full moon party

Lochlan is so lost in thought that he doesn’t hear the door open. Saxon tosses his shirt at Lochlan to get his attention, which forces Lochlan to inhale the smell of Saxon’s sweat. The smell is both gross and masculine, almost sexual, because it makes Lochlan think about exertion. The other ways Saxon could exert himself. He could hold Lochlan down and fuck.

Lochlan mutters something generic about his incompatibility with Rosey. He leaves out the truth; ignores what he’d really wanted. He’s become so good at repression. Then he comments that his ex never cooked. Lochlan mentally kicks himself, worried that he suddenly made it seem like Saxon is his new boyfriend. Saxon, however, is focused on a different part of Lochlan’s relationship.

“Oh, yeah?” he asks. His tone is leering. “What else didn’t she do?”

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Dad is overbearingly involved with Saxon: ready with a heavy hand on Saxon’s shoulder, steering him physically and mentally toward the company that Saxon stands ready to inherit. What was it, in that verse Lochlan had read in Sunday School years ago? Kingdoms and splendor? He wonders if their dad’s influence means that Saxon could ever escape like Piper has, and like Lochlan wants to, or if Saxon will stay trapped in a miserable job and a miserable marriage forever because that’s what Dad wants.

He turns away from the kitchen and slips out the door to the pool. Part of the escape is for fresh air; the house becomes stifling after a day full of people. A larger part is to compose himself. If these are the choices Saxon is making, he can’t interfere, as painful as it is.

That’s why it’s a surprise when Saxon meets him by the pool. They sit together and don’t talk until Lochlan can’t avoid the lingering shock of Dad’s punishment. Saxon’s presence next to him is a visceral reminder.

“What?” Saxon asks. The annoying thing about girls – and, it seems, Lochy in particular – is that they never come out and say exactly what’s bothering them.

“You’re sending such mixed messages.” Now she sounds angry. “You want me to get laid, but then you act so possessive when there’s even the chance that I might. It’s like you want to be my boyfriend and don’t know how to say it. But you’re my brother. It doesn’t work like that.”

Dad claps Lochlan on the shoulder and leaves Lochlan to fend for himself. Lochlan waits on the dusty gravel driveway that leads up to the facility buildings. He hugs his duffel bag for some semblance of protection while he watches the other boys arrive. There are 12 in all, and they look similarly lost and scared. Because Lochlan doesn’t hate Saxon, not really; he’s just scared and sad and confused. Scared because he ruined whatever they had together. He thought it was something Saxon wanted, too.