Apathy Chic
Bobby came back. Out of the thousands of things that I expected, his coming back was at the bottom of the list. My mind could only see him leaving forever. We’d had sex once, more out of pity and mutual boredom than anything else, and I’d told him that I wanted to stay with him forever afterwards. I knew that it was stupid, that he’d most likely leave and I’d never hear from him again, but at the time it seemed like something that had to be said. He’d never been good at accepting other people’s admiration and love. Of course he left, muttering excuses about it being really late and having work tomorrow, leaving only a warm spot on the bed beside me.In some ways, it would have been easier if it had only been a one night stand. Then I could pretend that I didn’t need anyone else. That all I really needed and wanted was myself, not someone else holding me down and tearing me apart.
This was just weakness. And I hated that.
We were friends before. We hung out, went out to bars, talked about friends, relationships, jobs, over time I realized that I was thinking about taking things to a more intimate level than he was. He thought that we were just buddies, while I was mentally picturing him moving into my house and finally waking up next to someone in the morning who I wanted to be there. I kept all this to myself, not wanting to complicate things. I watched him go out with other guys and kept quiet, unwilling to change things for what I viewed as a crush that would go away. It was easier to deny it, find other guys who looked vaguely like him, and drown my sorrows in other flesh. I was comfortable with my homosexuality, I thought, but not with revealing my feelings to someone I trusted.
But he was here now, standing on my doorstep and peering through the patched up screen door. My neighborhood was a spotted area full of factory workers with cars slowly being eaten by rust and tires strewn across their front lawns. All of the houses had been built at least fifty years ago from the same gingerbread house mold and most were settling into the ground awkwardly. My house was one of the better ones, the white paint hadn’t all weathered off the siding yet, and the porch hadn’t completely rotted through. Someday I was going to get around to fixing it, but that day didn’t seem like it was going to come anytime soon.
Rain slicked down his face, caressing angles and lines that I had kissed a few days ago. Condensation collected on his eyebrow rings and he wiped at them nervously. His hair, usually one of his few vanities, was waterlogged and messed up instead of in its usual symmetrical black spikes. Usually he’d have a facial expression that made me think he was severely displeased with the world, his lips would be a thin line and his eyebrows settled in a frown. Now, though, they were more open and innocent, almost as if the rain had set some other side of him free. For a second I entertained the thought that his car had just broken down a few blocks away and he’d walked over in the rain so that he could call someone. Or he’d faked a car accident just to have a reason to ask to borrow my phone. I stood there for a moment and stared at him. Perhaps in shock. It took a while to realize that he was shivering and his lips were blue, while the rest of his skin was starting to pale considerably.“What’s wrong?” I asked. Stupid. Should have just pulled him inside and found some excuse to get his clothes off. Instead I was quizzing him while he was getting all hypothermic outside.
He didn’t make any movements to come inside. Just continued to look at me with eyes that said I could leave him standing out there forever and he wouldn’t complain. I touched his hand softly, letting my fingers curl around his, pulling him in gently. “I’m sorry,” he said finally, after I’d shut the door and locked it behind him. The streets were still covered in a sheen that almost could have been tears. Darkness painted over everything, and tried to seep underneath the door and latch itself onto his black leather shoes.
“What’s wrong?” I asked again, hoping that he’d tell me this time. All I got in response was him shuddering and staring up at me like an abandoned kitten, brown eyes wide and hollow. He was clutching his stomach and shivering.
“I...don’t think I can be alone right now,” he whispered. His fingers clenched in the wrinkles of his black shirt. He hadn’t moved that far away from the door and was standing in the hallway between the staircase and the living room. Posters of various music groups glowered darkly over his huddled form. He picked up one of the odd little statues I had on a table by the door and passed it between hi hands nervously. I noticed a few scratches on his knuckles, but couldn’t think of anything to say about them.
“Why not?” He was dripping onto the floor. Water cascaded down his jacket and I watched as the tan carpet fibers turned a darker shade of brown. All I got for a response was him shaking his head and holding his arms tighter. His fingers were turning white from the exertion. I moved a little closer, wincing as he started to jump away.
“I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”
“Um, do you want to change out of those? I can lend you some clothes if you want.” He nodded reluctantly, but didn’t make any moves. “You’ll have to go upstairs. Unless you want to change down here.” I said. The realization hit him suddenly and he followed me. I turned my head to look down at him, he was just shuffling up as if there was something holding him back. I didn’t know what was wrong, I wanted to help him so badly but I knew that I wasn’t capable of saying anything without it sounding like I was just pitying him.
We went into my bedroom. It was basically just my bed, a closet, and a door to the bathroom. I hadn’t had a chance to make it more homey, and after what had happened with him I wasn’t sure that I wanted to. We’d been in here before, but I didn’t want memories of that to poison things. He didn’t seem to be giving it any consideration. His form hovered in the doorway while I rooted through the closet for something that he could wear without looking completely out of place. I was a lot taller than he was and we weren’t the same size. Finally I found some things that could work and handed them to him. I started to leave the room but he caught my arm. “Could you please stay?” he said softly, his gaze still focused on the floor.
“You’re sure?” I asked, but he was already pulling up his shirt and...I don’t know what I expected. What I wanted to see. Maybe something to explain why he’d come here in the rain to see me, huge cuts, scrapes, the marks of someone hurting him beyond repair. But he was fine. A little skinny, but he was always on that side. His flesh was still a light tan color, it looked like it would be warm to the touch even though he was still shivering. I closed my eyes. This wasn’t the time or place.
“C...could I take a shower?” he asked, standing there half naked and pure. I wanted to turn the light off so I wasn’t tempted. I didn’t want to think that he had just come here because he wanted to torment me. That would have been beneath him, but maybe somebody else had put him up to it.
I met his eyes. He flinched. Could he be faking it and just leading me around? I couldn’t believe that of him. “Bobby...you’re going to tell me what’s going on, aren’t you?” Quietly, I didn’t want to make him think I was going to toss him out, no matter what my mind was saying.
He closed his eyes and started shivering again, more violently this time. His teeth chattered, but I could make out a yes. I walked a little closer to him, wanting to reach out and touch him, tell him that he wasn’t alone, but he pushed past me and ran into the bathroom. I stood there for a moment, my hand still outstretched a bit, and sighed.
I sat on the bed and listened to the shower run. A part of me was tempted to just drive off and leave him here alone, he could have my house, he could have it all. Anything was better than the silence, the wondering. The bedspread was cold against my cheek, I pulled up bits of it with my hands and sighed, leaning completely back. I thought I heard muffled crying in the shower, but I wasn’t going to go in and investigate. It was bringing back memories of that night, and I didn’t really want to rehash that, especially when I was just getting over it. What had happened? He wasn’t with anybody, I knew that much. And he wasn’t the kind of person to just randomly pick up guys. But I didn’t know.There was a loose thread amidst the forest green of the bedspread and I started picking at it. Finally I just tore it out of the fabric and watched as the cheaply sewn-on design disappeared in a loud rip. I really should have demanded to know what was going on right when I opened the door and saw him there, but I froze. And maybe I just couldn’t turn him away, my mind was still clutching at the straws that said he was my friend.
I waited for him to get out, closed my eyes and pulled the spread up to make a little pillow.
That night we’d gone out to the most popular bar in town, which also happened to be a gay cruising spot. Bobby seemed to have the mistaken impression that that was the best place to pick up guys who you could share an entire lifetime with. I kept my opinions on the subject to myself, he had a tendency to accuse me of being a pessimist. I preferred the term realist. Most of the time we wound up getting drunk together and stumbling home later than we’d planned.Tonight he was a little more dedicated to making sure the vodka bottles we’d bought were empty before we left than scouting the area for potential dates. I didn’t mind, I usually wound up drinking myself into oblivion anyway while he chatted up anyone who seemed like they were interested. Generally the next morning he’d call up and whine about how they’d just wanted him for a one night stand. No amount of me telling him that this wasn’t the kind of place to find someone who’d last for a while seemed to sink into his overly idealistic skull. So I gave up.
The music seemed to float on the smoke that definitely wasn’t nicotine and assault my nostrils. The couple in the corner had progressed from awkward handjobs to not very well concealed sex underneath the table. While soft porn flickered on the TV the bartender kept behind the counter, two women were gossiping loudly about who would come first. A normal night. I wanted the hell out, but Bobby had other plans. He was drooling onto the table and waving his hand for the waitress to bring another bottle. “Maybe you should stop,” I suggested. He snarled at me and for a moment I thought he might try and push over the table and attack me.
“I wanna dance,” he growled, pulling me to my feet and stomping over to the jukebox that hadn’t been used in what must have been years, judging by all the grime caked over its exterior. The music was piped in from the hip boutique next door. Bobby pulled me to him and ground up against me mercilessly, licking at my throat and moaning drunkenly. I let him, hoping that he’d come to his senses soon. There were times that I thought that he knew how I felt, and he wanted to show that he reciprocated those feelings but thought that he had to make me feel like I’d pulled one over on him. He pushed me away and sank to his knees. “I just wanna have someone who’ll stay!” he cried out, banging his hands on the floor.
“Come on, why don’t I take you home,” I said, helping him to his feet. He nodded, leaning heavily on me.
We took a cab to my house and I tried to get him settled into my bed while avoiding tripping all over the place, I was drunk, but not as drunk as he was. I don’t really remember what happened next, if he reached out for me first, or I reached out for him...but however it happened we had sex. What I really remember most is that instead of looking like he had the pain of the world on his shoulders he seemed to be at peace. I doubt it was because of me.“Bobby, I’ll stay with you,” I whispered after we’d finished and he’d moved off of me. “I won’t leave.”
His face fell, anything that I had thought that I had seen in his eyes had left, replaced only with the realization that yes, he had just fucked his best friend. I didn’t even call out after him when he grabbed his clothes and ran. I just slumped off to the bathroom and slept on the floor. I tried to forget. But all that I could see was myself panting underneath him, finally him slumping on my chest, me whispering his name, following that with words that made me want to explode every time that I remembered them. All of my dreams of finally finding someone who understood just turned to ash. Stupid, really. I mean, we were friends and everything, but it was sex. Nothing more, nothing less. Certainly not love. Love was more than getting drunk and convincing your friend to fuck you.
The shower turned off. I heard him rooting around...probably for towels. I should have just told him to go, or given him a change of clothes, shown him the guest room, backed away. I should have resisted the urge to ask any questions. The door opened and I watched his feet make slow progress across the carpet. I didn’t want to say anything. He might shatter; I might shatter.“Jay?” he asked, coming a bit closer. He was just in a towel, oh shit. He hadn’t done a very good job drying himself off. Water spattered down onto the bed from his chest. I clenched my eyes closed and tried to pretend that he wasn’t there. The bed moved a bit as he sat down next to me. When I opened my eyes all I could see was his hand hovering in front of my face, black nail polish chipped off a few fingers, almost as if he’d picked at them in a nervous fit. As he noticed that I was awake he pulled back, shrinking into himself. “Why did you let me in?” he asked after a long pause.
I rolled over onto my back, not really wanting to meet his eyes or even admit that I knew he existed. “Maybe I thought there was a chance. I don’t know. I...sometimes I’m stupid and can’t say no.”
He thought about that for a while, momentary guilt flashed across his face, but it soon passed. It was replaced by some almost unknowable torment. I pushed myself in a position where I could see him.
“What’s wrong?” I asked again. I could put this all aside and act mature, I could be the strong one when he crumbled. His eyes were seas of deep muddy water, chocolate brown and impenetrable. Much like mine. Shivers wracked his body and he closed his eyes, cutting off most of the clues to his personal feelings.
“I just don’t want to be alone.” he whispered. “Can’t that be enough of an explanation for now?” Something in the way that he was sitting warned that asking much more would either make him start crying or yelling at me. And as much fun as it would have been to goad him on to destruction, I didn’t really want to hurt him as much as he had hurt me. I reasoned that it was probably because deep down I still thought that I had a chance. Why else would he have come to me when he had other friends who probably would have been a lot more welcoming and comfortable to talk to?
I said nothing and got up to go. “You can sleep in here.”
“Wait.” I turned and looked at him. Without all the crap in his hair making it into spikes, he looked like a little kid. One could almost imagine that if I didn’t do what he asked he’d start pouting and crying. “Could you...stay?”
My hands clenched into fists. Hopefully he didn’t notice. “You’d be okay with that? Given what happened and all?” Why was I asking HIM if HE’D be okay, he wasn’t the one left regretting voicing his feelings.
He nodded, huddling in his towel. I sighed and found the clothes I’d given him before and threw them at him. “Thanks,” he said, smiling briefly before slipping into them. I looked away. The thought that he was going to tell me what was going on was all that kept me from pushing him out. If it turned out that he was just mulling over whether or not to stay with me, I would gladly suffer through any humiliation. If this was just some half-assed attempt to make me pity him so he could get attention, I wouldn’t be as forgiving.
I closed the curtains, watching his reflection as he got into bed and made himself comfortable. Brief flashes of him above me from before, his face so intent, a kaleidoscope of pleasure, my words slipping into nothing. I couldn’t remember what exactly I’d said, only that it erased any and all expressions of happiness on his face. He left. And I was still here. I closed my eyes and tried to pretend that he hadn’t gone, that he had just had to think things over.
My eyes opened and only saw rain sliding down the slick streets, his car parked halfway on the extension and halfway in the street. An old man stopped while walking his dog and shaking his head. He looked up at my window for a moment, rain dribbling off his umbrella, and we exchanged a glance. For once he didn’t spit on the ground after looking at me. We’d never been close neighbors. Ever since his wife had died and he’d decided that a dog was a fit enough replacement, he’d taken to walking past my house and letting the dog make messes in the front yard, then leaving them. But today, for some reason, he picked up his dog’s feces. I smiled briefly and nodded. He shook his head again and shuffled on.
I stared at Bobby’s car for a while, trying to think of something that would make him that upset. Usually he was anal about his car, making sure that there was enough space between the doors and anything surrounding it so that the paint job didn’t get messed up. He barely even drove it, preferring to beg rides off our mutual friends. I continued to stare out at it. Was it just my imagination that all the doors were unlocked and the keys in the ignition? Finally my fingers caught in the curtains and I closed them. The rain pattered against the window panes. I’d always liked the rain. It seemed to have a cleansing effect that no amount of soap and water could have. If Bobby hadn’t been here I might have just run outside. Now there was no hope of that.
When I finally turned around he was facing the other way and curled up in a ball. His spine a line of tension. I sighed and grabbed a pillow. The floor was comfortable enough. It led to less temptation and it wasn’t exactly abandoning him to whatever demons haunted his step.
Not for the first time did I wish that I hadn’t given up smoking. It would have been something to do, something that was soothing and kept my hands occupied. But we had given it up together, shared the hell of it together, kept each other strong. How soon that bond had broken. Right now I was at a crossroads of wanting to smash his face in or hold him protectively.
Sleep is a willing mistress.
He was gone in the morning. The only trace of his existence were the clothes that I had lent him lying balled up on the floor. I kicked them experimentally, as if he had left something else, perhaps a piece of his heart? Nothing except empty cotton met my touch.I decided that it probably was best to try and distract myself in another way.
“He just left?” Paige asked, stirring his coffee and smoking. He’d just gotten out of the shower when I called and his hair was a soggy uncombed mess, but his blue eyes were sharp as they examined me. My eyes burned at the sudden influx of smoke, but I said nothing. He sighed and shook his head. “Pretty shitty thing to do. Just showing up like that and then leaving. Weird.”“He said he couldn’t be alone.” I said, not venturing any opinions on that. Paige was my best friend, I always went to him with problems even if he generally had no idea of how to solve them. Most of the time it was enough to just talk with him, I could figure it out myself. Maybe I should have bought a pet, it would alleviate the need to talk with one more person. Talking with Paige had a tendency to make me wish that I hadn’t started telling him what was going on.
“Dude! Look, it’s a sale on thongs!” Ryan, Paige’s boyfriend, giggled from across the table. He was a spiked blonde party boy who seemed to have an abnormal fixation with beer and pot. Most of his conversation consisted of drunken ramblings about legalizing pot or having Paige get him more beer. I was surprised that he was lucid enough to provide Paige with any kind of sexual gratification. Actually, I think he was the reason I didn’t really want to talk to Paige about anything anymore. I wasn’t as interesting as his latest fuck-toy. Paige had a tendency to go for younger guys who talked like they were stoned and wouldn’t complain when he dumped them. Ryan was the latest in a long line. But Paige seemed to like him more than the others. He’d lasted more than a week at least. Now he was just humoring him and looking at the gold lamè thongs and joking around.
I tapped on the table, drumming out the number of syllables in cigarette and staring longingly at the open pack in front of me. Paige and Ryan still smoked, despite Bobby’s best efforts to get them to quit. And I was tempted. It wasn’t like they were going to notice. Paige was discreetly putting his free hand in Ryan’s lap and giving him longing looks.
Finally whatever self control that I had snapped and I reached out. Paige looked up and took the pack away. “What did you expect when you let him fuck you?” he asked, shaking the box until a cigarette fell out. Ryan opened his mouth and accepted it, making cute little “I love you.” noises.
The nicks and scratches on the cheap wood tabletop suddenly became much more interesting than the two people seated on the other side of it. “It was a mistake. I know that.” I said. “That doesn’t mean that...”
“Doesn’t mean that he can’t walk all over you? He didn’t tell you what was wrong, maybe he was just making it up so that he could take advantage of you.”
I narrowed my eyes and didn’t say anything. “He was really upset.” The nail polish on my fingernails was wearing off. I picked at them silently. “I don’t think he was lying.”
Paige snorted. “Fine, just don’t listen to what I’m saying. You never do anyway.”
And I didn’t. I didn’t think there was any need to.
“Dude, you should come to the bar with us sometime. I can introduce you around to some of my friends!” Ryan suggested, giggling to himself.
“Yeah, it’d get you out of that musty house!” Paige said, obviously oblivious to the plates piled high in the sink behind him and the flies buzzing around his garbage. I think he thought Ryan was taking care of the household chores, a task that he set most of his pretty boys to in order for them to earn their keep.
“I’ll try it, but I’d really rather just work things out with Bobby.”
“Then call him up! It’s not that hard to figure out!” Ryan said, laughing inanely.
Paige, who knew how shy I was, shot Ryan a warning glare. “I’ll try and talk to him. Do you think that would help?”
“At this point I’m willing to try anything.” I whispered, voice quavering under the strain. Paige nodded and before I knew it he had me trapped in a bear hug. I fought against him for a bit, but gave in after a while. Ryan looked away politely as I tried to pull myself together.
It rained a few days later. Perhaps a bit harder than previously, but it was still light enough that the old man walked his dog without wearing his piss yellow slicker. I was sitting in the yard and just letting the rain wash all of the makeup off my face and mess my hair up. The grass had lost its tenuous hold on the dirt a few weeks before and was now slowly being taken over by mud and crabgrass, neither very comfortable to lie on. I stayed there anyway, the mud was cold at least. His dog started to give the warning signs of imminent discharge, though it was hard to tell through the mass of matted hair that was its body. Someone had convinced the old man that a Shih Tzu was the perfect pet. The long faded blue ribbon tied haphazardly around one hank of the dog’s shit brown fur was all that could be used as evidence of the fact that he made some attempts to make it feel special. Part of it could have been that he had extremely bad arthritis and could barely be bothered to take care of himself half the time.The old man and I exchanged a brief glance. He coughed up a considerable glob of phlegm and then let it line his palms. His bald head was covered with little tufts of white hair from failed hair transplants. I thought that they must have come from his nose or ears, but didn’t want to dwell on that for very long. “Evening.” he grunted. The dog’s hindquarters shuddered and I closed my eyes for a moment.
“Hi.” I said lamely after I was pretty sure the dog had finished. He smiled at me, baring rotten teeth. His sweater was buttoned haphazardly, it hadn’t come out evenly so two empty button holes stood out. Somehow even velcroing his fly shut hadn’t crossed his mind. A bit of white underwear, it was too far away to determine boxers or briefs, stuck out awkwardly.
“It gets lonely out here, doesn’t it?” he asked, gesturing at the rain and the trees.
“Yeah.” Actually, I hadn’t noticed it, or maybe I was fooling myself that I didn’t notice. It didn’t matter either way. “You get used to it.”
He snorted. “You sort of have to, don’t you? Otherwise it’ll drive you crazy.” His dog started barking and he knelt down as much as his knees would allow him to. “Pookie, are you all done?” he cooed. Pookie jumped onto his lap and started yapping excitedly. “You want to go home, don’t you?”Another bark. He smiled, it looked more like a grimace, and then rose. “Nice talking to you. You’ll excuse me if I don’t clean up after Pookie, won’t you?”
I nodded. What was another pile of shit on the yard? After muttering a goodbye that he most likely couldn’t hear, I surrendered myself to the rain and the grass.
The phone lay on the table, his number typed in except for the last digit. I’d touch it in passing, pick it up and let my finger trail over that last, crucial, number. But I never pushed it. Somehow I just couldn’t find the courage or strength to bother him. And when it did ring I’d start out walking towards it, pretending that I didn’t care, but always after the second ring I’d be running, no matter where I was or in what condition. Even if it wasn’t him, I still talked to whoever was on the other end for an obscene amount of time. I don’t think I’d ever learned to say no. After answering a complicated survey about my grocery shopping habits and learning that for my ten answers I’d get a genuine diamond watch, someone knocked on the door.It was Paige and Ryan. Ryan was decked out in an outrageously tight hot pink shirt and had spiked his hair so that he looked like he was balding. He was also smoking a joint that was trying extremely hard to look like a cigarette but failed miserably. He’d latched onto Paige’s hand and put it on his crotch possessively. I took a quick look down, then flicked my eyes back up again, tight jeans were not a big turn on. Paige was somewhat more conservatively dressed in a ratty T-shirt from one of his company picnics and jeans that had holes in several vital areas. Both were grinning devilishly and gesturing wildly towards Paige’s SUV that he’d bought a few weeks ago with one of his paychecks. A few of the neighbors had come to gawk, nobody had enough money here to afford a car like THAT, and why on earth would someone important be coming over to visit ME?
“We’re going out tonight!” Paige said, beaming.
“To your favorite bar!” Ryan added, grabbing my arm and propelling me towards the car.
My ‘favorite bar’ happened to be the one that Bobby and I had frequented. I tried to go to one of the corner booths across from the bathrooms in the back so I could see who came in before they had a chance to see me, but Ryan and Paige were dead set on getting me set up with someone both more stable and more hot than Bobby. And getting me extremely drunk as well. I wound up at a table with a transvestite, her pet, and a creepy man in a police uniform who kept on putting his arm behind my back when he thought I wasn’t looking. Paige and Ryan were at the bar laughing at the latest in a series of bad porn movies that the bartender liked to play to keep things from getting too rowdy. About the only disagreements that broke out where over which one to watch next.“Did you know that giraffes and mice have the same number of bones in their necks?” the man next to me asked, putting his arm around me yet again.
I winced away from his breath that smelled like burnt toast and returned to contemplating my glass of vodka.
His finger teased at the collar of my T-shirt and then kneaded at the bones in my neck. “You have such a pretty bone structure.” Before I knew it he was bending over to lick at my neck. The transvestite giggled, fluttering her rainbow paste on eyelashes bewitchingly while her slave pulled on his leash.
“Get the fuck away from me! I just want to drink in peace, okay?” I snarled, abandoning my drink, thinking I could beg Paige for another later, he certainly had the money to afford it. I stumbled through the mass of huddled and masturbating forms that made up the regulars and forced my way into the bathroom.
Someone had convinced the owner that men liked to piss into decorative porcelain holes in the floor. And that flashing and whirling lights made it that much easier to aim and actually hit something. I made my way over to the sink with my eyes closed, the strobe lights had a tendency to make my stomach turn, and not in a good way. Cold water came out at the touch of a brightly flashing button and I splashed it over my face liberally.
My face in the mirror was a gross parody of the jilted lover, I hadn’t cried in what felt like ages, but I sure looked like I had. My hair, which was uncooperative even at the best of times, had seemed to decide that lying flat on my head was too much to ask of it and had sprouted random spikes. The makeup that I’d applied with such diligence before I’d come here was all dribbling away with the sweat from the faulty air-conditioning. I didn’t have the funds to get anything more permanent.
The man from the table pushed open the door and walked up behind me, tapping his billy club against my leg. I turned and snarled. “I said I’m not interested.”
“I know, could you move out of the way so I can use the sink?” he said, shuffling forward. I sighed and left the relative safety of the bathroom and decided to try and find Paige and Ryan.
Instead I found Bobby.
He was sitting in the booth that I had wanted to sit in earlier, drinking a martini sullenly and glaring at anyone who asked if he would mind if they sat with him. He’d pulled the hood up on his hooded sweatshirt and a few patrons mistook him for a drug dealer before he screamed a few choice words that made them regret it.
I walked towards him slowly, taking care to avoid the slick spots where a few tipsy girls had spilled their tray of drinks, and stopped a few feet from his table. Bobby looked up slowly, his pupils dilating madly before the flashing lights subsided. His lips parted as if he was going to say something, but they slammed shut as he thought better of it. I slid into the seat across from him.
“Hey.” I said. All I got in response was a brief raising of one of his eyebrows. “Do you want to talk about what’s wrong now?”
He shook his head and clutched onto the base of his glass as if it was the only thing keeping him sane. “It’s all better now.” he hissed.
I sighed and shook my head, wishing that I could call Paige and Ryan over to give me a refill on my drink. Instead I settled for tearing open sugar packets and making patterns on the table. I made a little smiley face and Bobby snorted for a second. “Please? I’m really worried about you.”
His eyes held such innocence that I’d never seen in them before. “When I was little I was really messed up. I mean, it was more than the normal kid stuff, like bullying, somewhere along the line I lost sight of who I was, and what I wanted to be. I wound up talking to some people about it, taking medication. And that seemed like it was enough. But there are times when I just can’t handle it, and my shrink said that when stuff like that happens I have to go out and find someone that I can trust to keep me from hurting myself.” I noticed the scratches on his knuckles still hadn’t healed. He noticed my gaze and pulled the sleeves down over them.
“I understand that...but why me? When we were...after we fucked it seemed like you didn’t want to stay.” I wanted a cigarette, the smell of marijuana was getting overwhelming, give me nicotine any day. The sugar was lodging itself underneath my fingernails, but I didn’t want to run to the bathroom to wash them off in case crazy neck fetishist was still there.
He touched my hand gently and smiled softly, almost like he was talking to a small child. “I think it’s better if we’re just friends Jay.”
My hands turned to fists and I wanted to punch him into the floor. “Why?!”
“We were both drunk out of our skulls, that’s not the best way to build a lasting relationship. I want to know that you’ll be there, and I value you as a friend so much that I don’t want to spoil it with sex.” he said, taking care to keep me calm. However, at this point I was as far from being calm as I’d been in a long time.
“Well, fuck you then!” I snarled, leaping to my feet, sugar spraying everywhere. Paige and Ryan turned in shock as I slipped on the spilled drinks and wound up flat on my back with the world spinning into nothing.
“Don’t worry, the cast will be off soon enough.” Ryan said cheerily as he arranged my foot on the ottoman. “Bobby sent you a nice bouquet too.” An arrangement of baby’s breath, roses, and daylilies. I didn’t think he had it in him. The card was a generic get well soon with nothing else except his signature and an awkwardly drawn vase of flowers. I was slowly getting over it. “He said that he does still want to be friends.”“That’s fucking great, isn’t it?” I snapped, wincing as my foot jerked accidentally.
Paige came over and patted my shoulder. “There are other guys to go out with. Just let Ryan and I introduce you to a few of our friends.”
“No, that’s okay. I think I’ve given up on dating for a while.” I said darkly, glaring at the vase of flowers dripping water onto my TV. “I can forget this happened.”
“Do you want us to get you anything?” Paige asked while Ryan tugged on his arm in a vain attempt to get him to leave.
“I think I’ll be okay.” I glanced outside, the old man was walking his dog again. The dog was sniffing at the tires on Paige’s car in an ominous way. Paige looked confused at my evil grin. “I think I’m going to head out to the pet store once the cast gets off.”