They went to church again.
The candle lights glowed yellow like before. Tom was wearing his nice, pressed clothes, and he could hear the rustling fabric with every step he took towards the building. Sid still always stared at him with concern-wasn't he convinced, yet? Weren't they all convinced?
Tom didn't know when he would stop this act-probably never, to keep Becky happy-but he was so tired all the time. The type of tired where he laid in bed, eyes closed, but couldn't get his mind to still because of all the worry he held all the time. The type of tired where he felt a darkness swallowing him every moment, and he stayed silent in the moments he could, or else it would consume him and his eyes would overflow from their stinging, and they would know. They would know that he was pretending, that he wasn't happy, and they would ask why. And he wouldn't be able to answer that.
The candle lights flicked in their waves, in their breezes. Acolytes went by to the front, mingling and talking with everyone who came. Aunt Polly whispered to Tom to sit with Becky. Sid still looked at him strangely.
Tom nodded and pretended he felt normal, taking slow steps towards Becky and their friends and her father. Tom realized he had never asked her dad for his blessing. Tom ran a hand through his hair, feeling fatigue, feeling a dry heat. Tom came up to Becky. Laid a hand on her shoulder. His eyes were focused on the ground, making sure it wasn't spinning, making sure he kept his composure. Tom looked up to meet her eyes. She turned and smiled at him then went back to talking to their friends. Tom felt that he was staring too much-he looked up from her. He saw Huck again.
They were staring at each other, now. Eyes wide and clear and meeting, as if they hadn't seen each other in all those weeks it had been since... Tom blinked, and Huck looked at Becky's hand. Looked back up. Huck nodded slightly and gently pushed past Becky and them to stand in front of Tom, who felt his bones thin-felt the weakness in the air, felt the pressure of Huck's gaze.
"You did it." Huck placed a hand on Tom's shoulder. It felt distant. Huck didn't move his hand, and its warmth smoothed through Tom's arm. Tom realized they never talked about it after Tom married her.
"...You're not mad about the engagement?" Tom asked. Huck had that strange, undecipherable look on his face.
"Why would I be mad? You's happy, right?" Huck asked. Tom stared at him a moment longer. His breaths were shallow. He felt that darkness in his chest, draining him and making him feel so, so heavy. Huck watched him, and Tom realized he had just been standing there, frozen. Huck's hand was still on his shoulder.
"Uh-" Tom smiled quickly, fadingly, and nodded-"Yeah. Yeah, we're happy." Tom said, glancing over to Becky. His heart turned. Huck moved his hand away, rubbing his palms together.
There was a voice at the front telling everyone to sit down. Huck turned.
"Wait, Huck," Tom asked, and Huckleberry looked back at him. "Are... Are you?" He asked, and Huck smiled, looked down. He shook his head slowly, then glanced back up at Tom and nodded lightly. That wasn't much of an answer, but Huck went to sit down, so that's all Tom would get.
Tom sat to the left of Becky- on the other side of her was Huckleberry.
Acolytes moved to the front of the church, past the flickering candles. The service started.
The priest talked about roughly the same topics as always. Tom felt so close to Becky, and it was uncomfortable. It shouldn't be uncomfortable. Tom looked around. Saw all the neighbors he had seen his whole life, glowing in the candlelight, and he could smell the faint smoke from those candles-- He could smell a forest, and he knew it was Huck. All that was in his mind was Huck, just on the other side of Becky.
Tom wasn't listening, but he followed what everyone else was doing; They all stood up. The priest asked them to all pray. Tom closed his eyes, feeling the quiet pull through the room, and did.
He'd been doing it since he asked Becky to marry him. He prayed for a sign telling him to not get married. A reason to stop this path he'd been on his whole life, because he didn't want to do this. He needed a reason to betray all the people in his life, and felt God was plenty good for that.
He got nothing. They stopped praying and sat back down. The candles were so bright in Tom's eyes. They reflected off of faces and hair and walls. Tom glanced over at Becky, and she glanced back, smiling, before she looked at the Priest again. And Tom kept looking, his eyes drifting....
And Huck was bathed in that light. In the melding of all those small, yellow flames, glowing.
It lit the edges of his hair in a white-yellow and it shone off his eyes like moons. A rimlight of yellow like a sunset, like a sunrise, like fireflies, like stars collected. As if there was a sun behind him, fiery and numb and made of heat.
Huck turned his head, glancing back at Tom calmly. Tom looked away, though. Closing his eyes, feeling redness, warmth. He smelled that forest in Huck so strongly.
Becky was between them. Blocking them. And Tom knew, even with what he was feeling in his chest, even with the thrill of seeing him, even with the calm that came over him every time, he shouldn't be looking at Huck.
Tom could feel Huck's gaze still on him, but when he opened his eyes and looked back, Huck was staring ahead, face as unrevealing as ever. A pull was in his stomach. An ache like always. He could never be close with his best friend if he was always thing of him like this. Tom looked at Becky again. He couldn't keep doing this- he took her hand, trying to distract himself, and looked back towards the priest.
He tried to focus on the smell of the faint smoke instead of Huck. He tried to focus on the Priest's words to distract himself from his own thoughts. He prayed again.
The church service concluded.
Becky stood up and everyone stood up. Tom lingered for a moment, looking around, his eyes landing on Huck, who was also getting up, glancing at the two of them.
He could never place that boy: supporting, nice as he could be-nice as he wanted to be-- but Tom always felt like there was something behind it. Something that couldn't make this all there was.
Tom saw the expanse of everything in him. That's why he couldn't let this go.
Marrying Becky didn't solve anything because Huck would always be in the back of his mind.
Becky touched Tom's shoulder, and he stood up sharply. Smiled an excuse. She smoothed down her dress and reached her hand out, and Tom took it.
They lingered as everyone did, talking one last time with their friends. They stood in a loose circle- Ben, Joe, Amy, Huck, Becky, Tom. Becky was always between them, at least recently, Tom came to realize. She probably knew. Tom's blood ran hot, cold for a second. Maybe not? Maybe-Becky was looking at him. Tom looked back, squeezing her hand.
He had to talk to Huck again.
Tom knew this was just his... his crush. His feelings about Huck, however all-absorbing, shouldn't be his every focus. He didn't even have a reason, an excuse, to talk to Huck. He just always wanted to.
But, Tom thought, as everyone started walking out, there had been one at the beginning of the service-- was Huck really happy? He hadn't answered. And Tom wanted to fix everything before he fully married Becky. He didn't want to leave anything open and loose when he could've fixed it. When he could've chosen something else.
Marrying Becky really was not a good choice right now.
They walked out of the church as a loose group out into the town. Sunlight had spread into the sky that morning, but now, clouds were scattered in the air. Grey, swirling, rich. It would rain eventually. They needed a good rainstorm.
They all talked about things. Smiled, laughed, like normal. Tom could smell Huck and the humid beginnings of rain, and Tom looked over to him.
It seemed like every time Tom glanced over, Huck glanced back. And there was something in Huck's eyes that made Tom need to talk to him more urgently. They needed to clear everything up before Tom could move on.
The group separated off to their own paths. Becky kept her grip on Tom's hand, and Tom opened his mouth to say something to Huck-He started pulling away from Becky, taking a step- "Walk me home?" Becky asked, and Tom watched Huck go, feeling that disappointed helplessness. Tom's eyes lingered on him, but he made himself look over to Becky. He nodded. She looked in his eyes and in her face there was a tenseness. She smoothed her skirt with her free hand. They kept walking.
He didn't need to talk to Huck, anyway. It would be better if he kept his distance.
"How are you, Tom?" Becky asked. Tom furrowed his eyebrows slightly, looking at her.
"What?" Tom asked. She didn't often ask that. Tom didn't want to answer.
"How are you? We don't..." She sighed, looked around, taking slow steps. Other church-folk were around them, but distantly. "We don't really talk, Tom."
"What? Yes we do. We're talking right now." Tom knew what she meant. He knew how often he always messed up, how often he was a bad boyfriend, a bad fiancé. But he couldn't answer that question. If he said the words, bad, good, fine, things might resurface. He was already falling apart and stressed, and everything was crushed together in his chest, expanding, and if he gave the truth... He didn't want her to see him when he wasn't the best version of himself. "But, uh," Tom said, glanced at her, holding back everything he could, giving her a smile, "good." He said with a caged chest, a faint heart.
"Me too." Becky said, squeezing his hand. He didn't believe himself-he knew that-but he was sure of Becky's answer. She was always good.
They walked to her home, the soft air on their skin.
"I'm excited to get married." Becky said, watching him. It left a pang inside of him, but he nodded, smiled widely back at her.
"Me too." Tom said. The feeling in him swelled and turned in waves. He just wanted to fix everything.
He wanted the rest of his life to go smoothly, without all this tension and compounded sadness. He needed to wrap up his loose feelings, but every time he tried to fix things, he caused more strife.
All he could do was cause problems. He was an awful fiancé already.