Javi, Come Home

CHAPTER THREE

     One summer, the boredom overtook them so badly they decided to try camping, even though they had no real affinity for camping activities. Tate cried the one and only time they went fishing, because they actually managed to catch something and were faced with the gruesome reality of the food chain.

     They liked camping in the sense that it gave them privacy and autonomy and the freedom they so desperately looked for at fifteen. Their only source of income was from doing odd jobs and chores around their homes. It took them nearly a month to save enough to buy a flimsy tent and some mediocre sleeping bags before they toted them to their lake.

     Tate had flipped through the manual several times but Javi was bent set on pitching the tent off of sheer perseverance alone. "I mean," he kept saying. "It's gotta be this way."

     It took them several tries before they finally had the thing put together and planted, mostly stable, in the ground. The lake was, at some point, a very public spot but with the addition of a town pool, most people spent their time there. It still had some old picnic tables remaining and an outdoor grill that wasn't at all maintained.

     The boys had bought hotdogs with them, that Javi threw on the grill and promptly burned. Tate ate three like they were the world's best hotdogs, dripping ketchup and mustard down his chin. Javi watched him, grinning, and then gestured to his chin. "You got some," he said motioning around his chin.

     Tate was always a messy eater, scarfing down food like he was perpetually in a state of starvation. He used the back of his hand to wipe his chin but only made it worse, smearing the ketchup up towards his cheek. Javi grabbed a napkin and leaned over the table towards him.

     "Come here," he said and gently wiped it away.

     Flushing, Tate mumbled a thanks.

     "You think it's gonna rain tonight?" Javi asked looking up at the sky. If he thought Tate's reaction was strange he wasn't giving it away.

     "No, it looks clear to me," Tate said and he couldn't have been further from right.

     The storm came quick, dropping sheets of rain on them, leaving them drenched in seconds. They didn't mind at first, laughing through their blurred vision. Javi's hair was long and it felt getting flattened across his forehead, blocking his eyes. He'd push it back and the rain would smooth it back down.

     "Told you to get a haircut!" Tate cried over the roar of the storm.

     "You love my hair," Javi retorted with a cheeky grin.

     Tate shook his head, his hair swinging like a wet dog. They were still in their bathing suits so they ran around in the rain, splashing through the growing puddles. It was fun at first but the temperature dropped quickly and the rain became aggressively cold, so they retreated into their tent.

     Javi grabbed his towel, drying his hair out and then patting down his chest. He was still laughing as he did. Summer storms had a way of making nothing feel real, like they were now in an alternate reality.

     "So much for that," he said.

    Tate looked stressed, poking at the wall of their tent as the wind shook it. "Should we head home?"

     "No, we're fine," Javi insisted.

     "It's going to be cold," Tate had responded which meant he was already cold. Javi rifled through his bag and pulled out his hoodie, tossing it at Tate. "What about you?"

     "I'm hot blooded," Javi responded.

     "Hot blooded my ass," Tate said grinning at Javi. He slipped into his sweatshirt like it was a second skin. The arms were long on him but he happily tucked his hands inside, teeth chattering.