The laughing and talking and music of the Trinity senior class graduation party had become a blur in Obie's ears as he walked away from the big, white tarp tent. The football field's lights made the bleachers look like an empty, silver wasteland. Empty save for one boy, sitting at the end, looking off into the distance.
They hadn't spoken since Fair Day. Obie felt a lump in his throat as he climbed the bleachers and sat down beside Archie Costello, who didn't look up from his gazing off into space.
"What brings you away from the festivities, Obie?" His voice was cautious. Too cautious for Archie. He's up to something, Obie thought. He's got to be.
"Carter's drunk off his ass and I don't want to be around when the Brothers figure out that that wasn't Coke he was drinking earlier."
Archie laughed ruefully, still not looking at Obie. "Typical."
"You're one to talk about not joining in with the festivities. You've been out here all day."
"It's all trivial," Archie said, finally turning to look at Obie, his blue eyes full of that compassion that he so easily feigned. "High school is all trivial. Especially here."
"Yeah, I know, you're a great philosopher or whatever. Good for you." Obie put his chin in his hands. They sat like that for awhile, and if Obie strained his ears he could hear the sound of a car starting in the Trinity parking lot.
"Obie," Archie said.
"I know what you're about to say."
"Psychic, are we?" Archie's lips had this funny smile on them-it made Obie think of when they'd been freshmen and Archie was just getting started in The Vigils. "How about you guess, then?"
"You're gonna apologize for Bunting and Laurie."
"No, actually. Your psychic powers fail you." He scooted closer to Obie on the bench. "What I wanted to say, Obie, is that I trust you more than anyone in the entire world." He was grinning like a middle schooler with a secret.
Obie stared at him. "What's…that supposed to mean?" That was Archie. Always confusing.
"I let you almost kill me, Obie. You could have be-headed me. I trust you more than my own father, more than Carter or Bunting. You are not merely my errand boy or my secretary. To me, you are…" He trailed off. Obie figured he would have to write this one down; Archie Costello was at a loss for words.
"Archie, I…you know, I hated you back then."
"That's the thing. I never hated you. I always..."
"You always?"
"I am a man of the truth, Obie. The school sees me as a liar and a manipulator, but the reason they are afraid of me is because I tell the truth. I always tell the truth. But now, I…" He laughed, suddenly. "I feel as though I can't. You said it yourself. You hate me. I ruined your relationship. I treated you like dirt all through high school."
"Gee, Archie…I just…We were both confused this year, okay? How about we leave it at that? We were confused and we fucked up. I dunno what goes through that head of yours, but I was pretty confused."
Archie was silent. His fingers were steepled and his eyes were closed. Obie had seen him like this before, when he was coming up with Assignments. "Do you remember the chocolate sale, Obie?"
"Of course I remember the chocolate sale. There's not a soul in Trinity who doesn't remember th-"
"No, not that one. We were sophomores. You and I sold our twenty-five boxes within a week because you had this bicycle your mother had gotten you and we'd stuff the boxes in the basket of the bicycle and I clung to the back while you held onto the handlebars and we'd go all around the neighborhood on that bicycle."
"Yeah, I think I do. What about it?"
"Nothing. I was just recalling it."
Was he saying sorry? The great Archie Costello, reminiscing and giving Obie a sad puppy face look? He's got to be up to something. He just has to be. "Sophomore year was good. That kid Renault wasn't even here yet."
"Mm-hm."
Perhaps Archie Costello didn't say sorry with words. He prided himself on being unapologetically cruel with what he said, but Archie and Obie had always had a sort of a secret language with each other. The exchanged looks in the hallway, Archie tapping his hands on the table, Obie pushing his glasses up his nose. Perhaps for Obie, Archie Costello was saying sorry in the only way he knew how.
"God damn, Archie."
"Yes?"
"You are a mystery."
"What makes you say that?"
"I dunno." Obie smiled weakly at him.
And then, without either really knowing what they were doing, they were kissing. Obie first found his hands in Archie's hair, feeling from the soft, yellow part on the top of his head to the peach fuzz on his neck until they rested on his shoulders. It wasn't like when Laurie had kissed him for his first kiss a couple months back. That'd felt exciting and needy and new and real.
This wasn't actually a very good kiss, not like the ones in the movies. Obie's glasses bumped against Archie's face and Archie had to lean up to receive the action. He felt stiff against Obie's body and he couldn't seem to figure out whether he wanted to put his arms around Obie's waist or not. Who knew that the Assigner was such an awful kisser?
But while Archie kissed him he understood-he understood why Archie Costello had sent Bunting after Laurie and why Archie had smiled at him as he sent the guillotine blade down.
"You're a piss poor kisser, Archie," Obie said when they broke apart. His heart was beating in his ears. Was he really…did he really just kiss Archie Costello? Was he like the kids Emile Janza taunted? A fairy? He supposed nobody from Trinity would have to know once he graduated, but it felt odd, admitting to it like that. "Did anyone ever tell you that?"
"Will you allow me to improve?"
"Show me what you've got, Assigner," Obie said, laughing a little. And Archie kissed him again. For a second, his eyes were open, because for a reason he didn't know he suddenly, strangely remembered that he'd thrown away his Vigils notebook.
Archie, you bastard, he thought, and closed his eyes.