Ethan, Who Loved Carter (6 page)

Ethan looked puzzled, but he smiled.

After dinner, it was back to the sand castle. The tide had washed out part of it, but Ethan simply started over. Carter hauled four more buckets before he collapsed onto a towel. “I’m done,” he said.

“Okay.” Ethan picked up the bucket and began the slow walk to the water.

“Ethan.”

“Let him go,” Elliot said. It sounded like a warning, so Carter scooted over to help scoop out the moat as he watched Ethan from the corner of his eye. Ethan returned with the bucket three-quarters full, having sloshed out some of it, and beaming with pride.

“Next time you do it,” he said to Elliot.

“Whatever.” But when the time came, Elliot made the trip without being asked.

“The water’s cold,” Ethan said. “See?” From his sprawled position, he held up a pink foot.

Not thinking, Carter pulled it into his lap and rubbed. Ethan jerked like he was ticklish. “Sorry.” Carter let him go, but Ethan plopped the other one down. His toes were painted dark blue. Carter hadn’t noticed them before. He wondered if Ethan had done them himself.

“Do this one.”

Carter put on his best annoyed face, which made Ethan laugh. “Fine,” Carter said. “So, who were those people we saw at lunch?”

“My friends.” He didn’t elaborate, but as Carter was learning, with Ethan there were no qualifiers. Those people were his friends, pure and simple. He dug his thumbs into the sole of Ethan’s foot, which was a good three sizes bigger than Carter’s, not that he was thinking about
those
implications, not even when Ethan tossed his head back and moaned. Carter hurried to switch to another motion… one less
loud
.

Elliot returned with the water. He cast a glare at Carter. “Ethan. Thought you wanted to do the sandcastle.”

“I’m having my feet rubbed,” Ethan said.

Carter prepared to say that they should stop because Elliot was making him uncomfortable, but Elliot pivoted to put his back to them and continued working on the castle. Carter returned his concentration to Ethan’s feet. Despite his brother being a few inches away, Ethan’s moans didn’t lose any volume. Elliot put his earbuds in and pointedly turned up his music.

“Oh, he loves having his feet rubbed,” Liz said. Carter, already tense from Elliot, almost shoved Ethan’s foot away as she came up behind them like a beach ninja, but she leaned down and ruffled Ethan’s hair. “Hey.”

Ethan looked at her with a dreamy smile. “Want to stay here all day, Mom.”

“It’s getting cold, Buddy. It’s time to get a shower and put your clothes back on.”

“Mom….”

“Dad’s setting up a campfire.” Liz cut off Ethan’s whine. “He has a surprise for you.”

“S’mores?” Ethan asked. He sat up on his elbow, eyes bright and hopeful.

“Maybe.” Liz teased with her smile. She turned to her other son. “Elliot?”

Elliot turned around. He pulled his earbuds out. “What?”

“We’re moving to the campfire.”

“Yeah.” Looking put upon, Elliot got up. “Come on,” he said to Ethan and held out his elbow. He glanced at Carter. “You bring something to change into?”

“No,” Carter said. “I didn’t, didn’t know I nuh-n-needed to.” Elliot’s expression cemented Carter’s idea that he didn’t have a high opinion of him. “I’ll stay here and wash out the buh-buh-mm-uh-bucket and spade.”

“Whatever.”

In contrast, Ethan said, “Thanks, Carter!” and pulled Carter into an ecstatic hug. His soft chest hairs rubbed Carter’s cheek.

“Come on.” Elliot tugged Ethan away. They proceeded toward the changing facilities arm in arm. With all the bits of sharp broken shells in the sand, they navigated as if they were walking through a minefield.

Liz and Nolan began carrying everything to the car. “Do you need help?” Carter asked.

“We’re fine,” Liz assured him. After handing them the bucket and spade, Carter headed for the facilities. As he reached them, the door burst open. Elliot appeared, phone in hand. He noticed Carter and, for the first time in possibly the history of his life, appeared delighted.

“Dude. Watch my brother for me for a few minutes, all right?”

“Watch him do what?” Carter asked. As far as he knew, the only thing in there was a shower, and surely Elliot didn’t mean
that
.

“Just make sure he doesn’t fall down or anything. Help him with his clothes if he needs it. He likes crap with a lot of buttons for some reason.”

“Why aren’t you…?”

Elliot shook his phone. The display screen blurred with the rapid movements. “Girl. Awesome girl. Right there.” He pointed. Turning, Carter saw that indeed there was a girl. “So, you’ll watch him?”

“Are you coming back?”

“Sure. Oh and hey, don’t tell my parents all right?”

“Um.”

Elliot clapped Carter on the shoulder and ran off.

Trying not to think about earlier when he’d stood far too long in Ethan’s bedroom doorway watching Ethan with his shirt off, Carter entered the showers. Ethan stood in his underwear rubbing himself down with a beach towel with stars on it that matched the ones on his bedroom wall.

“Hi!” Ethan said, sounding so happy that Carter forgot to be embarrassed.

“Um, Elliot said to come in and see if you needed anything.”

“Oh.” Ethan’s smile fell. “Okay.”

“Ethan?”

“He doesn’t like….” Ethan motioned around his head and left the sentence unfinished.

“Oh. Well, it’s probably hard for him, I mean being a teenager and….” Carter trailed off, uncertain how to word what he wanted to say, but Ethan finished the sentence.

“Having a retard brother.”

Carter felt like he’d been punched because Ethan stood there like he hadn’t said anything devastating.

“Hey.” Carter grabbed Ethan’s arms, more for his own stability than Ethan’s. “He’s a teenager. They’re inconsiderate and selfish. He’d be that way no matter what you were like. And don’t call yourself retarded.”

Ethan brushed him away. “Fine.”

“Ethan.”

“Fine,” Ethan said again. He pulled on his shirt and reached for his pants.

Carter sat down on the bench, deflated. He stared at his hands. After a moment, Ethan’s hand appeared on top of his. “Dad makes great s’mores.”

Of course. Of course the world boiled down to chocolate and roasted marshmallows between two graham crackers. Carter cracked into jagged pieces.

Being the expert on controlling what his body wanted to do, he turned his grief into laughter.

D
AD
’
S
s’mores melted in Ethan’s mouth the second he took a bite. Closing his eyes, Ethan savored the gooey, warm chocolate-marshmallow paradise that spread over his tongue. The campfire had three gigantic logs around it in a triangle. Ethan sat between Carter and Rolla. All his friends from the caravan park had come, so he got lots of hugs. Horatio had his guitar. He played even better than Carter, but telling Carter that would be rude, so Ethan didn’t.

“Carter plays too,” Ethan said when Horatio took a break to have another s’more.

“Yeah?” Horatio had a crooked smile that always made Ethan laugh. He looked at Carter with it. Carter’s leg bounced.

“N-not in f-f-f-ront of of of puh puh—” Carter thumped his fist against his knees and his face crumpled up. Ethan had done a bad thing; he’d forgotten that Carter didn’t like playing for people he didn’t know—except he’d met Ethan’s friends at lunch, so he should be all right to play for them. He looked around to see if anyone could help, but no one did. Tears of frustration appeared in Carter’s eyes. They didn’t fall, but Ethan was close enough to see.

“We’re all friends here.” Horatio held the guitar out.

Ethan started to say that he didn’t have to, but Carter reached for it.

“Give him something to do besides twitch,” Elliot said. “Why don’t you take a pill for that?” Carter snapped his hand back. Horatio had given up his grip, and the guitar fell to the ground.

“I’m sorry,” Carter said.

“It’s been through worse, trust me.” Horatio picked it up and held it out again.

Carter didn’t reach for it this time. “I didn’t like how the pills slowed my br—my br—brain—” He stopped talking. Ethan followed Carter’s gaze across the fire to Elliot and the girl he’d abandoned Ethan for earlier. (She wasn’t that pretty.) They were both twitching, just like Carter, but it was bad music, and the girl laughed and Elliot had a cruel smile.

“Elliot!” Dad yelled and the girl laughed harder.

“Excuse me,” Carter said. He almost fell getting up from the log and stepping over it. Ethan got up too.

“Carter?”

“I’ll be with the car.” Carter walked away.

Ethan wanted to yell and yell. He stomped over to Elliot and punched him in his stupid face. If punching girls was allowed, he’d have hit the girl too. Dad grabbed him from behind and dragged him away.

“Ethan!”

Apparently hitting Elliot wasn’t allowed either.

“He upset Carter!”

“Sit
down
.” Ethan did, but he glared at Elliot, who rubbed his face and whined. The stupid girl stopped smiling, finally.

Ethan ignored the ruckus as Dad looked at Elliot’s face. He speared a marshmallow and stuck it in the fire.

“Ethan.” Mom guided the stick out of the flame. “I don’t think you deserve a s’more right now, do you?”

“Yes.”

Dad pulled two beer cans from the girl’s bag. Ethan tuned out the yelling that followed.

“Ethan,” Mom said. That tone only led to bad things like being sent to his room. Ethan put the stick down. Today sucked.

Dad finished talking to Elliot. Then he told everyone to wait while he and Elliot went to talk to Carter.

“He doesn’t want to talk about it,” Ethan said. “Leave him alone.”

“Ethan, it’s important that Elliot apologize.”

Ethan stood up and blocked them. “I don’t want Elliot to talk to Carter ever again.”

“Ethan.”

“No.” Ethan would fight if he had to.

Dad sighed. “All right. But Elliot, you’ll write him a letter to apologize. Understood?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, what?”

“Yes, Dad.”

Dad ruffled Elliot’s hair and gently shoved him away. “Let’s get this fire put out.”

“We’ll do that,” Horatio said. “Think we’ll stay a bit longer.”

“We should go before anything else happens.” Dad sounded tired. “Should be an interesting ride home.”

“I can take Carter if you want,” Frankie said. “I have a car. I don’t mind.”

“Yes,” Ethan said, “and me too.” He looked at his parents.

Mom put her hands up. “Sounds like a good idea.”

“Okay,” Dad said. “Thanks, Frankie.”

Ethan went to tell Carter. He hoped Carter would be happy.

M
OST
of the time Ethan used a cart at work to deliver food and refills to customers, but if the coffee shop got too crowded, he had to use a tray. He didn’t like to use it because of his balance problems. He dropped it the first time, caught up in the excitement of having a job, and stood sucking the burn while the shattered mugs and upturned plates lay at his feet while everyone stared.

He had a tray today. He concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Both hands on the tray, thumbs tucked as close to the edge as possible. Since the first spill, he didn’t carry hot beverages, but the coffee shop still seemed to double in size as he walked from one end to the other. Reaching the table he was aiming for, he set the tray down with a relieved sigh.

“Thanks, Ethan,” Mike said. He took his sandwich off the tray. Sometimes people expected Ethan to set their plate on the table for them. The worst was when there was no room to put the tray down.

“You’re welcome,” Ethan said. Mike came in every day and he always talked to Ethan. He was really nice. He was good-looking and about the same age as Ethan, but not Ethan’s type, which wasn’t to say that Ethan wouldn’t have sex with him if Mike wanted, but Mike never talked about stuff like that or complimented how Ethan’s pants fit, which was another way of saying that Ethan had a big penis. Ethan had told him about the car hitting him, and sometimes if he needed extra help, Mike offered to give him a hand.

Douglas sat across from Mike. He always had his hood up and he never smiled. He hardly ever talked, but he came in every day with Mike. Ethan didn’t like him very much.

Mike tugged Ethan’s sleeve. “We should go out sometime, Ethan.”

“And do what?” Ethan asked, curious.

“Anything you want. You like the beach, right?”

“Sure!”

Mike grinned. “Great! Well, when this rain stops, we’ll head out there.”

“Okay.” Ethan grinned back. “I have to go back to work now.”

“Sure thing.”

Ethan walked away feeling buzzy and happy. The feeling dimmed when he heard Douglas say, “What the fuck are you thinking?”

Ducking into the back of the shop to avoid hearing the rest, Ethan scrubbed his eyes to get rid of the stupid tears that had popped into them.

At least he had going to Carter’s to look forward to. He went over every day after work. Carter hadn’t left his house since they went to the beach together. He said he had a lot of work to do, but Ethan didn’t think that was the only reason. Elliot’s teasing had really hurt him. Ethan understood about wanting to hide out with hurt feelings, so he didn’t pressure Carter to get over it. That never helped.