Beautiful Graves

by L.J. Shen

“Because I love you. Because I don’t want to lose you again. Not ever again. I read about that Curt Richter experiment on my way here,” I tell him. “And I know all about the rats. The wild rats fought for their survival. They were savages. They didn’t give up. You’re my rat, Joe. I want you to be my rat. I promise not to land you in deep water ever again. From now on we’ll swim together.” I’m searching his face. All I care about is his reaction, not the massive public declaration I’ve just made. He blinks a few times, taking me in. He is still by the forklift. A good twenty feet away from me, at least. “How is this time different from all the others?” he insists. “How do I know you won’t walk away tomorrow? Or the day after? Or in a month? I can’t do this anymore, Ever. I can’t put my heart in your slippery hands.” “They’re no longer slippery!” I half beg, throwing my arms upward. “I swear. Sturdy as a surgeon’s. My only hang-up wasn’t about loving you—there was never any doubt in my mind that I loved you. It was about sparing you from the heartache of being with me. I thought I was cursed or something and didn’t want you to . . . I don’t know, I didn’t want anything happening to you, I guess. Like Mom and Dom.” Every single person staring at us looks lost, entertained, and a little disturbed on Joe’s behalf. Joe, himself, looks mostly exhausted. “Ever, you’ve put me through hell.” “I know.” “And you chose my brother over me.”