by TJ Klune
Josy’s eyes bulged as he slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from screaming.
Gustavo looked up sharply.
Josy was having trouble breathing. “Dude!” he squeaked between his fingers.
Gustavo nodded solemnly. “Dude. You can’t say anything. You’re the only one who knows.”
Josy drew an X over his heart. “I so swear.” He stood and walked over to Gustavo, grabbed him by the arm, and dragged him toward the front door. He pulled Gustavo outside and shut the door behind him. Once he was sure Casey couldn’t hear, he threw his arms around Gustavo and started jumping up and down.
Gustavo did not, in fact, jump up and down, but he did return the hug.
“This is the best!” Josy crowed. “You don’t even know!”
“I think I do,” Gustavo said stiffly. “It was my idea, after all.” He hesitated. Then, “Do you think he’ll say yes?”
Josy stopped jumping and took a step back, hands still clasped on Gustavo’s arms. “Hell yeah, man. Of course he will. He’ll say yes so fast your head will spin.”
Gustavo looked relieved. “Good. I’m not worried or anything, but it’s still good you think so.”
“I’m so happy for you.”
“Me too. About you.”
Josy beamed at him. “Really?”
Gustavo shrugged awkwardly. “Yes. Quincy is… he’s nice. And twitchy. He writes monster porn, but I guess nobody’s perfect. But he likes you, and you smile really big whenever he’s around, and that’s what’s most important.”
“I’m so happy Casey found you,” Josy said seriously. “Sometimes I get sad that he’s so far away, but then I remember he’s with you, and that makes it better. Then I remember you’re both far away, and I get sad again.”
“Yes, well. That sucks.”
“It does, dude.”
Gustavo scowled at him. Then he mumbled something Josy didn’t catch.
“What was that? Couldn’t hear you, man.”
Gustavo sighed and looked skyward. “I said, I miss you when you’re not here too. You’re one of Casey’s best friends, and I tolerate you most of the time. It’s going to be hard when the movie is over and you go back to Califor—oh my god, are you crying?”
“No,” Josy sniffled, wiping his face. “And even if I was, it was because I thought of a video I saw about a dog that was adopted after being rejected many times. I love you, dude. And I can’t wait for you and Casey to get married. I get to be in the wedding. And there better be a weed bar.”
Gustavo groaned. “You know there will be. Look. Just—do you really want to know what to do about Quincy?”
“Yeah, man. I mean, I sort of have an idea, but you’re, like, this love guru—”
“First, what the hell, never call me that again. That’s terrible, and you should be ashamed of yourself.”
“And second?”
“Second, go for broke. Don’t worry about what to say because you’ll know it when it happens.”
“You told Casey you wanted to be a lesbian with him and that you wanted to shave his pinewood beaver—”
“Oh my god, that was an accident—”
“Hey, man, I’m not judging, I’m just saying that maybe worrying about what to say is kind of important—”
“It made sense at the time. There was context—”
“I still want to audition for that movie if it ever becomes a real thing—”
“Would you shut up and listen to me?”
Josy grinned. “Always, man.”
Gustavo took a deep breath. “Just… do it.”
Josy blinked at him. “Tell him the slogan for Nike? What will that—”
Gustavo threw up his hands. “You know what? You’re on your own. Get off my property before I call the police.”
Josy laughed as he walked down the stairs. The air was cold and the stars were twinkling overhead. He felt good. He felt… better. It would work out. And even if it didn’t, he’d be okay.
(After bouts of crying and making Casey and Gustavo bring him joints and ice cream.)
He stopped when he reached the sidewalk and turned around. Gustavo stood on the porch, arms across his thin chest. “Thanks, man. You’re one of the good ones.”
Gustavo rolled his eyes. “I own that part of the sidewalk too. Keep walking.”
And so Josy did.
QUINCY WOKE up briefly when Josy returned to their room at the B and B.
“Hey,” he said, voice rough. “All right?”
Josy had to stop from blurting out everything right then. “Yeah. Just couldn’t sleep. Went for a walk.”
“Blanket fort?”
That sounded good. “Blanket fort.”
Quincy was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow again inside their blanket fort.
Josy watched him sleep for a minute or two, not wanting to make it weird. He really didn’t want to have to look up HOW TO NOT BE CREEPY.
Soon, he too slept.
Chapter 17
FROM JOSIAH Erickson’s Instagram Story
“Hey there, followers! Happy Turkey Day, or as we say here in Abby, No-Thanks Giving. Did you know that the natives of this country were eradicated and marginalized as the colonists took over? It still happens to this day. That sucks. Not trying to make you feel bad, but remember when you’re eating your turkey that a lot of our ancestors were terrible people. And what’s even worse is that there are still terrible people in this country. What’s up with that? I have no idea. I was going to borrow a friend’s encyclopedia to read up on it, but then I remembered it’s 2015 and so I just used my phone. White people suck. And yes, I know I’m white, but I can still say it because it’s true. We deserve to be called out for our stupid shit. We have to be better. So… do that.
“In other news, today’s a big day! For… um. Reasons. Reasons that I can’t quite say anything about. But hopefully it’ll be good, and then I’ll be able to tell you all about it later! Or maybe I’ll be crying and eating ice cream, so just be prepared for that. I don’t know that anyone looks good crying and eating ice cream at the same time, but I’ll try my best.”
“HEY, MOM and Dad! It’s me, Josy. Just… leaving you another message. I don’t know if you got my last one about the movie since I didn’t hear from you, but it’s going well! In fact, we’ve only got a couple of weeks left on it. I can’t wait for you to see it. I don’t know if they’ll play it in Wooster, so you might have to go to Cleveland if you want to… see it… and—
“You know what? Don’t even worry about it, man. I know you won’t go see it. And that’s really shitty of you. Maybe I didn’t turn out how you wanted me to be. Maybe I’m not the best son in the world. But that shouldn’t matter. I took a chance and it turned out okay. I’ve got a good life. I’ve got the best friends. I’ve got a roof over my head. Well, it’s not my roof because I’m in Oregon for the movie, but I still have one in Los Angeles! That I paid for myself. I didn’t ask for help from you or anyone else. I did it on my own. And guess what. I made something of myself. For myself. You might not approve, but I don’t need it. Not anymore. I’ve got these people, okay? And they’re good. They think I matter. They think I’m important. And there’s this guy. He’s awesome and has depression and anxiety, but he’s so kickass about it. He’s such a fighter. And I really like him. I might even love him a little. I’m going to tell him today. All of it. Because when you care about someone, they deserve to hear it. I’m nervous and scared, but I’m also excited, because good things happen to good people. And I’m a good person. So yeah. I guess that’s all I want to say.
“Oh, and happy Thanksgiving! And merry Christmas! Bye.”
“WHAT ARE you going to do?” Starla demanded as soon as he answered the phone. “I just saw your Instagram. You can’t do anything to jeopardize your part in this movie, Josiah. I swear to god if you light something on fire, I will end you—”
“I might be in love,” Josy said, staring in the mirror as he fixed the fedor
a on his head. “And I’m going to tell the object of my affection my intentions to ask him to be my boyfriend.”
Silence. Then, “Oh sweet Jesus.”
“Totally, right?”
“It’s that director, isn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The tweed coat fit just as well as it had when he’d bought it for ten dollars from a store that played music by a band he liked before they got popular, then stopped listening to, then started again once they didn’t sell as well on their second album. His was a complex life. “How’d you know?”
“Because of the heart eyes on every single picture I see of the two of you.”
“That obvious, huh?”
“Plain as day.” He heard her inhale on her cigarette. He felt a little ache in his chest. He missed her quite a lot. “Good for you, Josy. But if this gets in the way of the film and blows up in your face, I’m letting you go as a client.”
“No, you won’t.”
“No, I probably won’t,” she admitted. “I’ve got a feeling your star is on the rise. Roger Fuller’s been talking you up in certain circles. I’ve got some inquiries coming in about having you audition after the New Year.”
Josy blinked. “Really?”
“Really. I’m not going to say much more because I want you to focus on finishing up there. But we’ll talk when you get back. Most of it is crap, but there’s a couple of scripts that might work.”
“Whoa. That’s—”
“Neither here nor there right now. You’ve got a job to finish and apparently a man to nab. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have family to deal with. They told me they’re taking my phone away from me. I’m cutting them from my will, so I suppose we’re even. Don’t fuck this up.”
And then she hung up on him.
Josy adored her.
“WOW,” CASEY said as he entered the kitchen. It smelled of baked goods, and the counters were lined with trays of cookies and pies. “You look good, man. Cleaned up real nice.”
Josy fidgeted with the coat. “Yeah? It’s not too much?”
“Nope. I think it’s just right.”
“My socks have cartoon cats on them. I don’t know where I got them.”
Casey looked amused. “Gave those to you a couple of Christmases ago.”
“Oh. Well. Thank you for that.”
“Speaking of, you outta here after the movie, or you gonna stick around for Christmas?”
Josy shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m still paying for the apartment. Got four months left on the lease. Seems a waste not to. And my agent says she’s got some other stuff for me after this.”
“That’s great, dude. You’re going to be famous and shit.”
“Maybe. I don’t care about that a lot, though. At least not anymore. I just like acting. Being in front of the camera this last month has made me realize how much more I want it. Even if it’s just commercials again.”
Casey snorted. “You’re so weird. It’s awesome.”
“Thanks.” He reached for a cookie, only to have his hand slapped away. “Dude! Not cool!”
“Those have weed in them,” Casey said. “See the stickers on the plates? It’s to keep them separate from the regular batches. If today’s your big day, I think you should be sober.”
“You got stoned on your first date with Gustavo,” Josy reminded him. “Like, a lot.”
“Yeah, but that was because I was nervous.”
“I’m nervous too!”
Casey shrugged. “If that’s what you want. They’re not too strong, but it’s sativa, so it’ll amp you up a little bit. Lottie wants them as a sort of demonstration as to what she’ll serve once her license is approved.”
Josy thought hard. While he was nervous, he wasn’t the biggest fan of sativa. It was a euphoric head high. He preferred indica, which was a body-centered stoned effect. He got too rambly and touchy when he had sativa. He didn’t think that’d go over well. He did have a few joints left upstairs, but Casey had a point.
“Maybe you’re right,” he said begrudgingly.
Casey patted his hand. “There will be plenty left when it’s done.”
“Maybe I’ll be sad then. You know I don’t like being stoned when I’m sad. Makes it worse.”
Casey rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
“Really? That’s—”
“What are you worried about?”
Josy whirled around.
There, standing in the doorway, was Quincy.
And he was wearing a tie. With rabbits on it.
And that did things for Josy.
“Holy guacamole,” Josy breathed.
Quincy frowned. “What?”
Josy shook his head. “Nothing! Absolutely nothing at all. You look… nice. Like, so nice.”
Quincy blushed and looked down at the floor. “Thanks. I like your hat.”
“It’s a fedora,” Josy blurted. “I bought it at a swap meet for six dollars. The guy who sold it to me said it was worn by a gangster in the 1920s, but he was lying because there’s a tag inside that says it was made in China in 2007.”
“Oh. That’s… something.”
“Yeah,” Josy said, nodding furiously. “So cool. Like you. You might even be the coolest person I know. And I know lots of cool people.”
“I’m not that cool,” Quincy said, pulling at his tie like he was uncomfortable.
“Dear god,” Casey muttered. Then, “I need to go get changed before Gustavo gets here. Can you start packing these cookies up for me? The Tupperware has matching stickers on it so you know what goes where. Don’t mix them up, okay?”
“Sure,” Josy said, not looking away from Quincy. “You got it. Pack the stickers with cookie Tupperware.”
Casey sighed. “Maybe just hold off until I get back.” He squeezed Quincy’s arm as he left the kitchen.
They were alone.
Was this it? Was this the perfect moment?
He opened his mouth to say something about how they should probably spend the rest of their lives together if that was all right with Quincy, but his mouth had other ideas. “Where’s Roger and Dee?”
“With the We Three Queens. Bernice wanted to do his makeup, and Dee went with him because she was worried he would come to the festival looking like a clown.”
“That’s probably accurate,” Josy said. He didn’t know it was possible for thighs to sweat this much, but he was sure finding out now. “They like him. Dee too.”
“Yeah. They’re good people. Strange, but still good.”
Then came the awkward silence.
They shuffled their feet.
They glanced at each other and looked away.
Josy cleared his throat.
Quincy fiddled with his glasses and coughed.
Josy racked his brain for something to say. Anything. And it would be so goddamn easy, wouldn’t it? Just right now. No big declarations. Keep it simple.
But fuck, was he nervous.
Before he could do anything, Quincy’s phone beeped. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced down at it. “It’s Dee. Says Roger looks like a working girl. That’s… I don’t know what that means.”
“It’s probably okay. Maybe. Hopefully. Can you just… wait right here? I left my phone upstairs. I need to go grab it. Then maybe we can walk to No-Thanks Giving together?”
Quincy smiled. “I’d like that.”
Josy was relieved. “Me too.” He was about to hurry by Quincy when he stopped, kissed him on the cheek, and then fled the kitchen and practically ran upstairs.
He hadn’t planned that.
Holy crap.
Holy crap.
He smacked himself on the forehead as he reached the top of the stairs. “Come on, Josy. Man up. You can do this. Maybe next time don’t kiss him and run away. Jesus Christ.” He found his phone sitting on his bed where he’d left it. He pocketed it, gave himself a last once-over in the mirror, took a deep breath, and headed back downstairs.
Each step he took increased his resolve.
Keep it simple.
It didn’t have to be big.
It just had to be right.
And this was right.
He felt it down to his very bones.
He wanted to build Quincy blanket forts for a very long time to come.
That sounded good to him. Maybe he could say it just like that.
He entered the kitchen and said, “Quincy, there’s something I need you to know. I want to build blanket—oh no.”
Quincy stood next to the counter. In his hand was the last little bit of a cookie.
He chewed.
He swallowed.
“Sorry,” he said. He started to raise the last bite to his mouth. “I was hungry, and I didn’t think Casey would mind—what the fuck!”
Josy gave a hoarse battle cry as he charged toward Quincy. He managed to knock the remainder of the cookie out of his hand just in time. He gripped Quincy’s jaw as lightly as he could to open his mouth. There were bits of cookie on his teeth, but he was already too late.
“Did you eat the sticker cookies?” Josy demanded.
Quincy squinted at him. “I took one from the plate. Why? What’s wrong?”
“I know this is going to sound weird, but I need to stick my fingers in your mouth to make you throw up.”
“What?”
He pulled Quincy toward the sink. “I am going to stick my fingers in your mouth. I respect your autonomy so much. Like, you don’t even know, man. But you gotta throw up.”
Quincy pulled away. “I can’t.”
Josy blinked. “What?”
“I told you that before. I can’t throw up like that. I’ve never been able to! I don’t have a gag reflex.”
All of Josy’s synapses misfired with an audible pop. “Um. Whoa.”
Quincy flushed. “That’s not—I’m not trying to—why do I need to throw up?”
Josy’s brain was still in the process of rebooting. He didn’t know that a cute dude in a rabbit tie telling him he couldn’t throw up because he had no gag reflex was totally his jam until that very moment. “What.”
“Why do I need to throw up!”
