A/N: Here's the last chapter. Thank you everyone who has commented and supported this story. I dedicate this ending to you. I hope to hear from you in the future, and be on the look out for a potential sequel when I have more time! Also, I am on tumblr under the username "agrinsosardonic" if you want to follow me there and get some behind the scenes extras! This is the end and it was a pleasure sharing this story with you all!
Chapter 41: Janus
It's the three-year, two month anniversary of my death, and this time I'm celebrating with my guitar and a menthol cigarette since I can't give up on all my vices. Jeans rolled up, legs in the crisp, cold, chlorinated water, which offers relief from the blaring early afternoon sun. In between long drags of my smoke, I run my hands over the strings of the guitar; a new song dancing on my finger tips.
I learned recently, the vibration of music freed my lungs of water. And my tongue didn't swell when used to articulate the lyrics. And within the last several months, I haven't felt as empty or distant from humanity.
And that almost brings me comfort. As the dawn of my senior year, in a strange new world, approaches.
I snuff the smoke into the astray Cid got me for my seventeenth birthday. The singe hissing into the, somewhat, quiet summer day. The distance splashes from pools echo against chirping birds and buzz from lurking insects. There's a block party around the corner. Sounds of a DJ setting up over the shrill screams of children. The smell of cooked ground beef, mystery meat. Mothers and fathers scolding rowdy mini-versions of themselves as if they didn't create this mess. The party around the corner is not for me. I'm no longer invited to any of the BBQs my neighbors host- and by extension, neither are my parents.
Saint Sebastain's claimed they didn't divulge any details as to why the Class of 2006 would be at least two bodies short; but word travels fast on this island. And these proclaimed Christians can't find forgiveness in their heart.
Hate the sin not the sinner,
If I had a nickel...
They did suggest it was our choice to leave the school and the Church attached; which I guess they could justify that since we willfully exited the building on June 17th, 2005, took off the two button, navy, suit blazer with our school's emblem stitched over our hearts, and set them on fire in the trashcan in front of the building. And while the administration watched with the gentle shakes of their heads, we offered them the two finger farewell appropriately summed up the last year.
We were grounded for a whole hour for that stunt.
Mostly for the fire. It was Reno's idea.
He wanted to burn the whole school down, but I needed to remind him he probably couldn't get away with murder anymore- and while he agreed, the twinkle in his blue eyes implied otherwise.
Thankfully, there were no charges brought against us for the minor act of wrathful arson. When a day later, my former best friend who spent the remainder of the school year attempting to torture Reno and I any chance he got, drove his car into the school high off his some schmuck's Bennies.
The last time anyone saw Sephiroth, he was in handcuffs in the back of a police car- with administration of the school still shaking their heads. Rumor has it, his parents sent him to some boarding school in Russia. Rumor has it, he's in the Staten Island psych ward because he threatened to murder his mother. Rumor has it, they shipped him across the country to stay with relatives.
Rumors. Rumors. Rumors. Swirl in the mouths of the pathetic fucks that still walk those halls. The ones about me are even better…
But I don't have it in me to dwell too hard on the words that fall from now vacant lips. The school lays behind me and a new building merges just beyond the horizon. Despite the hoops and red tape, our plan to attend New Dorp High School for senior year became a reality. And in two days, I'll walk into the beige brick structure in one of my many bands shirts and tattered and ripped jeans and maybe not have to worry as much if someone finds out I'm gay.
And while I'm bummed I won't be walking the graduation procession with Cid, Barret, and Aerith, I'm looking forward to spending more time with Tifa - who has almost completely forgiven me- and the rest of the "rocker" gang.
The sound of the door sliding open slices through the Summer humidity-
"You are looking at the best lifeguard the South Shore has ever seen!" Reno announces to the dull air.
I smirk, not bothering to turn to view him as he approaches with his shoes scuffing the new pavers Dad put in before the summer. "I guess your temporary retirement party went well?"
"That chick I was tellin' you about asked for my number," he takes a seat next to me, kicking off his sneakers and sticking his legs in the cold water with a hiss.
"Oh word? Did you break her heart?"
"Nah, we have a date tonight," he snorts, "Actually, I told her she was barkin' up the wrong tree." He winks.
"And?"
"She didn't get it. I had to spell it out for her."
"She must have been devastated."
"She thought I was lyin'!" he shakes his head. "She asked me if I was sure I'm gay! Said I don't act gay. Like, shit, I didn't know this was some part I had to play a certain way- the fuck."
"Did she mumble something about all the hot guys are either taken or gay?"
"Yes, but only after she tried to convince me her pussy was so powerful, it would turn me straight."
And that earned an uncharacteristic laugh from me. "Damn. She had it bad for you, huh?"
"I mean, look at me, can you blame her?"
I couldn't exactly deny that his attractiveness was in no way hindered by the bright white shirt with the bold red letters that spelled "Lifeguard" over his chest. And I've bore witness to the way he carried himself at the Tottenville public pool, with his tone chest on display, as he blew his whistle and yelled at kids to stop running just to hear his own voice carry the hint of a threat. I've seen the way girls fawned over him. And, in a way, I enjoyed living vicariously through his popularity. And I felt a sense of pride that I am the one he comes back home to.
"I think when I start Starbucks, I'm just gonna walk through the door and annouce I'm gay so I don't break anymore hearts." he leans back on his elbows, his sunglasses reflecting the glimmer of the sun. "By the way, when you thinkin' of getting a job over here?"
"I thought my job was to sit here and look pretty?"
"Haha," he kicks my leg, sending ripples of water along the length of the pool, "I ain't your sugar daddy, yet."
"Bummer. Why am I even with you?"
"'Cause of my huge dick, obviously."
"Oh, right...how could I forget."
I hear the crud joke dangling on his lips, but he doesn't vocalize it; instead, he just glides his foot up and down my leg hidden under the water. This has been the scene of the summer; two of us by the pool, my fingers twirling around the strings of a guitar while he distracts me with his touch. No longer desperate for the need to leave the safety of the backyard to find something to destroy myself with just to feel something again. The woods that lead to New Dorp beach have become overrun with the next generation of delinquents and the older generation who haven't gotten the memo: it's time to leave some vices behind.
That's not to say that we don't sneak our fair share of debauchery out of the parents line of sight. But the blackout nights have become a distant, unpleasant, lack of memory. And I'm grateful of the silence that has befallen that bad friend who lurks in the back of my mind…
I tremble my fingers through the C, E and A-minor chords to the rhythm of Reno's lingering touch.
"Where's mom and dad?"
"Ugh, I hate when you call them that," I pause with a scrunch of my nose.
He laughs. "Fine...where's B-Money and C-span."
"Out grabbing a buncha shit for the twilight bbq dad's all excited about."
My parents have been more present in the house. Something our family therapist suggested to my chagrin, but their excitement. All these family sponsored events were starting to take a toll on my teenage indifference. They had a standing invitation for all my friends to come over anytime and enjoy the pleasures of the backyard. They spruced up the place. New firepit in the corner, pool regularly cleaned, the rusty furnitured thrown out and replaced with a new black rod iron set. The grill which had been unused and housed a wasp nest was safety disposed of in the beginning of Summer and replaced with the newest model. Dad has proclaimed himself the grill master and tries to flex his skills to the other dad's in the group. The ones who still talk to us.
Tonight, his new annual labor day twilight bbq is upon us and his and my mother's enthusiasm is almost contagious.
And maybe when I'm older, I'll admit these new interactions with my parents have actually been good. And welcomed. And I finally feel I've found my father again...after being lost for so long.
And I'm motivated by my mother's dedication to staying sober and going back to school to help others. And I'm more proud of her than I've ever been.
"Oh?" Reno's hand finds its way under my shirt, crawling up my spine like a spider. "So we have this big ol' house all to ourselves."
I shiver with a smirk, "Easy. They'll be home any minute and we almost got caught last time."
He huffs as he drags his nails down my back to echo his displeasure; but doesn't press the issue. And I respond with a new set of chords and pluck strings, making the sound of raindrops hitting water.
"You gonna finally sing me this song you've been practicing?"
"No."
"Someone's shy all of a sudden."
"Too intimate."
His roars with laughter, falling back onto the ground. "This guy," he laments to the sun. I shake my head, the sun doesn't have the answers. Maybe the clouds do, however. The ones that roll overhead like destroyed cotton. Like maybe they can see I have already planned on singing this stolen tune for him because it's the closest thing to a summary of how I've felt since he collided into my life-like a rogue planet- and evaporated everything I knew.
There's a beauty in destruction. A chance to be reborn.
Reno moves behind me, pulling me close so my back rests against his chest. I feel his breathing, the way his heart pounds like a drum to the tune of my guitar. He slithers his arms around me and the instrument. His left hand reaches and covers mind over the neck of the guitar.
But I switch us, mold his fingers to the E chord and press them against the metal of the strings. He lays his right hand against mine and follows my movements as I glide my fingers along the strings. The rumble of music vibrates against the both of us…
I think back to a year ago:
How sad I was every day that it made my muscles hurt. And how I couldn't bear the pain of life that I numbed it until I couldn't feel anything, for anyone, anymore.
And I wore a mask I stapled to my face, to hide from everyone.
And I couldn't imagine living past sixteen…
But it's 2005. And the rest of the world can pretend that not caring is trendy. But I'm fine with showing this being behind me, who releases my hands so I can take over the song, how much I care about him and myself. And the life we began to create over the wreckage of our junior year. And I have no time to regret the past when I'm so focused on the future.
Reno whispers in my ear all the ways he's fallen in love with me again within the last several minutes. And each word, and phrase, from his loosen lips tickles against my skin.
And located in his words, I find the answer to the question I had at the very beginning of this story.
And without much more I could say, I take a deep breath and sing:
This is the first day of my life….
