Watching for Comets

Friday

Closing on Friday couldn't come fast enough. I cleaned up and cashed out so fast that it caught my boss' attention.

"Got a hot date?" he teased.

"Yes, actually," I replied in my best deadpan.

At first, he looked surprised. Then his mouth curved into a grin and he clapped my shoulder. "Good for you, Lonny!" he exclaimed, sounding genuinely happy for me. "With that musician from last weekend? He's still around?"

The bittersweet reminder pinched at my chest. "He's leaving in the morning."

His expression faltered. "Well, have fun," he offered uncertainly. When he went to clap my shoulder for a second time, his palm landed partly on my still-healing upper bicep. I automatically flinched back as pain ricocheted up my arm.

"Watch it," I said, but not harshly. "I just got a tattoo."

He was even more surprised at this than the date. "No way! Can I see it?" I stretched my collar open and lifted my shoulder. He admired the artwork, then peered at me with curious eyes. "A date and a tattoo? Who are you and what have you done with Lonny?"

I laughed nervously, not sure how serious he was being. But he didn't need a response before returning to his work with a smile.

When I went to double-check that the front door was locked, I spotted Jason in the parking lot. The back of my mind spared a moment to consider that odd, since he normally met me out back, but my heart was too distracted by seeing him again. I opened the door and called out to him.

My smile faded as he approached and I could more clearly read his expression. "What's wrong?" I prompted, cupping his face in my hands. At least he leaned into me, holding my shoulders.

"I can't stay," he said, and my heart sank. "I have to get going. But I wanted to give you a proper good-bye."

"This isn't good-bye forever, is it?" I asked, hoping against hope. But the way he was pursing his lips wasn't a good sign.

"I don't know, Lonny." His tone was full of regret. If possible, my heart dropped even further into my chest. "I'll have to think about it. I live in London, you live here—"

"That's much closer than outer space. I can come visit. And if you're on tour most of the time anyway..."

"Lonny..." He shook his head slowly.

I lowered my hands to grip his shirt collar. "I thought you said this was a romance novel. At the end of a romance novel, the two people end up together."

"I know," he replied sadly, "but maybe I was wrong. Maybe it's not the same for us."

"What do you mean, 'us'? Us queer people, or the two of us in particular?"

Instead of answering, he only shook his head once more. "Will you let me kiss you one last time?"

With tears in my eyes, I nodded. He leaned forward and captured my lips, this time full of gentleness and care. His hands supported the back of my head, thumbs caressing the space behind my ears. I tried to savor the moment – what could possibly be our last kiss forever. I didn't even care that my boss might be watching.

Far too soon, Jason released me.

"At least let me give you my phone number," I insisted, "in case you change your mind."

When he shook his head this time, it felt like my heart was being torn in two. "I know how to find you," he said. As I tried to figure out what he meant by that, he reached into his pocket and pulled something out in a closed fist. Taking my hand, he pressed the object into my palm, but held tightly as he leaned forward again to whisper in my ear, "I love you, Epsilon."

The breath caught in my throat, my mind spinning. In a split second, before I could recover, he was gone. The door slammed shut behind him. My hands trembling, I held up the object he had given me.

It was half of a broken heart friendship necklace, "friends" stamped into the front and my name printed on the back.

Epsilon. The company we ordered it from had triple-checked with us to make sure that was right.

Me and—

"J—" slipped out of my mouth in a stutter as I stared at the door through which he had departed. Forcing my feet to move, I rushed outside. The tour bus was pulling out of the parking lot. The necklace and the keys to the bar clanked against my thigh.

"Jason..." I hiccuped. There, in the parking lot in the dark, I pressed the necklace to my face and cried. Like the broken heart, it felt like two pieces of my life that had been separate for years had finally come together and fit perfectly, only to be torn apart.

Footsteps sounded behind me, followed by a hand landing on my shoulder.

"Why don't you go home, Lonny?" my boss suggested, with respectful sympathy. "I'll take care of the rest."

I nodded robotically. I exchanged the keys for my coat. "Thanks," I muttered, and headed around back to my car. On the drive back to my dorm, my mind got stuck on being called Lonny again.

Lonny, short for Epsilon. What I got for being born to two math geeks. The latter was their idea; the former, mine.

He knew. He had known – maybe not the whole time, but for a while – and didn't tell me.

Why? If it was too weird for him, I could respect that. But if he was pushing me away for my own sake...

I needed to know.

As I lay in bed that night, futilely trying to fall asleep, my mind replayed every single moment we had spent together. Every time he had asked me a question to which he already knew the answer, or expressed surprise at something that had changed in the last 12 years. Why I felt so close to him despite having just met. He did know my parents after all. And the things I had said to him about Julia—

Was that what made him unsure about having sex? That it would have been too weird for him, knowing how I felt about her? I was relieved that we hadn't gone through with it after all. I would have hated to find out after the fact that he had this secret knowledge on me. I wasn't sure I would have forgiven him.

Was there any way I could have figured it out myself? Had he been waiting for me to do so? When he slapped that license into my hand, had he wanted me to notice that their birth dates were the same? I couldn't remember even looking at the day, just the month and year. I conjured a picture of the license from memory, trying to recall the last name printed – had he not changed it? Julia's was a common one, but in combination it might have sparked some connection in my mind.

If he could forgive me for being oblivious, I could forgive him for keeping secrets from me and the little things he had done anyway.

My chest felt like it was burning from the inside out. Even as I lay perfectly still, my hands and arms vibrated with energy. Energy that needed a release.

Within seconds, the razor blade lay in my palm. But as I stared at it, remembering how the sharp edge felt against my skin, I realized that it wasn't going to change anything.

I wanted my actions to make a difference.

I pitched it across the room, the metal clinking against the concrete wall. It wasn't until after it had fallen out of sight behind my dresser that the pain from the cuts it had left behind on my fingers hit my nerves. I cursed, instinctively bringing my thumb and forefinger to my mouth and tasting blood. I was tempted to laugh. After all that, and I had cut myself anyway.

After wrapping bandages around my injuries, I went to retrieve the fallen razor blade so no one else stumbled upon it by accident and got hurt.