Saturday, July 31, 2010

Part 2 - "...and I'm beginning to think I hate you."

Jesi called me on Friday, as I was coming home from dropping Fenton at the bus station. His parents live upstate and yes, I bought the ticket for him.

First, though, I vowed to quit saving him because I was quickly running out of the last check I'd gotten from selling a piece and at the rate I was going, who knew when the next one would be in.

“Hey,” Jesi said, cheerfully, a lot of noise behind her. “I'm having a party tomorrow night.”

“God wouldn't like it if he caught you drinking.”

“Who said anything about drinking?” She laughed. “And what the fuck would you know about it anyway?”

I laughed, too. “Are you inviting me then?” I asked. “Or just calling to gloat?”

“Depends. Will you come?”

“Depends. Are you asking?”

“Conditions, conditions,” she sighed. “I'm asking if you'll say yes if I do ask. That's what I'm asking.”

“And I'm asking if you're asking so that I'll know whether to answer truthfully. Because if you're only asking about asking--”

“Are you gonna come to the damned party or not?” she interrupted me.

I grinned into the phone. “What's it for?”

“I dunno. It's small, just a few people. I guess, technically, it's an Alan Cumming marathon.”

“How can you have a marathon for a guy who's only starred in like, two things?”

“You just can. Then it's even more fun because you're stuck watching really shitty movies just for his little corner bits.”

“Watching really shitty movies for five minutes of value is fun?”

“Yes. And you're coming. So, be here at nine.”

“What movies am I stuck watching?” I asked, sighing dramatically.

“Titus – Andronicus, that is--”

“I know what movies he's in, Jes. I want to know which ones I'm stuck having to watch again.”

“Well, then let me tell you!”

“Just spare me the details, huh?”

“Titus,” she said again. “Josie and the Pussycats, Anniversary Party, Spy Kids, Eyes Wide Shut and Spice World.”

“Eww.. pick ALL the shitty ones, why don't you?”

“You're still coming. Bring a bottle of something vicious.”

“Who said anything about drinking?“ I grinned.

“Dover,“ she said sternly. I could just see her free hand on her hip.

I laughed. “Well, why? Are we taking shots every time he appears on screen? Because, if that's the case, nobody will even get a buzz.”

“Hahaha... ha. Ha. Ha,” she said, sarcastically. “Dover, you are, like, the funniest person I know!”

Silence as I smirked and she probably glared into the phone.

“Tell Fenton he’s coming too,” she said.

“He's gone to his parents. But I'll be there,” I paused as a thought hit me. “Uh, Jes?” I said, tentatively.

“Yeah?”

“This isn't one of those parties you set up in order to set me up, is it?”

“Set you up?” she asked. “Of course not! You know me better than that.” There was a very sloppy grin on her face and I heard it. Loud and clear.

---------------

I went back to Club 11 that night, trying to forget that Fenno hadn't called me as promised.

All fucked up emotionally, I drank copious amounts of alcohol and procured some coke from the guy Fenno says he gets his best stuff from to compensate for my terrible mood. Combined, I was quickly a disaster, more than ready when that blonde kid from Tuesday night reappeared out of no where.

“Hey,” he said, slithering up to me at the bar with cool hands and a very bare chest. He was grinning all over the place.

I must have been pretty pathetic at that point, because he had me at “hey”. I went with him, danced until I thought I would pass out, throw up or both and before long found myself groping, slurping and generally making a horny male out of myself in the back room.

His pants were at his ankles, I was up and ready to go, when the phone in my right pocket began to ring.

Damn Fenno for his impeccably BAD timing. Unholy distraction, I'm telling you.

I reached into my pocket and shut the whole thing off, first making sure that it was, indeed, him, then leaned back against the wall and groaned miserably. Which blended perfectly with all the sheer ecstasy around us.

“What?” Blondie asked, looking back at me. He must have seen my face through the black lights and smoke, because he automatically went into distress mode. “Come on. Please? I need you SO bad.” He was wrapping himself around me and licking at all exposed skin, breathing heavily.

“I-I can't..” I mumbled, incoherent both from the constancy of Fenton in my head and from trying to drown him out. I pushed Blondie off and shoved rudely past he and everyone else in my way. He followed me all the way to the door as I redressed and stomped, rather sloppily, around people on the dance floor.

“Just one fuck?” he begged. “I won't tell anybody. If you have a boyfriend--”

“No,“ I said, shaking his hands off. I kept walking.

“Please?” This time, he grabbed my shirt and pulled desperately.

I whirled around (well, as good as a thickly inebriated person can whirl around) and looked at him. “How old're you, kid?” I slurred.

“Eighteeen,” he whined. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?” He glowered and for a split second-- he was all Fenno. His hair a mess, face twisted into a scowl, his eyes bright with fury. Beautiful and slight and... Shit.

I shook my head purposefully. “Go home. You're little. You don't need all this shit.”

His glare turned darker and he shoved me a little, sheer petulance in his voice as he said, “What the fuck do you know about anything anyway?”

I turned on my heel and started back out, wondering basically the same thing,

--------------

I wandered around for a while, being careful not to attract any undue attention that might garner a friendly arrest for public drunkenness. Really, I should have gone home, especially considering the coke in my system – I tended to get pretty paranoid about things like that – but I needed to think. And right then, that overrode everything else.

It was late. If I hadn't been so fucked up, I probably would have called Jesi or rung Fen back, but I knew that if I did either in such a state, I'd only make a complete ass of myself. And I didn't feel like having pieces to pick up in the morning as well as a completely confused love life.

I wandered until I ended up in Central Park and sat down on a bench just inside. Well, more like fell.

After that, I don't know what happened, but I woke up some hours later, still on the bench, covered in puke, severely hung over, to the sound of my phone in my pocket.

I somehow dug it out, but it cracked against the pavement below me and I had to fumble for a few more seconds before I got a good grip on it.

“Uhhnn?” I groaned into the general area of the mouthpiece.

“Dover..?”

I cracked my eyes open against the day and saw a very pale light – dawn, already? – before shutting them tightly again.

“Wha'?”

“Dover?” It was Fenno. “Are you all right, baby?”

“Umm.. I don't know...”

“I tried calling last night, but--”

“Yeah...” I interrupted, drunkenly. “I shut off my phone when you did.”

“What? Why? Are you all right? Did you go out last night? You sound terrible.”

“Leave me alone, Fen...”

“Are you upset with me, Dov?” I HATED his barrages of questions. They pissed me off. He knew I hated it, too, but it was so firmly ingrained in his personality that there was no arguing about it.

“I can't remember. I'll, um... call you back.. when I do.”

“Any idea when that might be?”

“No.” I flipped the phone shut and tried to focus only on breathing.

What seemed like two seconds later, but must've been 5 or 10 minutes, the phone rang again.

“Whaa-aat?” I whined into it.

“Hey.” Jesi.

“Whaat?” I asked again.

“Well, fine, if you're going to be that way. Get your ass to my apartment. Right now. Come on. My aunt is gone to The Hamptons for the weekend so she can’t complain and Fenno's worried sick.”

“Then he can call me back and talk to me.”

“Don't make me come find you,” she said, firmly. “Come here right now. I'm exhausted and it's too early to play games.

“I'm fine! Leave me be.”

“Dover.” Her simple use of my name was enough.

I sighed in defeat.

“I think...” I sat up and forced myself to open my eyes and look around. “I'm in Central Park... I'll.. I'll be there in fifteen.”

From where I was, Jesi's aunt's apartment was only about six blocks, ten at most. I stood up, looked down at myself and took off my shirt, abandoning it on the bench. Then set off to get my bearings. At worst, I'd have to cross to the other side of the park, but a quick assessment told me I was well into the eighties and on the East side, like I was supposed to be.

I was still too out of it to be very embarrassed by my state of undress and the disgusting stench of puke and alcohol emanating from my clothes, hair and breath. I stumbled all the way and somehow found Jesi's apartment building without getting lost.

She was standing in the doorway in her pajamas when I came out of the elevator. She smiled at the guy manning the elevator and waved. Leave it to Jes to break all social rules of etiquette and get to know The Help.

“Get inside here right now,” she said to me as soon as the elevator doors closed again. Like I was a little kid in trouble. “You are a wreck. Look at yourself.” She tugged me into the front room and shook her head at me, shutting the door behind us. “You don't do these things, Dover Allen. You do not go out and get this fucking pissed with strangers. You just don't. If you’re going to do it, you do it with friends. Always. It’s a wonder you didn’t get arrested for public drunkenness being out there all night like this. What the fuck were you doing in Central Park anyway—wait, don't tell me. You passed out there? Come with me.” She led me into the kitchen. “Take off those pants. They're awful. Where did your shirt go?”

I shrugged. She was making me feel genuinely ashamed and I didn't like it.

She rummaged through cupboards for a while until I saw her come up with a bottle of whiskey and a can of coffee. She started the coffee perking and then looked across the bar at me, my head on my arms.

“Take those pants off, Dover. In a minute, you can shower, and then we're both going to bed.”

“Can I have some Tylenol?”

She nodded. “Stay here. I'll see what I can find. And get your jeans off.”

I heard more rummaging and bumping around as I closed my eyes and blindly stumbled out of my pants.

“This will have to work,” she said, footsteps coming back toward me. I opened one eye and saw a bottle of Nyquil.

I shook my head miserably. “I'll throw it back up.”

“It's all Aunt Beverley will take. She says pills make her choke. Besides, it wouldn’t do you any harm to throw up some more, I’m sure. And this stuff is absorbed more quickly. Take some and I'm going to give you some food to go with it.”

“What's going on in here?” I heard a sleepy male voice and my head popped up. Here I was,thoroughly hung over, with a girl, in only my underwear, and now there was a strange male in the room. Could the morning get any more ridiculous?

“Nicky, you remember Dover, don't you?”

Nick rubbed his eyes and yawned, nodding in recognition. “The one who showed up last time I was here, looking for inspiration on some piece he was writing about the similarities between sex and religion?”
Oh, God... A flash of recognition hit me, too and I turned red from ear to ear.

He just looked at me and chuckled.

“Dover, I know you remember my brother Nick,” Jesi said, turning to me.

I groaned and plopped my head back onto my arms.

“How did that piece go anyhow?” Nick asked, a smirk still audible.

“Leave him alone,” Jesi shoved him out of the way of the fridge and stuck her head in. “He's a little fucked up right now and doesn't need your tormenting.”

“I can see that. Are you getting him some coffee?”

“I know what I'm doing. Shut up and fix yourself breakfast or something.”

Nick lifted my head out of my arms and looked at my face for a moment. “He may need to throw up again worse than he needs coffee,” he observed, his voice gentle. “You aren't looking too good there.” He pulled my left eyelid down and I jerked away in protest. “Hey. Hold still. Fourth year med student. I have a vague idea of what I'm doing.”

“Vague?” I moaned.

He pulled my eyelids down again and nodded.

“When was the last time you threw up? You reek of it.”

“Sometime before I passed out?”

“Do you feel like you should again?”

I shrugged.

He hmmed and gave me an appraising look, raising his eyebrows.

I sighed in defeat and nodded. “It hurts.”

He nodded back and came around the bar, leading me off the stool and down the hall. “We'll be back in a minute,” he said to Jes.

I couldn't quite remember – my brain was still sloshing in alcohol – but I thought I remembered Nick being, well... registering on the gaydar somewhere ambiguously between Kevin Spacey and Ross the Intern the last time I'd met him. Rolling that thought around, I let him lead me by the wrist to the bathroom.

“Come on, you're going to throw up. Get it out of your system. You'll feel ten times better.” He pushed me carefully down to my knees on the floor and knelt behind me.

I wanted to ask him where he got off, who he thought he was, what exactly he thought he was doing. But it didn't matter, because two seconds later, he was jamming fingers down my throat and I was gagging furiously. He jammed them again and I felt a burn rising in my chest. Once more with a hard squeeze to my stomach and I was spewing frothy slime into the toilet.

And once I started, there was no stopping it. I puked until I was dry heaving and he lifted me back to my feet, smacking my back hard. “Breathe,” he told me. “Take a deep breath.”

It took effort, but I caught my breath and leaned back against him, exhausted, but feeling better. Ten times better.

“There you go,” he said, patting my back now instead of bruising it. “Not exactly orthodox, but it's what my father did when I came home drunk in high school. Any better?”

I nodded mutely and he smiled.

“Take a shower then and you can have coffee when you smell more approachable. I‘ll bring you something to sleep in.”

As he left and I turned on the shower, I began to wonder if it was possible to be madly, furiously in love with a person you’d barely just met.

----------

I drank the whiskey and coffee and ate the cereal Jesi gave me then took two tablespoons of Nyquil, after Nick approved it and thoroughly insisted.

Then Jesi whisked me off to her bed, my hair still wet, and lay down with me for a while, her arm over me. The way I held Fen when he was upset.

Jesi was good to me.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

“Hush. Sleep the rest of it off. I'll wake you up in time to go get dressed for the simply fabulous party I‘ve planned. At which you are strictly forbidden any alcoholic substances.”

I huffed a laugh and felt her squeeze me tightly before the Nyquil pulled me under.

----------

The combination of whiskey and coffee, Nyquil, puking furiously and ultimately, sleep, left me feeling a little more alive when I woke up around 3:00pm to Jesi's cool hand against my face.

“Rise and shine,” she said in a sing-song voice, brushing hair out of my eyes.

“Wha'time'sit?” I mumbled. I propped myself up on one elbow and rubbed at my eyes.

“Time to get up. Come on. Nick said he'd drive you to your place to pick up some clothes.”

Aww, shit... Nick.

“No, no.. I'll just take the subway. I'm okay.”

“Let him drive you. He volunteered of his own free will.”

A light bulb flashed and I fell back on the bed, groaning. “Who else is coming to this party?” I whined.

“Why?” She asked. “Just people. Who cares? It'll be fun.”

“Who else is coming?” I asked again.

She sighed. “Peter and Brien, Oliver and Julia, Giovanni and Fiona, Theo, of course. I'll need someone to make out with.”

I nodded, concisely and rolled over, groaning into the pillow.

“What? What's the matter with you?”

“Nick and I,” I said, matter-of-factly. “This is a Nick and I thing, isn't it?”

She gasped. It was wholly unbelievable. “I would never--”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “You filthy liar,” I shook my head and playfully kicked a leg at her from underneath the covers. “It's incredibly You to get together with your boyfriend and a bunch of other couples, leaving two single people to stare awkwardly at the floor during the mushy parts of the movies, wondering if they actually might have had a chance at something had they been left alone about it.”

“It's not a set up!”

“Well, now that I've figured you out, the least you can do is quit lying.”

She glared at me like I was supposed to believe she hated my guts. Have I mentioned that, despite working in the theatre district, she's the worst actress I know? Good thing that's not what she's going for or I might be the one stuck breaking the news.

“You don't get a whole bunch of couples together and throw in two single people who just so happen to share the same sexual leanings. Not without specific intent. Sorry. Doesn't happen.” I sat up and yawned.

“I invited Fenno and NOT his sleazy boyfriend man! That blows your theory out of the water. See?“

“You want me to believe you didn’t know he was going to see his parents when you asked me? You want me to believe you didn’t use him for this very reason?“ I laughed. “The two of you talk constantly. Don’t tell me you didn’t concoct the whole thing without his help.”

“Well, you're still coming. After I nursed you back to health this morning, it's the very least you can do.”

“I never said I wasn't coming.”

“Anyway,” she went on. “Nick's the one who put me up to it.”

“Nick?” My eyes went wide. “Nick put you up to it? Why?”

“Because he likes you, moron. Why else? What? Did you think maybe he asked me to throw together some party with a bunch of couples and invite you out of the blue so he could make it a point to ignore you?”

“Who knows? I don't know him. Maybe he's sadistic. He did gag me this morning, I should point out. A rather uncivilized thing for a gentleman to do.”

She laughed. “You're right, whereas passing out in Central Park is very civilized. Not to mention classy and sophisticated.”

I grinned and stood up.

“Wear those over there.” Jesi pointed to a pile of clothes on a chair in the corner. “Nicky said they'd hold you until he took you home. He's making lunchish dinnerish.. something.”

I nodded and she left while I dressed.

He'd left me a button up shirt, jeans and a pair of flip flops, all of which were a size or two too big. But they were nice clothes and I was grateful for them. Bending over to stare at myself in her mirror, I studied my complexion. Still a little greenish, my eyes a bit sunken in and dark circled, but overall, after a night like the one I'd had, I looked pretty damn good.

I left the flip flops until it was time to go, and padded barefoot into the kitchen.

“Sleep well?” Nick smiled at me over what looked to be pretty simple spaghetti.

The smell made my stomach growl, a reminder of the fact that I hadn't eaten since the afternoon before.

“Mmn,” I shrugged, leaning down to smell the meat frying. “Looks good.”

“Spaghetti is good comfort food,” he said, nodding.

“How is lunchish dinnerish coming along?” Jesi asked as she came through, pinning her hair up with a pencil and stopping to kiss both our cheeks.

“Linner,” Nick corrected.

Jesi rolled her eyes, turning to me slightly. “We used to make up words when we were kids. The thing is, though, I stopped using them once I got to middle school. Nicky here, he still uses all of them.”

“Hey, if you say them the right way, people figure you know what you're talking about and they don't ask any questions. It makes me laugh.”

“You make me laugh,” I said.

He turned and flipped me off, smirking.

Turns out that Nick is an incredible cook. I mean, I like spaghetti. It's good most of the time. But this spaghetti was magical.

And, come to think of it, so were his eyes. He kept looking at me all through linner.

We sat on the floor to eat and talked about books and when Nick was graduating and what I was writing about. Toward the end, the conversation made a quick swerve toward Fenton.

I'd been saying how he was driving me insane and I couldn't get any writing done as long as he kept being so stupid that I had to worry about him constantly.

“Is he doing any better?” Jesi asked me, once my spiel ran out.

“Not really. He's begging money off his parents and I'm sure they'll give it to him just so he goes away. They always do.”

“They always do?” Jesi raised her eyebrows. “What about the bus fare you funded--”

“Have I told you yet today about how you give out way too much useless, irrelevant information?” I asked her, sticking out my tongue.

She stuck her tongue out at me and then grinned.

Nick looked between both of us with a smirk. “Sounds like what he needs is a kick in the butt,” he nodded, decisively. “Not to be spoiled rotten.”

“He is spoiled rotten,” I said.

“And you're both angels,” Jesi grinned between us.

--------

Sam was at the apartment when we swung by for my clothes. It was a disaster, as usual, and Nick noticed. But I blew it off, figuring he'd never have to come back or put up with it again anyway.

“Where've you been?” Sam asked me as I walked past him to mine and Fenno's bedroom.

“I don't know. Around. Haven't seen you in a while either.” I dug through the closet, Nick behind me, picking things up as I threw them and folding them neatly over the foot of my bed.

“I was in Connecticut with Nora. I thought I told you? Yeah, I took her up there to propose and everything and then, like... she totally flipped out when she found out I was arrested three months ago for all.. like, selling drugs and stuff. And she dumped me. She won't even pick up her phone or anything.” He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest.

I threw a shirt at Nick for him to hold, and caught his eyes widening. Not with fear or anything approaching it, but more just surprise. Like maybe he'd judged me differently than I was. Like maybe he didn't expect me to be living in this super shitty apartment with this ex-drug dealer and Fenno, who had been officially termed a “spoiled brat” not an hour earlier.

“You'd only been with her, what? A month? You were already going to propose?” I cocked an eyebrow at Sam and continued to dig in the closet for shoes and jeans.

“Man, she was It though! She was so awesome. I don't think I'll ever fall in love again after this.”

“Yeah,” I said, throwing pants at Nick and grabbing some leather shoes. “You probably won't. Tell Fenno I have my phone on if he calls you.”

And I brushed past Sam, Nick still behind me.

“Hey! Aren't you gonna stay any longer? Who's this guy anyway?” Never one inclined toward manners, Sam pointed at Nick, who smiled and freed a hand to shake. Sam just looked at the hand like he had no idea what it was out for and knowing him, he probably didn’t.

“No,” I said shortly. “And this is Nick. Jesi's brother. Later.”

I stalked out the door so quickly that I lost Nick along the way and had to pause in the elevator, my hand against the door, waiting.

“What was that all about?” He asked when he appeared a few seconds later. “Is that your room mate?”

“That's the one I try to avoid,” I said, nodding, pushing the buttons for the ground floor.

“You were both so... polite to each other.”

“You know how roommates are,” I sighed.

“Makes me wonder why he'd want to live with you.”

“Why he'd want to live with me?! He's the drug dealer!”

“And that doesn't ever work to your advantage?” Nick smiled at me. A very irresistible smile.

I stepped out of the elevator ahead of him, to avoid having to make any eye contact, and to hide the flush rising to my cheeks. “So?” I said, a little petulantly.

“Just don't try passing yourself off as some clean cut little Christian missionary kid, huh?” Nick said. He handed me my clothes and opened the car. “'Cause I'm not buying it. Not for a second.”

“Are you a Christian?” I asked, suddenly. Both trying to change the subject, and genuinely wondering. He'd said the “Christian” word with a twinge of scorn that had me curious. “Did you and Jes grow up that way?”

“We did grow up that way, yeah. But our parents are a little more... should I say... orthodox? than Jes or I could ever hope to be. I'm...” he paused for thought before continuing. “I'm a... Christian in the loosest sense of the modern word. Christ just had a lot to say that I agree with is all. So... whatever that means.” He shrugged and we pulled away from the curb.

“Hmm,” I said.

My phone rang and I didn't even wait to check who it was, just lifted it to my ear and said, “Fenno?”

“Are you all right?” the quiet voice on the other end asked, softly. “I was so worried, Dover...”

“Why?” I asked. “About what?”

“I called this morning and you practically hung up on me. It wasn’t even nice, Dover.”

Damnit. I‘d totally forgotten he‘d called. “Did I make you cry?” I asked gently.

He giggled a little at that and I heard him sniffle. He cries at the drop of a hat, that one. “No,” he lied. “I was just worried. I called Jesi. She said she'd take care of you.”

“She did. I miss you. What's up? Are you coming home tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I'll be home tomorrow around three or four.” He sounded sad. He sounded scared. He sounded... numb?

“What happened, Fenno?” I asked, my eyebrows furrowing.

Nick glanced over from the steering wheel to look at me, also seemingly concerned.

“Nothing.” I heard a forced smile. “Nothing, baby. Really.”

Liar.

I sighed, deciding I'd just wait until he got home to talk it out of him. Poor little thing. His parents had probably laid into him again. “All right, kiddo,” I said. “Well, I love you, okay? Be safe coming home. How are your parents?”

“Um.. shitty, I guess. As usual. I'll be safe. And, Dover?” his voice cracked.

“Fenno...” I said, gently. “Fenno, honey, what's the matter?”

“Nothing. Really, nothing. It's just my parents, you know. I just wanted to call and say I love you, too. And, um.. I'll see you. When I get home. Okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, good. I’ll see you soon, Fen.”

He clicked off first and I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath before closing my phone.

“What was that about?” Nick asked.

“He sounded upset about something,” I shrugged. “But he wasn't talking. S'got me all worried again.” I shook my head as if he were more trouble than he was worth. Which he wasn't, of course. But I think Nick knew that.

“He was probably just in a place where he couldn't talk,” Nick said. “I'm sure he'll be okay. And you'll see him tomorrow? You'll have lots of time to talk then.” Nick seemed sure. He seemed convinced enough for me, too.

I nodded.

“Jesi says no alcohol for you tonight, huh?” he smiled at me.

“I don't know. She told me to bring a bottle of something vicious, but...”

“You probably had enough viciousness last night to last you for a few weeks. I don’t think she expects any bottles from you now. Anyhow, this party sounds horrible. I say we ditch it.”

I looked over at him to see if he was serious.

He grinned, definitely looking it.

“Jesi'll murder us.” I laughed, looking out the window.

“What? Me? The care taking older brother? She can’t do anything to me, I saved her from too many bullies in grade school.”

“Aww. Don't tell me, she was the sweet little chubby one in glasses who was always annoyingly right about everything?”

Nick threw his head back and laughed at that. “Yeah, it's near impossible defending someone who's constantly their own worst enemy.”

I smirked, nodding. “Yeah.” I could relate more than I wanted to.

----------

“Do you dye your hair?” Nick asked me as I took the gel he offered.

“This? Not so much. Sometimes I highlight.”

“This shade of brown comes naturally?”

“Oh, don't flatter me,” I chuckled. “It makes you sound all silly and smitten.”

He grinned and shrugged. Like maybe he didn't care. Like maybe he was doing it on purpose.

“One hour,” he said. “I think that's all I can stand.”

“But then what will we do? It'll be 10:00. What happens at 10:00? Nothing good really starts until at least midnight. Not on a Saturday night.”

“Who knows? But we’ll have the city of Manhattan to ourselves on a Saturday night, Dover! How can you even question whether or not we'll be able to entertain ourselves? It's boring people that can't entertain themselves. And you would have to be incredibly, ridiculously boring not to be able to entertain yourself in Manhattan. Boring people just can't take New York. There's too much to do. It's too hard to be boring here.”
I eyed him up and down and gave him a look that said something along the lines of, “I didn't ask for a recitation of The United States Constitution.”

He grinned at me unapologetically and took his gel back to fix his own hair.

---------

Couples are dull if you're not a couple. At least, in groups they are. Jesi and Theo were about as exciting as it got and all they did was drink too much and say sarcastic things to each other.

Granted, they could have taken their act to, I don't know... maybe somewhere like Branson, Missouri. But everyone knows that Branson is only for the remaining family members of Lawrence Welk, ancient country western singers, and all of the old people who used to like both of the above. I told them so and they laughed. I kept a straight face and drank my coke in silence until they stopped.

More interesting, however, is that no matter where Nick was, he didn't stop looking at me. He looked at me over the top of his wine glass. He looked at me at intervals while he was having some lively conversation with Peter and Brien. He looked at me the whole time during Jesi and Giovanni's argument about theology and when Julia and Fiona brought out their knitting and everyone else was complaining that they might as well just leave if they weren't going to participate in conversation, Nick was still looking at me.

Of course, I knew this because, well, I was looking back. It would’ve been pretty hard not to. His eyes just pulled me in with this expression of sheer interest. Like maybe he was trying to figure me out. Like maybe he seriously thought that eventually, if he looked hard enough, he'd be able to.

---------

About ten thirty, we’d both had enough. It’s not that I don’t love the crowd Jes had invited, they’re my friends too, it’s just that in big coupled off groups like that, everything is geared toward a couple-ish crowd and… Nick and I were bored senseless.

Nick stood up and shoved his hands decisively into his pockets, strolling toward his jacket. “Jesi?”

Jesi stopped laughing at Oliver’s imitation of the photographer he’d worked with all week and turned, eyebrows raised.

“Dover and I are going to go have sex in the back room of a sleazy club now,” he said. He shrugged into his jacket casually, as though announcing something like that to a room full of people were the most natural thing in the world.

“Umm… you boys have fun,” Jesi said.

Everyone else just looked at us. From Nick to me and back, wondering if I was going to stand up and follow him, or…

“It was nice.” I stood up and went for my jacket as well. “Thanks, Jes.”

They all watched us in a sort of stunned silence as Nick held the door for me and we waved, smiling.
Outside the building, he started to laugh and then I started to laugh and when we finally caught our breath, I looked up at him, both of us panting and smirking. He was handsome. He was very, very handsome.

“Where to?” he asked as we started walking further uptown.

“Unless you’re looking for rich, fat old men and their houseboys, I’d suggest we head this way,” I spun on my heel.

“Lead the way.”

--------

Over coffee, we discussed home. We talked about our parents and about Jesi. I tried to stay off the topic of Fenton, but Nick brought him up and I couldn't help it. I told him how we'd met at a club and tried to do the dating thing, but I just couldn't hold him down. And then – God KNOWS why – I launched into how I felt about him and how angry it made me that he didn't realize it, and that he didn't seem to care how much it scared me when he put his life in jeopardy.

“He doesn't know how you feel,” Nick said, simply. “He just doesn't know.”

“Of course he knows!”

“Have you told him?”

“Well, no...”

“Then, assume he doesn't know. He's not a mind reader, you know.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, thanks for notifying me. Really useful piece of information there.” I glared at my feet and nursed my coffee in annoyed silence for a few minutes.

We were at the apartment, on the living room floor, backs against the wall, his arm around me.

Breathing deeply and feeling a shiver go up my spine from the hurried intake of caffeine, I leaned against him and he squeezed my shoulder.

“How do you feel?” I asked him, as quietly as I could.

“About what?”

I rolled my eyes. “Take a wild guess.”

He smiled and smacked my arm gently. “Lose the grouchiness, huh?”

“Try not being so ridiculously condescending next time then.”

“Hey, I wasn't going for condescending. It just doesn't seem healthy for you to pine away after this kid who's obviously not interested and even if he were, how are you going to tie him down?”

“He needs me!” I protested. “Even if he doesn't know it...”

“I don't doubt that,” Nick went on, treading this ground very carefully. “But he may never realize how much he needs you. And if he doesn't, what does that mean for you? Life long loneliness? Besides that, is it more healthy to be a relationship you need to be in? Or one you want to be in?”

“What are you getting at?” I asked irritably. I was tired and he was bugging me.

He squeezed my shoulders and kissed my cheek. “How I feel about you.”

I was still leaned against him, but ONLY because it felt good. At that point, I was pretty annoyed.

“Well...?” I demanded.

“Well, right now, I'm edging toward feeling that you're being pretty irritable,” he commented, his voice calm and maybe a little amused.

“And I'm beginning to think I hate your guts.” I pulled away from him and stood up, stomping to the kitchen.

“Come back in here, Dover,” he called, sounding completely unaffected by my tantrum.

“Why? All you're going to do is lecture me.”

He came through the kitchen door and put his cup on top of a massive pile of plates next to the sink. “How often do you get away with pitching fits like this?” he asked.

“I'm not pitching a fit! I'm keeping you--”

“What?” he cut me off. “Out? Away? At a comfortable distance?” He took the coffee cup out of my hand and pulled me into his chest to hug me. “Is that really what you want? For me to stay far enough away that you’ll be comfortable?” He paused. “And alone?”

I swallowed hard and shut my eyes. “I don't know what I want,” I said petulantly.

“I think we could still stand to lose the tone,” Nick reminded me.

“I'm going to go to bed.” I stood up and made move to stalk to my bedroom and let him figure himself out, but he grabbed me.

“Stop,” he said, firmly.

“Stop what?! Stop being confused?! Stop being utterly incapable of making any of my own decisions without ruining everything?! Stop--”

In one smooth motion, he jerked me forward, putting a hand at my neck and the small of my back and kissed me. Hard.

After that, it was hopeless. Emotions soaring, caffeine in full swing. We barely made it to the bedroom.

-------

I'd had a lot of casual sex up until that point. Fenton and I would even fuck each other if we were horny enough and it had been long enough since we'd had anything good and proper.

Nick told me he'd done it. Had casual, meaningless sex. Maybe twice, he said. But I looked him up and down and, frankly, started to laugh. He was definitely saying that for my benefit.

Right before we did it – The Big It – I considered whether or not this was like cheating on Fenton. But really, it was too late by then. The door was shut and our shirts were off and well, Fenno was out of town.
Besides, we had no claims on each other, Fenno and I. Nothing even remotely resembling claims.

Nick slept that night in my bed, me in Fenno's usual place against the wall and Nick in mine. It felt good to be the one being held for once. To feel enveloped in someone else's strength. I'm not sure I realized before then how difficult it was to always be the strong one, to always be around to pick up the pieces and hold them together.

“What does this mean?” I asked before we drifted off. “What are we now?”

Nick chuffed a laugh in my ear and squeezed me tightly. “Something,” he said. “We'll figure out what in the morning.”

“What if I die in my sleep?” I nudged back against his thighs and worked my way as deeply as I could into his arms.

“Lie still,” he said. He seemed like the sort who expected to be listened to.

I did, but I persisted in questioning. “What if I die in my sleep?”

“Then I'll plan your funeral. Anyway, at that point it won't have mattered what we were. You'll be dead. What would you like to be buried in?”

I laughed then, sleepily, and let myself drift off, trusting his hold on me.

--------

My cell phone rang somewhere around nine AM and Nick nudged at me, mumbling to go and answer it so it would shut up. I told him to shut up and plastered myself against his bare chest, both of us immediately falling back asleep.

It rang again around ten and then eleven and finally, at eleven thirty Nick got up to answer it despite my sleepy protests that he stay in bed and keep me warm.

I admired his ass while he bent to pick the phone up off the floor and came back to bed.

“Hello?” he yawned.

I cuddled up to his side as soon as he got back underneath the covers, knowing I'd have to take the phone from him in a second.

But he didn't hand me the phone, he just listened and his body went rigid under mine as he tightened his grip around my shoulders.

“Hold on, hold on,” he said, soothingly. “Slow down, Jes. Yes, this is Nicky. Kiddo, slow down, you're not making any sense.”

I sat up immediately and grabbed at the phone against his ear, to which he simply jerked his head away, putting a hand to my chest and giving me a look that told me this was serious and he was dealing with it, thank you. I stopped and watched for a while longer until the creases in his forehead deepened even further.

“What's the matter?” I demanded. All he was doing was listening and with no one-sided conversation where was I supposed to get clues as to what the fuck was going on? “What happened?” I asked.

“All right, Jesi. All right,” he said. He put a finger to my lips and glared at me, meaningfully. “We'll be in there two seconds. No, don't you go anywhere... No, I said.” A pause. “I'll skin you alive if I get there and find you gone, do you hear me? You'll wish you'd never seen me this weekend. Yes, I know, darlin'. All right, promise me you'll be there when we get there. Promise me. Yes, I know. Give us fifteen minutes. I love you, Jesi. Yes. Stay where you are and I'll see you in a minute.” He had his eyes closed and was holding the bridge of his nose like this was more than just some typical, drunken call of distress. Like this was something big. Something huge. Something... He flipped the phone shut and looked down at me.

“Where are we going?” I asked. “What's going on?”

“Up,” he said, simply. “Put some clothes on, Dov. Don't ask questions right now, I'll tell you on the way.”

“Tell me now! I'm not just going to traipse off with you to who knows where at the drop of a hat. I need some information.”

“I'll transfer some information to you via physical pain if you don't get out of that bed and put clothes on. And that's not a threat either, Dover. I'm saying that this is important and I need you to come with me. Do you hear that?” He was already up and in jeans, lacing his shoes on his feet without socks. He looked up and made eye contact with me.

“You'll beat me up if I don't go?” I gasped. I mean, I'd known the guy, what? A day and a half? Well, technically longer, I guess. But only technically. “Yeah, that really makes me want to follow you around the world and back. Thanks. I think I'll stay in bed.”

He stood up and threw his shirt over his head. “What I am saying is that you'll be sorry if you don't listen to me. Now, get. Up.” He threw my jeans at me and then a T-shirt and flip flops. “I'm going to go get a taxi. You have about thirty seconds to get dressed and get downstairs.”

I opened my mouth to protest and he literally dragged me from the bed and smacked my bare bottom several times.

I looked at him in horror, shocked that he would ever, ever do such a thing. THINK such a thing.

“How DARE you--” I gasped.

“I'll dare to do you a lot worse if you don't get your act together. I wouldn't be flipping out myself if it weren't important. Now, stop the fucking around and get. Fucking. Dressed.” He landed one more swat, gave me a Look, and walked quickly out the door and downstairs.

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” I demanded, angrily as soon as we were in the taxi.

“I should ask the same thing of you,” he said, solemnly. “Don't pull anything like that again, do you hear me?”

“TELL me what is going on!” I nearly shouted.

“Lower your voice, Dover.” His was soft and very stern.

I really couldn't much help but obey it.

“Tell mee..” I whined quietly, edging toward his side of the back seat. I was mad at him, but I didn't want him mad at me. Well, I sort of did. But only sort of.

“Look at me.” He lifted my chin with his index finger and searched my eyes for a few seconds before moving forward. “This is going to be hard, Dover.” Hard? How hard? All my attentions focused on him. Everything was just moving so fast. “Are you listening to me?”

I nodded.

“Fenton ODed last night and he's at Johns Hopkins.”

My heart seized up, I couldn't breathe or move or think. Everything he said after that was a fuzzy blur of words completely incoherent to me. Something about picking Jesi up at home and going to the hospital and..

“They don't think he'll make it any further than tonight.”

I gave up the strong bit and collapsed on top of him, in tears.

---------

Fenno never made it to intensive care. He died in the ER, alone. They pulled back the sheet to let us see him once they'd called his parents.

Nick didn’t want either Jesi or I to see him dead, but they needed someone to identify the body and Nick had never met him.

He was badly beaten, almost unrecognizable. His eyes were black, his shirtless chest covered in lacerations and bruises. Ribs broken, they thought. One lung puncture definitely contributed to his death, they said, but ultimately, it was the drugs that did it.

I looked at him for all of about five seconds (it felt like an eternity and I still can’t get the image of his face out of my head) before I stumbled out of the room and threw up in the hallway.

After that, I was a disaster. Completely and utterly fucked up. Fenton was my family. I mean, I had family. In Utah. But if you know anything about the Salt Lake area, you’ve heard the word “Mormon” and if you know anything about the Mormon church, you’d have a general idea of what I’m up against. First of all, as a homosexual. Secondly, as an artist who left the church in favor of New York and “The World”.

I tried to lean on Jesi, but of course she wasn't doing very well either. And I know I pushed her away, but they hadn't been as close. They hadn't shared the same bed for the past three years. They hadn't fucked and held and kissed each other.

Three days later, in a haze of emotion, I slashed my wrists in the bathtub and woke up a week after that in the hospital.

Jesi didn't come to see me much, but I know that Fenno's death was still weighing heavily on her mind. I think she was more angry with me than anything. That I would add to the trauma. That I would be so selfish. But, I guess, you come to a point where you just don't see those things anymore. Where the only way to go is out. Permanently.

The autopsy showed that Fen had been raped – most probably after he'd been drugged – then beaten. He was found a block away from Tem's apartment in Queens, bleeding to death on the sidewalk. Coincidence? I think not.

Nick stayed by my bed all day, every day, until they released me. By then, summer break had started and he kicked Sam out of the apartment, had the whole place cleaned spotless, and moved us in there. Jesi came too, but she was sad. And perfectly quiet when I was around.

Nobody really knew what to say to me. Even my own family barely called anymore.

Nick held me at night while I cried. He kept Jesi and I from each others' throats, made sure I ate on a painfully regular basis and forced my pills into me when I refused them. He had to grow up fast for me. And he did it well, without too many extra grey hairs or wrinkles. Just a major power trip and a fairly serious control complex.

In short, our relationship, incredibly new as it was, had taken a very sharp turn toward “unconventional”. And, quite frankly, that was the only reason that I survived those first two or three months. 1

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