"Oh, sweetie. Did the baby wake you?" Lindsay asked in a quiet voice as she entered the living room, bouncing Gus soothingly in her arms. "No. I couldn't sleep." "Aww. You really should try. You've got school tomorrow." She wandered near the couch where I sat amid tangled sheets and blankets. She noticed the sketch pad in my lap. "Working on something new?" I didn't hesitate to show her. I had basked in her praise and encouragement and I appreciated what seemed to be her sincere interest in my drawings. I flipped the book open to the sketch I had been sitting up working on. "Justin, that's remarkable." She shifted Gus to one arm so she could reach for the pad. I smiled and reached out to take the baby from her arms, not really expecting her to give him to me but Lindsay gladly handed him over without even a word of instruction, trusting me to do it properly. I cradled Gus' head carefully and held him securely, rocking him in my arms, while she examined the portrait from a few angles. "You really captured him, Justin . . . his beauty . . . his intensity. But I don't know that I've ever seen him look so mean. Not even when he's sparing with Mel." she said lightly. I tucked my head down against Gus and kissed his little forehead. "He was tonight." I murmured against his soft skin. I felt hurt and confused and looked toward Lindsay, hoping for some kind of explanation. She'd known Brian for so long. "Why did he do it? Why did he bring that guy home?" "I don't always understand Brian's motivations." Lindsay said helplessly. "He does things impulsively, sure. But often, what appears to be impulsive is actually a well thought out plan." "What does that mean?" "It means either that Brian just wanted to fuck this guy or it means he was sending you a message." "That I mean nothing to him." I said dejectedly. "Well, message received." "I don't think that's true, Justin. I really don't." I said nothing but she caught my doubtful look, even in the low light of the room. "Justin . . . really. Brian has to stop himself from kicking someone out immediately after he's done with them. And they don't get invited back. I've seen it happen. Yet, how many nights have you spent with him? That's different. I don't know what it means, but it means something." "Really?" "Yeah. But don't mention this to Melanie. I shouldn't be encouraging you. You should be dating guys your own age." Lindsay said conspiratorially. "So what message was he trying to send me, with that guy?" "Hmmm. Not sure. He might be telling you that he really is a shit and you shouldn't stick around or he could be telling you that he calls the shots . . . that you can't own him or control him." "I don't want to own him. I just want to be with him." "I think Brian has a little trouble with the distinction." Lindsay said with a grin. She nodded toward the baby. "He's asleep. I better put him back in his crib and get to bed myself." "You want me to carry him up?" I offered. "No, you get some rest. School tomorrow." Despite Lindsay's directive I laid awake replaying the entire evening in my mind, applying Lindsay's insights to each of the events. I mentally listed all the stupid things I'd done and vowed to never repeat them. I wondered about Brian and that guy, whether they fucked and if that guy even wondered who I was. The houseboy? The kid brother? Did Brian even bother explaining my presence? I was certain that neither of them gave me a second thought once they got their clothes off. I was inconsequential. I was still feeling that way when I awoke. Lindsay and Melanie tried their best to make me feel better. I was glad I had decided to come to their house rather than to Debbie's. She would have called Michael and I would have had to suffer his animosity. What did I ever do to him? ***** School sucked. Then those jerks circled around me, culling me like a pack of dogs. All I could think while I was picking up the books they had thrown to ground was "I don't have time for this shit. I have real problems." And then Brian was there and he didn't look happy. "Where are we going?" "Home." I wasn't naive enough to think he meant his home. I didn't say much in the car for a while. All I kept thinking is that when he dropped me off at my house, I wouldn't even go in. I'd go to Daphne's and see if she had any money. Maybe she'd let me hock those pearl earrings she got for her birthday. "Do those guys hassle you a lot?" Brian was asking, pulling me back from my thoughts of where I could go next. "I can take care of myself." I said. "I know you can." "Obviously." I replied snidely. "What's that supposed to mean?" "You weren't too bothered that I left last night. You didn't seem too concerned about where I might sleep." "I . . . Lindsay called me last night. I knew you were safe." "Oh. I'm sure that was a relief." I said sarcastically. "Justin, look . . ." he began. "How was Mr. Honeychild anyway?" I asked with a mock drawl. "Never mind about him. We're going to talk to your parents. Remember, be strong. Confident, no matter what they say." he advised sagely. "I'm not either of those at the moment." I said, turning my head to gaze out of the passenger window. He suddenly pulled the car off to the side and threw it into park. He reached over and grabbed my cheek, turning me to face him. "Yes. You are." he said, and pulled me in toward him, kissing me tenderly on the lips. "You need to sit down and work this out with your parents. Your mother wants you back home." "Unfortunately, my father is of another opinion." I said, sadly. Just that little kiss had undone me. My bravado and anger melted. I leaned against him awkwardly over the gear shift. He wrapped an arm around me. "Something tells me that your mother doesn't really give a shit about your father's opinion." I felt like crying but fought the urge. Instead, I pressed my face into the crook of his neck and breathed deeply, hoping his sent would fortify me somehow. "You ready to do this?" he asked pushing me away slightly. I looked up at him and smiled bravely. "No." I answered honestly. **** Mom was at her passive aggressive best. She didn't seem upset at me or even Brian. Only at my dad. Though I was grateful to have her as an ally, it doesn't really help to alienate him. We've done that to him, exclude him, all too often. I don't know why Brian had to come in the house with me. I didn't want him there, witnessing this little family drama. He was sitting there as if he'd been forced to attend a bad play, his eyebrow cocked in disbelief. If that tongue of his made it to the inside of his cheek, I was going to scream. Mom had pretty much told Dad to shut up and I was trying to figure out what clothes I should pack and remember where my savings account pass book was. His voice cut through everything. "Look at your mom, Justin." I looked at him, so relaxed, that eyebrow raised so eloquently, waiting for the curtain to close on the first act so he can make his way out of the theater undetected. "You're staying here." Mom said. " Only if dad says he's sorry . . . to Brian." The eyebrow darted up imperceptibly. Yeah. I know he thinks sorry is bullshit. And I'm sure he didn't want to be dragged into this. But it wasn't about him, really. It was something instinctive between my father and me. I knew I shouldn't be doing this. I knew it would just make it worse. But I couldn't help it. It's what we do. A lot, lately. Dad jumped to his feet, reacting exactly as I thought he would, maybe the way all fathers react to their sons, regardless of the issue. Maybe that's what happened with Brian and his dad. Knowing this about fathers and sons didn't stop me from advancing, however, with words I knew would gnaw at him. "He said it was just a fuck. That's all. But I'm okay with that because that's all it was. All it should be." Mom's told me I should go to my room, but my dad had to reestablish his position as head of the household first. "You are not to go to gay bars or talk about your disgusting lifestyle. And you are never, ever to see him again." Rather impotent, but he'd been wounded. Is that what I wanted? Unexpectedly, Brian joined the fray. "So, in order for Justin to live here with you, he has to deny who he is, what he thinks and how he feels." "No one asked for your opinion, pal." "Well, that's not love, that's hate." "Get the fuck out of my house." Brian paused on his way out the door. "Justin. You coming?" We stepped over their bleeding bodies and make our escape. **** Brian had to meet Michael at the diner. He asked me to come but I told him that I had homework. If I had to have even one more confrontation, even a little one with Michael, I was going to lose it. "I'll drop you off at home. I won't be gone too long." Once inside, I stashed away my books and tried to distract myself by straightening up. Realizing that I was hungry I peered in the fridge. Someone had put the pot of jambalaya away, hopefully last night. I pulled it out and put it over a low flame to warm it up. I set the table for two, not knowing if Brian would be joining me. He came in just as I was about to serve myself. "Hey. You hungry?" "Not really." "You have to eat something." I filled both bowls and carried them to the table. He joined me and we started eating. He told me it's wasn't bad. I worried briefly about food poisoning, but he was smiling at me and the thought was pushed out of my head. "How was school?" I was about to answer with a dismissive 'Fine', the way I always answer that question, when I realized he was attempting to engage me in conversation. "We're studying animal behavior in psych. It's pretty cool. We saw a film on wolves and we're doing experiments with white mice and mazes." I offered, not certain that he was...
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