When The Storm Subsides (Vam) (4/?)

All these years beneath the skin
Everything inside me turning to the shame.



Going back to school on Monday was the last thing I wanted to do. After the funeral, I'd done everything in my power to avoid anyone I knew. I was afraid that I was going to walk through those glass double doors and be met with taunting laughter. Everyone knew my big secret, that I'd been in love with another guy. Dunn kept telling me that everyone had had their suspicions anyway. If that was supposed to make me feel better, it wasn't working.

It was about eleven o' clock on Sunday night when I decided to sneak out and go for a walk. Where I was going, I had no idea. I left the house without a sound, skipping every creaky step and floorboard, then turned left instead of right like I usually did. Had you asked me at the time, I'd have sworn up and down I wasn't going this direction because Ville lived that way. The truth was, that did have rather a lot to do with it. I felt that maybe being near him would make everything okay. I was starting to scare myself, thinking like that.

Of course, nearing his house, I hadn't expected Ville to be outside. He was though, sitting on his front porch, strumming an acoustic guitar by the glowing light of a dozen candles. I stopped dead in my tracks and just stared. He didn't look up, didn't even realize he was being watched. There was a thick notebook in front of him, a pen lying on top of it. He looked slightly frustrated and in deep concentration as he tried a different chord and wrote it down, scratching out the one before it. He put the pen back down and tried the chord one more time before playing what I could only assume was the song he was writing. It was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever heard. I could hear him humming along softly; clearly he hadn't written lyrics yet. When he finished playing, he finally looked up.

"Bam!" he called, raising a hand and waving. "Come on up here you creep!" I laughed and started up the walkway, a chilly breeze ruffling my hair. Even though it was uncharacteristically warm outside, winter still wanted it to be clear that it was on its way.

"It's okay for me to be a creep, Ville," I said, sitting down on the step just below the edge of the porch. "You were a creep too, when I first met you."

"True as that may be, I didn't lurk on your front lawn while you were writing love songs," Ville said, snapping his notebook shut as I tried to sneak a peek at it.

"Love songs?" I asked, wrinkling my nose. "Gag."

"Oh, but you seemed to enjoy my rendition of a popular love song a few evenings ago," Ville said blithely. I felt my face heat up and was suddenly very thankful I'd chosen to take a walk at night.

"That was just funny," I told him, recovering quickly. He chuckled softly.

"Yes, I suppose it was," he said quietly, stretching his legs out so that his feet were on the step next to me. After a long pause, he said, "How was the funeral?"

"You haven't heard?" I asked darkly, determined not to look at him.

"I haven't been out much lately," he replied. "I'm a little under the weather. Stomachache. Now, answer my question."

"It was both the best and worst experience of my life," I said shortly.

"Best because...?" he persisted. I barked out a laugh.

"Don't give up, do you?" I asked, looking at him bemusedly. He smiled slightly and shook his head. I sighed and looked out across the lawn again. "Best because it was closure, you know? I saw that it's really happened, that Jordan's gone. I can start healing now, as Ape puts it."

"Ape?"

"My mom," I explained, grinning at Ville's look of bewilderment.

"Oh," Ville said, blinking at me. "Right. Okay, so, worst because...?"

"Worst because I sort of told everyone that Jordan and I were in..." I grimaced slightly.

"Love?" Ville finished gently. I nodded. I felt him put a hand on my shoulder and squeeze comfortingly.

"His mom asked me to speak, and at the last minute... well, I felt that Jordan would want people to know," I sighed. "It just came out. My friends and family are proud of me, but I think they're the only ones. School's going to suck now."

"Aww, Bammie," Ville said, scooting down to sit on the step next to me. "It's not going to suck. Give humanity just a little credit, hmm? Especially in these circumstances. Do you really think that many people are going to scorn a guy who just lost the person he was in love with?"

"I don't know where you're from, but people's brains must work differently there than they do here," I said bitterly. "At the risk of sounding melodramatic, I'm doomed."

"You are not," Ville said scoldingly, lightly slapping my knee. "Believe me, Bam, people both here in America and in Finland have some respect for those who are grieving. Sure, you'll get the occasional asshole, but you can handle them. I should know, you handled me quite well."

"That sounded weird," I snickered. Ville gave me a dirty look and an exasperated sigh.

"How old are you, Bam?" he asked teasingly.

"Old enough to see the innuendo you just used," I said with a grin.

"I didn't use anything, Bammie," Ville said with a yawn. "You're just a pervert, it would seem. A pervert who looks rather good in my clothes." I glanced down at the jacket, then narrowed my eyes at him.

"You just did it again!" I laughed.

"Oh doodley, it seems I did," Ville said, pretending to look concerned. "Perhaps I should get that checked." He caught my eye and giggled, a sound that was completely infectious. We both dissolved into laughter that was far too loud for the hour. We had just calmed down when a woman I guessed was Ville's mother opened the screen door and told Ville it was time to come inside. She smiled graciously at me before retreating inside the house again.

"She didn't ask who I was," I said, helping Ville blow out the candles on the porch.

"She doesn't have to," Ville said, placing his guitar back in its battered, sticker-covered case with the notebook. He picked it up and stood, smiling at me as I lined the candles up neatly on a table. "I've told her all about you, Bammie."

"Why?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Ville laughed quietly and opened the door, turning to look at me with that damn expression again, the one I couldn't name.

"Let me tell you a secret, Brandon Margera," he whispered. "You know that thing that Jordan felt for you? Well, me too." It was my turn to blink stupidly.

"Wha--"

"Shh, not tonight," Ville said, starting to go inside. Then he stopped and turned around once more. "I do mean it, though. You look great in that jacket. Feel free to hold onto it, if you like." Before I could even reply to that, much less ask the thousand questions he'd sent whirling around in my head, he stepped fully inside and shut the door.