wavering.
She hears it. “Bear, is everything okay?”
“It’s fine.” I hear her phone click.
“Bear, I’ve got another call coming in, but I don’t know who that would be at this hour. You have fun tonight, okay? Be careful and give Otter my love.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. I hang up the phone and let the waves crash over me.
MOMENTS later, I look up. I hear the ocean, and I know that it’s not just in my head. I get out of the car and moan softly as, in my infinite wisdom under the duress of a psychological breakdown, I see that I’ve driven myself to the beach. Our beach. The one where I had first told Otter that I loved him. It’s after midnight, so there’s no one here. I’m alone. I don’t have anywhere else to go, so I guess it doesn’t matter.
I take off my shoes and walk into the sand, feeling it part and shift beneath my feet. The tide is in, and I see that where I had set up my little table, my little surprise for Otter, is completely under water. The cool water laps at my feet, and I sit down at the edge, feeling the salt against my ankles.
My phone rings. Otter. Ignore.
My phone rings. Creed. Ignore.
My phone rings. Anna. Ignore.
Mrs. Paquinn. Otter. Otter. Creed. Anna. Otter. It rings again and again.
I want to shut it off, but I can’t. Not if Tyson needs me.
So I shut myself off.
I lay back into the sand, the crest of the waves whispering at my back. I feel like I’m floating. The moon is bright and the stars are cold, ice chips waiting for the world to stop spinning. But it feels okay, drifting like this. It wants to speak, to tell me that I overreacted, that I had no right to behave the way I did. I push it away, and it floats out to sea. It’s better not to have to think right now.
My phone beeps. Message. Messages.
I lift it calmly and press it against my ear.
Otter: Creed told me everything, you fucking asshole, he says, his voice thick and angry. Oh God, he told me everything. He told me why. He told me what you were coming here to do. I didn’t know Jonah was going to be here! He just showed up out of nowhere. If you don’t pick up the goddamn phone, I swear to God I’m going to kill you.
His voice. His words. They go out to sea too.
Creed: PICK UP YOUR FUCKING PHONE! How dare you run out like that! After all we’ve said to each other over the past week, how fucking dare you! PICK UP YOUR PHONE!
Anna: Bear, we’re all freaking out now. Creed and Otter are losing their minds, and I think I am too. I’m so sorry you had to find out this way. Please. Call one of us back and tell us where you are.
Mrs. Paquinn: Oh, my sweet child. You should have just told me. You need to call me back. I don’t want you to be by yourself right now. Don’t let Tyson find out this way.
Otter: We’re going over to your house. You have to be there. You just have to.
Otter: Please. Bear. Please pick up.
All go out to sea where we all drift away.
MY BACK is grainy. I am cold. There are more phone calls. I ignore them. There are more messages, but I just delete them.
THE sun breaks over the curve of the water when the Kid walks down onto the beach. At first I think he is part of a dream, that he will be swallowed up by the ocean as well, but then he leans forward and brushes his hands through my hair, and he feels so alive.
“How?” I ask.
He snorts. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out where you would be. I’m surprised that no one else knew.”
I sit up, feeling sand caked against my back. He watches me with those eyes, those knowing, intelligent eyes. I don’t look around because I know he couldn’t have come alone. But I can’t feel anyone else on the beach, so I know it’s just us. For now.
“Why didn’t you come home?” he asks.
I shrug. “I couldn’t.”
He shakes his head and crawls into my lap. He’s still wearing his pajamas, and I don’t want him to get wet, but he ignores my protests and lays against me.
We are quiet for a few moments. Then, “Do you trust me?”
I look down at him in surprise. “Always.”
“Do you remember when I said that I was just a little guy, that I couldn’t take care of you by myself?”
I nod.
He leans back and puts his hands on my face. “Do you trust me to take care of you?”
I can’t help it: I crush him into me, feeling his warmth. “I know I messed up, Kid.”
He laughs softly. “You did. But you’re lucky to have someone like me who can tell you that.”
“They lied to me.”
“Anna and Creed?”
I nod.
“They didn’t lie to you about anything. You never asked. They just chose not to tell you. Not until they were comfortable with telling everyone. Sound familiar?”
“But—”
He shakes his head again. “There’s no way around it, Papa Bear. They did the exact same thing you did. And you remember how that turned out, right? They all stood by you, no matter what.”
I hang my head.
“I may not be the biggest Kid in the world, and I may not be the smartest, and I may not have been around to learn everything there is to know, but I do know this: people in love do the stupidest things. You should know that better than anyone. After all, you’ve been lucky to love two people who loved you back. But you walked away from Otter. Twice. Without giving him a chance either time. How fair is that?”
There’s no point in disagreeing with him. So I don?
“You have so many great people in your life, people who are willing to do anything for you.” His voice begins to take on heat. “They bend over backwards for you, and all you can do is push them away. How long is it going to be until you push me away?”
My eyes snap shut. “I would never—”
“You say that now,” he shouts at me, spitting venom, surprising me with his anger, “but I would’ve thought you would never push anyone else close to us away, either! How can I be expected to take care of you if you won’t even take care of yourself?”
I say nothing.
The little Kid in my lap continues: “We’re only given so many people in our lives, so many people that will love us unconditionally. Why do you think that is? I think it’s because of times like this, times when you think they are gone and you see just how big of a hole in your heart that you have. And it’s big, isn’t it, Bear? We’re all a puzzle and when one of us is gone, that piece is missing, and we’re incomplete. You above all others should have realized that.
“You have a chance, a chance to make something for yourself, something that is just for you, but that you can share with the rest of the world. How dare you throw it back in our faces.”
The Kid suddenly stands before me, and it’s like he’s ten feet tall. His eyes blaze, his jaw set, and I think how much he looks like me. He really is mine. “The Bear I know wouldn’t let this happen. The Bear I know would kick and scream and claw his way to protect what’s his. The Bear I know would fight. And fight. And fight until he had nothing left in him, because the Bear I know would never give up.”
“I punched Jonah in the face,” I say stupidly.