He loved Huck.
In the way that Tom was told should've been possible only with a man and woman.
And the thought made his heart race in the best and worst way. His arms and legs were aching with adrenaline and the need to run from all of this, and the warm air was cold, freezing, on his skin. It all made him feel sick.
Tom went home. And then he was alone with the afternoon hot air on his skin. What was he to do?
He couldn't go to the woods-- he would just think of Huck. But, oh, how he needed to see him. He needed the friendship he always offered. He... Tom couldn't. He needed to stop relying on Huck. He needed to stop wanting to see him.
But he realized he was already moving, already running, to the woods. And he couldn't stop himself.
His feet moved him along, and he was stuck. He needed his best friend. He needed help.
Tom continued. He could keep himself contained like he could before, right? And Huck might not even be there. His feet hit hard against the ground, pounding quicker than his fast heart, pushing deeper than his staggering breaths. He just needed advice. What to do about Becky. ...Tom just couldn't say the whole story.
The air was hot on his back with this afternoon sun, and eventually it vanished into the cool shadows of the woods.
And he moved through it as if it were years ago and he was chasing after Huck and Joe one of the days they played hooky from school. Everywhere Tom looked in these woods, he could see memories.
Tom slowed, without realizing it, to a stop. His breaths kept panting, pulling air out from his lungs and he just couldn't breathe. He was in their spot. Sunlight streaked through the breaks in the branches, down into this area in trees, and it was almost golden. Huckleberry sat under one of the trees. Tom's heart beat harder. He wanted to rest. He wanted to sleep all this away and just stay in that expanse of night that would keep him calm and safe and untroubled.
Huck turned to him and met his eyes, and Tom's heart staggered. Tom kept panting, breathing so heavily because he couldn't do anything else.
"You okay?" Huck asked. His voice was so comforting and warm and Tom nodded quickly, despite his breaths and his turning stomach and everything in him saying no. "You sure? Why'd ya run here?" Huck said. Tom couldn't explain that.
"I..." Tom fell to the ground, sitting against a tree. He took off his schoolbag and ran a hand through his hair and kept it there. "Well, she said no." Tom said.
"Oh." Huck said. Tom saw something shift in his eyes and face for a moment-- a brightness and a reflection of the light-- and then it left back to before. "Sorry, Tom. That's rough." Huck said. Tom could see him lean his head back against a tree and close his eyes.
"Why are you here?" Tom asked.
"...I had to think. You?" Huck asked.
"I don't know-- I needed advice." Tom said. He stared at Huck because he needed to see his face and because he couldn't do anything but stare.
"On you and Becky?" Huck asked, and he looked at Tom again. Their eyes stayed staring at each other. Tom wished he knew what was in Huck's eyes that he didn't know. "...Are you alright with that? With her saying no?" Something in Huck's voice made Tom pause, made him overthink.
"I... I don't know." Tom closed his eyes. "Huck, I don't know if I can even talk about this." Tom said.
"Spit it out, Tom. I got my own things to think on, too. You complicatin' everything." Huck said. He wrung his hands, and then got up. Tom nodded and watched as Huck walked slowly and sat next to Tom. And then Tom could feel his warmth next to him, and he couldn't focus on anything else, and it felt like Tom couldn't breathe. What happened to just being friends; what happened to Becky being the only one for him? He had to push this down.
"I... I think I was glad that Becky said no." Tom said, and he closed his eyes tightly. He focused on his heartbeat in his throat and on Huck's steady breaths beside him.
"Glad? Well, then, what's your problem, Tom?' Huck's voice had something in it but Tom didn't want to open his eyes to see his face, and Tom wouldn't be able to tell what it was, anyway.
"I'm not supposed to be glad. She said she said no because of me and because apparently I'm not happy." Tom said. His stomach was just so uncomfortableâthick and turning. He needed to leave all of this.
"So, you ain't happy." Huck asked.
"I guess not-- I wasn't looking to marry her when I proposed. I just wanted to make everyone else happy."
"Well, just stay together without marryin'. I don't get your problem, Tom."
"She wants to marry. She wants a kid and a husband and a life. And I ain't ready for none of that." Tom said.
"You don't gotta do everything at once, Tom." Huck said. The air compounded in Tom's lungs.
"You don't get it." Tom said.
"I don't get it?" Huck asked back. He looked at Tom, face-to-face, and then Tom was suffocating and his face was hot and he could only hear and feel Huck's breaths and nothing else. "Tom, you got a girl and a family. There ain't nothin' wrong with your life right now. You don't gotta marry her right now, anyways. Just wait a bit-- that's what every one's saying, innit?" Huck said. Tom swallowed dryly.
"Huck, things can't just stay like this. I..." Tom shook his head. He turned away from Huck. He felt a magnetization, a feeling like he was in water and being pulled, pulled up.
"Why not?" Huck asked. Tom felt bare.
"Huck, I..." Tom took a breath and stopped. He wasn't even sure he loved Huck the way he convinced himself he did. Despite his pounding heart and his uneven breaths and everything feeling so overwhelming.
"Tom." Huck said it sharply, and Tom just had to meet his eyes. "You don't have to solve everything at once." Huck said, and left it. Tom knew the conversation was over. He was supposed to be with Becky and only Becky. They sat together, too close. Huck was still staring at him.
"So, um... You said you were thinking on something before I came."
"Ain't nothing, Tom. Just a little confliction."
Tom met his eyes again. Huck sighed and switched one pensive expression for another. Tom saw a look that made Tom vanish into himself. There was warmth in it, and something that made Tom dizzy and feel lifted and overwhelmed. It was the best thing Tom had ever felt, that look.
And then Huck smiled, and Tom smiled back.
But then he remembered that he had Becky, and he felt sick.
"I... I shouldn't be here." Tom said. Huck's scent, his eyes, his smile, everything about him was too much. Tom staggered up. His heart was too fast.
"Tom?" Huck asked. His voice was so, so soothing and calm and deep. This was his best friend. And all he wanted to do was kiss him. Tom picked up his bag and slung it around himself. The ring burned through the bag and through Tom's skin and he just felt so cold. Tom ran before he could think.
"Tom!" Huck shouted, stirring from his spot, watching Tom run. And Tom did run-- that beautiful voice just made him leave faster, because it was too much. No matter how good, how heart-racing, how comforting it was to be with Huck, Tom had to stay away from him. He had Becky.
He got home and his breaths were acidic and thick and dry. His heart ached.
Tom opened the front door. He went up to his room, hearing the creaks of the stairs underneath him. He was so trapped.
Tom went into his room.
Sid was in there, looking through his bookshelf.
"What are you doing, Sid?" Tom asked. He couldn't get mad-- If he showed anything and let anything out, he would show everything. There was exhaustion in his voice, though, and Sid could probably hear it; He turned and looked at Tom.
"...I like looking at these journals." Sid said. Tom came closer to the bookshelf, and Sid stiffened for a moment but still stayed. Tom looked at the one Sid was holding.
"What's even in there?" Tom asked, seeing the scraggly handwriting through the pages.
"It..." Sid looked at Tom confusedly, seeing the distraught in his brother. "It's-- It's one of dad's." Sid said. Tom's stomach turned.
"What?" Tom asked, looking closer over Sid's shoulder to see the sharp handwriting.
"It's on your bookshelfâ you knew it was here, right?" Sid asked.
"No." Tom said. "Well, uh," Tom swallowed. "Is that what you've been reading every time?" Tom asked.
"Yes." Sid said.
"What's it say?" Tom asked. He couldn't read the uneven lines and the scraggling turns.
"It's from when he met my mom." Sid said.
"Oh. Well," Tom ran a hand through his hair. He didn't know what he had been hoping for, but either way, there was a pit in his stomach. "You can take it if it means you won't come in here anymore." Tom said.
"Wow. Thanks, Tom." Sid said, looking up quickly from the journal.
"Now get out." Tom said, and Sid left quickly, closing the door behind him.
All at once, the vacuum of the feeling was there. He was finally by himself with his thoughts.