Talker

D e dica tion A LL of my work, whe the r I re me mbe r the de dica tion or not, is some how de dica te d to my husba nd. “Ma te ” a nd I ha ve be e n toge the r since we we re nine te e n ye a rs old. W e we re the one s with the re sta ura nt jobs, ta king cla sse s, while living in the shitty a pa rtme nt. W e we re the one s with the poorma n’s C hristma s tre e , a nd we we re the one s who ha d to choose be twe e n he a t a nd light. (W e chose light a nd we re gra te ful for the big ca mping sle e ping ba gs my pa re nts ga ve us for C hristma s. T he y we re la te r stole n, be ca use he y—did I me ntion it wa s a shitty a pa rtme nt?) I write a lot of storie s a bout young love a nd first-time love rs, a nd I do it with optimism tha t the love rs will ma ke it, be ca use Ma te a nd I did. S o whe n you ge t to the e nd, don’t worry a bout B ria n a nd T a lke r. H a ve a little fa ith. T urns out tha t some time s, fa ith a nd a se nse of humor re a lly ca n be a ll you ne e d. (A nd a cha nce to ra id your pa re nts’ ga rde n or e a t fre e re sta ura nt food. T ha t he lps too.)

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P a rt I I W ill F ollow T he n B ria n C oope r wa s on the big tour bus, on the wa y to his first tra ck me e t, whe n he first me t T a te W a lke r. H e wa s sitting by himse lf, be ca use he didn’t know a nybody, a nd he fe lt like the only pe rson on e a rth without a n iP od or a ce ll phone tha t folde d itse lf into origa mi a nd took a dump for you to boot. Ta te ca me on la te , a nd brothe r, wa s he a sight. H a lf his fa ce wa s ta ke n up with a glorious triba l ta ttoo, one tha t e xte nde d down to the ne ck of his long-sle e ve d shirt a nd ove r his ha lf-glove d ha nd. La te r, T a te would ge t a n e ntire sle e ve ta ttoo the re a nd stop we a ring long-sle e ve d shirts, but the ta ttoo wa s not e ve n the most a ma z ing pa rt of his look. H is right e a r, the side with the ta ttoo, wa s pie rce d upwa rd of a doz e n time s, a nd so wa s his nose , a nd his e ye brow, a nd his lip (a lthough tha t one wa s the first to go). H is inky da rk ha ir wa s cut into a Moha wk, a nd the ta ttoo e xte nde d ove r ha lf his sca lp a s we ll. A lthough the Moha wk wa s ba ck in a ponyta il for the me e t, B ria n ha d se e n T a te a round school, a nd ve ry ofte n he wore it in four-inch spike s, courte sy of E lme r’s glue a nd a lot of grooming, B ria n a ssume d.

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S o he wa s sca ry-looking, a nd B ria n wa s not oblivious to the fa ct tha t the kids on the bus ta lke d shit a bout him—but B ria n didn’t ca re . B e ca use toda y, T a te e ye d the spot ne xt to B ria n a nd smile d te nta tive ly be fore he sa t down. H e ha d his e a rbud in one e a r a nd wa s ha lfwa y da ncing to the song pla ying for him a nd him a lone . He te nde d to je rk some time s, whe n he wa sn’t out on the tra ck—just twitch right out of his skin, it looke d like —but he wa s looking a t B ria n like B ria n wa sn’t a fre a k, a nd for the first time since he ’d sta rte d school the month be fore , some thing froz e n in B ria n me lte d. O h, tha nk G od, B ria n wa sn’t a lone on the godda mne d bus. H e wa s sitting on the le ft side of the bus, so he didn’t ge t to se e T a te ’s ta ttoo, a nd he ha d to a dmit, he wa s curious. It didn’t ma tte r—some one wa s sitting ne xt to him, some one wa s ta lking to him… a nd brothe r, wa s tha t kid ta lking. “H e y—hope you don’t mind if I sit. I know, the othe r kids ta lk a bout me be ing ga y a nd shit.” (T he y did—the y we re n’t nice a bout it, e ithe r.) “B ut I swe a r tha t’s not ca tching or a nything. H e re —I’m liste ning to this ba nd ca lle d T he Dove s—you wa nt to liste n? “K ingdom of R ust” is such a n a we some song—sa d, but you know, a we some . B ut if you’re not in the mood for sa d, I’ve got some thing re a lly rocking—rocking he lps for pumping you up for a me e t. A lthough, I don’t know….” H e he sita te d. “Y ou te nd to do a lot of throwing. D o you ne e d to Z e n out or do you ne e d to ge t a ll pumpe d?” H e fina lly stoppe d a nd looke d a t B ria n a s though he e xpe cte d a n a nswe r. B ria n blinke d a nd trie d to come up with one . “I don’t know music,” he sa id, e mba rra sse d. “B ut I’d love to liste n to wha te ve r you’ve got.” T he kid with the ta ttoo a nd Moha wk ha d grinne d the n, his smile shining a nd pure (a nd a little crowde d—not a lot of de nta l work he re ), a nd ha nde d B ria n his e a rbud.

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“I’ve se e n you throw, right? And you ca n run too. N o wonde r you got a schola rship!” B ria n flushe d. “I ha d to sort of a udition,” he mumble d. “I wa s home schoole d—it wa s the only wa y I could ge t into colle ge .” H is shoulde r wa s a lre a dy giving him twinge s. H e ’d sta rte d thinking a bout how to pa y for school whe n it ga ve out. T a te nodde d a s though this ha ppe ne d e ve ry da y. “S e e , I use d to be a ska te r, right? B ut the se cond, third, sixth time I broke my wrist, one of the coa che s a t my school thre w me on the tra ck in my running shoe s a nd told me to ke e p my fe e t on the ground. H e he lpe d ge t me my schola rship, so we ’re , like , you know, the sa me .” B ria n looke d a t tha t vulne ra ble e xpre ssion, a sort of “ple a se , ple a se le t us be the sa me ” e xpre ssion, a nd wonde re d tha t some one who would ink the side of his fa ce a nd sha ve his he a d a nd we a r pipe -cle a ning, hip-dropping skinny je a ns a nd spa rkly se quine d T -shirts would ne e d to be “the sa me ” a s a nyone . But tha t wa s only be ca use he ’d just me t T a te , a nd wa s sitting on his le ft side . B ut the boy se e me d to be wa iting for a n a nswe r, a nd B ria n dre dge d up the only one he could think of. “Y ou broke your wrist six time s?” N ow

T A T E wa s la cing up his running shoe s whe n he told B ria n a bout his ne w hobby. B ria n thought ve ry se riously a bout throwing up. H e cha nge d his mind a nd thought a bout throwing his fist through the wa ll. B ut T a te ke pt ta lking, a s blind a s ba cte rium to B ria n’s comple te e motiona l supe rnova , a nd by the time he wa s done , his innoce nt

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que stion a bout why B ria n looke d like he ’d swa llowe d a poisone d ra t e licite d a thre e -word a nswe r tha t ha d Ta te cringing.

F uck you, a sshole . It ra ng be twe e n the m for a stunne d mome nt, a nd T a te le t the fa ça de of “tough-ta t-boy” drop. “W ha t’s wrong?” he a ske d, ge nuine ly hurt. It wa s ha rd to se e hurt on his fa ce . F or one thing, the ta ttoo te nde d to ma sk his e motions, which B ria n wa s pre tty sure wa s wha t T a te ha d inte nde d in the first pla ce . It wa s a lso difficult to se e T a te hurt—so much a bout T a te wa s like a crumple d ba ll of brittle ce llopha ne , tra nspa re nt a nd broke n. B ria n ha d le a rne d not to se e the ta ttoos a nymore , or the pie rcings or the ha ir, a nd he ’d le a rne d to re a lly love the wa y T a te a lwa ys bounce d on his toe s or twitche d, e ve n whe n he wa s sta nding still. T ha t wa s T a te —a lwa ys he a ring fa nta stic stra ins of a lie n music a nd succumbing to the urge to da nce . S o e ve n though looking a t T a te wa s a n e xe rcise in misdire ction—the ca re fully de signe d ha ir, body (he ’d fina lly ha d his sle e ve ta ttoo done ), clothe s, fa ce —a ll of it wa s ma de to a ttra ct a tte ntion, to dra w it a wa y from the things he didn’t wa nt pe ople to se e . B ria n ha d ma de a study of looking be yond tha t. W hich wa s why this ne w “hobby” sca re d the shit out of him.

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P a rt II A ppe a ra nce Lie s T H E Y we re in the ir se cond ye a r of tra ck be fore the y got to be re a lly good frie nds. T ha t wa s mostly B ria n’s fa ult—he ’d be e n orpha ne d young a nd ra ise d by his a unt in the hills, a nd ha d difficulty re a ding socia l cue s, so he ha dn’t known how to ta ke T a te ’s te nta tive ly e xte nde d ha nd in frie ndship a nd run with it. It didn’t he lp tha t T a te ke pt e xpe cting him to be a s me a nspirite d a s the re st of the guys on the tra ck te a m. B ria n ignore d those guys—he didn’t like me a n pe ople , he wa s sta rting to re a lly like T a te ’s music, a nd he e njoye d tra ck me e ts for the bus ride s only, a nd tha t wa s be ca use of T a te . B e side s, the y ha d to te st e a rly a nd ofte n for drugs, so wha te ve r ma de Ta te move like tha t ha d to be some thing in his own he a d. A nd T a te (or T a lke r, a s the guys ca lle d him some time s) ke pt sitting ne xt to B ria n on the bus or linge ring ne a r him to ta lk during pra ctice , a nd tha t wa s good. T he tra ck te a m a lone wa s bigge r tha n B ria n’s home school ca dre , gra de s K -12. A fte r tha t first me e ting, he re a lly looke d forwa rd to those bus ride s with tha t twitching, cha tting pe rson who se e me d to se e k out his a tte ntion. H e ce rta inly wa sn’t going to turn down tha t offe r of compa nionship be ca use T a lke r wa s ope nly ga y. N ot e ve n a fte r a

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girl in his E nglish cla ss with big, da rk e ye s sta rte d cha tting him up a nd ble w him into ha ving a girlfrie nd. T a lke r wa s diffe re nt tha n the othe r kids on the te a m, the one s who e xpe cte d B ria n to contribute some thing witty or sa rca stic. T a lke r would ta lk a bout movie s or music or W e b site s for hours, without pa use , without e ve n wa iting for a n a nswe r or to se e if B ria n wa s liste ning. B ria n wa s a lwa ys liste ning. H e le a rne d more a bout pop culture a nd living with ma sse s of his fe llow huma n be ings on those bus ride s tha n he could e ve r fully re la y to T a te W a lke r. T a te , howe ve r, wa s a lwa ys ve ry gra te ful a t the e nd of the ride . “Ma n, tha nks for putting up with my me nta l dia rrhe a . Y ou’re , like , be st liste ne r e ve r. N e xt time , I’ll bring you a n e xtra se t of buds, a nd we ca n he a r P la ce bo in ste re o, right?” T a te a lwa ys ke pt his promise s, a nd P la ce bo be ca me one of B ria n’s fa vorite ba nds. S o B ria n ha d known Ta lke r for a bout a ye a r a nd a ha lf whe n he sudde nly got a glimpse into who T a te Wa lke r re a lly wa s. It wa s like a window into a whole othe r world. B ria n ha d linge re d a fte r pra ctice tha t da y. It wa s be coming pa infully obvious tha t his shoulde r would de finite ly not la st for e ve n thre e ye a rs, a nd he wa nte d to ba by it for a s long a s possible to ke e p his schola rship. H e ’d liste ne d to the othe r kids ta lking a bout jobs a nd de cide d he ’d be up to his e lbows in a re sta ura nt job soon e nough whe n tra ck wa s gone , so he might a s we ll sta y a s he a lthy a s possible for a s long a s he could. S o the re he wa s in his tighty-whitie s a nd a pla in gra y T -shirt, icing his shoulde r, whe n he he a rd T a lke r ba wling to D ropkick Murphys a t the top of his lungs—a nd doing a pa ssa ble job of it, since the ba nd te nde d towa rd Irish ra p a nd the y sa ng fa st! T a te

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must ha ve thought he wa s comple te ly a lone , be ca use a s he rounde d the corne r, towe ling his long stripe of ha ir with one ha nd a nd holding a towe l wra ppe d a round his wa ist with a nothe r, he wa s still singing—but he stoppe d a bruptly a nd fe ll on his a ss whe n he sa w B ria n the re , stinking of Be n-G a y a nd rota ting his shoulde r ginge rly. B ria n re ga rde d T a te with quie t surprise , a nd the n he sa w the sca rs. T a lke r ha dn’t gotte n the sle e ve ta ttoo done ye t, a nd B ria n ha d long since stoppe d trying to look a t his fa ce ta ttoo like a ga wke r a t a z oo. H e kne w tha t T a te wore long-sle e ve d shirts ye a r round, in spite of the hundre d-plus de gre e he a t in S a cra me nto in the summe r, or the fa ct tha t summe r ofte n stre tche d until O ctobe r. H e e ve n kne w tha t the coa ch le t T a te we a r long-sle e ve d tra ck-shirts, whe n the re st of the world wa s in a ta nk top. A fte r a ye a r a nd ha lf of a cqua inta nce ship, now B ria n kne w why. T he origina l ta ttoo e nde d a t the e dge of his ne ck, a nd the sca r—a mottle d combina tion of old burn sca rs a nd skin gra fts, e xte nde d down the e ntire right side of his body. Sudde nly the ra ndom, origina l ta ttoo pa tte rn ma de se nse : ta ttooing ove r sca r tissue wa s difficult a nd pa inful. T he a rtist ha d simply followe d the tissue pa tte rn for the be st e ffe ct. A nd since colors would ble e d, the sta rk bla ck ma de se nse too. T he e ntire ta ttoo wa s ca moufla ge , hiding Ta te ’s sca rs in pla in sight. T he re a son T a te wa s a lwa ys the la st one off the tra ck a nd ne ve r showe re d with the re st of the te a m wa s obvious a s we ll. T he look in T a te ’s brown e ye s wa s… he a rtbre a king. H e scowle d a t B ria n a s he picke d himse lf up with dignity, a nd a n e choing sile nce fe ll ove r the two of the m a s T a te da re d B ria n to sa y some thing.

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B ria n wa nte d to sa y a lot. H e wa nte d to sa y, “O h, I ge t it now,” be ca use so much a bout Ta te ’s pe rsona lity ma de se nse . H e a lso wa nte d to sa y, “Look, I don’t ca re a bout the sca rs—I’m not going to ma ke fun of the m, you don’t ha ve to worry a bout me . I’m a good guy.” H e re a lly wa nte d to sa y “H oly shit, wha t ha ppe ne d!” but e ve n he kne w tha t wa s not good form. W ha t he did sa y wa s, “O uch,” a nd he sa id it mildly, without a lot of dra ma . B ria n ne ve r did re a lly go for dra ma —he ’d be e n quie t a nd se lf-conta ine d, e ve n a s a child. It wa s a ppa re ntly the right thing to sa y. Ta te shrugge d a nd floppe d the stripe of long ha ir out of his e ye s. W ithout the ponyta il or the spike s or the e ye line r, he looke d vulne ra ble a nd young. T he curve of his lip wa s se nsua l a nd full—a thing B ria n ha dn’t notice d until this pa rticula r mome nt. “Y e a h, it hurt,” he sa id, a s though the hurt didn’t ma tte r. “I wa s a kid whe n it ha ppe ne d, you know?” B ria n nodde d. “H ow little ?” T a te wa lke d to his locke r a nd sta rte d rooting a round for clothe s—ca moufla ge je a ns, comba t boots, a nd a long-sle e ve d T shirt, e ve n though it wa s la te Ma y. “I wa s six. My mom fe ll a sle e p with a ciga re tte a nd a bottle of whiske y. T he bla nke t I wa s sle e ping on wa s soa ke d in it.” O uch inde e d. “Y our mom?” “D idn’t live .” “My folks too. C a r cra sh.” T a te ma de one of those twitche s, the one s tha t se e me d to lite ra lly ya nk him from one thought or time or pla ce to the re a l, physica l he re a nd now. “T he N e wsie s we re a ra gge d a rmy, poor orpha ns a nd runa wa ys without dire ction… until one da y, a ll tha t

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cha nge d.” H e sa id it with intona tion, a s though he wa s quoting some thing, a nd B ria n fe lt thick a nd slow ne xt to tha t quickne ss. H e ’d a lwa ys be e n slow to spe a k a round Ta lke r, but T a lke r didn’t se e m to mind. T his time wa s no e xce ption. “I don’t unde rsta nd,” he a pologiz e d, a nd T a te turne d to him, e nthusia sm writte n on his fa ce like cra yon on a wa ll. “N e wsie s ? Y ou’ve ne ve r se e n Ne wsie s ? It’s, like , the musica l, be fore H igh S chool Musica l, which wa s la me … ma n, you’ve got to se e this movie —it’s a we some !” “U hm, oka y.” B ria n wa s blinking, ha rd, wonde ring how the ir conve rsa tion ha d e nde d up down such a n e xotic ha llwa y whe n he ha dn’t se e n the turn, but the n tha t’s whe re T a te took conve rsa tion. If some thing got too close , he would ta ke it in the opposite dire ction. “I could bring it by your dorm—if you’ve got a compute r, we could se e it. Y ou’d like it….” It wa s the first time in tha t ye a r a nd a ha lf of se mi-a cqua inta nce ship tha t the y’d progre sse d into a ctua l frie ndship. Be st mome nt of B ria n’s life . “O ka y.” B ria n ha d a la ptop—he a nd his a unt ha d put e ve ry spa re pe nny the y ha d into it. S o fa r, he ’d only use d it to type pa pe rs a nd surf Y ouT ube . H e fe lt va gue ly a sha me d tha t he ha d no porn to spe a k of, but tha t didn’t se e m to inte re st him right now. “U hm, tha t is, if you don’t mind a fa g in your dorm room.” T a te ha d turne d a wa y. H e ma de a show out of using the sma ll mirror in his locke r to ca re fully pla ce bra ze n blue e ye line r a round his e ye s. B ria n re a liz e d with some shock tha t T a te wa s ta lking a bout himse lf. H e a lso re a liz e d tha t he wa s te rrifie d B ria n would a gre e with him.

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“D on’t ha ve ma ny frie nds,” he sa id hone stly. “C a n’t a fford to be choosy.” H e pa use d a nd wa tche d a s T a te ’s shoulde rs stra ighte ne d a little , the twitchy hunch to the m gone with B ria n’s ope n a cce pta nce . “B ut I don’t like it whe n pe ople ca ll the m na me s.” “T he m?” T a te turne d a round with wide -ope n, de cora te d e ye s, a s though da ring B ria n to de ny who he wa s. “My frie nds.” T a te nodde d the n, a nd flushe d. “R ight. O ka y.” H e smile d. B ria n ha d come to know tha t smile with the promine nt ca nine s a nd crowde d bottom bite ve ry we ll. B ut T a te ’s smile wa s luminous— pure a nd shining, e spe cia lly now—a nd B ria n re a liz e d with a lump in his throa t tha t, for this mome nt a t le a st, he wa s ne e de d. T a te W a lke r ne e de d him a s a frie nd a s no one e lse ha d pe rha ps ne e de d B ria n in his life . It wa s so e a sy a fte r tha t. B ria n’s shoulde r ha d fina lly blown while pra cticing the shot put. H e ’d lost his schola rship a nd ha d to ta ke a job to ge t through school, a nd the y’d move d in toge the r shortly a fte r tha t. H e y, B ria n—whe re you living if you ca n’t live in the dorms? D on’t know—gotta find a n a pa rtme nt. H e re —my frie nd on X S tre e t just ga ve up a se cond-floor dump. It’s a shitty ne ighborhood, but it’s got two be drooms, a nd it’s right be hind a S ta rbucks, so we ca n pira te the ir W i-F i. We? W e ll… if you don’t mind a roomma te who like s guys. N o—not a t a ll.

A lthough Ta te ne ve r sa id so, he ga ve up his dorm be ca use B ria n wa s his be st frie nd, a nd he didn’t wa nt to lose the a bility to

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just wa nde r down the ha ll a nd throw a movie in the la ptop while B ria n wa s trying to pound out a pa pe r. B oth of the m got re sta ura nt jobs: T a te a s a ba r-ba ck a t G a tsby’s N ick, a fla mboya nt ga y ba r, a nd B ria n wa iting ta ble s a t O live G a rde n. T a te still ha d his schola rship, but ne ithe r of the m ha d much mone y. The ir a pa rtme nt wa s cra ppy, the ir furniture wa s se cond ha nd, a nd whe n the y we re n’t filching re sta ura nt food, the y live d on T op Ra me n a nd frie d pota toe s. B ria n couldn’t re me mbe r be ing ha ppie r.

A N D now, a fte r two a nd a ha lf ye a rs of frie ndship, B ria n couldn’t be lie ve he ’d he a rd right.

T his wa s T a te ’s ne w hobby? “Y ou’re doing wha t?” he a ske d quie tly, whe n the e cho of his une xpe cte d outburst ha d die d down. T a te shook himse lf out a nd da nce d on his toe s. T he tile unde r his fe e t cra ckle d a nd broke down into e ve n sma lle r fra gme nts be fore he a nswe re d. “It’s no big de a l.” “It’s not sta mp colle cting! W ha t is it you’re doing a ga in?” “Y ou know, I’m… I’m ta lking.” “Y e a h, I he a rd tha t,” B ria n growle d. H e wa s running with T a te for compa ny, since he wa s no longe r on the te a m. H e like d running, though. He like d spe nding time with Ta te whe n he wa s fre e from a ll the stuff tha t bound him to the e a rth in the pa inful wa y of iron ma na cle s. R ight now, though, he wa sn’t sure he could ma ke the trip down to the rive rfront bike tra il be ca use he wa s too da mne d ma d a nd in too much shock. H is shoe da ngle d from his finge r by

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the la ce , a nd for a se cond he thought a bout using it to bludge on his roomma te until T a te ca me to his se nse s. “Y ou’re going into the ba throom sta lls a fte r work a nd ta lking to guys until the y come . Y ou sa id tha t. A phone -se x ope ra tor, but in pe rson. Y ou sa id tha t too. W ha t you didn’t sa y”—he ha d to pa use be ca use his voice ma de a sound like a gra ve l drive wa y unde rfoot— “wa s why in G od’s na me you would put yourse lf in da nge r like tha t!” O h shit. T he re we nt his voice —but he couldn’t he lp it. H e couldn’t. O h G od…. T a te wa s just so vulne ra ble . “It’s not tha t da nge rous,” T a te ma inta ine d e a rne stly. “H one st, B ria n. I don’t e ve n ha ve to se e the m. It’s like … I don’t know. It’s powe rful!” H e looke d up the n. H e didn’t ha ve on his e ye line r ye t, a nd his ha ir wa sn’t spike d, so it wa s just… his e ye s. T he y we re inkda rk, a nd hurt, a nd he ha d a cle nch to his chin, like he wa s going to powe r through the pa in. T ha t wa s how T a te me t e a ch da y. “P owe rful,” B ria n e choe d, his voice a hollow void. “Y e a h, it’s like … you know. I ca n ha ve the se x, but I don’t ha ve to… to put a nything on the line . P e ople wa lk a wa y ha ppy, but the y ca n’t hurt me . D on’t you se e ? It’s pe rfe ct.” B ria n droppe d his shoe the re on the floor of the ir e ntrywa y, a nd sa nk down on the cra cke d tile a fte r it, pulling his kne e s to his che st a nd pushing his longish, whe a t-colore d ha ir out of his e ye s with a swe a ty pa lm. “Y e a h, it’s pe rfe ct,” he mutte re d. It ma de pe rfe ct se nse . T a te ha d be e n so hurt, so ma ny time s. H is body wa s lite ra lly twitching with the ne e d to be love d, but his he a rt… his he a rt couldn’t ta ke one more wormwood-fla vore d grind through the mood-proce ssor. “C ome on, B ria n,” T a te sa id, crouching down ne xt to him. H e put a n e a sy ha nd on B ria n’s shoulde r be ca use he thought B ria n wa s stra ight, B ria n wa s no thre a t to him, B ria n couldn’t possibly

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hurt him tha t wa y, a nd B ria n me t tha t da rk-e ye d, cle nche d-ja w look of trust with a throa t so tight he could ha rdly bre a the . “I me a n,” T a te sa id softly, “it’s not like you ca n do this for me , you know? Y ou’re the be st frie nd a guy could ha ve , but… I… I re a lly wa nt some one .” H e stood up a nd da nce d a wa y to the industria l-te chno-popping rhythm of his he a rt. “I’m just so lone ly,” he sa id na ke dly, a nd B ria n wa s fina lly a ble to ge t the words out. “B ut I love you,” he ra spe d, a nd T a te be nt down a nd pa tte d him on the he a d like a child or a ca t or some thing. “W e ll, ye a h, but we both know it’s not the wa y I ne e d.” H is voice choke d a t tha t, a nd be fore B ria n could contra dict him, e xpla in the trope tha t T a te ha d locke d him into a s sure ly a s a girl in a ma nga book, he sa id, “H e re . I’ve got to go… I’ll just go a lone … I’ll… I’ll showe r a t work… bye ….” B ria n trie d ha rd to scra mble a fte r him, but he put a ll his we ight on his ba d shoulde r a nd whe n his vision cle a re d from the ma sk of bla ck spots in front of it, T a te wa s long gone . B ria n ha d be e n a de ca thle te . T a te ha d be e n a dista nce sprinte r, a nd the y ha d more tha n ha lf a doz e n diffe re nt tra ils to choose from be twe e n the city stre e ts a nd the rive rfront bike tra il. T he odds of a ctua lly ca tching up to him whe n he wa s in this mood we re a s thin a s the sca r tissue on T a te ’s he a ling he a rt. S hit. S hit shit shit shit shit shit shit…. B ria n found himse lf on his a ss a ga in a s sca lding te a rs slid in the sa lty dust coa ting his kne e s. “B ut it is the wa y you ne e d,” he whispe re d. It is, T a te . It’s just e xa ctly wha t you ne e d. B ut Ta te wouldn’t liste n to him—not now. N ot a fte r a ll B ria n ha d se e n, or the wa y T a te ha d la id his he a rt ba re be ca use he thought B ria n wa s “sa fe .” O h G od—now tha t T a te re a lly ne e de d B ria n-the -love r, how could B ria n ge t him to trust B ria n-the -frie nd?

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P a rt III O ld Love rs B R IA N ha d a da te with V irginia the first night T a te ha d trie d to ha ve se x. H e re me mbe re d tha t—the da te . H e ’d be e n ha ving se x pre tty ste a dily since his se nior ye a r in home schooling. H e wa s a pre tty kid—he kne w tha t in a de ta che d wa y. W he a t-colore d ha ir, blue e ye s, a ll-A me rica n-boy fre ckle s, a nd a wide , smiling mouth—be twe e n tha t a nd the body, which wa s hone d be ca use he like d the e xe rcise a nd not be ca use he like d the muscle s—we ll, girls ha d be e n following him into be d with impunity, a nd he ha dn’t minde d. H e like d girls, like d ple a sing the m, so he wa s pre tty good in be d (whe n the y could find one —ofte n, he wa s pre tty good in his ca r), but the whole a ffa ir se e me d… curiously pa ssionle ss to him. T he re ha d be e n no pounding or swe a ting or de dica tion to the a ct. The whole gimme gimme gimme gotta ha ve it ba -be e thing se e me d to be missing, a nd it ha dn’t be e n until he ’d live d with T a te tha t he ’d be gun to figure out why. S ince moving in with T a te , he ’d be come obse sse d with the cre a se of T a te ’s thigh, the one le a ding from his hip to his groin. Ma ybe it wa s be ca use T a te ’s priva te pa rts we re a lwa ys ca sua lly hidde n whe n he ca me out of the showe r or wa s dre ssing, but tha t pa rticula r pla ce just… ca pture d B ria n’s a tte ntion in the odde st wa y. W a s T a te ’s cock long? T hick? D id it ha ng he a vy whe n he got out of the showe r? We re the re sca rs? (Poor ba by, le t the re not be

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sca rs!) W e re the re pie rcings? W a s the ha ir the sa me da rk, inky color a s the ha ir on his he a d? A nd tha t wa sn’t the only pa rt of Ta te ’s body tha t se e me d to ha ve ca pture d B ria n’s a tte ntion, e ithe r. T he slope of his ba ck, the inde nta tion of his wa ist, the subtle pla ce me nt of sma ll, se cre t mole s on his unsca rre d shoulde r… sudde nly, B ria n wa s thinking of the se things a s he fe ll a sle e p a t night. H e wa s dre a ming of the m, a nd wa king up with a ha nd on his ha rd cock a nd swe a t-sticky skin, una ble to te ll the de ta ils of the dre a ms, just tha t the y ma de his he a rt pound in his groin a nd his bre a th come in stra ngle d pa nts from his che st. H e be ga n to ha ve some suspicions tha t he wa sn’t a s stra ight a s he ’d thought he wa s, but it wa sn’t until T a te ca me home tha t night, a ll e xcite d a bout a n upcoming la te -night da te with a nothe r ba r-ba ck, tha t B ria n re a lly kne w tha t his roomma te me a nt more to him tha n his girlfrie nd. T a te ha dn’t ha d se x ye t. It ha d be e n a pa inful a dmission to B ria n one night a fte r V irginia ha d le ft. H e ’d “foole d a round” a little ; lots of kissing a t pa rtie s, some groping or “frotting” a s he ca lle d it, but no… no skin on skin. N o intima cy. N o ha ving his body e nve lope d by a nothe r’s a nd fe e ling ca re d for. Love d. O f course those ha dn’t be e n his words, but he ’d be e n so tra nspa re nt—a t le a st to B ria n. T a te ’s fa the r ha d ca lle d once in the nine or so months since the y’d be e n roomma te s. T a te wa s spa ring with his fa mily history, but a ppa re ntly de a r ol’ da d ha d be e n de cla re d incompe te nt a s a pa re nt, a nd Ta te ha d spe nt a lot of ye a rs in foste r ca re . T ha t wa s, he a dmitte d ca ndidly, how he got his schola rship—the big pity ca rd, a s he ca lle d it. Appa re ntly, tha t didn’t stop “D a d” from inflicting a s much da ma ge a s he could, e ve n long dista nce .

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T he ca ll ha d come on T a te ’s birthda y. T a te ha d picke d up the phone , liste ne d for a mome nt, a nd sa id, “Y e s, D a d. Still ga y.” B ria n ha d he a rd the pe jora tive word on the othe r e nd of the phone e ve n from a cross the room. It e choe d from the wa lls a s T a te put the re ce ive r ge ntly ba ck into the cha rge r. B ria n ha d wa lke d a cross the room, gra bbe d T a te ’s ha nd, a nd sa id, “C ’mon.” “W he re we going?” “D inne r. It’s your birthda y.” “Y ou don’t ha ve a ny mone y!” B ria n wa s pe rpe tua lly broke —no schola rship, no ca sh, just tha t simple . “D on’t ca re .” B ria n ha d ne e de d to hit his a unt up for T op R a me n mone y a nd pota toe s from the ga rde n tha t we e k, but he didn’t ca re . It wa s worth it to ta ke T a te to R e d R obin a nd tre a t him to a ha mburge r, ta lk a bout music tha t B ria n ha d ne ve r he a rd of, ge t the wa ite rs to sing to him ove r a me lting ba ll of ice cre a m, a nd ma ke the me mory of tha t word fa de fore ve r by linge ring for a n hour ove r the bottomle ss pit of frie s. S o he ’d thought his obse ssion might just be compa ssion, fa scina tion for some one who wa s so da mne d tough a nd so da mne d hurt both a t the sa me time , until T a te brought home B la iz e with a Z , who ha d a sha ve d he a d a nd spa rkly gre e n e ye sha dow a nd ga uge s a s big a s a qua rte r in his e a rlobe s. H e a lso ha d a full, lush mouth, a nd swe e t, promine nt cla vicle s, a nd his ga ngly a rms a nd a long, trim wa ist. It wa s e a sy to se e a lot of tha t be ca use he wore a fishne t ta nk top with his rippe d je a ns. T a te ha d looke d a t B la iz e like he wa s a la st, be st hope , ca lle d “B e good to him, V irginia !” down the ha ll, a nd the n twitche d out of the house with a flirty little wa ve a nd a hope ful wink, le a ving B ria n to wa nde r into the be droom in a da ze .

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V irginia looke d up from the movie she wa s wa tching on his la ptop a nd smile d. S he wa s ca sua lly dre sse d in shorts a nd a T shirt, a nd he r fe e t in the ir little bobby-sox we re swinging ove r he r bottom a s she la y on he r stoma ch a cross the be d. H e r da rk ha ir spille d from a ponyta il—she wa s a s swe e t a girl a s he ha d e ve r me t. “Y o, B ria n? Your goldfish die ?” B ria n je rke d his a tte ntion a wa y from the close d door down the ha ll a nd his worry for Ta lke r. “G oldfish?” “U hm, ye a h. Y ou look, you know, a little de pre sse d?” B ria n shrugge d, not sure he could put words to his une a sine ss. O f course , words we re n’t B ria n’s thing a nywa y. “H e … he didn’t look strong e nough,” wa s wha t he sa id, a nd V irginia turne d to him, surprise d. “S trong e nough for wha t?” B ria n sighe d a nd sa t down on the be d ne xt to he r. H e like d touching he r—he r skin wa s soft a nd she e njoye d the simplicity of a ha nd on the sma ll of he r ba ck. T ha t wa sn’t why he ca re d a bout he r, though. W ha t he re a lly like d wa s he r kind soul, quick wit, a nd incre dible pa tie nce whe n B ria n took his time following tha t quickne ss with his own me thodica l bra in. V irginia wa s good pe ople . “H e ne e ds some one strong,” he sa id a fte r a mome nt. “S ome one he ca n count on. I don’t think this guy ca n count on himse lf to brush his own te e th on a re gula r ba sis.” H e shook his he a d. “T a lke r ca n do be tte r.” V irginia ha d grinne d ge ntly. “W e ll, ba by, it’s not like he ca n clone you, right?” B ria n ne ve r kne w wha t wa s in his smile a t tha t mome nt, but V irginia ’s e xpre ssion a lte re d subtly, a nd she re a che d up to kiss him with hunge r. H e re turne d the kiss, a nd the y ma de love . S he sta rte d

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out sta rving, vora cious, be gging him for pa ssion, a nd he re turne d with te chnique . It wa s wha t he ha d. S ome whe re be twe e n the two, it turne d into good-bye . In the a fte rma th, the y we re lying in be d, fa cing e a ch othe r, a nd V irginia touche d his fa ce . “I would ha ve ma rrie d you,” she sa id softly, he r e ye s shiny in the light from the stre e tla mp outside . H e frowne d. “A re we bre a king up?” A t tha t mome nt the front door ope ne d, a nd the y could he a r T a te moving a round in the ha llwa y. H e wa s trying to be ste a lthy, but he fa ile d a t it—too much pe nt-up e ne rgy for tha t. B e side s— e ve n the ra cke t of his comba t boots couldn’t stifle the sound of his quie t sniffling. B ria n stra ighte ne d up in be d a nd frowne d a t V irginia . “O h ge e z … I wonde r wha t ha ppe ne d.” “W e broke up,” she sa id quie tly, but he sca rce ly he a rd he r— a nd ce rta inly didn’t cre dit he r. H e sta rte d se a rching for his sle e p shorts a nd a T -shirt, to go de a l with T a te , a nd V irginia sighe d a nd sa t up in be d. “I’ll be ba ck in a minute ,” he mumble d, a nd one corne r of he r mouth lifte d in a fa int smile . “W on’t be he re ….” S he proba bly sa id some thing e lse , but he wa s out the door by the n, a nd T a te wa s sitting on the ugly pla id couch, wa tching a F rie nds re run on the ir little living room T V a nd e a ting ice cre a m. B ria n sighe d a nd gra bbe d some tissue —if T a lke r wa sn’t ca re ful, he wa s going to ge t guyline r in the ice cre a m, a nd it wa s B ria n’s fa vorite fla vor: gre e n. “W ha t ha ppe ne d?” he a ske d softly, ha nding ove r the tissue . T a te took the tissue a nd ga ve B ria n the ice cre a m. B ria n took some ma ke up-fre e bite s while T a lke r wa s cle a ning up his fa ce .

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“It wa s a big old cluste rfucking fight for the bottom,” T a te sniffle d. “H e wa nte d me to be a ll a lpha a nd shit, a nd I… I ca n’t do tha t. S ome one ’s got to ta ke cha rge , some one ha s to sa y wha t goe s whe re , a nd he ke pt e xpe cting me to do it a nd I don’t know wha t I’m doing a nymore tha n he doe s, a nd ne xt thing I know we ’re ha ving this big old bitchy fight a nd he ca lle d me a spa z z a nd I just… just le ft. A ll he wa nte d to do wa s scre w, but we couldn’t e ve n ge t tha t down. I could ha ve e ve n just wa tche d T V or gone to a movie , but we ha d to ge t into a big ol’ fight on the pitche r’s mound, you know?” B ria n took a bite of ice cre a m a nd re fle cte d tha t he ha d no ide a wha t his roomma te wa s ta lking a bout, a nd he sa id so. S ome whe re in the middle of T a te ’s e xpla na tion of who “pitche d” a nd who “ca ught” in ma n-on-ma n a na l se x, Virginia ca me down the ha llwa y, comple te ly dre sse d. B ria n looke d up from his ice cre a m a nd offe re d he r a bite , a nd she shook he r he a d with a n incre dibly sa d smile , the n be nt ove r the ba ck of the couch a nd kisse d his che e k. “I’ll bring ba ck your shirts tomorrow,” she whispe re d, a nd he looke d a t he r, surprise d. “W e re a lly a re bre a king up?” he a ske d from the couch, ve ry confuse d. V irginia just pa tte d his che e k lightly, ga ve T a te a longsuffe ring look, a nd sa id, “W e ’ll ta lk tomorrow.” B ria n ha d spe nt the re st of the night consoling T a te , only a little curious a bout wha t ha d just ha ppe ne d. B y morning, he kne w wha t a “fight for the bottom” me a nt. B y the a fte rnoon, he a nd V irginia ha d ta lke d a nd crie d a nd ye lle d a nd fought a nd hugge d, a nd he fina lly re a liz e d why he should ca re who “pitche d” a nd who “ca ught” whe n two me n we re na ke d a nd pa nting a nd in the mood to ha ve se x.

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V IR G IN IA . T ha t wa s B ria n’s first thought a s he picke d himse lf up off the floor a nd wobble d into his room. H e put his running shoe s a wa y a nd cha nge d into a pa ir of je a ns a nd a T -shirt. T ha t wa s it. P la in a nd fa de d je a ns. G ra y T -shirt, la unde re d so soft it wa s thin in pla ce s. B ria n like d things pla in a nd simple . T a te wa s the most complica te d thing in his life . E ve n V irginia wa s simple —but he wa s positive tha t V irginia could he lp him out with this. W hy not? V irginia ha d be e n the one to he lp him out of the close t—why couldn’t she he lp him with T a lke r? H e r siste r a nswe re d whe n he ca lle d he r house . A ppa re ntly V irginia couldn’t he lp him with T a te be ca use she wa s a wa y for the we e ke nd with he r ne w boyfrie nd—he r stra ight boyfrie nd, A le x, who looke d a lot like B ria n e xce pt he wouldn’t le a ve he r na ke d in be d for his distra ught ma le roomma te for a million dolla rs a nd cha nge . O h cra p. H e close d his e ye s a nd trie d to think—he wa sn’t ve ry good a t it. T a te wa s the one who could think of things. T a te told B ria n which da ys to a sk off, so the y could se e movie pre mie re s toge the r on a ma tine e price . H e he lpe d B ria n with his pa pe rs— E nglish or H istory, T a lke r wa s the re , a sking B ria n a thousa nd que stions until B ria n could write the pa pe r a nd not fe e l like a comple te idiot. Ta te figure d out the budge t a nd clippe d fre e coupons, so the y could occa siona lly a fford piz z a , a nd so B ria n could buy some thing be side s Top R a me n a nd pota toe s a t the groce ry store . T a te ’s light-spe e d-twitch-o-ma tic bra in could ta lk a stra nge r to spa tte ring come a cross the ba ck wa ll of a public toile t in a crowde d club, a nd B ria n’s fly-in-the -oa tme a l gra y ma tte r couldn’t find a wa y to sa y “I’m ga y a nd I love you,” a nd ma ke it stick. W onde rful. F ucking wonde rful.

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H e took a de e p bre a th a nd sa t on his be d a nd trie d to think a bout V irginia —she wa s a lwa ys so kind a nd ha d so much common se nse . P a rts of the ir discussion the night a fte r T a te ha d his he a rt broke n (the first time ) ha d be e n price le ss.

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P a rt IV T he P a in of A lmost T ouching “V IR G INIA … come on….” V irginia ha d rolle d he r e ye s. “You think I’m full of shit?” “I just ca re a bout the guy… he doe sn’t ha ve a nyone e lse .” V irginia sighe d a nd rubbe d he r re d e ye s with the he e l of he r ha nd. T he y we re both tire d: V irginia a ppa re ntly be ca use she ha d be e n up thinking a bout him, a nd B ria n be ca use he ha d be e n up ta lking to T a te . “B ria n, do you ha ve a ny porn?” she a ske d a t la st, se e mingly a t ra ndom. H e flushe d. “N o.” H e didn’t ha ve a ny porn. It just se e me d… odd… no ma tte r how pe rsona l his compute r wa s suppose d to be . “O ka y—he re . G ive me five minute s a nd your compute r—I wa nt you to se e a couple of things.” W a s the re a nything more e mba rra ssing tha n ha ving your soon-to-be -e x-girlfrie nd pulling up porn on your compute r? B ria n wa sn’t a llowe d to wa tch wha t she chose , but whe n he ca me ba ck in the room, she sa id, “Le t’s ca ll this a n e xpe rime nt in he te rose xua lity, ba be . H e re .” She clicke d “pla y” on a sma ll vide o, a nd the n stood up a nd move d ba ck to le t B ria n sit a t the de sk a nd wa tch….

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W a tch two wome n, licking e a ch othe r’s pink a nd swolle n vulva with joy, gusto, a nd a lot of moa ning. B ria n blushe d a nd looke d a wa y, a nd V irginia ’s firm ha nds turne d him ba ck to the scre e n. But it wa s just so e mba rra ssing. T he girls… the y we re using finge rs a nd tongue s, probing gliste ning, quive ring slits of fle sh a nd pucke re d little a nuse s—it just se e me d too pe rsona l to wa tch. B ria n squirme d with mortifica tion, but—a s V irginia ’s ha rd ha nd a t the fly of his je a ns prove d a fte r one of the most uncomforta ble mome nts of his life —he did not ge t a rouse d. “O ka y,” she sa id softly, whe n he wouldn’t me e t he r e ye s. “N ow, pha se two.” P ha se two wa s a simila r vide o—but this time it wa s two me n, ne ithe r of whom looke d like T a te . B ria n gla re d a t he r, a nd she turne d him towa rd the scre e n, a nd he found himse lf fa scina te d. He could ba re ly look a t the ir e quipme nt—tha t just se e me d so pe rsona l, like it did with the girls—but he like d looking a t the slope of the ir shoulde rs, the cre a se s in the ir thighs, the ta ut stoma chs a nd tiny little na ve ls. E ve ntua lly one of the me n e nde d up on his ha nds a nd kne e s a nd the guy be hind him dumpe d lubrica nt on his finge rs a nd be ga n to pe ne tra te , ge ntly, one finge r a t a time . T he guy re ce iving (bottoming, tha t wa s the te rm) ha d his e ye s close d a nd his mouth ope n, a nd he wa s shudde ring with the force of his a rousa l, a nd the guy be hind him re a che d down a nd kisse d his shoulde r, the ba ck of his ne ck, e ve n a s tha t tre a che rous ha nd pla ye d a nd stre tche d a nd pe ne tra te d. B ria n couldn’t he lp but wa tch a s the “top” rolle d a condom up his cock, a nd he wa tche d with fa scina tion, be ca use the cock wa s longe r a nd slimme r tha n B ria n’s. Bria n’s lips pa rte d, a nd his bre a th ca me a little fa ste r, a nd he wonde re d wha t it would be like to hold a nothe r ma n’s cock, wha t it would fe e l like in his ha nds, a nd whe the r it would throb in his pa lm the wa y tha t one looke d like it wa s….

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V irginia ’s ha nd on his crotch wa s we lcome , be ca use his cock wa s ha rd a nd a ching, a nd he groa ne d a little a nd pushe d up a ga inst he r. V e ry ge ntly, she pulle d his ha nd from his side a nd pla ce d it down his pa nts. H e didn’t e ve n ha ve to ma ke conta ct with his own skin be fore he cre a me d in his je a ns, ha rd a nd viole ntly. W he n he wa s done , he wa s sitting a t his de sk a s the re st of the sce ne pla ye d out in front of him, a nd V irginia ve ry quie tly close d his compute r a nd force d him to look he r in the e ye s. “Y e a h,” she sa id, he r voice e dgy, a nd he didn’t bla me he r. “Le t’s ha ve this conve rsa tion hone stly, oka y?” T he y did. But first he ne e de d a showe r a nd a cha nge of clothe s—a nd a long, inte nse bout of soul se a rching a s he wa s cle a ning the come off his skin.

B R IA N re me mbe re d tha t mome nt—would re me mbe r it for his e ntire life , in vivid color—be ca use V irginia ha d ta ught him more tha n just his own se xua lity. S he ta ught him tha t some time s, whe n some one wa s in e motiona l de nia l, the y ne e de d proof of how wrong the y re a lly we re . S ome time s the y ne e de d a ctions inste a d of words. S ome time s, the y ne e de d some one to ma ke the ha rd de cision or to sa y the pa inful thing, or the y would be lost a nd locke d in the ir own he a rts fore ve r. W ith a sigh he floppe d ba ckwa rd on his be d, close d his e ye s, a nd be ga n to pla n. O ka y, so the proble m wa sn’t tha t T a te didn’t be lie ve tha t B ria n love d him, it wa s tha t he didn’t unde rsta nd how B ria n love d him. W ha t wa s he doing wrong? B ria n kne w he wa s ga y. A fte r his conve rsa tion with V irginia , he ’d be e n re lucta nt to ta lk to T a te a bout it be ca use he wa sn’t sure if

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he wa s a ttra cte d to T a te be ca use he wa s ma le , or be ca use he wa s T a te . V irginia ha d he lpe d him out with tha t too. S he ’d ta ke n him to a fe w pa rtie s—the kind tha t nice girls from the suburbs shouldn’t know a bout but did—a nd he ’d e nde d up in da rke ne d corne rs of a lie n rooms, ma king out with pre tty boys who ve ry ra re ly a ske d his na me . H e ha d e njoye d the m. H e ’d put his ha nds on the ir na rrow, ta pe re d wa ists a nd fe lt tight ribs a nd ta ut, muscula r stoma chs unde r his pa lms. H e ’d e njoye d the fe e l of ha rd ha nds on his che st, a nd strong, rough twe a ks to his nipple s, a nd he love d the fe e l of stubble ne xt to his che e k. T ouching his lips to a ma n’s ne ck a ctua lly ma de him shudde r with ne e d, in a wa y tha t coming inside a woma n ha d ne ve r done , a nd he ’d wa lke d a wa y from e ve ry pa rty more a nd more sure tha t this wa s the ma n he re a lly wa s. B ut the ma n he wa s, re a lly, wa s the ma n who a lwa ys stoppe d the se ra ndom me n from re a ching into his je a ns a nd ge tting more pe rsona l tha n just ne cking a t a pa rty. T he first time some one ha d trie d it, he ’d e xpe rie nce d a jolt of a ctua l sha me . It ha d fe lt disloya l to T a te . T he la st time he ’d gone to a pa rty with V irginia , he wa s pre tty sure he wouldn’t be a ble to e ve n kiss a nothe r ma n—a nd he ’d be e n right. H e a nd his chose n ta rge t ha d e nde d up drinking te quila a ll night long, a nd B ria n’s only me mory of the night wa s of spilling out his pa inful, ble e ding love for his roomma te on the ta ble in front of a tota l stra nge r. W hich wa s the re a son it wa s his la st pa rty, re a lly. A nd the ne xt morning ha d be e n a re ve la tion to itse lf.

“W H Y don’t you te ll him?” V irginia ha d a ske d the ne xt morning a s she nurse d him through a ha ngove r.

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“I did. I told him tha t I love d him.” H e ’d ha d to. It ha d be e n ne ce ssa ry. T a te ha d be e n ge tting re a dy for work, a bsolute ly gushing a bout the cute custome r tha t T a te wa s a bsolute ly sure wa s coming in for T a te a nd T a te a lone , a nd B ria n ha d sa id, “W hy do you ne e d him? I love you!” “W ha t did he sa y?” V irginia a ske d. “T ha t it wa s too ba d I wa sn’t ga y, be ca use the n it could go some whe re .” B ria n ha d groa ne d in mortifica tion. H e ’d ne ve r told a girl he love d he r—e xce pt V irginia , a fte r tha t da y with the porn on the compute r. It ha d be e n the one time the words ha dn’t fe lt like a lie . “U hm, did you me ntion the ga y thing?” she ’d a ske d, giving him a big gla ss of wa te r a nd a couple of T yle nol. “I thought tha t wa s implicit in the ‘I love you’.” B ria n scowle d a t he r. W a sn’t it? V irginia ha d ra ise d he r e ye brows a nd che we d thoughtfully on he r lowe r lip. “G ue ss not,” she sa id a t la st. “Ma ybe you ca n’t re a lly se ll the ‘I love you’ to the guy unle ss you se ll the ‘I’m ga y’ to e ve ryfuckingbody e lse .” W e ll, it ma de se nse . Ta te wa s so fla mboya nt—ma ke up, glitz y, glitte ring shirts, ra inbow e a rrings in his pie rce d lobe —a ll of it wa s de signe d to ma ke pe ople look a t his ga yne ss, a nd not a t the vulne ra ble huma n unde rne a th a ll the tra ppings of it. “B e side s,” V irginia sa id softly, “I’m not sure if it’s e ve n re a l to you ye t.” B ria n thought a bout T a te , sta nding a t the counte r, doing dishe s a nd singing a song from R e po: T he G e ne tic O pe ra in his fre ne tic, tone -de a f wa y.

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“It’s re a l,” he sa id, re me mbe ring the wa y T a te would close his e ye s a nd bob his he a d a s his ha nds we re on a utopilot ove r the che a p pla stic pla te s. “Y e a h?” V irginia ’s voice wa s e dgy a ga in, a nd he sna ppe d his a tte ntion to he r inste a d of his wa ywa rd, wistful me morie s. “B e side s ra ndom pa rty-guys, who in your life knows you’re ga y?” “T he re ’s not tha t ma ny pe ople in my life , V irginia ,” he told he r hone stly. “Just you, T a te , a nd my A unt Lyndse y. T he pe ople I work with, I gue ss, but, you know, I’m not tight with the m. W hy do the y ne e d to know?” V irginia sighe d a nd ruffle d his ha ir. “O migod, B ria n—no wonde r you didn’t re cogniz e your own close t. Y ou’ve live d in one a ll your life .” B ria n gla re d a t he r. “W ha t doe s tha t me a n?” G od! V irginia , T a te —why did he se e m to like pe ople who ma de him fe e l stupid? A nothe r sigh. “O ka y. O ka y oka y oka y oka y oka y. H e re ’s how I’m re a ding it. I think tha t you didn’t wa nt to a dmit you’re ga y be ca use it would ha ve me a nt ne e ding more tha n a bsolute ly ne ce ssa ry. I me a n… se riously. B ria n—you’re use d to living on no mone y, with ha rdly a ny fa mily, a nd just e nough colle ge pre pa ra tion to ma ke you fe e l tota lly stupid whe n you’re a ctua lly in your cla sse s….” “I wa s home schoole d!” he prote ste d, a nd she rolle d he r e ye s. “B y a n a rtist—a nd I know your a unt is brillia nt, but you we re n’t re a dy whe n you got he re . A nyone could se e it.” “It’s not he r fa ult I’m stupid,” he prote ste d, be ca use a nything tha t sounde d like a sla m on his Aunt Lyndie just ha d to ha ve a nothe r e xpla na tion. V irginia shook he r he a d the n a nd ma de a horrible , stra ngle d sound. “It’s a good thing we ’re not toge the r a nymore ,” she

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mutte re d, “be ca use you a re bre a king my godda mne d he a rt. Look, ba be . H e re ’s the de a l.” T he y we re sitting on the ugly pla id couch, a nd she squa re d he rse lf to fa ce him, those da rk brown e ye s se rious a nd unre le nting. “It’s like I sa id: he ’s not going to buy it unle ss you ca n se ll it. S o, like , how ’bout you se lling it, oka y? T hink a bout it. N e xt time a pre tty girl flirts with you, te ll he r stra ight up you don’t swing tha t wa y. If it’s a guy, te ll him you’re in love with a nothe r guy. If the subje ct of ga y rights come s up in a conve rsa tion, a ctua lly ope n your godda mne d mouth a nd ta lk. Y ou ma ke sure the whole da mne d world knows who you a re , a nd ma ybe T a te will se e it in you.” B ria n looke d a t he r bla nkly. “G irls flirt with me ?” T he y must, he thought be la te dly, be ca use he ’d e nde d up be dding more tha n his fa ir sha re , but he couldn’t re me mbe r how it ha d ha ppe ne d. O ne minute he ’d be ta lking to a girl a nd e njoying he r compa ny, la ughing a t he r joke s, smiling a t he r ha ppily be ca use he wa s ha ving a good time , a nd the ne xt minute , she ’d ha ve he r tongue down his throa t. T he re ha dn’t be e n a ny rhyme or re a son to it, it just wa s . C ome to think a bout it, the boys tha t he ’d kisse d ha d be e n the sa me wa y. T he look of bla nk de spa ir on V irginia ’s fa ce ma de him fe e l stupid a ll ove r a ga in. “I’m a t a loss,” she sa id, a lmost to he rse lf. “I’m a t a comple te loss. Y ou a nd me toge the r? It wa s like me thinking I wa s in the kiddie pool whe n I wa s re a lly in Loch N e ss. S we a rta god, it’s just no godda mne d fa ir a t a ll.”

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P a rt V W he re ve r Y ou W a nt T o B R IA N still didn’t know wha t she ’d me a nt by him be ing Loch N e ss, but he ’d ke pt it in mind. T he proble m wa s, he re a lly didn’t ta lk to a nyone but T a te . He ’d ma na ge d to put one girl off with “I’m sorry, but I’m a ctua lly ga y,” a nd she ha d shrugge d a nd sa id it wa s too ba d, but it didn’t fe e l like a n e a rth-sha tte ring pe rsona l mome nt. Ma ybe he ha d to do it until it didn’t ma ke his ha nds cla mmy, but he wa sn’t sure tha t wa s e ve r going to ha ppe n. A nd tha t wa sn’t some thing tha t wa s going to be fixe d right now. W ha t ne e de d to be fixe d right now wa s T a te , a nd the te rrible , stoma ch-churning fe a r tha t e ve ry time his roomma te we nt into the ba throom to bring some stra nge r off, he ’d be se lling a little pie ce of his soul tha t would be ne a rly impossible to re cove r. B ria n ha d ne ve r fe lt so he lple ss a bout some thing so importa nt in his life . A nd tha t wa s wha t pe ne tra te d his confusion. H e wa s he lple ss. T he re wa s one pe rson in his life who could he lp him whe n he wa s like this. It wa s the pe rson who ha d a rrive d a t the hospita l whe n he ’d be e n six with a suitca se of his clothe s a nd his fa vorite toys a nd sa id, “C ’mon, ba by. Le t’s ge t out of he re , oka y? It’s you a nd me , a nd I ha te this pla ce .”

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Lyndse y C oope r wa s B ria n’s only living fa mily. S he ma de a thin living off he r pa intings, a nd live d in a sma ll, thre e -room ca bin on a frie nd’s prope rty in G ra ss V a lle y. The da y she ’d come to pick B ria n up from the hospita l, she ’d be e n we a ring a loose , flowe re d dre ss a nd wore he r ha ir in ble a che d dre a dlocks. A t home , she wore je a ns. In public, it wa s pure flowe r child. A lthough the ha ir ha d cha nge d, the clothing ha d not, a nd whe n B ria n ha d a ske d he r a bout it once , she ’d re plie d with a shrug.

I’m just dre ssing the pa rt, ba by. T he world e xpe cts ce rta in looks from ce rta in pe ople . A nd now, thinking a bout his A unt Lyndie , B ria n fe lt the be ginnings of a pla n knitting with tiny stitche s in the pudding of his bra in. H e pulle d out his ce ll phone a nd dia le d Lyndie ’s numbe r, hoping she wouldn’t worry be ca use he wa s ca lling thre e da ys a fte r his usua l S unda y ca ll. “H e y, ba by, wha t’s sha kin’?” Lyndie a lwa ys sounde d ha ppy to he a r from him. H e should ha ve known be tte r tha n to worry. “Lyndie ,” he sa id with a swa llow, “I… I ne e d to come up toda y, is tha t oka y?” “A bsolute ly. Is a nything wrong?” B ria n blinke d, a nd re a liz e d tha t this wa s wha t V irginia wa s ta lking a bout whe n it ca me to a nnouncing stuff to the world. “W e ll, I’ve got some thing to te ll you, a nd some a dvice to a sk you, a nd I ne e d some he lp. B ut mostly, it’s a bout my roomma te , a nd….” “A nd it’s a long story. N o worrie s. S e e you in a n hour, oka y?” It wa s a t le a st a n hour to G ra ss V a lle y. “Ma ke it two,” he sa id, re lie ve d a nd ha ppy just to he a r he r voice , ma king it sound like the re wa s nothing the y couldn’t ha ndle toge the r. It wa s how she ’d gotte n him through his childhood, how he ’d ma de it through his te e n ye a rs—e ve ry la id-ba ck,

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nonjudgme nta l, quie tly optimistic fibe r of B ria n’s be ing, he owe d to his A unt Lyndie ’s unconditiona l love . “T wo?” “Y e a h. I’ve got some shit to do in the me a ntime .” T he first thing he ha d to do wa s ge t the night off work. H e ma de some ca lls—one of his coworke rs ha d a ne w ba by a nd wa s consta ntly broke . B ria n kne w for a fa ct tha t T ue sda ys we re R a y’s usua l da y off, a nd R a y wa s gra te ful for the e xtra shift. “W ha t’s the de a l?” Ra y a ske d ove r the phone . “G ot a hot da te ?” “N a w,” B ria n mumble d, his pa lms swe a ting a lre a dy. “Just boyfrie nd trouble s.” “B umme r,” R a y sa id, his voice unsurprise d. “W e ll, good luck the re , buddy.” T he re wa s a cry in the ba ckground—but close e nough to the phone to give B ria n the ima ge of a ba by be ing rocke d by Ra y R uiz , the close st thing he ha d to a frie nd a t work. “A t le a st you not going to e nd up with no ba by-ma ke s-thre e !” he sa id, his voice rising a s the noise e sca la te d. B ria n la ughe d polite ly a nd ra ng off, wishing Ra y ha d be e n a ble to ta lk for a minute . E ve n though B ria n wa s horrible a t sma ll ta lk, he wa sn’t looking forwa rd to this ne xt pa rt of his pla n.

If you wa nt him to buy it, you ne e d to se ll it. I’m just dre ssing the pa rt, ba by. T wo of the pe ople he ca re d a bout most we re ta lking in his e a r, a nd he couldn’t shout the m down. B e side s, he thought mise ra bly a s he stood in front of the mirror with the clippe rs tha t T a te ke pt in the ba throom for da ily touch-ups, it’s only ha ir. It wa s only ha ir—but it wa s his ha ir, a nd he like d it, a nd he e ve n like d it long, a lthough he usua lly ke pt it tha t wa y be ca use

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ha ircuts we re e xpe nsive a nd it wa s e a sie r to ge t it cut short a nd go a long time be twe e n the m tha n it wa s to ke e p the m up. A s he took the clippe rs, se t a t thre e , cle a nly a long the side of his he a d from his te mple to his na pe , a nd the n a long the othe r side , he trie d not to whimpe r. Long swa ths of whe a t-colore d ha ir fe ll into the sink, a nd his fa ce e me rge d from the fa ll of it, sta rk a nd re cta ngula r, with a n a ngula r chin a nd a le a n mouth. T oo e xpose d, he thought, shive ring, a nd he looke d dole fully a t the ha ir. A s he cle a ne d it up, he console d himse lf with the ide a tha t, whe n this wa s ove r a nd he ’d ma de his gra nd roma ntic ge sture , he ’d fix it. W he n T a te wa s a ll right, he ’d le t it grow out on the side s a nd tre a t himse lf to a nice , conse rva tive we dge -cut. H e gra bbe d some of T a te ’s sma ll bla ck e la stic ba nds a nd put the re ma ining long strip of ha ir from his fore he a d to his crown in a punky-looking ponyta il, a nd took stock. It wa sn’t e nough, he thought disma lly. H e wa s de finite ly going to ne e d A unt Lyndie ’s he lp. B ut first he ha d to come cle a n—a nd ma ybe not with his se cre t a lone . T he drive up to G ra ss V a lle y wa s re a lly long without T a te plugging his iP od into the ca sse tte pla ye r a nd ta lking B ria n’s e a r off. T he la st fe w time s he ’d be e n up to se e Lyndie , T a te ha d be e n by his side , e xcite d a bout ge tting out of S a cra me nto, since , short of the colle ge s the y we nt to on the ir tra ck me e ts, it wa s the only town he ’d e ve r known. Lyndie wa s working in he r ga rde n, we a ring a pa ir of ma n’s workout shorts a nd a ma n’s sle e ve le ss ta nk top, both of which we re full of hole s a nd ble a ch sta ins, a nd B ria n wonde re d if Lyndse y ha dn’t be e n ra iding he r ne ighbor’s G oodwill ca stoffs a ga in. S he ’d done it whe n he wa s a kid, with impunity a nd no re morse . A s B ria n ha d grown, most of his “pla y clothe s” ha d come from the ca stoff pile tha t got put out with the tra sh thre e time s a ye a r. T he ne ighbors

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ha d se e n him in the ir clothe s a fte r a bit a nd sta rte d just le a ving the good stuff on Lyndse y’s porch. S he wa s gra te ful e nough to pa int the m a love ly little wa te rcolor of the ir house in the sunshine , down the re d-dirt hill a nd surrounde d by pine tre e s. T he ne ighbors ha d be e n impre sse d e nough to sta rt throwing in some ne w clothe s in a n a ppropria te siz e for B ria n—a nd he ’d ma na ge d to ma ke it through his we e kly visits with the home schooling ca dre without too much ridicule . H e ’d be e n gra te ful e nough to mow the ir la wn whe ne ve r he mowe d his a unt’s, a nd the cycle of be ing good ne ighbors a nd re source ful huma n be ings ha d continue d. It wa s a pa rt of his upbringing he ’d a lwa ys be gra te ful for. A s wa s Lyndse y’s e nthusia stic, no-holds-ba rre d hug a s he ste ppe d out of his twe nty-ye a r-old gre e n T oyota . “H e y the re , ba by!” she sa id swe e tly. H e r ha ir—which should ha ve be e n gra y right now—wa s dye d a solid, ra ve n’s-wing bla ck, a nd it hung down he r ba ck from a ba nd a t he r crown. H e r fa ce showe d he r fifty ye a rs, but he r smile wa s just a s young a s tha t ha ir. “T he ha ircut’s ne w—you going to ke e p it?” B ria n shook his he a d. “It’s sort of a sta te me nt,” he sa id, quirking his lips. H e thre w a n a rm ove r he r shoulde r a nd re a liz e d for the first time how fra gile she fe lt. T iny a nd sma ll-bone d she ha d a lwa ys be e n, but ma ybe it wa s B ria n’s ne w se nsibility to T a te tha t le ft him re e ling with his a unt’s morta lity a nd vulne ra bility he re in the hills a lone . H e would de finite ly visit more ofte n, he told himse lf firmly. If nothing e lse , he kne w she ’d sha re ve ge ta ble s from the ga rde n with him, a nd T a te a lwa ys like d fre sh toma toe s. A unt Lyndie took him into the kitche n a nd poure d him some ice d te a into one of the je lly ja rs tha t we re so old, the y we re a ctua lly gla ss. S he wa s good a t te a —ha d a lwa ys ha d a t le a st two doz e n

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type s in he r cupboa rds, a nd kne w the use s for e ve rything from cha momile to rose hips. T oda y’s ble nd wa s a mix of both of those , a ctua lly, a nd B ria n a dde d a libe ra l dose of suga r a nd le mon a nd sippe d a ppre cia tive ly while Lyndie poure d he rse lf a gla ss a nd sa t pa tie ntly a t the sma ll, ha nd-ca rve d woode n ta ble a nd wa ite d for him to spe a k. (Much of wha t wa s in Lyndie ’s home wa s e ithe r ha ndca rve d or ha nd-me -down. T he a rtist community in P la ce r C ounty wa s close -knit a nd be lie ve d ve ry firmly in utiliz ing re source s to the ir fulle st.) “S o, ba by,” she prompte d ge ntly a fte r a mome nt, “wha t’s the ma tte r?” B ria n sighe d. S e ll it to the world a nd ma ybe he ’ll buy it. “I’m ga y, A unt Lyndie —but tha t’s not a ctua lly the proble m.” A unt Lyndie blinke d a nd frowne d a little , a s though trying to put toge the r a puz z le . “S o, a ll those girls you we re with, growing up?” B ria n shrugge d. “Y e a h—I don’t know how tha t ha ppe ne d. T he y just….” H e flushe d. “T he y wa nte d me , a nd, you know, the y we re nice , but the y we re n’t… we re n’t….” “W e re n’t wha t you wa nte d.” O h G od. A unt Lyndie kne w. H e should ha ve known she ’d ge t it. B ria n swa llowe d thickly. “Y e a h.” Lyndie smile d a nd pa tte d his ha nd. “W e ll, if it ma ke s you ha ppy, I’m oka y with the ga y thing—you should know tha t. I’m ha ppy you found tha t out for yourse lf, a nd I’m re a lly gla d it’s not a proble m,” she sa id since re ly, a nd took a nothe r sip of he r te a . “T ha t’s a ll?” Lyndie shrugge d. “B ria n, ba by, I’ve ra ise d you since you we re a rug ra t. Y ou think some thing like tha t is going to ma tte r?” H e r

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lowe r lip thrust out a nd gre w pouty. “I thought I ta ught you be tte r tha n tha t.” B ria n smile d shyly a t he r. “Y ou ta ught me a we some , A unt Lyndie .” H e shrugge d a nd told he r the truth. “H one stly? I’m just gla d you be lie ve me —be ca use tha t’s sort of my proble m.” A h G od, but it fe lt good to spill out the whole thing to he r. It fe lt good to sit in the kitche n whe re she ’d he lpe d him with his first time s ta ble s a nd he lpe d him write his first words, a nd se t out this ne we r, trickie r proble m a nd a sk for he r he lp to unra ve l it. H ow could he ha ve done this without he r? H e thought of T a te a nd his fa the r’s ugly word ringing through the phone line s, a nd his he a rt ble d a little . T a te ne e de d this. T a te ne e de d to come he re more ofte n a nd spe nd time with Lyndie a nd se e more of he r pre tty, pre tty a rt. H e ne e de d to know tha t B ria n wa sn’t the only pe rson on the pla ne t who could look out for him. W he the r or not T a te love d B ria n ba ck, B ria n ne e de d to bring him he re a ga in, a nd le t him know tha t unconditiona l a cce pta nce wa s not a myth. H e finishe d the story, a nd sa w tha t Lyndie ’s wide , smiling mouth wa s purse d a nd grim. “O h, B ria n. B a by—poor T a te . T his thing he ’s doing. Tha t’s a ba d thing.” B ria n nodde d, re lie ve d. It wa sn’t just him a nd his innoce nce . “It is for him,” B ria n sa id softly. T a te , who wa s so vulne ra ble . T he re we re some guys out the re who could proba bly do this for kicks—but not T a te . T a te wa s doing this be ca use he ne e de d… ne e de d so ba dly a nd so comple te ly tha t he wa s willing to give a wa y pie ce s of himse lf to ge t wha t he ne e de d. “T his….” Lyndse y took a drink of he r te a a nd looke d a t him a ga in. “T his is a se lf-ha ting sort of thing—a t le a st if this kid is like you’ve told me . T ha t doe sn’t se e m like your roomma te , you know? I me a n….” S he sighe d a nd se a rche d for words. “H e se e me d fra gile ,

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whe n you ca me for C hristma s. H e did—I didn’t sa y a nything be ca use I thought you a lre a dy sa w it. B ut he didn’t se e m like this. W ha t a m I missing he re ? W ha t did you le a ve out?” B ria n flushe d a nd looke d a wa y. H e ’d known it might come to this whe n he first ca lle d he r up. “T he thing is,” he sa id, swa llowing, “tha t it’s not re a lly my story to te ll. B ut… but T a te won’t te ll it.” A t le a st not the wa y he should te ll it. “T a te ke e ps sa ying tha t he wa nte d it to ha ppe n, tha t he wa s in control… but… you know, I’ve he a rd girls ta lk, a nd… wha t ha ppe ne d to him wa sn’t right. A nd he won’t a dmit it. H e ….” B ria n’s e ye s we nt hot, a nd his throa t swe lle d tightly, a nd he could ha rdly look a t A unt Lyndie . “H e ke e ps sa ying it wa s his fa ult, a nd it wa sn’t.” Lyndie took a de e p bre a th a nd le t it out in ca re ful shive rs. “O ka y, ba by. Y ou’ve got to te ll me wha t ha ppe ne d. Y ou’ve got to. E ve n if he ’s oka y with it, you’re not. This is hurting you—tha t ma ke s it your story to te ll, oka y? Y ou go a he a d a nd te ll me , oka y?” B ria n nodde d a nd wipe d his e ye s a nd his a unt ga ve him a pa pe r na pkin a nd tha t he lpe d. H e hope d he wouldn’t ha ve to we a r e ye ma ke up like T a te , he thought disma lly, be ca use he ha d a fe e ling tha t be fore this da y wa s ove r, he ’d be crying some more .

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P a rt V I I S hould H a ve B e e n B ra ve T W O da ys a fte r tha t la st disa strous pa rty (the one with the ha ngove r tha t V irginia nurse d him through), B ria n re solve d to te ll T a te tha t he wa s ga y, a nd it wa s love , a nd tha t T a te could stop pla ying the te e na ge d-girl-he -like s-me locke r ga me with the custome r who wa s his la te st crush. O f course , he would come home from school tha t da y a nd find T a te a ll e xcite d a bout his la te st da te . B ria n wa tche d T a te spiking his ha ir, choosing the e xa ct right spa rkly shirt a nd rippe d je a ns, pulling his fa vorite le a the r cuffs a nd studde d colla r out of his dra we r, a nd thought, I’m right he re ! D a mmit, T a te , you don’t ne e d a ll tha t shit, I’m right H E R E !

“A re you sure this is a good ide a ?” he ’d e nde d up a sking we a kly. “Y ou don’t re a lly know a nything a bout this guy.” A w, ge e z … la me much, B ria n? “I me a n—” he close d his e ye s a nd swa llowe d,“—ma ybe you should ha ve him he re for dinne r, or, you know, go to the movie s or some thing.” T a te looke d a t him incre dulously. “I’m not a girl in the V ictoria n a ge , B ria n. I wa nt to ge t la id, re me mbe r? I me a n, I’m giving it up! It’s he re ! It’s fre e ! H ow ba d ca n this go?” It’s fre e ? “W e ll, ma ybe it shouldn’t be fre e !” B ria n sna ppe d. “Ma ybe it’s more va lua ble tha n tha t. Ma ybe you should put a price

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on it, da mmit, a nd wa it for a re la tionship inste a d of some guy you think is going to pop your che rry just be -fucking-ca use !” T a te ’s body ha d give n a convulsive je rk—yup, things just got too inte nse for him, no doubt a bout it. “I’m not into a nything se rious,” he lie d. H e pulle d out fa ce powde r—he got his in the sha de of ghostly white , a nd B ria n re a che d out a sha king ha nd a nd took it from him. “D on’t,” he sa id gruffly, a nd T a te looke d a t him, surprise d. “Y ou put tha t shit on so no one ha s to se e you. I like you. If this guy doe sn’t like you for you, he doe sn’t de se rve to touch you.” T a te ’s A da m’s a pple bobbe d up a nd down se ve ra l time s in quick succe ssion, a nd the skin a round his high che e kbone s gre w tight. “Look, G ra nola ,” he trie d to joke , “not e ve rybody ca n ca rry off the home grown look like you do, oka y? Some of us ne e d a little he lp.” H e re a che d out to ta ke his fa ce powde r ba ck, a nd B ria n found he ’d cle nche d his finge rs a round it fie rce ly. “Y ou spe nd your food mone y on this shit, T a te . I ma y be ‘gra nola ,’ but I’ve got a fe e ling for wha t’s good for you. T his da te … this ide a … the se things a re not good for you.” T a te sighe d a nd looke d down a t his ha nd re a ching for the powde r. It wa s the ha nd with the sca rs, a nd a lthough T a te ha d the e ntire sle e ve ta ttoo done by this time (tha nk you, schola rship), the ha nd wa s too sca rre d to ta ke the ink. It wa s, in fa ct, disfigure d. T he re ha d be e n some muscle da ma ge during the fire a nd two of his finge rs a nd the side of his pa lm we re only pa rtia lly functiona l, a s we ll a s withe re d a nd twiste d. H e ha d a va rie ty of ha lf-finge re d glove s in le a the r, wool, a nd cotton, most of the m bla ck, to cove r his right ha nd, but he wa sn’t we a ring one of those now. A lthough it wa s the ha nd he wrote with, ve ry fe w pe ople gue sse d how ha rd he ha d to work to ma ke tha t ha ppe n.

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“It’s swe e t of you to worry,” he sa id, looking a t his finge rs a s the y touche d B ria n’s. B ria n looke d, too, a nd de libe ra te ly move d his ha nd so tha t it cove re d T a te ’s. “I ca re a bout you,” he sa id roughly, a nd his he a rt sta rte d ha mme ring wildly. T his is it! I’m going to te ll him! I’m going to te ll him a nd he won’t go!

A nd the n the re wa s a diffe re nt sort of ha mme ring. T a te ’s shoulde rs spa sme d a nd he droppe d the powde r. T he ca se sha tte re d a nd the little ca ke inside crumble d on the pe e ling vinyl of the floor. “F uck!” the y both sa id in ta nde m, e xce pt T a te wa s crouching on the ground, picking up the pie ce s, a nd B ria n wa s ste pping a round him to go ge t the broom from the kitche n. “I’ll ge t it!” T a te comma nde d. “Just ge t the door.” T he ha mme ring continue d, a nd B ria n scowle d; the guy sounde d like a n a sshole a lre a dy a nd B ria n ha dn’t e ve n me t him. “T a te , don’t do this,” he sa id quie tly, a nd T a te scowle d up a t him. “B ria n, ma n, I’m sorry I ca lle d you ‘G ra nola ,’ but ple a se … just le t me ha ve a da te . Just le t me ge t this ove r with, you know? Y ou’ve ha d girls like V irginia . I ha ve n’t ha d a nyone .” “Y ou’ve got me !” T a te rolle d his e ye s a nd shook his he a d. “Je sus, try to be se rious with a guy.”

A U N T L Y N D IE he a rd this pa rt of the story a nd shook he r he a d with a smile . “O uch,” she sa id quie tly.

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B ria n looke d a t he r with wide e ye s a nd nodde d. “Y e a h! Tha t’s wha t I’m sa ying!” O h tha nk G od—some one who thought he wa s se rious. “S o, did you te ll him a nd ma ke it stick?” B ria n grima ce d, e mba rra sse d. “I thought I’d wa it until he got ba ck from his da te ,” he sa id with a sigh. “It wa s stupid—I know it wa s stupid. B ut the la st time he we nt out just to ge t la id, it wa s just such a disa ste r. I didn’t e xpe ct….” O h Je sus, he re a lly ha dn’t. “I re a lly didn’t e xpe ct this one to be worse .” Lyndie put down he r ice d te a a nd gra bbe d B ria n’s sha king, cla mmy ha nd. “O ka y,” she sa id, a nd da mn, he thought, she wa s re a lly wise . “In wha t wa y worse ?”

T H E guy’s na me wa s T re vor: he looke d like a ca le nda r pinup a nd kne w it. H e ca st B ria n a sma rmy look a s B ria n ope ne d the door, a nd B ria n re turne d it with a scowl. B a sta rd. E xpe nsive ly cut bla ck ha ir, de signe r je a ns, price y button-up shirt, ce le brity kicks on the fe e t. Like d to show off his mone y like it me a nt some thing. “H e y,” T re vor sa id a s he shook B ria n’s ha nd. “T he stra ight roomma te . H ow you doing, big guy—gonna go ge t la id tonight?” “It’s not on the me nu,” B ria n sa id tightly. “S o wha t did you sa y you did a ga in?” “N ot on the me nu? Too ba d, ma n, be ca use I’m gonna ge t me …” T re vor tra ile d off a s T a te da she d from the ba throom to his be droom, giving a n “in-a -minute ” wa ve a s he we nt, “I’m gonna ge t me some swe e t a ss tonight. T oo ba d you don’t know wha t you’re missing.”

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“T oo ba d you don’t know wha t you’re ge tting,” B ria n mutte re d, a nd T re vor ga ve him a quick look. “W ha t’s tha t?” “H e ’s a good guy. Y ou ne e d to tre a t him nice .” T re vor smirke d. “T ha t kind of kid? H e don’t wa nt to be tre a te d nice , swe e tie —he just wa nts the tre a tme nt, you know wha t I me a n?” “T ha t’s not T a te !” B ria n sa id, fe e ling a na sty bout of worry conge a l in his stoma ch a nd sta rt to fe rme nt. T re vor didn’t he a r him. T a te wa s trotting down the ha ll, we a ring his le a the r ja cke t a nd a ne w se t of ra inbow studs winking from his ta ttooe d e a r. T re vor gra bbe d his ha nd with a proprie ta ry a ir tha t ma de B ria n a little ill, a nd ha ule d him in for a kiss tha t B ria n would ha ve sa ve d for the da rke st corne r of a crowde d ha ll, if in public a t a ll. T a te looke d up from the kiss dre a mily a nd thre w B ria n a n optimistic grin. B ria n ma na ge d a sick smile ba ck. “D on’t wa it up,” T a te sa id, a nd the n he close d his e ye s like it wa s too pa inful to se e wha t B ria n would sa y to tha t. “D on’t do a nything you don’t wa nt to,” Bria n told him in de spe ra tion, a nd T a te wrinkle d his nose in a cha ra cte ristic a tte mpt to brush off a ny worry wha tsoe ve r. “B a by, a in’t much I don’t wa nt to do!” he sa id, winking, a nd the n T re vor rolle d his e ye s a nd pra ctica lly shove d him out the door. B ut Ta te wa s looking ove r his shoulde r a s he we nt. H is fa ce wa s ba re of powde r, a nd B ria n would a lwa ys re gre t tha t. O f a ll the nights for T a te to ha ve some e xtra prote ction from a n indiffe re nt world, this would ha ve be e n the one . B ria n worke d tha t night. W he n he got home , the door wa s ope n a little , a nd the re wa s a light on in the ba throom. F or a mome nt, B ria n fe lt a profound se nse of re lie f. T a te wa s ba ck.

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S cre w the ope n door (like the y ha d much to ste a l—e ve n his la ptop wa s se ve re ly out of da te ), a t le a st he ha dn’t spe nt the night with tha t guy. T he n B ria n he a rd the sounds from the ba throom. H e kne w the sound of T a te ’s te a rs by now. T a te , for a ll his shie lds a ga inst the world, ofte n wore his he a rt on his sle e ve . This wa s diffe re nt. T his wa s te a rs a nd pa in, a nd ke e ping the pa in suppre sse d a nd ke e ping the te a rs ta mpe d down in the che st a nd…. “T a te ? T a te … ma n, wha t’s wrong?” “N othing.” T he word wa s whispe re d. “T a te , I know your sounds now, oka y? Y ou’re not a ll right.” “I’m fine .” “B ullshit.” B ria n wa s a la rme d—truly a la rme d. H e didn’t sound right. H e didn’t sound right a t a ll. “Just go a wa y, oka y?” B ria n wa s strong—e ve n if he didn’t throw shot a nymore , he still worke d out, just to ke e p his shoulde r from locking up on him. H e wa s not a wa re of how strong he wa s until he cra cke d the che a p lock on the doorknob with a vicious twist of his ha nd a nd shoulde re d ope n the door. Ta te wa s na ke d, his ha ir down a nd limply we t a round his shoulde rs. H is skin wa s re d a nd ra w, like he ’d be e n scrubbing himse lf until the wa te r we nt cold a nd be yond. H e wa s sta nding with his ba ck to the mirror, trying to look a t his own ba ckside . A thin sme a r of blood mixe d with the wa te r from the showe r; it pinke ne d one che e k a nd ra n down the ba ck of his thigh. T a te gla re d a t B ria n a nd wa s a bout to sa y “G o the fuck a wa y!” or some thing like tha t whe n B ria n did his first sma rt thing in the whole a ffa ir.

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“T urn a round,” he sa id ge ntly. “T urn a round a nd I’ll cle a n you off. D on’t worry. I’ll be ca re ful.” “B ria n….” “D on’t worry,” B ria n sa id, ke e ping his voice soft with a supre me e ffort. “I’m sa fe , re me mbe r?” A ra pe ce nte r wa s out of the que stion. F or one thing, Ta te wouldn’t a dmit tha t he ’d be e n ra pe d. H e ’d wa nte d it, re me mbe r? B ut he ’d a ske d the guy to we a r a condom, a nd the guy must ha ve forgotte n, a nd he ’d be gge d the guy for some lube or some spit a nd ha d be e n told tha t it fe lt be tte r na ke d a nd rough, a nd whe n the guy (he no longe r ha d a na me ) ha d be e n done , he ’d la ughe d, sma cke d T a te on the a ss, a nd told him it wa s a ll ove r, he could find his own wa y home . B ria n ha d liste ne d to the story, spille d out a s T a te be nt ove r the se a t of the toile t, a s docile a nd e xpose d a s a ma n ha d e ve r be e n. B ria n ha d some a ntibiotic cre a m, a nd tha t he lpe d stop the ble e ding too. T ouching T a te like this wa s not roma ntic. It wa sn’t te nde r. It wa s not the things he ’d dre a me d a t night for the pa st fe w months. It wa s ce rta inly not wha t he ’d longe d for whe n he ’d wa lke d a wa y from the fa ce le ss pa rty e ncounte rs. It wa s a s ge ntle a nd a s impe rsona l a s ha ndling a n infa nt with dia pe r ra sh, a nd it wa s one more little wound he doctore d himse lf tha t night. H e sa t T a te down with a cup of hot chocola te a nd a pira te d vide o of D r. H orrible ’s S ing-A long B log a nd ra n a cross the stre e t to a n a ll night drugstore for a doughnut pillow a nd witch ha z e l pa ds. H is a unt ha d he morrhoids—he re me mbe re d he r shopping list. H e ca me ba ck a nd sa t T a te down a ga in, this time on the doughnut pillow, a nd the n sa t close to him on the couch until T a te sta rte d la ughing re a lly ha rd a t the pa rt whe re N e il P a trick H a rris sa ng comme nta ry ove r the a ctua l a ction.

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H e la ughe d until he burst into te a rs, a nd sobbe d into B ria n’s che st until he fe ll a sle e p. T he ne xt da y, he wouldn’t me ntion it. W he ne ve r B ria n brought up the subje ct, he ’d sa y, “Y e a h, I know. W orst. D a te . E ve r.” T he y’d both ha d the da y off of work a nd school. U sua lly, whe n the y ha d the da y off, the y spe nt it doing la undry a nd wa tching vide os or some time s running toge the r until the ir le gs a che d a nd the y looke d ba ck a nd re a liz e d the y’d done ne a rly twe nty mile s toge the r. O nce a month or so, B ria n would dra g T a te to the ne a rby home le ss she lte r, a nd the y’d volunte e r in the soup kitche n. T a te wa s a lwa ys we lcome the re ; he ha d a wa y of ta lking to pe ople tha t ma de the m fe e l a t e a se . Ma ybe it wa s the wa y he could just cha tte r through the numbne ss or shyne ss of the pe ople in the soup kitche n line , or ma ybe it wa s the wa y he would touch the ir ha nds ge ntly to ma ke sure the y ha d the ir bowls. E ithe r wa y, B ria n ha d se e n it tha t first da y he ’d invite d himse lf to sit down in a n e mpty se a t. T his pa rticula r da y ha d be e n a la z y da y, a nd T a te ha d spe nt it twitching himse lf into the stra tosphe re . A t one point, B ria n re a liz e d he ’d be e n down in the la undry room for forty-five minute s a nd found him sta nding ove r the wa she r with his clothe s in the ba ske t, sta ring into spa ce , while a n e mpty wa she r a gita te d in front of him. B ria n trie d thre e time s to ge t his a tte ntion, a nd fina lly re sorte d to a te nta tive touch on his shoulde r. Ta te e xplode d, se nding clothe s e ve rywhe re be fore he sa nk to a whimpe ring crouch on the floor. B ria n ca lme d him down e nough to wa lk him up to the a pa rtme nt, the n we nt down a nd took ca re of the la undry. W he n he got ba ck to the a pa rtme nt, T a te wa s doing dishe s a s though nothing ha d e ve r ha ppe ne d. T ha t night the y sa t on the couch, a nd B ria n ma de no pre te nse of be ing stra ight, of ha ving “he te rose xua l spa ce ” or bounda rie s be twe e n the m. H e just pulle d the guy’s he a d to re st into his la p a nd

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stroke d the limp Moha wk a wa y from his fa ce . W he n T a te fina lly sta rte d ta lking, it ha d nothing a t a ll to do with wha t ha ppe ne d, with wha t he wouldn’t a llow himse lf to a dmit ha d ha ppe ne d. “Y ou know, B ria n, whe n we first me t, I use d to go to sle e p e ve ry night pra ying you we re ga y. I thought, ‘P le a se le t him be ga y, a nd the n he ’ll be my P rince C ha rming,’ be ca use ma n, I’ve ne ve r love d a nothe r huma n be ing on the pla ne t the wa y I love you.” O h G od. “T a te ….” “D on’t sa y it.” Ta te ’s voice sta rte d to fra cture , to fra gme nt, a nd B ria n did wha t he a lwa ys did: he liste ne d. “D on’t sa y it. B e ca use the truth is, I’ve ne ve r be e n so gla d you’re not. Ma n… I don’t think I could do this right now, not if I ha d to look a t you a nd know you we re ga y a nd I couldn’t ha ve you.” “W ho sa ys you couldn’t ha ve me ?” B ria n a ske d, be gging Ta te sile ntly not to bring this up, be gging him not to me ntion this right now, not whe n T a te wa s so broke n. G od, he just ne e de d some time to stitch himse lf ba ck toge the r a nd fill in the hole s in the se a ms with ba throom ca ulk a nd good wishe s. “W hy would you wa nt some one a s fucke d up a s I a m?” T a te a ske d, we e ping softly a ga in, a nd B ria n ble w out a bre a th. “T a te W a lke r, if I wa s ga y, I’d… I’d be me sme riz e d by you. I’d liste n to e ve ry word tha t fe ll out of your mouth like it wa s dia monds ma de of sound wa ve s. I’d me moriz e the pa tte rn of fre ckle s on your ba ck a nd spe nd months ta king cooking cla sse s just to find some thing you’d e a t. Y ou a re kind, a nd you a re funny, a nd you a re bra ve , a nd a ny ma n who ha s you ne e ds to se e a ll tha t or he just isn’t worth the la ce s in your comba t boots, you he a r me ?” T he bigge st spe e ch of his life , the one time in his life tha t he spoke with pa ssion a nd powe r a nd love , a nd he ’d pre fa ce d it with one little de a l-bre a king mothe rfucke r of a word. H e ’d sa id “if.”

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B ut T a te wa s too distra cte d to notice tha t truckloa d of truth B ria n ha d just run ove r with a tiny lie . H e wa s still lost in his own bla ck sky, a tiny pinpoint of flicke ring la mplight, smothe re d by the va stne ss of spa ce . “I’m gla d you’re not ga y,” he murmure d, a nd B ria n stoppe d his own me nta l be a t-down a nd sa id, “W hy?” “B e ca use I thought I wa nte d a love r, but… turns out, a ll I re a lly wa nt is to be sa fe . You’ll ke e p me sa fe , B ria n. I love you so much be ca use you ke e p me sa fe .”

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P a rt V II S e e Me L Y N D S E Y ble w out a sigh a s B ria n finishe d the story a nd ha nde d him a tissue so he could stop wiping his e ye s on his sle e ve s like the little boy he ’d be e n whe n she ’d brought him home . “H e love s you be ca use you ke e p him sa fe ,” she e choe d ve ry quie tly. “Y e a h.” “T ha t’s a he lluva pla ce to be whe n you love some one like you love him.” “Y e a h.” “D id he e ve r se e a counse lor?” she a ske d, a nd B ria n looke d a t he r with ra ise d e ye brows. “S hould he ? I me a n, nothing ha ppe ne d, right? N o ha rm, no foul, right? H e got a n H IV te st, be ca use , you know, he wa s the one dumb e nough to ha ve unprote cte d se x, but no… why would the guy wa nt to se e a counse lor whe n it wa s a ll his fucking fa ult….” B ria n’s sa rca sm die d a pa inful de a th, a nd he use d the da mn tissue a ga in. H e ’d a lwa ys known tha t shit rolle d downhill, but he ne ve r kne w te a rs did the sa me thing. Ta te to B ria n, B ria n to A unt Lyndie —who did A unt Lyndie ge t to cry on? S ome one , he thought, looking a round the little house a ga in. S he ’d a lwa ys ha d some one . T he re we re two coffe e cups in the

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sink, a nd two ove rsiz e d pa rka s ha nging on the door be ca use it wa s A pril a nd it still got pre tty cold outside a t night. “A re you still se e ing C ra ig Je ffrie s?” he a ske d sudde nly, re me mbe ring the na me of the school custodia n tha t Lyndie ha d da te d for the la st ye a rs be fore B ria n le ft for school. “H e move d in—Ja nua ry, a ctua lly,” Lyndie sa id with a smile , a nd B ria n looke d a t he r sha rply. “W hy didn’t you sa y a nything? C hristma s, your birthda y—why wouldn’t you wa nt him the re ?” Lyndie shrugge d. “W e ll, for the first two ye a rs, I didn’t sa y a nything be ca use you we re so da mne d lone ly, swe e the a rt. I didn’t wa nt you to think you couldn’t move ba ck.” B ria n re me mbe re d tha t. C olle ge ha d be e n a s a wful for him a s V irginia ha d sa id—he ’d fe lt out of pla ce a nd isola te d from the othe r stude nts, e ve n on the tra ck te a m. B e side s V irginia , the only pe rson a t S a c S ta te to ma ke him fe e l we lcome ha d be e n Ta te . “It got be tte r,” B ria n murmure d, re me mbe ring tha t first, te nta tive offe ring to come to his dorm a nd wa tch a movie . T a te ha d be e n the first pe rson in two ye a rs to ta lk to him like more tha n a te a mma te . T he first one B ria n ha d wa nte d to ta lk ba ck to, a nywa y. B ria n could a dmit tha t it wa sn’t just shyne ss tha t ke pt him isola te d—some of wha t drove him wa s snobbe ry. H e re a lly didn’t like me a n pe ople . H owe ve r he ca me to be lone ly, by the time his shoulde r ha d blown out, not se e ing T a te e ve ry da y ha d be e n fa r more te rrifying tha n not be ing on the te a m, or e ve n not finishing his compute r scie nce de gre e . B ria n could a lwa ys scra bble for a living, but living without his frie nd? “I know it did,” Lyndie sa id softly. “It got be tte r the minute you me t T a te .”

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B ria n nodde d a nd sighe d, re sting his chin on his crosse d a rms on the ta ble . “H e ne e ds to ge t be tte r. H e ne e ds to ge t be tte r, a nd he ne e ds me … a ll of me , not just the frie nd pa rts, to do it.” “W ha t a re you going to do?” she a ske d, a nd he looke d up a t he r hope fully. “W e ll, I’ve got a pla n, but I ne e d to borrow some of the old clothe s you ke e p borrowing but ne ve r use .” He kne w e xa ctly whe re she ke pt the m in the ha ll close t. “C a n I use the m?” he a ske d, a little a nxiously. Lyndie ha d frowne d, a nd he wa s a fra id she would ha ve gotte n rid of the m whe n he r boyfrie nd move d in. S he nodde d a bse ntly. “O f course , ba by—the y’re still the re . A nything in the close t, you know tha t.” “T he n wha t’s wrong?” “T ha t guy… the one tha t hurt T a te —he ’s not going to come ba ck, is he ? T hose type s… I me a n, I know why you wouldn’t wa nt to try to prose cute him, but he sounds like the type to just rub it in T a te ’s fa ce .” B ria n fe lt his e xpre ssion go fla t a nd ha rd. “N o worrie s, A unt Lyndie . H e won’t bothe r T a te e ve r a ga in.”

B R IA N ha d sta rte d ta king T a te to work a fte r his “da te .” G a tsby’s N ick wa s in bike -riding dista nce , or e ve n bus-riding dista nce , a nd T a te ha d a ca r, but he ’d just fe lt so… vulne ra ble . B ria n ha d sta rte d offe ring the ride a nd the n ma king it a point to ge t off be fore T a te so he could be the re in the pa rking lot, re a dy to give him a ride home . T a te …. T a te wa s gra te ful. H e wa s gra te ful a nd distra cte d a nd… e mpty. W a tching him wa lk into the club wa s like wa tching him put in a compute r progra m of who T a te wa s suppose d to be , a nd tha t’s who he wa s whe n he wa s a round pe ople .

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W he n T a te wa s home , he wa s ofte n so sile nt, B ria n would go thunde ring into his room to se e if he wa s still the re —a nd, fra nkly, to ma ke sure he ha dn’t le ft some wa y othe r tha n the door. B ria n ha d ye t to he a r him sing, off-ke y or othe rwise , a nd he twitche d his he a d a lmost consta ntly, since the “worst da te e ve r.” A bout two we e ks a fte r T re vor Murra y ha d ma de T a te cry, B ria n sa w him wa iting in line to ge t into the club a s he wa s pulling a wa y. H e shove d his ca r ba ck into the pa rking spot a nd wa s running for the guy be fore he e ve n kne w wha t he wa s going to do. “H e y, stra ight roomie !” T re vor ca lle d a s B ria n strode up to him. T he smile droppe d off his fa ce a s B ria n twiste d his a rm a round his ba ck a nd ha ule d him be hind the club. T he y we re ha lfwa y the re whe n B ria n re a liz e d he ha d compa ny. “U hm, B ria n?” Je d, one of the club’s two bounce rs, wa s a sixfoot-four-inch bla ck ma n built like a P a nze r ta nk on ste roids. He wa s one of the fe w stra ight me n who worke d a t N ick, but he wa s ve ry prote ctive of his guys. “H e y, Je d,” B ria n pa nte d. T re vor sa id, “Ma n, you gotta he lp me … this guy just we nt… ouuu!” “S hut up!” B ria n sna ppe d, giving T re vor’s a rm a nothe r ya nk. P ossibly for the first time in his life he thre w those words a t some one a nd me a nt it. “S hut the fuck up!” T he y’d re a che d the ba ck of the club by now, a nd B ria n shove d T re vor into the wa ll, giving him a cha nce to stumble a ga inst it a nd re cove r. “A ny cha nce you wa nt to te ll me wha t you’re doing?” Je d a ske d, rubbing his ha nd ove r the ba ck of his ba ld he a d. B ria n sa w T re vor trying to ma ke a run for it, a nd fe inte d in tha t dire ction. T re vor subside d a nd stood, pa nting, wa iting for the a nswe r too. H is ca re fully wispe d “ma n-do” wa s a me ss, a nd he ha d

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a sme a r of dust a cross his white clubbing shirt, but the a rroga nce wa s still the re . “H e hurt T a te .” B ria n sa id it a nd the n he gla re d a nd se ttle d into a crouch. H e ’d ne ve r looke d forwa rd to hurting a nothe r huma n be ing in his life —but he did now. “H urt?” Je d sa id, ca re fully ne utra l. “H urt.” B ria n e mpha size d the word a nd ma de sure the pie ce of shit re sponsible for wre cking the guy he love d wa s ma king e ye conta ct a nd on the sa me pa ge . O ne corne r of T re vor’s mouth curle d up. “T ha t swe e t little bitch? Ma n, he like d it….” B ria n’s first punch a cross T re vor’s pre tty mouth se nt him ba ck into the wa ll of the club, his he a d ma king a n a udible “thunk” on the woode n siding. T re vor re bounde d, fists out, a nd B ria n took him down in two punche s, a nd the n followe d him down, stra ddling his che st a nd proce e ding to work him ove r like a boxe r doing e xe rcise s on a he a vy pumme ling ba g. H e ’d thought he wa s te rribly dispa ssiona te a nd re a sona ble a bout the whole thing, until Je d wra ppe d strong, thick a rms a round his shoulde rs a nd he fte d him bodily off a n unconscious a sshole who wa s missing thre e te e th a nd could ba re ly ma ke out a moa n. “B rothe r, the cops a re coming. You’d be tte r go.” F uck. C ops? “H e hurt T a te !” B ria n sna rle d—a nd until he ta ste d sa lt on his mouth, he ha dn’t be e n a wa re of his own te a rs. “W e ll, you pa id him ba ck,” Je d sa id re a sona bly. “A nd I’ve got to do some quick ta lking, a nd some fa ste r lying, oka y? Just ge t in your ca r a nd go.” “H e hurt T a te ….” B ria n’s voice tra ile d off a nd he we nt to wipe his fa ce whe n he sa w the blood on his ha nds. It wa s thick, a nd some of it ca me from his own knuckle s, which we re rippe d a nd

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ble e ding, but a lot of it ca me from the use le ss sa ck of shit lying on the side wa lk in ba ck of the club. “O h G od,” he sa id thickly, “I’m going to throw up.” Je d ma de a n e xa spe ra te d grunt—he wa s still pra ctica lly lifting B ria n bodily into his ca r. “If you could go home a nd do tha t, I’d be re a lly gra te ful. And I wouldn’t show ba ck up he re for a couple of da ys.” H e le t out a n “oomph” he re a s he fishe d through B ria n’s pocke ts a nd ca me up with his ke ys. “I ne e d to pick Ta te up,” B ria n sa id. It wa s the only thing he could think of a s Je d ope ne d his ca r door a nd shove d him in. “W e ll, how a bout I drop him off tonight, a nd you ca n drop him off tomorrow? I ca n pick up some of the sla ck, ma n, but you’ve got to ge t out of he re , a nd I’ve got to cove r your lily-white a ss, oka y?” F ina lly, Je d’s sa crifice pe ne tra te d B ria n’s fog. “W hy you doing this?” he a ske d ha z ily, re me mbe ring to turn the ke y in his ignition a nd roll down his window while he wa s wa iting for a n a nswe r. H is a dre na line wa s pumping big time , a nd he ha d a sha ke in his ha nds a nd his kne e s tha t he couldn’t se e m to ge t rid of. “T a te ’s good pe ople ,” Je d sa id quie tly from the window. “I ca n’t count the numbe r of hyste rica l kids he ’s ta lke d out of the ba throom come closing. I’m sorry he got hurt.” B ria n sniffe d a nd trie d to ge t control of himse lf. H e ha d to work tonight, a nd he ha d to be the re for Ta te whe n he got home , a nd he couldn’t be a snive ling we e nie be ca use tha t’s just not how he rolle d. “T ha nks for he lping,” he sa id a t la st, putting the ca r in ge a r. H e wa s a bout to e a se up on the clutch whe n Je d stoppe d him with a que stion. “D oe s T a te know?” B ria n couldn’t look a t him. “K now wha t?” “H ow you fe e l a bout him?”

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B ria n shook his he a d a nd shrugge d. “It’s not like I ca n te ll him now.” T he n the y both he a rd the sire ns, a nd Je d ste ppe d ba ck from the ca r so he could drive a wa y. H e ’d stoppe d on the wa y home to throw up. T ha t night, whe n Ta te got home , B ria n ha d re wra ppe d his ble e ding knuckle s a nd put on a ha nd-me -down shirt with the sle e ve s pulle d pa st his finge rtips. It ha d be e n la te Ja nua ry—he ’d be e n re a dy to compla in a bout the cold. B ut T a te ha d be e n da z e d, she ll-shocke d, e xha uste d from ke e ping it toge the r in the pre ss of bodie s a nd loud noise s from the club, a nd he didn’t notice the knuckle s, not e ve n whe n the ba nda ge s we nt a wa y a nd the re we re only sca bs le ft. A ll he wa s re a lly ca pa ble of in those first da ys wa s doing his home work or sitting on the couch wa tching te le vision a nywa y. B ria n would sit with him, home work or no home work, a nd put food in his ha nds a nd na g him until he a te . B ria n would ma ke sure not to turn the ha ll light off a t night, a nd to go into Ta te ’s room be fore he we nt to be d to se e if T a te wa s sle e ping or ne e de d to ta lk. A lot of the time s he wa s sure T a te pre te nde d to sle e p, but some time s he would sa y a fe w words. A ppa re ntly, he sa ve d a ll his ta lking for work.

B R IA N ha d fa lle n quie t a t his a unt’s que stion a bout conse que nce s for the fucke r who’d hurt T a te . A t he r prompting, he je rke d out of his re ve rie . “D on’t worry, A unt Lyndie . H e … he ’s not going to come ne a r T a te a ga in.” Lyndie ra ise d he r e ye brows the n. “O ka y, ba by. G ood for you.”

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B ria n shrugge d. “D idn’t he lp much,” he mutte re d, a nd she re a che d out a nd cove re d his ha nds—ba tte re d with sca rs, but not hurting—a nd sa id, “D id it he lp you?” A slow smile crosse d B ria n’s fa ce , a nd he ha d to conce de tha t it ha d. “O ka y,” Lyndie sa id a fte r a mome nt. “S o, wha t’s the pla n?” B ria n’s smile fa de d. H e ha d one . O h, de finite ly, he ha d a pla n. B ut he wa sn’t re a lly e xcite d a bout it. H e outline d it in its ba re st points, a nd Lyndie nodde d. “S o, the gra nd roma ntic ge sture , huh?” B ria n shrugge d, a nd the n swa llowe d, showing e xa ctly how ne rvous he re a lly wa s. “I’ve ne ve r be e n good a t the m,” he a dmitte d. H e ’d trie d once with V irginia , a nd she ’d e nde d up ge tting sick a nd he ’d ha d to ta ke T a te to the re sta ura nt inste a d. H e a nd T a te ha d a ve ry good time , a nd B ria n ha dn’t minde d—e ve n the n—tha t pe ople thought the y we re a couple , but it wa s a sa d roma ntic ge sture whe n the inte nde d victim sta ye d home with the flu a nd the sta nd-in wouldn’t re cogniz e tha t he wa s the re a l de a l a fte r a ll. T he look Lyndie se nt him ove r he r ice d te a wa s ve ry, ve ry se rious. “B a by, I think you’re going to ha ve to commit to this one full-out. I don’t think this kid’s got ma ny more cha nce s in him.”

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P a rt V III S ounding Love B R IA N couldn’t look a t himse lf in the re a rvie w mirror on the wa y ba ck down to S a cra me nto. It wa s too distra cting. Lyndie ha d he lpe d him, e ve n bre a king out he r own ma ke up re se rve s a nd the E lme r’s glue a nd some he nna dye she ’d be e n sa ving for tinting he r own bla ck tre sse s. T he re sult wa s some one he didn’t re cogniz e in the mirror, a nd he re a lly hope d he didn’t ha ve to bre a k out of the close t e ve r a ga in. H e wa s fine with be ing ga y, tha nk you, but he ’d ne ve r signe d on to be a re je ct from a R a mone s cove r ba nd. H is ha ir wa s dye d re d a t the e nds, a nd spike d fla t on the top of his he a d. Lyndie ha d trimme d it more , so tha t the he nna e d e nds se pa ra te d like e ye la she s, a nd the whole thing wa s so unlike ly a pa rt of B ria n’s a ppe a ra nce tha t he didn’t e ve n se e it whe n he ca ught himse lf in the mirror. H e ha d othe r things to worry a bout. H is e ye s we re bla ck. H is a unt ha d use d a n e ntire pe ncil of e ye line r, ma king it look like he ’d close d his e ye s a nd some one ha d spra y-ste ncile d a ra ccoon ma sk ove r his fa ce . S he ha dn’t use d powde r to white n him—his comple xion wa s pre tty pa le a s it wa s— but she ha d give n him two ibuprofe n a nd a n ice cube a nd pie rce d his e a rs. T hre e time s. A nd his nose . O nce —but tha t wa s ple nty.

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S he ’d be e n conside ring sa fe ty pins in the m, but she ’d gone into he r old je we lry box inste a d a nd come up with six dia mond studs—two of the m re a l—a nd one onyx stud for his nose . S he ’d a lso be e n ha ppy to find some pe ppe rmint oil a nd a lcohol to soothe a nd disinfe ct the whole works, a nd he ’d he ld a n ice pa ck to his fa ce while she ’d done his ha ir a nd e ye s. H is shirt wa s blinding. N e on-pink polye ste r. H e wa sn’t sure which e ra it wa s from— se ve ntie s, e ightie s, some time in the future , he ha d no ide a . B ut it ha d a wide la pe l colla r a nd bla ck buttons, a nd it we nt re a lly we ll with the bla ck-che cke re d golf pa nts tha t ha d come out of the ne ighbor’s sta sh of ha nd-me -downs a s we ll. A nd the golf pa nts looke d much be tte r pe gge d (tha nk you a ga in, A unt Lyndie ) a nd shorte ne d in the crotch a nd stuffe d into comba t boots tha t (unlike the othe rs in the club) ha d a ctua lly se e n re a l comba t.

H ow’m I doing, V irginia ? A m I se lling it to the world? More importa ntly, would he se ll it to T a lke r? H e could only hope . It wa s da rk by the time he got ba ck to S a cra me nto, a nd G a tsby’s N ick wa s hopping—it wa s crowde d e nough tha t Je d a lmost didn’t notice him until he wa s ha lfwa y inside . “B ria n?” T he re wa s some shock, some incre dulity, but no la ughte r. B ria n put Je d on the short list of pe ople he ’d be a t some one up for. “H e y, Je d.” B ria n smile d we a kly, a nd Je d cocke d his he a d, se e ing right through him. “Y ou’re he re to stop T a lke r, a re n’t you?” B ria n looke d a wa y a nd put his ha nds in the pocke ts of the golf pa nts. T he y we re so tight he wa s sure Je d could proba bly look ha rd

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a nd se e tha t he ’d be e n circumcise d, so he wa s gla d Je d didn’t swing his wa y. “S ome one ha s to,” he mutte re d. Je d nodde d. “Y ou’re right. H e ’s gonna lose his job if this shit doe sn’t stop.” B ria n looke d inside the club—lots of ma le bodie s da ncing (a fe w fe ma le s, the re with frie nds)—lots of snuggling a nd pre ssing toge the r, lots of noise a nd a swe lte r of he a t a nd motion a nd light. H e couldn’t he lp himse lf. H e shudde re d. Ta lke r would fit right in he re , but not B ria n. “Y ou wouldn’t know if it’s sta rte d ye t. T onight, I me a n?” Je d shook his he a d. “H e ge ts off a bout a n hour be fore we close down—tha t’s whe n he ’s be e n doing his ba throom thing.” B ria n looke d a t his wa tch a nd shudde re d. O h G od. T ha t wa s two hours. H e ha d to sit in the re for two hours, with swe a ty pa lms a nd a re a l dislike for grunge -me ta l/te chno-pop hybrid music, while stra nge me n trie d to gra b his a ss? (H e wa s not be ing va in. H e ’d be e n grope d twice while he ’d stoppe d a nd ta lke d to Je d.) “I ca n wa it in the ca r,” he sa id de cisive ly, turning to wa lk a wa y, a nd Je d stoppe d him with a ha rd-finge re d ha nd on the a rm. “B ut if you do tha t, I ca n’t buy you dinne r a nd te ll you whe n he ’s going in to the ba throom,” Je d sa id softly, a nd B ria n swa llowe d. “I don’t ne e d dinne r,” he lie d. H e ’d le ft Lyndie ’s be fore dinne r (a fte r sa ying hi to he r boyfrie nd, of course , a nd wishing the m both we ll), a nd he ha d ma ybe five dolla rs in his pocke t. F ive dolla rs might buy him a n ice d te a —if he flirte d nice ly with the ba rte nde r. “S ure you do. I’ve got some comps, ta ke one .” B ria n swa llowe d, swa llowe d a ga in, fina lly got his pride down in a lump. “O ka y,” he mutte re d. “T ha nks.”

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Je d fla she d a ha nd a t the othe r bounce r to sa y he ’d be ba ck in a minute , the n e scorte d B ria n through tha t pre ss of bodie s. F ollowing Je d wa s a ctua lly oka y—he wa s like the ice -bre a king prow of a gre a t ship, e xce pt the ice wa s hot a nd swe a ty a nd da ncing in rhythm to the sa me be a t tha t se e me d to je rk T a lke r a wa y from re a lity on a da ily ba sis. B ria n wa s pa rke d in a corne r of the ba r, ba ck in the sha dows, a nd Je d wa s ba ck in a minute with a sa la d a nd a sa ndwich—a nd a pitche r of soda . “H e doe sn’t work this se ction,” Je d holle re d into his e a r ove r the noise . “O dds a re good he won’t se e you. Y ou le t T ra ce he re ”— a nod a t a ha ndsome ma n with re ddish ha ir, sta nding be hind the ba r—“ta ke ca re of you, a nd wa it. I’ll ke e p a n e ye out for him a nd le t you know whe n his shift is done .” B ria n wa nte d to just shut up a nd huddle in the corne r, but he ha d to a sk one ma jor fa vor. “Je d….” H e looke d a t the guy he lple ssly. “Je d, I’ve got to be the first one in the re , ’ka y?” Je d nodde d with unde rsta nding, putting a he a vy ha nd on B ria n’s shoulde r be fore he turne d to le a ve . B ria n wa s going to ha ve a ha rd e nough time doing wha t he ne e de d to without fa cing the sme ll of a nothe r ma n’s se me n in the da mne d toile t sta ll. H e wa tche d the pe ople for a little while , wonde ring wha t wa s wrong with him tha t he couldn’t pa rticipa te in the da nce . H e just like d things simple , he thought, e ye ing the crowd dispa ssiona te ly. H e like d his simple a pa rtme nt (a lthough he wouldn’t ha ve minde d a slightly be tte r qua lity of simple ). H e like d the routine of going to school a nd working. He like d tha t his pa ssions we re things tha t ke pt him a lone or with the one or two pe ople who ma tte re d. In fa ct, the only thing in his life tha t wa s complica te d wa s T a te W a lke r, a nd he like d tha t a ll this simplicity ga ve him the stre ngth to be e xa ctly wha t T a lke r ne e de d.

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W ith a sigh, he turne d from the crowd to his dinne r. W he n he wa s done with tha t, he ga ve the ba rte nde r his pla te s a nd borrowe d a pe n, the n turne d his a tte ntion to the sta ck of na pkins in front of him. H e spe nt a n hour trying to write out wha t he wa nte d to sa y, but he ha d ne ve r be e n good with words. A ll he could ma na ge to scra wl wa s I love you, a nd he wa s pre tty sure he ’d a lre a dy prove n tha t simple truths we re not going to do it. H e ’d ca tch glimpse s of T a te , trotting through the crowd. A t one point he ra n by without his e ve r-pre se nt tub of gla sse s or sta ck of dishe s in his a rms a nd a numbe r of pe ople sort of sha ngha ie d him onto the da nce floor. T a te spe nt a fe w mome nts the re , lost in N e utra l Milk H ote l a nd “S ong A ga inst S e x.” F or a time he disa ppe a re d, a llowing his body to move with the irs, surrounde d by othe r pe ople grinding up a ga inst him, a nd while B ria n thought it might ha ve be e n some thing he would ha ve e njoye d be fore the “da te ,” his fa ce wa s stra ine d whe n he fina lly fought himse lf cle a r.

O h, T a lke r—no wonde r you’re e xha uste d. B ria n ha d thought his frie nd wa s fe a rle ss from the first time T a te sa t down ne xt to him on a bus a nd sta rte d to ta lk a bout P la ce bo a nd R ufus Wa inwright a nd T he D ove s . N ow he kne w the true e xte nt of T a lke r’s bra ve ry, a nd his own cowa rdice dug cla ws in his che st a nd shrie ke d.

I’m sorry, T a te . I should ha ve be e n more like you. B ut he wa s going to ma ke up for tha t tonight. H e worke d in a re sta ura nt—he re cogniz e d the rhythm of finishing your shift, filling your condime nts, cle a ning the nooks a nd cra nnie s tha t we re e xpre ssly the owne rship of e mploye e X in sta tion Y . B ria n stoppe d his fruitle ss rough dra fts a nd wa tche d a s T a te pe rforme d his closing dutie s with the e fficie ncy of a Roomba . H e z ombie d from pla ce to pla ce , cle a ning wha t he wa s suppose d to, but… but the music wa s missing, B ria n thought with a n a che in

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his che st. T a te , who use d to he a r music in his he a d in the sile nce of the showe r, now couldn’t he a r the music pounding through his fe e t in a club de dica te d to music. H e wa tche d T a te disa ppe a r be hind the ba r, wa tche d him come ba ck without his a pron, wa tche d him wa lk into the ba throom. H e didn’t ne e d to wa tch Je d a s he ste ppe d in front of the swinging door with a “C lose d for C le a ning” sign to know tha t wa s his cue . N obody ha d notice d him sitting in the corne r, a nd he didn’t notice a nybody a s he crosse d the da nce floor to the ba throoms like a fle tche d pink a rrow, but a ppa re ntly the re we re pe ople , be ca use whe n he got to the ba throom, Je d wa s gla ring a t pha ntoms be hind his ba ck a nd sha king his he a d. “Ma n,” Je d mutte re d a s he wa lke d up, “we ha ve got to ge t you out of he re , stra ight boy—e ve rybody wa nts a pie ce of you tonight.” “Je d?” B ria n sa id with a quirk of his lips. “Y e a h?” “Y ou know I a in’t stra ight.” Je d nodde d his he a d. “N ow go prove it,” he sa id, bowing B ria n into the ba throom like it wa s the gra nd ba llroom of the F a nta bulous K ingdom of G a y. It wa s a ba throom. B right lights ma de him blink a fte r the da rk strobe ra inbow of the club, but othe r tha n tha t? T iny be ige tile s, four sta lls, a nd a long trough: the y we re me n, the y’d se e n the e quipme nt, hiding it wa s silly—a nd ma de ce rta in a spe cts of flirting a little more difficult. B ria n looke d down a nd sa w T a te ’s comba t boots in the fa r sta ll, the one ne xt to the ha ndica ppe d sta ll. H e pa rke d himse lf in the sta ll ne xt door a nd wa ite d for the fa rce to be gin.

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“H e y, brothe r,” T a te sa id, ne xt to him. H is voice , strippe d of the ma ke up a nd the ta ttoos a nd the a ttitude , sounde d surprisingly na ke d. B ria n grunte d. H is voice wa s usua lly pre tty de e p—he figure d if he ke pt to grunts a nd minima l conve rsa tion, T a te wouldn’t re cogniz e him. H e hope d, a nywa y. “Y ou wa nt to ge t off?” T a te ’s voice shook. O h fuck. H is fucking voice shook. B ria n wa s going to e nd it right the re . N o. N o I don’t

wa nt to ge t off. I don’t wa nt to be a fa ce le ss stra nge r to you! I wa nt you to know you’re love d! B ut the n T a te sta rte d to ta lk, a nd the vulne ra bility a nd sa dne ss droppe d out of his voice , a nd a ll tha t wa s le ft wa s the boy B ria n ha d known—the flirty, se xy one , who cra ve d the touch of skin on skin. “S o, you like to top? I’m a bottom myse lf. I’ve got this fa nta sy—you wa nt to he a r it?”

Y e s. O h C hrist forgive me , ye s. H is grunt must ha ve conve ye d the ide a —he hope d so. It wa s involunta ry. “N ow, se e , the thing is”—a nd like tha t, T a te be ca me T a lke r, a nd T a lke r be ca me dre a my—“the thing is, I like it… I’ll do a nything for it. C a n you ima gine the guy of your dre a ms, on his kne e s in front of you, his ha nds be hind his ba ck a s he ta ke s your cock into his mouth to the ba ck of his throa t? T ha t’s me . I don’t ne e d too much fore pla y—but I do like to pla y with your body. C a n I move my ha nds now?” B ria n ma de a nothe r he lple ss sound. H e wonde re d wha t it ha d be e n like for the othe rs—did this ha ve the sa me e ffe ct on some one who didn’t know tha t the boy of his dre a ms wa s a tta che d to the dre a my, throa ty voice on the othe r side of the sta ll?

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“G ood… I’m going to cup your ba lls. I like the fe e l of the m. T he y’re soft a nd furry….” S udde n unce rta inty. “U nle ss… you don’t wa x, do you?” “N o.” H is first full word—a nd it wa s so gruff tha t T a te wouldn’t ha ve re cogniz e d it if the y’d be e n in the ir a pa rtme nt toge the r. “G ood.” Ta lke r sounde d hone st. “I like na tura l, you know? A t le a st whe re I ca n touch. I’ll jiggle the m a little , ’til the y’re nice a nd ha rd a nd round, a nd the n ope n my mouth a nd ta ke the m in. H ow’s tha t sound?” “Mmmm.” B ria n trie d not to le t his he a d thunk too ha rd whe n he re ste d it a ga inst the side of the sta ll. “S o gla d you like ,” T a te sa id dryly, a nd B ria n kne w T a lke r wa s la ughing a t him. T ha t wa s oka y. H e wa s a n idiot. H e ne e de d a good la ugh a t his own e xpe nse . “B e ca use once the y’re good a nd ha rd, I’m going to ta ke your cock de e p into my mouth. I pra ctice with ba na na s, you know”—B ria n did know—he ha dn’t e a te n a ba na na or a cucumbe r since the y’d move d in toge the r, a t le a st not without suspicion—“a nd I ca n ta ke the bigge st prick a ll the wa y down. How big a re you?” B ria n ha d no ide a . “B ig e nough,” he growle d. H e ce rta inly fe lt big e nough, ha rd a nd a ching a nd tra ppe d in the da mne d golf pa nts. W ith a little de spe ra tion he unfa ste ne d the hook a nd e ye a t the top of his pa nts, a nd lowe re d the z ippe r, giving a se nsua l sigh whe n he ha d some room. “W e ll, you fe e l pre tty big to your dre a m guy,” T a lke r sa id with e ncoura ge me nt, a nd B ria n rolle d his e ye s. Je sus, couldn’t the guy not be swe e t to the stra nge r ge tting pe rsona l-non-phone -phone -se x in the sta ll ne xt door? “Y ou fe e l big e nough tha t I’m going to ne e d two ha nds to pump you off, how’s tha t? O r would you ra the r I snuck one of the m be twe e n your le gs, to your a sshole —would you like tha t?”

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B ria n whimpe re d. H e hone st-to-god whimpe re d. T a te ’s voice got swe e te r. “O h ye a h, you do like tha t, don’t you? I’m going to do tha t, the n. Lots of spit, so it’s good for you, oka y? I’ll ta ke you so de e p in my throa t, a nd I’ll pump you so good, a nd I’ll slip right inside you, a nd stre tch a nd ma ke it burn… you like tha t burn, right?” B ria n ha d no ide a if he did or not, but he must ha ve ma de a nothe r a ffirma tive sound be ca use the re wa sn’t a force on the pla ne t tha t could stop T a lke r now. “S o the re I’ll be , down on my kne e s in front of you, your cock so fa r down the ba ck of my throa t I’d be tte r le a rn to swa llow or sne e z e come , a nd my finge rs wiggling a round in your a ss, a nd my ha nd pumping you ha rd a nd fa st a nd fa ste r a nd fa ste r a nd…” O h fuck. F uck fuck fuck fuck…. B ria n groa ne d a nd trie d to ge t hold of himse lf, be ca use T a lke r wa s re a lly going to ma ke him come . “G ive in to it, brothe r,” T a te sa id, his voice so low a nd whiske ysmooth it se nt more shive rs up B ria n’s spine . “Just ta ke it out a nd stroke it, a nd ima gine me , the boy of your dre a ms, my fa ce a ll we t with pre -come , my fist slick a nd strong on your prick. Y ou gonna come ye t? ’C a use if you a re , wa rn me … I wa nna swa llow.…” “N ot ye t….” B ria n ra spe d, his e ye s close d. He wa s grinding his crotch—still cove re d by pa nts a nd unde rwe a r—into his own ha nd a nd trying to ke e p his ha rsh bre a ths to himse lf. “W ha t a re you wa iting for, buddy?” T a te sounde d “Ma n, I’m right he re … gulping in the ba ck of my throa t to monste r down, a dding a nothe r finge r to the one in sque e z ing the ba se of your dick e nough to ma ke cra mp.…”

surprise d. ke e p your your a ss, my ha nd

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“G wa a a a a hhhh.…” B ria n ha dn’t wa nte d to. H e ha dn’t. H e ’d ha d a whole othe r a ge nda pla nne d, a nd T a lke r ha d de ra ile d it with his se cre t dre a ms, spille d out into the a ir be twe e n the m like B ria n’s come ha d spille d out into his pa nts. O n the othe r side of the sta ll, T a te ma de a sa tisfie d sound. H e ha dn’t come —but he sighe d a nd it sounde d ha ppy. A sma ll pa rt of himse lf ha d obviously be e n gra tifie d by ma king a n a nonymous stra nge r ha ppy in a wa y no one ha d e ve r done for him. “H ow you doing, brothe r?” T a te a ske d. “B e ca use , not to rush you, but I’m thinking some one e lse is going to wa nt to use tha t sta ll.” “W e ’re not through ye t,” B ria n ma na ge d, his vision still bla ck from his orga sm. H e pulle d fruitle ssly a t his shirt—it might be a ble to cove r the front of his pa nts, but he wa sn’t going to wa nt to go a nywhe re e lse but his ca r. “I don’t ne e d a ny—” “N o.” H e found a pa rt of him wa s a ngry—tha t wa s good. It ke pt his voice rough, a nd Ta te ha dn’t re cogniz e d it ye t. “B ut I don’t wa nt to—” “It’s my turn, da mmit!” B ria n sna ppe d. “I liste ne d to you—now you ne e d to liste n to me !” “B ria n?” S hit. “S o my dre a m boy ha s just ma de me come in his mouth, a nd I’m flying high, right?” “S e riously, ma n—is tha t you?” “B ut no one ha s ta ke n ca re of him ye t, a nd tha t’s my job.” “Je sus, B ria n, wha t the fuck a re you doing he re ?” “B e ca use he ’s my dre a m boy, a nd I ke e p him sa fe . H e ’s told me tha t, right? T ha t I ke e p him sa fe ? W e ll, how a m I going to ke e p

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him sa fe if I just le a ve him the re , on his kne e s like tha t? S o I pull him up, a nd I wipe his mouth on my sle e ve , a nd I kiss him.” T a te ’s voice sudde nly broke a little , like B ria n ha d crushe d the la st strong pa rt of him. “B ria n, this isn’t fucking funny.…” “N o, T a te , you’re right. I’m tota lly fucking se rious. N ow I’ve be e n te lling you this for months, a nd you ha ve n’t wa nte d to liste n, but da mmit, you’re going to liste n to me now, oka y? I sa t in he re a nd I he a rd you.…” A nd now B ria n’s voice broke . “I he a rd you te ll things to some one you thought wa s a tota l stra nge r, a nd it wa s shit I’ve be e n dying to he a r you sa y to me … to do to me , a nd now you’re going to ge t tha t ba ck, you he a r me ?” “B ria n.…” O h G od. H e sounde d so lost, so sa d. B ria n ha d to ma ke this right. H e ha d to ma ke this right. If he ne ve r ha d the words a ga in in his life , he ha d to ma ke this right. “S o, I wa s kissing him,” B ria n sa id, re me mbe ring whe re he le ft off. “I’m kissing him, a nd his e ye s a re ope n, be ca use he ca n’t be lie ve how te nde r I a m, how ba dly I wa nt to kiss him, a nd my ha nds a re sha king a nd I put the m on his che e ks, fra me his fa ce , a nd I ma ke him sta y the re a nd fe e l my mouth a nd my tongue , a nd whe n he close s his e ye s… the n I know I’ve got his fucking a tte ntion.” H e pa use d the n a nd took a bre a th. “A re your e ye s close d, T a te ?” “Just go a wa y.…” “F uck you. No. I’m sta ying. B e ca use my dre a m boy’s e ye s a re close d, a nd he ’s fina lly fucking liste ning to me . A nd oh G od… it’s e ve rything I’ve be e n dre a ming of. I’ve kisse d othe r boys, trying to se e if I wa nte d the m a s much a s I wa nte d my dre a m boy, a nd the y we re nice a nd a ll, but the y we re n’t him. I just wa nt him.”

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“O the r boys?” T a te sounde d fa intly indigna nt, a nd B ria n took a little he a rt—you couldn’t be broke n be yond re pa ir if you we re a little bit je a lous, right? “B ut a ll I did with the m wa s kiss the m,” B ria n soothe d. “I’ve ne ve r gone a s fa r with a boy a s I’m going to with my dre a m boy. Y ou know wha t I’m going to do with my dre a m boy?” “I ha ve no ide a .” A nd T a te didn’t. H e wa s comple te ly in the da rk; B ria n could te ll by his voice . W e ll, ma ybe a little light wa s going on in his bra in. T ha t would be nice , a fte r a ll this trouble , wouldn’t it? “I’m going to pull a wa y a nd kiss the corne r of his mouth, whe re his ta ttoo me e ts his skin, a nd I’m going to ke e p on kissing. I’m going to kiss the line down his chin, a nd down his ne ck, down his shoulde r, down his che st, down to the cre a se of his thigh, a nd if it wa sn’t so fucking a wkwa rd, I’d kiss a ll the wa y ba ck up the othe r side —a s it is, I’m just going to la y him down a nd roll him ove r a nd do it e ve rywhe re . I’m going to ta ke tha t line , whe re he ’s ma rke d the pla ce s of himse lf he doe sn’t wa nt a nyone to se e , a nd I’m going to e ra se it comple te ly. Y ou know why?” “I’m clue le ss.” A nd now he just sounde d e xha uste d. O h G od .

C ’mon, T a te , le t me se e you. Le t me hold you. Le t me be a r you up whe n you ca n’t ta ke the we ight a nymore . “B e ca use the re is no pa rt of my dre a m boy I don’t wa nt to se e . I’ve se e n him broke n… I’ve se e n him strong. I’ve se e n him go looking for love time a nd time a ga in, a nd a lwa ys come ba ck with such… such optimism. S uch he a rt. E ve n this.…” B ria n trie d to ke e p the irrita tion out of his voice . F a ile d. “E ve n this bullshit—it’s still optimism. It’s giving. My dre a m boy—he give s e ve rything. He liste ns to music a nd it touche s him, a nd he trie s to sha re tha t with the world. He wa tche s shows a nd the y move him, a nd he love s tha t, a nd he wa nts the re st of us to fe e l tha t wa y too. H e goe s to the

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soup kitche n with me be ca use he ’s a good guy—a nd pe ople love him whe n he ’s the re , be ca use giving… ta lking… it’s just so na tura l to him, the y ca n te ll tha t… he ’s just goodne ss. T he y wa nt to be close r to him, just to fe e l it come off his skin. “B ut he ’s my dre a m boy. Mine . A nd I wa nt to be the only one close e nough to him to fe e l it up close a nd pe rsona l. S o whe n I’m done kissing tha t line a wa y, I’m going to wra p my a rms up unde r his a nd pull him close , kiss the ba ck of his ne ck, kiss his spine , kiss down the le ngth of his ba ck… right up to the pla ce he doe sn’t wa nt a nybody to touch, a nd I’m going to kiss tha t too. I’ll lick him down the re , I’ll suck a nything he wa nts in my mouth, I’ll fucking worship him. I ke e p him sa fe . I promise d. S o he ’s going to be sa fe . H e ’s going to be so sa fe in my ha nds a nd my mouth… he ’s going to come , a ny wa y he wa nts to, a nd I’m going to ma ke him, a ny wa y he wa nts me to, a nd whe n I’m done , a nd he ’s done , a nd we ’re swe a ting a nd pa nting, I’m going to kiss him a ga in. I’m going to te ll him tha t I lo—” “D on’t sa y it.” T a te ’s voice gre w firm, gre w a ngry, a nd B ria n ha d ha d e nough. H e ope ne d the door to the sudde nly cla ustrophobic blue -wa lle d sta ll a nd spoke to the se a m of T a te ’s door, trying with a ll his will to ma ke out T a te ’s fe a ture s. H e wa s huddle d ba ck be hind the toile t, his a rms wra ppe d a round his body. E ve n through the se a m of the wa ll, B ria n could te ll he wa s sha king. “I love y—” “D on’t sa y it!” T a te ye lle d, a nd B ria n ye lle d ba ck a t him. “Y ou don’t wa nt me to sa y it, you come out he re a nd stop me , da mmit!” A nd he ’d done it. H e ’d ma de T a te ma d e nough to throw ba ck the bolt on the door.

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O h ye a h—T a te wa s surprise d, tha t wa s for sure . “Je sus, B ria n, wha t the he ll ha ppe ne d to your ha ir?” “I cut it,” B ria n told him shortly. T a te ’s a rms droppe d to his side s, a nd he sta re d a t B ria n with a bsolute puz z le me nt. H is guyline r wa s sme a re d a ll ove r his fa ce , a nd B ria n lifte d his ha nds a nd use d his thumbs to wipe it a wa y. T e a rs re pla ce d the me ss, so B ria n wipe d his ha nds on his pa nts a nd wipe d those a wa y too. “W hy?” T a te a ske d, his voice choke d. “B e ca use I love you, T a lke r. I’ve be e n trying to te ll you fore ve r. I love you e xa ctly the wa y you wa nte d me to—but I’m too stupid to be P rince C ha rming. Y ou’re going to ha ve to se ttle for me .” A nd now B ria n fe lt na ke d. Just ba re a nd e xpose d a nd vulne ra ble . F a ir’s fa ir, he thought pa infully. T his wa s how T a te we nt through life . If he wa s going to e a rn T a te W a lke r, he ha d to be bra ve e nough to risk be ing na ke d a nd foolish a nd hurt. T a te sniffle d. “Y ou’re not stupid,” he whispe re d, a nd B ria n’s he a rt a ctua lly sta rte d to be a t for the first time since he ’d come into this horrid little re stroom. “T he n le t me be P rince C ha rming,” B ria n whispe re d ba ck. H e wa s one , ma ybe two inche s ta lle r tha n T a te —just ta ll e nough for it to me a n some thing whe n he fra me d tha t ma de -up, de cora te d fa ce with his sturdy pa lms a nd a ngle d T a te ’s mouth for a kiss. T a te ’s mouth ope ne d up unde r his, a nd it wa s… so swe e t. H is lips we re firm, a nd ma le , a nd B ria n could fe e l the stubble a nd the a ngle s of T a te ’s chin unde r his pa lms, a nd T a te ope ne d tha t hot mouth, bitte r with the ta ste of te a rs a nd ma ke up, a nd just le t B ria n in. B ria n inva de d, a nd he wa s firm, a nd strong, a nd te nde r, a nd e ve rything he wa nte d T a te to know wa s in B ria n’s he a rt, it wa s right the re , like the song sa id, in his kiss.

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H e kisse d ha rde r a nd de e pe r, a nd T a te whimpe re d a nd ga ve wa y ba ck to the divide r of the ba throom, a nd the n Je d stuck his he a d in a nd sa id, “A re you two a bout done he re ? T he re ’s a line of a billion pe ople who got to pe e !” T a te pulle d up a nd sa id, “S hit!” a nd B ria n flushe d. “Le t’s go home , ’ka y? W e ’ve got shit to ta lk a bout, a nd—” T a te nodde d. “A nd we ’ve got to fix your ha ir,” he sa id woe fully, running his ha nds up the sha ve d side s, fe e ling the buz z cut unde r his finge rtips. “It’ll grow ba ck,” B ria n sa id softly. “I’d sha ve myse lf ba ld, if tha t’s wha t it took to ge t you to look a t me .” “I a m looking a t you,” T a te sa id, a nd the ir che sts we re touching, a nd B ria n fe lt such a wa ve of wa nt wa sh through his body tha t it wa s a ll he could do not to just ta ke T a lke r into the big ba throom a nd do e ve rything he fa nta siz e d a bout right the re . B ut Je d cle a re d his throa t, a nd B ria n re me mbe re d tha t he wa s good for T a lke r be ca use he wa s sa fe , a nd he wipe d T a te ’s che e ks one more time with his thumb. “C ’mon, ba by. Le t’s go home .”

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P a rt IX E ve ry H e a rtbe a t S cre a ms Y our N a me H O ME wa s so norma l, e choing loudly of ke ys a nd he a vy tre a ds unde r ye llow lights a nd ye llowing wa lls. T he only thing diffe re nt wa s B ria n’s ha nd in the sma ll of T a te ’s ba ck a s the y we nt inside . “I’m going to ta ke off my boots, a nd showe r,” B ria n grunte d— he wa s pre tty sure he ha d bliste rs. “Me e t on the couch or me e t in your room?” “Me e t in the showe r,” T a te told him, rolling his e ye s. “I ne e d to ge t tha t cra p out of your ha ir like now.” “T ha t cra p out of my ha ir?” B ria n frowne d. “Y ou do this shit to your ha ir a ll the time .” T a te shrugge d. “Y e a h—but tha t’s me . It’s not you.” “W e ll, tha nk G od—be ca use if I ha d to do this e ve ry da y, I re a lly would sha ve my he a d ba ld.” H e ’d be e n going to go for the hype rbole a nd sa y some thing a bout running his ca r off a cliff, but T a te wa s too fra gile for hype rbole . N o e xa gge ra ting things until sma ll shit didn’t hurt him a nymore . T he showe rhe a d wa s a tta che d to a hose , a nd a fte r wa shing (tha nk G od—his come ha d glue d his unde rwe a r to his skin) he wra ppe d a towe l a round his wa ist while T a te scrubbe d the glue a nd the he nna a nd the ha irspra y out.

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It wa s curiously norma l doing tha t—no diffe re nt tha n a ny of the othe r time s the y’d sha re d the ba throom, one of the m ta king a pe e a nd the othe r one in the showe r, or T a te grooming while B ria n e ithe r/or. It wa s a lmost like tha t othe r thing—the ta lking, the kiss, the e motiona l na ke dne ss—ha dn’t ha ppe ne d a t a ll. B ria n ha d this thought, a nd the n swung his now-limp strip of ha ir out of his e ye s a nd gra spe d T a te ’s wrist a s he turne d off the showe r. “T ha nks,” he whispe re d, a nd T a te looke d a t tha t ha nd on his ta ttooe d wrist a nd the n ba ck up a t B ria n. “My ple a sure ,” he sa id with a sma ll smile . B ria n grinne d quickly. “W ill be .” “W a nt me to he lp you with the studs?” B ria n grima ce d, a nd the n blushe d. “O nly some of the m. I, uhm, sort of like the ide a of ha ving two, you know?” B e side s, the bottom two we re re a l, a nd Lyndie ha d wa nte d him to ke e p the m. It ha d fe lt like a ble ssing. “I like the one in the nose ,” T a te confe sse d, a nd B ria n ga ve a nothe r quick grin. “Y e a h?” “Y e a h.” “I’ll ke e p tha t one , ’ka y?” A nd T a te smile d shyly. “F or me ?” “I’d do a nything for you.” T he ir e ye s conne cte d, a nd like tha t, the mome nt be ca me intima te . B ria n’s ha nd ha d ne ve r le ft T a te ’s wrist a nd he rubbe d his thumb ove r the thick blue ve ins of T a te ’s pulse point. B e ca use it wa s his thumb, he couldn’t te ll whose he a rt wa s be a ting fa ste r. H e swa llowe d ha rd, a lmost comple te ly lost in T a te ’s oa k-ga llda rk e ye s. T a te blinke d, a nd B ria n notice d the ve stige s of his

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ma ke up, still sme a re d ove r his che e kbone s, a nd he ma na ge d to be pra ctica l. “B ut you showe r first,” he sa id, his bre a th coming quickly in his che st. “I’ll ma ke you some dinne r. Lyndie se nt food.” “Lyndie ?” W ith obvious re lucta nce , T a te stra ighte ne d a nd the y broke the ir physica l conne ction. “W ho do you think did the ha ir a nd the pie rcings?” T a te blinke d a t tha t, a nd B ria n ste ppe d out of the showe r. H is towe l wa s pre tty sodde n, so, with a blushing gla nce a t T a te , he hung it ove r the curta in rod a nd took one of the dry one s from the towe l ra ck. “W hy?” T a te a ske d, a nd B ria n wa s gla d his ba ck wa s turne d a s he wra ppe d the dry towe l a round his wa ist. “B e ca use I told he r I love d you, a nd I wa s worrie d, a nd I’d told you re pe a te dly, but you we re n’t se e ing me . I ha d to find a wa y to ma ke you se e me .” H e turne d ba ck a round a nd T a te ha d move d close r. “I se e you now.” “Loving you is a bout a ll I got in the wa y of inte re st,” B ria n told him, to ma ke sure he ’d know. B e ca use be ing roomma te s for a lmost a ye a r might not ha ve clue d Ta te in to how ba sica lly boring his roomma te wa s, right? T a te nodde d, ne ve r bre a king his ga z e , a nd put out a te nta tive ha nd to the middle of B ria n’s che st. B ria n’s skin fe lt like it ripple d, shive ring, a nd his groin a nd nipple s tingle d, a nd he wa s force d to close his e ye s. “I do tha t to you?” Ta te a ske d, a nd he he ld himse lf ve ry still, like he doubte d the a nswe r. “O h G od, ye s,” B ria n mumble d, a nd the n ma na ge d to pull a wa y. “S howe r,” he be gge d. “S howe r. G e t the cra p out of your ha ir. Le t me fe e d you. Le t me ta ke ca re of you. P le a se , T a te —I….” H is

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cock ga ve a vicious throb a nd he re me mbe re d tha t whimpe ring sound he ’d ma de in the ba throom a t the club a nd conte mpla te d ma king it a ga in. “I wa nt you so ba d—but I wa nt to ta lk, too, a nd I wa nt… oh G od.” T a te wa s moving tha t ha nd in little circle s, a nd his pa lm gra z e d B ria n’s nipple a nd B ria n re a che d out a ste a dying ha nd to T a te ’s shoulde r. T a te la ughe d a little , bre a thle ssly. It wa s a ha ppy la ugh, a nd B ria n could te ll he wa s impre sse d with his own powe r. G ood. T ha t ha nd ma de a nothe r pa ss, a nd T a te ’s thumb got bra ve a round B ria n’s nipple , a nd the n B ria n wa s impre sse d with T a te ’s powe r too. W hich wa s why he gra spe d T a te ’s wrist ge ntly, a nd brought his sca rre d pa lm (T a te ha d ta ke n off his glove to he lp B ria n ge t the glue out of his ha ir) up to his mouth a nd ge ntly kisse d the pa lm. T a te whimpe re d, just like B ria n ha d. “T a te ?” “Y e a h?” “A ll tha t shit I sa id in the club? A bout ta king ca re of you?” “Y e a h?” “I me a nt e ve ry word of tha t. T a ke a showe r, a nd I’m going to ma ke you some food, a nd the n I’m going to touch you with my whole body. B ut I’m not going to do tha t now, oka y?” T a te nodde d, a sort of wonde r on his fa ce , a nd B ria n lowe re d his mouth, thinking once a ga in tha t T a te ’s lips we re surprisingly soft. “I promise . I’m going to ta ke such good ca re of you.” T he kiss wa s brie f, a nd B ria n force d himse lf to go put on a pa ir of sle e p shorts a nd a T -shirt. A s he wa lke d out of the ba throom, though, he he a rd T a te sta rt to sing “A nd our love would ha ve soa re d, ove r tre e tops ove r rooftops.…” to himse lf, a nd B ria n wa nte d to turn a round a nd hug him just for tha t a lone .

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O h G od, he ’d misse d he a ring Ta lke r sing. H e re stra ine d himse lf, a nd got the food from his trunk a nd ma de the m ome le ts (which he wa s re a lly good a t), a nd by the time T a te ca me down the ha ll, we a ring brightly colore d Iron Ma n boxe r shorts (he ha d a colle ction—he se e me d to fa vor supe rhe roe s a nd S cooby-D oo) a nd nothing e lse , the re wa s food on the ta ble , a nd the la st of the ir milk in two gla sse s, a nd a bunch of pinks a nd da ffodils a nd butte rcups tha t ha d be e n growing up a round Lyndie ’s little ca bin tha t she ’d cut a nd se nt with B ria n in a we t pa pe r towe l. B ria n ha d put the m in a B ig G ulp cup, be ca use it wa s wha t the y ha d, but the y ma de the kitche n sme ll good, a t le a st, a nd the y ma de T a te smile . B ria n smile d ba ck a nd ducke d his he a d, shyly, a nd turne d a round to dry his ha nds on a kitche n towe l tha t ha d once be e n a ta pe stry ca le nda r. W ithout wa rning, he fe lt T a te ’s a rms cre e ping a round his wa ist, a nd T a te ’s ba re che st pre sse d up a round his ba ck. B ria n brought his ha nd up to touch T a te ’s ha nds, a nd T a te whispe re d, “T e ll me I didn’t ima gine it.” “Y ou didn’t ima gine it.” “T e ll me it will be true in the morning.” “It’s be e n true for the la st nine months—he ll, the la st two a nd a ha lf ye a rs—I don’t know why it would cha nge now.” T a lke r nodde d, a nd re ste d his che e k a ga inst B ria n’s shoulde r. “O ka y. I ca n e a t now.” “G ood,” B ria n sa id gruffly. “Y ou’re ge tting too thin.” T he y sa t a nd a te , much like the y use d to, a nd T a lke r told him a bout work a nd a bout the ne w D J a nd a bout the cooks in the ba ck who ke pt trying out ne w shit tha t ta ste d e xa ctly like shit, a nd the n he stoppe d.

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“T his is how it ha ppe ne d,” he sa id, looking a t B ria n. B ria n stoppe d mid-bite a nd looke d ba ck. “T his is how wha t ha ppe ne d?” “T his is how I ne ve r kne w. Y ou just… you sit a nd liste n. Y ou ne ve r ta lk.” “I only ta lk whe n I’ve got some thing to sa y,” B ria n sa id logica lly, not sure how to fix this. H e wa s ta lking a s much a s he could, now—it ha d to be e nough, right? T a lke r nodde d, a nd took a thoughtful bite of B ria n’s ome le t— he ’d cle a ne d his pla te , a nd B ria n still ha d butte rflie s in his stoma ch. “Y ou know, I wa s thinking a bout C hristma s.” B ria n flushe d. “My gift wa s pre tty la me ,” he a pologiz e d. W he n the y’d move d in, the y couldn’t a fford both the P G &E a nd the S MU D de posits. A s a re sult, the y’d ha d to ma ke a choice be twe e n he a t a nd light. T he y’d chose n light, a nd ha d spe nt much of the ir winte r wra ppe d up in bla nke ts. B ria n ha d borrowe d Lyndie ’s se wing ma chine a nd a bunch of he r old she e ts a nd put toge the r triple la ye rs of old she e t, old fuz z y bla nke t from a thrift store , a nd a nothe r old she e t, a nd se wn it toge the r into a sort of a poor ma n’s comforte r, since he a nd T a te ha dn’t e ve r se e me d to ge t wa rm e nough. “It wa s pe rfe ct,” T a te sa id, a nd B ria n doubte d it. “I e spe cia lly like d the list of music you put on the ca rd, the shit you’d buy me whe n you ha d the mone y. T ha t.… Je sus. B ut tha t wa sn’t wha t I wa s thinking a bout.” “T he n wha t?” “T he tre e .” “W ha t a bout it?” “I me ntion to you once , in like two ye a rs, tha t I’ve ne ve r be e n in my own home with my own C hristma s tre e , a nd one night I ge t

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ba ck from work a nd you we nt out to your a unt’s a nd choppe d down a tre e . A nd you de cora te d it with club flie rs a nd construction pa pe r cha ins a nd popcorn a nd fe a the r boa s you got a t the dolla r store .…” B ria n blushe d a ga in a nd T a te shook his he a d a nd wipe d his e ye s with the ba ck of his ha nd. “I’m so stupid,” T a te sa id, a nd B ria n sa id, “T ha t’s not true !” right on top of him. “N o, I a m—you’re a lwa ys sa ying how stupid you a re , but.…” A nd now he wipe d his fa ce with his pa lm. “H ow could I look a t tha t tre e , a nd the bla nke t you ma de me , a nd a ll the time s you cooke d me dinne r… how could I look a t those things a nd not know you love d me ? H ow could I.…” H is voice broke . “O h G od, B ria n—you told me tha t night, a nd I ha d so much noise going on in my he a d tha t I didn’t e ve n liste n!” B ria n couldn’t look a t him. “I wa sn’t ta lking e nough,” he sa id, his voice rough a nd a sha me d. “I… I wa s so use d to wa nting to be invisible —to liking it tha t wa y. I didn’t know how to ma ke you se e me . It’s my fa ult.…” “S hut up.…” “N o, it’s my fa ult!” B ria n looke d up, a nd now he wa s doing a little bit of crying himse lf. W e ll, he ’d known it wa s coming. “It wa s my fa ult—” “S hut up!” “—if I’d be e n bra ve r, like you—” “I’m se rious!” A nd B ria n found tha t he could ye ll if he ne e de d to. “S o a m I, da mmit!” “I wa s a n idiot!” “A nd I wa s a cowa rd!”

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B ria n broke comple te ly. H e found himse lf on his kne e s be fore T a lke r, ta king his two ha nds, the sound a nd the cripple d, a nd holding the m to his che e ks. “O h G od, T a te . It is . I wa s a cowa rd. I wa s so a fra id I wa s wrong, so a fra id I’d hurt you worse by coming out tha n I would by be ing quie t. I ke e p thinking, I could ha ve sa ve d you… I swe a r, if I could ha ve shoute d it or… or done a nything but wa tch you wa lk out tha t door with tha t guy a nd hope you would be oka y!” T he wa ve of worry tha t ha d swe lle d in his che st, ma de viole nt by sile nce a nd the horrible we e ks spe nt wa tching T a te be come some one quie t a nd a lie n a nd fa r a wa y, tha t te rrible se a -squa ll of pa in, cra she d out on the m both. B ria n found himse lf sobbing in T a te ’s la p, se e king comfort like he ne ve r ha d in his life , not e ve n whe n he wa s a child a nd his pa re nts ha d die d, le a ving him bruise d a nd frighte ne d in the ba ck of the ca r. T a lke r wa s the re for him. T a te ’s a rms ca me a round his shoulde rs, a nd the re the y we re , curle d up in a little ba ll on the che a p kitche n cha ir, crying toge the r for wha t the y ha d both lost a nd both found, a ll in the circle of e a ch othe r’s a rms. T a te ’s ha nds ca me to fra me B ria n’s fa ce , a nd B ria n wa sn’t sure wha t T a te wa s going to sa y the n, be ca use the re wa s a n utte rly still he a rtbe a t, a he ld-bre a th time -stop be twe e n the m, a s the y sta re d a t e a ch othe r in na ke dne ss a nd a bsolution, a nd the n the mome nt e xplode d in a kiss. T he y le ft the pla te s on the ta ble (a thing tha t didn’t ha ppe n ofte n—the re we re ra ts a s big a s possums living in the D umpste r be hind the ir a pa rtme nt) a nd kisse d, sta gge re d, stumble d, a nd kisse d some more . T he y e nde d up in B ria n’s be d, be ca use his wa s close r (a nd cle a ne r, but ne ithe r of the m thought a bout tha t), a nd T a te ’s ha nds we re unde r B ria n’s shirt a nd the n the wa istba nd of his

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shorts a nd T a te ’s shorts we re kicke d to the floor, a nd the ir mouths we re me she d a nd fra ntic a nd the n.… T a te ma de a wonde rful, te rrible sound, a nd it e choe d in B ria n’s mouth. T he y we re tota lly na ke d, a nd B ria n wa s touching him, comple te ly, cove ring Ta te with B ria n’s ma ssie r body, e nfolding him in bulky shoulde rs, using a ll of his skin to simply, huma nly, kindly touch the ma n he love d. B ria n thought his he a rt wa s going to burst through his che st.

G imme gimme gimme gimme gotta ha ve it gotta ha ve it ne e d it ne e d it ne e d you ne e d you ne e d you ne e d you ne e d you ne e d you…. “O h, G od, T a te , I ne e d you!” T a te trie d to kiss down his ja w the n, trie d to be the “dre a m boy” of the ba throom fa nta sy, but e ve n tha t wa sn’t the dre a m boy B ria n wa nte d. H e tra ppe d Ta te with a n a rm unde r his a rmpit a nd ke pt him up e ve n, fa ce to fa ce . “D on’t le a ve me ,” he murmure d, grinding up a ga inst T a te . T a te swung a le g ove r his hip a nd the y me she d toge the r, grinding, a s much of the ir skin touching a s the y could possibly ma na ge . “D on’t le a ve me ,” B ria n re pe a te d, kissing T a te ’s chin, his ja w, the corne r of his mouth, his ne ck. “D on’t le a ve me , T a te … G od, I love you… don’t le a ve me .…” T a te wa s puz z le d, B ria n kne w, but he couldn’t he lp it. Tha t fe a r… tha t te rrible fe a r. A ll those nights of che cking his room, fe a ring the worst, of se e ing T a te tighte n within himse lf, the T a lke r inside him sile nce d by pa in.… “I’m he re .…” “S ta y.…”

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T he y kisse d some more a nd ground a ga inst e a ch othe r, a lmost pa infully, but it fe lt so good. N o woma n’s fle sh ha d e ve r fe lt a s good wra ppe d a round B ria n’s cock a s T a te ’s ba re skin a nd pubic ha ir fe lt, cha fing, pre ssing, rubbing.… B ria n ha d come e a rlie r tha t night, a nd Ta te … T a te ha d proba bly not come , e ve n in the priva cy of his room, for ma ny months. H e wa s ha rd… ha rd, pulsing a nd e ve n B ria n could fe e l the a che in him, the ne e d. B ria n’s ha nd wa s ine xpe rt, but he re a che d it down be twe e n the m a nd gra spe d T a te firmly. H e fe lt… much like B ria n’s cock fe lt in his own ha nd, e xce pt for some roughne ss on one side , a nd the re wa s a lwa ys… a lwa ys.… “A a a a a a a a hh.…” T a te ’s he a d fe ll ba ck, a nd he gra spe d B ria n’s shoulde rs so ha rd he thre a te ne d to le a ve bruise s. B ria n didn’t mind. “G ood?” he a ske d, stroking a ga in. T he skin wa s so da mne d soft, a nd the he a t a nd the ha rdne ss shot de sire right up B ria n’s spine . T a te ma de tha t sound a ga in a nd finishe d with a , “P le a se ple a se ple a se … oh G od more ….” T he sound of T a te ’s ple a ding wa s a lmost e nough to ma ke B ria n come , but he ha d some thing he ha d to do first. H e re a lly wa nte d to ta ste it, to ta ke it into his mouth a nd suck on it, but T a te wa s too ra w, too close right now, a nd he wa s clutching B ria n’s shoulde rs like he didn’t wa nt to le t him go. B ria n ha d to se ttle for stroking it, a nd e ve ry time T a te spurte d pre -come on his ha nd, B ria n shive re d. H e sta rte d rubbing the he a d with his thumb, a nd he love d tha t little ke e ning sound T a te ma de whe n he did tha t, so he ke pt it up, a nd the n he fe lt T a te ’s cock throb in his ha nd a nd he ma de one himse lf. It didn’t ta ke long a fte r tha t, a fe w a wkwa rd pumps, some fra ntic stroke s ove r the cockhe a d, a nd be fore he kne w it, T a te thre w ba ck his he a d a ga in a nd shudde re d. H is cock

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throbbe d viole ntly in B ria n’s pa lm (oh, such powe r!) a nd the spa ce be twe e n the m wa s spa tte re d a nd hot a nd sticky. B ria n ignore d the hot stickine ss a nd pulle d T a te ba ck into his che st so he could hold his dre a m boy while he tre mble d the la st of his orga sm into B ria n’s a rms. “O h,” T a te murmure d, whe n he could spe a k a ga in. “T ha t’s se x.” “’s not se x,” B ria n pa nte d, his bre a th flutte ring the ribbon of ha ir ove r T a te ’s pe rfe ct e a r. H is groin wa s still ha rd a nd e ve ry muscle in his ba ck stre tche d ta ut with the a ching ne e d to come . “’s soooo much be tte r tha n se x.” T a te pulle d a wa y for a mome nt, a nd a dre a my, glowing ve rsion of his usua l luminous grin wa s shining up a t B ria n. “Y ou ha ve n’t e ve n come ye t.” B ria n grinne d ba ck. “N ot gonna . S ome thing I’ve got to do first.” W e ll, first he ne e de d to fe tch a wa shcloth a nd cle a n the m both up—but he ha d to confe ss to a se cre t ye a rning to just cle a n T a te off with his tongue . T he thought ma de his cock (a lre a dy bobbing ra the r incongruously a s he wa lke d to the ba throom) jump a nd throb. Ma ybe some da y, whe n the y both kne w wha t the y we re doing, the y could ge t sloppy like tha t, but right now he ha d a promise to ke e p. H e cle a ne d T a te off, a nd T a te la id the re a nd wa tche d him with those ink-da rk e ye s. W he n he wa s done , he put the wa shcloth on the e nd ta ble a nd be nt his he a d to the e xa ct spot on T a te ’s stoma ch whe re the old sca rs me t the smooth skin, a nd kisse d it, e xte nding his tongue a little to touch. H e e xte nde d his ha nd downwa rd, down to the a pe x of T a te ’s thighs, a nd looke d curiously a nd without sha me in the ye llow gla re of the stre e t la mp through the ir window.

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T a te ’s hip a nd fla nk a nd uppe r thigh ha d a ll be e n burne d. H is sca rs e xte nde d to one of his te sticle s, a nd it wa s shrive le d, ba ld, a nd unthrifty, but the re st of T a te ’s e quipme nt se e me d to be unble mishe d a nd in working orde r, a nd B ria n wa s gla d. H e e xte nde d his ha nd down the te nde r swe ll of T a te ’s stoma ch, rubbe d his thumb a long the de ma rca tion be twe e n unble mishe d skin a nd proof of T a te ’s surviva l, down his stoma ch, down his thigh, a nd ge ntly, ge ntly, a long his most te nde r of fle sh. “It’s… not pe rfe ct,” T a te whispe re d. “B ullshit,” B ria n re sponde d re ve re ntly, a nd kisse d his wa y down to T a te ’s hipbone , tickling ca re fully with his tongue . “B ria n,” T a te obje cte d, turning side wa ys so B ria n couldn’t re a ch. “P le a se . N ot tonight. P le a se don’t touch me the re . N ot whe n you ca n se e .” B ria n sighe d a nd re ste d his chin on T a te ’s hipbone . “I wa nt to kiss you e ve rywhe re ,” he sa id softly. T a te twitche d, lying the re in the be d. “I couldn’t sta nd it if you turne d a wa y from me ,” he sa id. “N ot he re . It… I me a n, it’s you. I couldn’t sta nd it if you thought… if you we re a ll like , you know, ‘e e e e e www’ a nd….” H e wa s ge tting upse t, which wa s not wha t B ria n wa nte d a t a ll. H e kisse d his wa y ba ck up to T a te ’s stoma ch, a nd nuz z le d it, proud whe n he e licite d a giggle . “O ka y—so I love you, a nd I think you’re be a utiful, but we ’ll ta ke a little time with tha t, oka y?” W hich wa s some thing T a te ha d not ta ke n with his othe r a tte mpts, B ria n thought with a sigh. He ’d le ft himse lf vulne ra ble a nd ba re to pe ople who didn’t know him, didn’t love him, a nd he could he a r it in T a lke r’s voice —the y’d sca rre d him a ll ove r a ga in.

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T a te grunte d a nd ra n his ha nds through wha t wa s le ft of B ria n’s ha ir, a nd B ria n kisse d a ga in, using his tongue ge ntly on the rough fle sh. “T ha nk you,” he whispe re d. “T ha nk you.” “T he n wha t do you wa nt me to do?” B ria n a ske d, ke e ping his voice ple a sa nt—a nd giving T a lke r some control. “W ha t?” T a te put out a ha nd to B ria n’s fla nk a nd pe tte d him. “I wa s gonna kiss down to introduce myse lf to Mr. H a ppy… not a n option. S o, you know, I ne e d a pla n.” H e kisse d a ga in, gra tifie d whe n T a lke r wiggle d. “Y ou’re a lwa ys good with pla ns.” “K iss up my body,” T a te sa id, his voice husky. “S o I ca n kiss you, a nd the n I ca n kiss your Mr. H a ppy.” B ria n smile d softly a t him, a nd “Mr. H a ppy” ga ve a vicious, pa inful throb of its own. “D e a l.” H e kisse d T a te ’s sca r-line a ga in, a nd a ga in, up to T a te ’s shoulde r, whe re the ta ttoo be ga n, the n up to his ne ck a nd his chin. H e fe lt the pla ce s whe re the skin wa s so thin, he couldn’t ima gine putting ne e dle s a nd ink the re , or the pa in it would e nta il. H e fe lt the rough, lumpy pa rts, a nd the twiste d pa rts, whe re skin a nd fle sh ha d fought in the he a ling. B y the time he ’d ma de it to T a te ’s chin, T a te wa s whimpe ring. B ria n kisse d the sca r whe re T a te ’s lip pie rcing ha d be e n, be fore it ha d gotte n infe cte d, a nd the n stroke d his tongue a long T a lke r’s lips with a te a se . B e fore B ria n cla ime d his mouth, he sa id, “Y ou a re a ll be a utiful, T a te W a lke r. Y ou he a r me ?” T a te nodde d a nd ope ne d his mouth unde r B ria n’s. T he kiss we nt on a long time , a nd a ll of B ria n’s urge ncy, a ll of tha t glorious,

gimme gimme gimme , ne e d it ne e d it ne e d it omigod gotta gotta ha ve it ba -be e wa s ba ck whe n T a te ’s wa rm mouth broke off from his.

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T a te didn’t go for subtle —the re wa s no kissing his wa y down B ria n’s body. O ne minute the y we re kissing, a nd the ne xt, his ope n mouth wa s e ngulfing B ria n’s swolle n cock. B ria n a bout ca me off the be d, it wa s so sudde n, a nd the n T a te ’s mouth tighte ne d a nd he sucke d in his che e ks a nd bobbe d his he a d up a nd down so his lips ma ssa ge d the ridge of B ria n’s circumcise d cockhe a d. H is fist ca me up to the ba se a nd sque e z e d, a nd within se conds, B ria n wa s se e ing sta rs. A s blow jobs we nt, it wa s not the most e xpe rtly give n—no fore pla y, no ta sting, no licking or te a sing—it wa s a ll a bout Ta te ’s cra ving to ha ve B ria n’s fle sh down his throa t. B ria n could live with tha t. It took a minute , ma ybe two, be fore B ria n thrust into T a te ’s mouth ha rd, moa ne d “C oming.…” with just e nough time to give T a te some wa rning, a nd sta rte d sha king with gimme gimme gimme gotta ha ve it ba -be e be fore he groa ne d ha rd a nd ca me . H is e ntire body ca me off the be d, a nd he clutche d T a te to his groin a s he shook a nd shudde re d a nd groa ne d some more , curling a round his dre a m boy a s he dumpe d come into his mouth. H is dre a m boy swa llowe d like it wa s some thing he ’d dre a me d a bout too. W he n the convulsions of clima x ha d stoppe d, T a te pushe d himse lf ba ck up to fa ce to fa ce , wipe d his mouth with the ba ck of his ha nd, a nd grinne d. “N o one ’s le t me do tha t be fore .” B ria n nodde d. “I ca n se e why,” he bre a the d, still tre mbling. “Y our te chnique ’s sort of da nge rous. Y ou suck me a ny ha rde r a nd you’ll be choking on my e ye ba lls.” T a te ’s grin wide ne d a nd he chortle d softly, a nd B ria n kisse d him be ca use he ha d to.

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T he y fe ll a sle e p, pra ctica lly in the middle of the kiss. B ria n woke up a little la te r a nd re a che d down to a rra nge the cove rs ove r both of the m, a nd while he wa s doing tha t, T a te mumble d some thing a bout “little spoon” a nd rolle d ove r on his side . B ria n took him up on it, a nd the y fe ll a sle e p, B ria n’s front to T a te ’s ba ck, so B ria n could e ngulf T a te in his a rms a nd his wide shoulde rs a nd ke e p his dre a m boy sa fe . It didn’t work. T a te twitche d in his sle e p. Not consta ntly, but occa siona lly. A nd he a lmost woke up twice with ba d dre a ms. E a ch time , B ria n thought a bout a ll the time s no one ha d be e n the re for T a lke r whe n he ’d ha d ba d dre a ms, a nd his che st hurt. It hurt ba d e nough to wa ke him up a bout ha lf a n hour be fore his a la rm. H e la id the re , snuggling into T a lke r’s body a nd pe e ring thoughtfully a t his shoulde r ta ttoo in the gra y light coming in from his window, a nd thought ve ry ca re fully a bout wha t he wa nte d for himse lf, a nd wha t he wa nte d for T a lke r. H e wa s slow on the upta ke some time s, but he did ge t shit e ve ntua lly, whe n he ha d some quie t in his own skull to figure the m out. “W ha t a re you thinking a bout?” T a lke r’s voice wa s sle e py, a nd B ria n kisse d the skin on his shoulde r with a sma ll smile . “H ow do you know I’m thinking?” “D unno. Just do. It’s like the sile nce cha nge s.” T ha t ma de B ria n smile , too, a nd he rubbe d his che e k on tha t de cora te d rough a nd smooth shoulde r. He like d the fe e ling—mostly be ca use it wa s T a te ’s skin. “I’m thinking tha t I’m not e nough,” he sa id a fte r a mome nt. “I ca n try to be —I’ll die trying to be e nough. I’m thinking tha t so ma ny pe ople ha ve le t you down, you ne e d more tha n just me .”

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T a te grunte d a ne ga tive . “Y ou’re a ll I ne e d,” he sa id confide ntly, but B ria n thought tha t ma ybe it wa s the sa me sort of confide nce tha t ha d le d him out the door with T re vor a nd B la iz e , without thinking tha t a nything could possibly go wrong. H e e spe cia lly thought so whe n T a te sa id, “Y ou’re my P rince C ha rming, sa ving me from me .” B ria n grunte d, a nd didn’t a dd, “Y e a h, but not soon e nough,” be ca use tha t wa s going to be his own burde n to ca rry. H e didn’t sa y, “B ut wha t if I die ?” e ithe r, e ve n though he , of a ll pe ople , kne w tha t losing the pe ople you love d most wa s a re a l possibility. T ha t thought wa s morbid a nd it wa s the la st thing T a te ne e de d to he a r or think a bout. W ha t he did sa y, howe ve r, wa s ma ybe one of the wise st things he ’d e ve r thought of. “Y e a h, T a lke r, but do you ha ve a ny ide a how ma ny pe ople it took to ge t me in tha t ba throom?” “H ow do you me a n?” S igh. “I me a n, it took V irginia to he lp me come out of the close t, a nd A unt Lyndie to he lp me ge t dre sse d a nd to a cce pt me for who I wa s, a nd it took the guy I kne w from work to ta ke my shift for me a nd it took Je d to put the big ye llow sign up so we didn’t ge t inte rrupte d forty ga z illion time s… a nd tha t wa s just to ge t me into tha t ba throom. T a lke r—a ll you got is me . A nd A unt Lyndie —you know tha t, right? S he love s you too.” “Mmmm.” T a te took one of B ria n’s ha nds a nd rubbe d his che e k a ga inst it. “I like he r too.” “G ood,” B ria n sa id. T a lke r’s ne ck wa s the re , a nd e xpose d, a nd he ha d to kiss tha t be fore going on. “B ut you ne e d some one e lse to he lp you fix your he a rt.”

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T a te wa s quick, wa y quicke r tha n B ria n, a nd B ria n kne w the mome nt he wa s truly a wa ke a nd ha d followe d the conve rsa tion. “O h ge e z … B ria n… I don’t wa nt to.” “I’ll go with you,” B ria n sa id firmly. “A nd I don’t wa nt to e ithe r. B ut I wa nt you ha ppy. Y ou didn’t se e me . I me a n… you sa w me , but you didn’t se e me . Y ou ne e de d some one to ke e p you sa fe so ba d, you didn’t se e tha t I love d you too. N ow tha t you know I love you, I think you ne e d some one sa fe .” T a lke r sighe d, hunche d his shoulde rs, a nd shive re d. B ria n cove re d those na rrow shoulde rs with his own. “W e ca n’t a fford it, a nd e ve n if we could, I don’t e ve n know whe re to go.” “It’s fre e a t school.” H e ’d looke d into counse ling the da y T a te ha d ma de la undry e xplode a ll ove r the wa shroom. T a lke r ma de a ne ga tive sound, a nd B ria n pe rse ve re d. “I’ll ma ke the a ppointme nt for you,” he whispe re d. “W e ca n go during our bre a k be twe e n cla sse s. P le a se , Ta lke r. P le a se .” T he re wa s a ta ut a nd pa lpa ble sile nce . F ina lly T a te ’s shoulde rs re la xe d, a nd B ria n kne w he ’d won. “Y e a h, fine . B ut I gotta te ll you, you sure ca n kill a good morning glow, you know?” B ria n’s na ke d body wa s pre sse d a long T a te ’s na ke d ba ck, a nd B ria n’s re lie f wa s so a cute tha t a ll of tha t glorious skin to skin ga ve a big, ha ppy throb. H e wiggle d his hips sugge stive ly a nd smoothe d his ha nd down T a te ’s stoma ch a nd a ll points south. “S orry, ba by,” he soothe d, ta king Ta te ’s se mi-ha rd cock in his ha nd a nd pla ying with it to se e wha t ma de it grow ha rde r. “Le t me ma ke it up to you.”

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E pilogue La te r

HE

D ID N ’T wa rn T a lke r a bout the a ppointme nt. H e ma de it, a nd a

we e k la te r, a s the y we re me e ting during the ir cla ss bre a k, B ria n gra bbe d T a te ’s ha nd a nd sa id, “C ome with me .” (T he y’d sche dule d a bre a k be twe e n cla sse s toge the r since the y’d move d in. T hinking ba ck on tha t de cision, B ria n ha d to wonde r a t his own stupidity. W ha t guy doe s tha t for some one he doe sn’t wa nt to sle e p with?) T a lke r’s disa ppointme nt whe n the y showe d up a t the school counse ling ce nte r wa s pa lpa ble . “B ria n.…” he sa id, a nd it wa s da nge rously close to a whine . “T a lke r.…” B ria n wa rne d. T a te sighe d, a nd his shoulde rs slumpe d, de fe a te d. “Y ou’re coming with me , right? Y ou promise d.” In the pa st we e k, B ria n ha d gotte n ve ry use d to holding T a te ’s ha nd in public, to kissing him brie fly in the qua d, to not giving a shit a bout wha t pe ople thought of the two of the m. H e ’d le t T a te buz z his Moha wk into a fa ux-ha wk a nd the n ta ke n cra p a bout his ha ircut a nd la ughe d it off (a lthough he wa s ve ry gla d it wa s growing ba ck in), a nd ta ke n complime nts on the studs in his e a rs a nd the one in his nose . H e ’d gone into the club to wa it for T a te , a nd a lthough he still didn’t wa nt to da nce , he ’d le a rne d to a ppre cia te the joy of da ncing, a nd how the me n in tha t club we re ha ppy—so ha ppy—to

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be some pla ce whe re da ncing with me n wa s sa fe . H e ha d tha nke d his frie nd a t work for he lping him out—a nd whe n R a y a ske d how his boyfrie nd wa s doing, he a nswe re d, “B e tte r. B ut I’m still worrie d.” W he n a girl ove rhe a rd the conve rsa tion a nd sa id, “A ww, ma n—it figure s,” a nd rolle d he r e ye s, he ’d ma na ge d to grin a t he r, like he ’d known he wa s ga y his whole life . G ive n a ll tha t, it wa s ve ry e a sy—fa r e a sie r tha n he e ve r would ha ve ima gine d, tha t pa inful a fte rnoon spe nt with his e x-girlfrie nd— to close the spa ce be twe e n him a nd his dre a m boy a nd kiss him softly, the n touch fore he a ds with him, the re in the ope n gre e n in front of the school he a lth building. “I promise d,” he sa id se riously. “N ow come on, T a lke r. I love you. Le t’s go live up to your na me .” T he y ha d ma de love a lmost e ve ry night—but T a te wa s still se lf-conscious, a nd B ria n still ha d to ge ntle him into be ing touche d a nd looke d a t.

W ha t we re you going to do, Ta lke r? P ie rce it? T a ttoo it? It’s yours. I love it. Le t me touch it. Y our body is so be a utiful, B ria n. D on’t te ll me you don’t se e the diffe re nce . T he diffe re nce is you’re my dre a m boy. If I wa s my own dre a m boy, I’d be a n idiot. And proba bly re a lly boring. N ow he re … (kiss, lick, suck) doe sn’t tha t fe e l good? A hhhh… do… no… oh G od, don’t stop…. B ria n wa nte d so ba dly for T a lke r to be lie ve he de se rve d love , right down to the most e le me nta l form of it: touch. H e looke d a nxiously a t T a te , studying tha t ma ske d fa ce a nd the tra nspa re nt he a rt be ne a th it, hoping to se e coope ra tion.

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T a lke r nodde d, fina lly, a nd B ria n sighe d in re lie f. C lutching ha nds tight e nough to turn B ria n’s finge rs blue , the y turne d towa rd the counse ling office . “B ria n?” T a lke r a ske d a s the y got to the door. “Y ou’ll sit on my right, oka y?” B ria n’s he a rt ble d, a nd he close d his e ye s a nd ha d a little fa ith tha t this would he lp the two of the m ma ke the ba nda ge s the y ne e de d. “A lwa ys, T a lke r. I promise .” It wa s a ppa re ntly the right a nswe r. T he ir ha nds cle nche d in fa ith, the y wa lke d towa rd a future toge the r.

A bout the A uthor

A MY L A N E te a che s high school E nglish, mothe rs four childre n, a nd write s the occa siona l book. W he n she ’s not be gging stude nts to sitthe -he ll-down or ta xiing kids to socce r/da nce /ka ra te —oh my! she ca n be found ca tching e me rge ncy na ps, groce ry shopping, or hiding in the ba throom, trying to re a d without inte rruption. S he will ne ve r be found cooking, cle a ning, or doing dome stic chore s, but she ha s be e n known to knit up a n e me rge ncy ha t/bla nke t/pa ir of socks for a ny occa sion wha tsoe ve r or some time s for no re a son a t a ll. S he write s in the showe r, while commuting, while he r cla sse s a re doing bookwork, or while she ’s wa nde ring the ne ighborhood a t night pre te nding to e xe rcise a nd ha s le a rne d from ne ce ssity to type like the wind. S he live s in a spide r-infe ste d a nd crumbling house in a shoddy suburb a nd counts on he r be love d ma te , Ma ck, to ke e p he r te the re d to re a lity—which he doe s while ke e ping he r ce ll phone cha rge d a s a bonus. S he ’s be e n ma rrie d for twe nty plus ye a rs a nd still be lie ve s in T wu Wuv, with a ca pita l T wu a nd a ca pita l W uv, a nd she doe sn’t se e a ny re a son a t a ll for tha t to cha nge . V isit A my’s we b site a t http://www.gre e nshill.com. Y ou ca n e -ma il he r a t a myla ne @ gre e nshill.com.

A lso by A MY L A N E

http://www.dre a mspinne rpre ss.com

A lso from D R E A MS P IN N E R P R E S S

http://www.dre a mspinne rpre ss.com

C opyright

Talker ©Copyright Amy Lane, 2010 Published by Dreamspinner Press 4760 Preston Road Suite 244-149 Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. Cover Art by Reese Dante http://www.reesedante.com This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ Released in the United States of America September 2010 eBook Edition eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-598-2