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Alex knew where he’d find her— beside the fountain near the playground, photographing the reflections produced by sunlight on the water. He knew she liked that place best because it was quiet, and the only people she ran the risk of running into were too absorbed in their thoughts to pay any attention to the pretty blonde girl squinting into a camera.
He liked it there too. True, it wasn’t the beach (something about the soft crash of the waves comforted him), but the cheerful splash of the fountain and, more importantly, the familiar comfort of Haley’s presence were enough. She was a breath of fresh air that he easily pulled into his lungs and a comforting shoulder to lean on when his shoulders weren’t strong enough.
Strength. It always came down to strength.
“I don’t get why you take so many pictures of the same stuff. You’ve been pointing that camera at the water for five minutes. You waiting for it to change colors or something?”
Haley jumped, nearly losing her grip on the camera. She turned and glared at him. “Don’t scare me like that. I’ll get gray hairs before my twenty-first birthday.”
“Please,” Alex sat on the edge of the fountain and reached out to tug at a glossy lock. “We both know I’m gonna go gray before you.”
“Oh, trust me, I’m looking forward to it.”
“What, so you can gloat more?”
“You’re one to talk about gloating.”
Alex huffed. She was right; there wasn’t a person in Pelican Town who hadn’t heard (from him) about his epic gridball skills, how much he could bench, or why it was an absolute honor to meet him. He had to admit it: he certainly loved to boast. He had to— he was the jock, the confident one, lovable despite his ego because, at the end of the day, he was strong. When Pierre needed a shelf installed at his shop, Alex was there to lend a hard-working hand. When Mayor Lewis needed someone to push his truck out of the mud during the rainy season, Alex couldn’t be there faster. He was reliable, sturdy, and diligent.
He wasn’t a failure. He wasn’t weak, and if his dad were there to see it, he’d surely-
“Hey, quit zoning out on me.”
Alex blinked. Haley was waving a well-manicured hand in front of him, her forehead puckered in worry. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” he responded. “Sorry, just…just got lost in my head again.”
Haley sighed and plunked onto the fountain beside him. “I’ve warned you about what happens when you do that. You’ll get frown lines before you’re thirty.”
“Me? Never.”
“It’s true. Your face will get all creased and crunchy-looking.”
“I guess you’ll have to be the pretty one in our friendship then.”
“I already am.”
It grew quiet for a moment. Alex hoped she would drop it there and pretend that frown lines were actually his biggest problem. He just wanted a distraction, and she could provide that.
“I worry sometimes,” she began. Alex cringed.
“Haley, I really don’t-”
“I worry,” she continued. “Because sometimes you get all distant and spacey, and I know what you’re thinking about when you get like that. And what you’re thinking is wrong— you know it’s wrong.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Haley groaned. “Then what else do you want to talk about? Because the only other thing in that head is gridball and exercise, and I refuse to listen to another rant about improper use of scoring penalties in the last game, so what else do you want to talk about? I get worried sometimes, Alex.”
“There’s nothing to be worried about.”
“Bullshit. We’ve known each other too long for you to act like there’s nothing wrong.”
Alex stood, shoving his hands roughly into his jacket pockets. “You said it yourself. There’s nothing in the noggin except sports and working out.”
There was a brief pause, capped by a long sigh from Haley. “I didn’t mean that.”
“No, it’s true.” Alex had started pacing, a tiny little march from one end of the fountain to the other. “I’m just…that guy. I’m cool with it.”
He ignored Haley’s piercing stare. “And so what if I get spacey sometimes? People expect that from me. Hell, I think they’d be worried if I started sounding like Elliot and his schmamby pamby little mouth. I bet he couldn’t even fix that stupid shack he lives in anyway, his hands are too pretty. I’m not like that, I’m no fruitca-”
“Aaaand I’m gonna stop you right there, buster. I don’t want to ruin these nails when I smack that bigot shit out of your mouth.” Haley appeared calm, but she was gripping her camera so tightly that it appeared to be crying for mercy. Her jaw was clenched, and Alex immediately felt sick to his stomach. When had his dad started taking over that train of thought?
Guilt curdled in his gut like sour milk, and he ceased his pacing. It would wear holes in his sneakers anyway.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean it.”
Haley raised an exasperated eyebrow. “I think you did.”
He was silent. He could hear his dad shouting, could smell the liquor on his breath as he shoved Alex against a wall. His six year old brain was confused and didn’t understand why Daddy kept screaming at him. Something about maggots. Something else about his best friend Darren. Darren was bad; he’d held Alex’s hand and Daddy said that made him bad. Young Alex still didn’t understand: was Darren sick? Was that why they couldn’t hold hands?
Years later, standing in front of a fountain, beside a very pretty girl that Alex should have feelings for but didn’t, he’d grown to understand what had made his father so angry. But he wasn’t that; he couldn’t be. He was a gridball star; he lifted weights and fixed trucks. He wasn’t like Elliot, with his shiny long hair and elegant hands that had never seen dirt. He’d proven his dad wrong, hadn’t he?
“You’re doing it again.”
Haley was right— this time, he’d really spaced out. He hadn’t even noticed that she’d pulled him down to sit beside her and was rubbing his back.
“That was a shitty thing to say,” she murmured.
“I know.”
“Why’d you say it?”
Alex shrugged. “Guess it kinda slipped out.”
“That’s not an excuse.”
“I was mad, okay?”
“So what?”
“So what? So– Jesus, Haley, I’m sorry, alright?”
She withdrew her hand from his back and turned to face him directly, her blue eyes narrowed in anger. “No, it’s not ‘alright’. That. Was. A shitty. Thing. To say. Especially knowing that my sister is also–”
“I don’t care that Emily’s…you know…”
“Pan?”
“Yeah, that. You know I don’t care.”
“Do I?” she glared at him. “Do I really? Because when stuff like that comes out of your mouth, it makes me wonder why we’re even friends, Alex. I know I’m not perfect; hell, the whole town barely puts up with me, and that’s fine. I’m Miss Rich Bitch who hasn’t earned a single thing in her life, with a sister who’s fun, and charming, and works her ass off to keep herself sane in this tiny town! I know what I am. But Christ, every time you say something like that, it’s like you’re determined to make yourself as unlikeable as possible.”
She paused.
“No. That’s not it. You’re scared.”
Alex felt his face heat up. “Of what?” he snapped.
“I think you know.” Haley leaned in and looked him right in the eye. “I think you know.”
Alex avoided her gaze and quietly fought the nausea that had been steadily rising. He didn’t care. He was strong. He had to be strong.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He forced some cheerfulness into his voice. “But I’m really sorry about what I said earlier. It was shitty.” He stared at his shoes, and faintly noticed that he was having trouble making out the glossy lettering on the sides: it had begun to grow dark. “I’m just having a bad day, I guess.”
The air felt thick and full of static. The crickets had begun to chirp, filling the space between them with background music that rang too loudly in Alex’s head.
Haley sighed. “I feel bad for you.”
“Don’t.”
“I’m your friend. It’s my job.”
“Haley-”
“Please. Let somebody worry about you. Just once.”
He stared at the ground and watched as a small line of ants marched past the toes of Haley’s shoes. The grass had taken on a strangely reflective quality, and as the green stems began to warp and bend, Alex realized with horror that his eyes were wet. His throat burned, and he stared resolutely at the ants, which had begun to resemble dark splotches of paint. Shame burned red splotches into his cheeks as the first tear hit the dirt, splashing a dark splotch that bled and grew.
If Haley had noticed (she must have, she noticed more than people gave her credit for), she didn’t say anything. She only sat there, a soft, steady presence beside him. She offered no jab, nor were there false words of comfort; Haley was just there. And Alex loved her for it, loved her as a brother to a sister.
He wished he could love her in a different way. But something in both of them knew that that wouldn’t ever happen.
His father’s words filled his ears like sticky tar, dripping into his skull where they clung in messy gobs. The tears were falling faster now, dripping in hot trails down his cheeks and splattering onto the ground and the knees of his jeans. He was silent, begging his burning throat not to make a sound.
He didn’t even know why he was crying. That was the worst thing: here he was, bawling like a toddler, and there wasn’t a single good reason for it. What if the townspeople saw him like this? He could picture the pity on their faces, the simpering, condescending embarrassment that Alex, the cocky guy with the loud laugh and bulky frame was crying in a park over nothing.
He was stupid.
He was weak.
He was an asshole, and no matter how hard he tried to prove his long-gone father wrong, he just couldn’t do it. Sometimes, he would look in the mirror, and the face that stared back at him was familiar in all the wrong ways: the square chin, the harsh eyes, the angry brows. All he needed was the stink of whiskey and the image would be a perfect replica.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, but after a while, the knees of his jeans were soaked, and his head was on Haley’s shoulder. Her hand had resumed its gentle circles on his back.
“You’re not him,” she whispered. “You’re not.”
Alex snorted.
“You’re my friend. My only friend, if I’m being honest. And- and I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through, but I do know that underneath all that junk and macho shit, you’re scared.”
“I’m not-”
“You are.” she gripped his hands where they were clasped. “You’re fucking terrified. Of not being ‘man enough’ or whatever other mess is going on inside that giant head. But I need you to listen to me.” At this, she squeezed his hands even tighter. “You’re enough, Alex. You’re enough.”
He blinked back a fresh wave of tears.
“Do you want to really tell me what’s going on? Without any dumb posturing?”
He stared at the grass and waited for it to come back into focus. Haley would be patient; she always was with him.
With a final snuffle, he pulled his head from her shoulder and nodded solemnly. She let go of his hands and folded hers primly in her lap. Waiting.
“It’s- well, it’s a lot.” His gaze did not leave the ground. “The anniversary of my mom’s death was yesterday.”
“I remember. You wanted to be left alone.”
“I did. And…I was. But, well,” he fidgeted with a loose thread of denim. “That new farmer guy found me at the beach. And I was kinda crying over my mom.”
Haley’s mouth formed a silent “Oh”.
“I ended up venting about it to him a little bit. I don’t know why, but he just made me feel so…at home. I felt safe around him. And he listened. Like, he really listened to me and didn’t say anything. I haven’t– I haven’t felt that way around anybody in forever.”
Alex risked a glance at Haley. She was attempting a neutral expression; it was a failed attempt. A strangled chuckle spilled from his throat.
“And, yeah, nothing really happened. He just sorta sat with me. Like you’re doing. But it was different. And when he left, I made him promise not to tell anyone what had happened. And you know what he did?”
“What?”
“Nothing. He just smiled at me and nodded. He didn’t ask any questions or try any of that sympathy bullshit. He just accepted it. Then he left me alone. And a few minutes went by, and then I realized something.”
A ball of something was pressing down on Alex’s chest, and he wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but it felt uncomfortably warm. He wasn’t sure if he could get the next few words out.
“What was it?” Haley prodded. She sounded cautious, like she was worried he might jump from the fountain and run. The idea had its merits.
“I-” Alex’s hands had begun to shake. “I missed him, Haley. I wanted him to come back and listen some more. And then I thought about it, and I realized that over these last few months, I’ve been wanting to listen to him too. I want to talk with him for hours about gridball and the stuff I like, but I also want to hear about the things he likes. I want him to show me how he plants those poppies that Penny loves so much, and I want to make him laugh. Christ, I fucking stared at him and Sam for almost ten minutes last week because Sam was telling some dumb joke, and that farmer was practically crying because he was laughing so hard. And I realized that I wanted so badly to be Sam in that moment.”
Alex realized his face had heated up considerably, and his voice had begun to shake. “And the worst part of it is…I can hear my dad. Every time I think about that damn farmer, there’s my dad, calling me a fa-”
Haley yanked him into a bone-crushing hug, stunning him into silence. He froze, unsure of what to do. She only squeezed him tighter. Finally, he relented and sank into her embrace, sniffing back the tears that threatened to spill over once more.
They sat there for a while. Just holding each other.
After it had long since grown dark, and the playground was lit by the glow of moonlight, Haley finally pulled back and wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye.
“Your dad is gone, Alex. He’s gone, and fuck whatever he said. You’re here. I’m here. You don’t owe him shit.”
Alex grunted. “I wish it was that easy.”
“Me too,” Haley grinned wearily. “But you’re strong. I believe in you. And you’ve got a shoulder to cry on. Literally.”
Alex stared at her. A laugh choked its way out of him. “Literally?”
“Literally. And, well, if it helps,” she hesitated, then seemed to make up her mind about something. “I’m a giant lesbian, sooo…”
The expression on his face must have been something to behold, because Haley burst into hysterical laughter, snorting and shaking as she pointed at him. “Oh my god, your face!”
“Hey! What about my face?”
“You should’ve seen it, holy shit.”
“Seriously? Right now?”
With a final giggle, she wiped her eyes and smiled nervously. “Yeah. Right now. Anyway, before you made that very rude expression–”
“I can’t control my face!”
“--I was meaning to say that you’re fine with me. And everyone else in this stupid town. Your shithead of a dad was the only one who gave a damn. So,” she shrugged. “You like the farmer. No biggie. Pretty sure I heard Abigail gushing about him yesterday, so you’re not the only one.”
Alex frowned. It wasn’t really about the townpeople– right? Or maybe not? His brain felt too muddled and thick. His throat and eyes hurt from crying, and his hands were still sort of shaky.
But there was another feeling. A kind of lightness in his stomach, as if a stone that was previously there was being removed, piece by delicate piece. He needed to go home and do some thinking.
“Haley?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m tired.”
“Hi tired, I’m Haley.”
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, dumbass. See you tomorrow?”
He got up. “See you tomorrow.”
With that, he ruffled her perfectly styled hair and sprinted off, grinning to himself as she squawked and shrieked at him for ‘ruining a perfectly good hair day’.
Somehow, he felt that things were going to be alright.