Silver Hills, 1992
The end of class.
Eric felt the corner of his mouth twitch at the thought. The end of class. The end of school. The end of his hopes for college, and the future he had thought he had a shot at. Muttering a curse under his breath as his locker failed to open, he impatiently worked the combination again. This time it took. He banged the door open, grabbed the pile of books inside and shoved them into his backpack.
A typewritten letter was sticking out of his chemistry textbook, and for a moment he was tempted to read it again - but what was the point? He knew exactly what it said; wasn’t like it was going to change.
‘We regret to inform you...’
They regret... Not as much as he regretted. Had they even thought about him when they cancelled the scholarship program right after the beginning of his last semester? About what he was supposed to do, where he was supposed to go? Off to another group home like they wanted, maybe worse than the last one? Go to some crummy public high school, probably where the kids were even worse than here? Hell no, not after the small taste he had gotten of a normal life, a better life.
He’d rather hit the streets. And that looked like his only option right now. Take the small amount of money he had saved up from various odd jobs and cash in the train ticket that had come with the letter, and find some way to survive until he could get his GED and enlist in the Army.
Slamming the locker door shut, he turned to leave - and found Wes staring at him from a classroom doorway across the hall. That was the one thing that was good about getting out of this place: getting away from the walking reminder of his own frustration, disappointment, and stupidity that was Wesley Collins.
Wes was greeting a couple of friends when he heard the violent slam of a locker door, looked for the source of the discordant sound - and met the dark and angry gaze of Eric Myers. It only lasted for an instant before Eric, his face harsh and closed, took off down the hall. Wes watched his retreating back until he turned a corner, feeling a sharp stab of regret and the tickle of guilt underneath it. How had things managed to fall apart so quickly and completely? Was it his fault? Eric’s? Both? Neither?
“Come on, Eric. Please?”
It had happened only a couple of months ago, when he’d been trying to get Eric out of his shell again by getting him to go to a party in one of the guys’ rooms. Somehow the invitation had turned into a playful tug of war over a textbook. They had both been laughing, and then they were suddenly leaning towards each other, faces only inches apart. He had felt that odd mix of fear and eagerness again, that excitement, as Eric’s lips came closer...
If they hadn’t been interrupted - what? What would have happened? He didn’t want to know, didn’t even want to think about it. Instead, he had begun to avoid the places where they usually met, and to look the other way as he saw bitterness begin to replace the cautious friendliness in Eric’s face.
Friendliness. Yes, they had been friends. Why exactly had he turned his back on that? Whatever Eric had tried to do - was it so terrible? Whatever Wes felt about it - they were supposed to be friends. Wasn’t that more important than any amount of embarrassment or awkwardness? Eric had looked so angry just now, so upset - was that the reason, that the one friend he had made here had let him down?
Maybe it was time to do something about it, if it wasn’t too late. Resolutely, Wes squared his shoulders and started down the hall.
Eric paused at the end of the hallway, looking through the glass doors at the world outside. Somehow that last step through the door was hard to take. It was the last step he would take as a student in this place that had almost started to seem like home. Now, just like every home he had ever known, he was about to leave it behind.
And leaving Wes behind - that would be good - bad - painful. He would be leaving behind the mistake he had made, but also any chance to make it right.
All the months they had been friends, ruined in an instant on that evening when they had found themselves alone in a dorm study room, with Wes being his usual outgoing, cheerful, friendly, and unreasonably attractive self. Only a moment of weakness and longing, of forgetting that Wes was straight and wouldn’t want him, and would run the other way, and would hate him... And it had all happened, all because of that one moment when Eric had thought he saw something in Wes’s eyes. Something that said his dreams of a kiss, a touch, could come true. And he had been stupid enough to believe that feeling, and to try.
But it didn’t matter anymore. He made up his mind to put Wes firmly in the past, along with this school, and start thinking about the future. No goodbyes; what would be the point? No complaints. He hadn’t told anyone why he was leaving and didn’t intend to. No way he would let any of these jerks feel sorry for him. And why should they? This wasn’t going to stop Eric Myers. All the disappointments, the defeats, the obstacles; they didn’t matter. Someday he’d be back, stronger than ever.
Wes hesitated for a moment. Eric was standing just inside the doors, his back tense and his head bowed. As Wes watched, Eric straightened, pulled off his school uniform jacket, swung it over his shoulder, and shoved through the door. He took a step to follow.
“Hey, Wes!”
Glancing behind him, Wes saw one of his friends from class coming down the hall. He frowned. “Yeah?”
“I guess that’s the last we’ll see of Myers. No loss.”
“What do you mean?”
“Haven’t you heard?” He smirked. “He’s leaving. Dropping out.”
“Dropping out? Why?”
“Hell if I know. Maybe he finally caught on that he doesn’t belong-”
Wes didn’t wait to hear the rest, just threw him an angry glare and ran through the doors. “Eric, hey, wait up!” he called, and trotted down the steps to catch up, blinking in the sudden brightness of the afternoon sun. “You’re quitting?” he demanded, some part of him hoping to hear a denial.
Eric stopped and looked back at him, his face hard and cold. “This place stinks! Bunch of lazy rich kids wasting their time.” He sneered. “I got bigger plans.” Lifting the backpack he was carrying, he shoved it into Wes’s hands. Turned, and started for the front gates.
“Eric!” Wes waited, but there was no response, not even a look back. He watched until a building blocked Eric from his view, surprised at his own keen sense of loss, as if someone very important to him had just walked out of his life, probably forever.