“My boyfriend.”
“That figures.” His words sounded grumbly, but he really didn’t look that put out. But alas, that only seemed to pique his interest further. “So where is he tonight?”
“Home, unfortunately.” I didn’t feel like talking about this, and Lance’s Torquemada act only made me want to brick his mouth up with my fist.
Lance looked up at me. “You’re a talkative one.”
“For fuck’s sake, what do you want from me? I’ve been dragged to a party full of people I don’t know by my social-climbing grandparents who’ve packaged me for display and whose sole interest in me appears to be in using me for advancement. This whole thing is so far from suave that the light from suave will never reach it. Meanwhile, my boyfriend won’t reply to my texts or phone calls.”
Lance only smiled more broadly as I lashed out.
“And you just sit there and grin like an idiot. What is your problem?”
“Because this is the most emotion you’ve shown since I first set eyes on you. I was beginning to think you were carved from marble. But, dude, what do you think I’m doing here? What do you think all of us are doing here?” He indicated a knot of other people our age. “My parents trot me out like a well-trained dog any chance they get. It’s the same for all of us, which is why I came over here to get you. That’s why I try to hide at school as much as I can.”
“At least now I know the score.”
Lance laughed. “You just figured it out?”
“Makes me sound kind of thick, doesn’t it?” I grinned sheepishly.
“Kind of, yes. At least you look good in your tux.”
I scratched behind my neck, a new nervous gesture. “It’s hard not to look good in a monkey suit.”
“Sure, sweetheart. Easy for you to say.”
Lance turned out to be a funny, even sidesplitting, guide to the evening. A steady stream of trenchant commentary issued from his mouth as he cut this segment of society down to size. He left no one unskewered, not even my grandparents.
“That’s kind of what I thought. They pumped me for information on the way over here, you know. If it had gone on any longer, I fully expected to start spitting out water.”
Lance snorted. “That’s hilarious.”
“And yet kind of sad,” I said.
“Now come meet the others. They’ll wonder why I haven’t brought you back.” Lance pulled on my arm until I stopped digging in my heels.
He introduced me to… well, if they weren’t his friends, at least they were people with whom he was acquainted from parties such as this one. I recognized some faces, but not too terribly many.
“Everyone, this is Remy. Remy, this is… everyone.” Lance gestured expansively. A few people waved, more nodded, hardly the most rousing of welcomes, but then, we all knew the score. We were temporary ports in the social storm. Lance seemed genuine enough, but none of us would see one another after the holidays, and we all knew it.
Small talk ensued, and I actually had that glass of champagne my grandparents allowed. Much of the talk turned on comparing abbreviated biographies and humorous stories from school. Brady proved to be a rich source, and I showed no hesitation in mocking him. Well, him and that absurd prom.
“So wait,” someone said, “your boyfriend stood there and watched them?”
I nodded. “It annoyed me at the time, but now it’s kind of funny.”
“Sounds hot to me,” Lance added.
“That was Michael’s response. Later.” I smiled a Mona Lisa smile.
“Yeah? So’d you get lucky?” Lance said.
I looked at him over the top of my glasses. “A gentleman doesn’t tell tales out of school.”
That certainly got a rise out of people. A few people looked bothered by the fact that I was gay, but I could not possibly have cared less. But… Michael. I sighed, and the conversation swirled elsewhere. I checked my phone without bothering to be subtle.
Lance looked over my shoulder. “No reply?”
“No, not that I expected any.” I sighed.
“Trouble in paradise?” He looked genuinely concerned and not like a circling vulture.
I shrugged. “Our parents seem to be having issues, but we’re fine. I’m not sure what’s up with not returning texts. For all I know, he dropped his phone.”
“Okay, I’m going to ask the obvious question, but why not call his landline? You’d have the answer to the dropped phone hypothesis and get over all this tiresome mooning around,” Lance said. “For a guy who seems pretty sharp, I’m surprised you haven’t thought of this.”
“Because his parents don’t like me?” I hated saying that out loud.
“So is that a question or a statement?” someone else said. “Because if you’re suddenly on the market, I’m in line.”
Lance feigned outrage. “Dibs! I found him first.”
“Yeah, hi. Right here. I can hear you talking.”
“Good. It means we won’t have to track you down. I’m Caden, by the way.” Mr. In Line extended his hand.
I shook it. “Remy.”
“I was kidding, you know. But… are you?” Caden grinned.
“No,” I said, my voice as final as the guillotine’s blade. Seriously, what was with these people? I’d been in bars less cruisy. “Do you people not get sex at school?”
The thundering chorus of “No!” almost deafened me.
“Then you’re doing something wrong.” I shook my head.
“Fuck you,” Caden said cheerfully. “My girlfriend won’t give it up like she should.”
I stared at him.
“What? Don’t be biphobic. I’m an equal-opportunity slut.”
Caden was so honest about it I could only laugh. I felt bad for his girlfriend, though.
“You’re a bad man, Caden” was all Lance said.
“Yeah, but you love me anyway.” Caden batted his eyelashes.
Lance grimaced. “Love is a strong word.”
I gratefully let the conversation fall away from me, content to retreat into my own thoughts. I’d finally realized the source of the melancholy I’d felt all night. I’d only been separated from Michael for a couple of days, but I hadn’t heard from him, and that was unusual. No returned texts, no calls, not even an e-mail or chat, and I missed him terribly. And poof! What remained of the magic disappeared from the evening. The sparkle turned back into tinsel, which was frankly on the tacky side if you looked at it too long, and the fairy lights were nothing but Christmas lights available three packs for ten dollars at any garden center. I was done with the evening. I had only to fake it until my grandparents were ready to be poured into the hired car.
As it turned out, Lance and Caden soon noticed my mental departure.
“I’ve got… uh, a little something to make the night pass better.” Caden opened his coat to show a couple of joints in a sandwich baggie.
“That’s not really part of my training plan.”
Caden looked me up and down. “Triathlons?”
“Crew.” I blushed hard. Really, any other tell, please.
Lance snorted. “Dude, at my school half the rowing team blazes up any chance they get. The other half drinks like fish.”
“They don’t row on my level.” I refused to get into this.
“Whoa oh oh! Listen to you,” Caden said.
I shrugged. “They don’t. It’s a statement of fact. I made varsity as a freshman. I have to decide when I get back to school whether or not to train for a spot on the Under 23 National Team in order to compete at the Worlds next summer. So… not a part of my training plan.” I smiled to take a bit of the sting out of it. “There’s not a whole lot that is.”
“I can see that.” Then Lance thought for a moment. “What’s your boyfriend get out of this?”
I smirked. If they were going to rag me for not using, I might as well rub in the fact they weren’t getting anywhere near me undressed. “My body.”
“Yeah,” Caden said, “but ar
en’t you too tired to do anything with it?”
“That’d be for us to know and you not to find out, right?” I winked.
His smile fell. “I don’t even get to watch, do I?”
I cocked one eyebrow at him as I revealed my collar. “Sir doesn’t share.”
Both Caden’s and Lance’s jaws dropped. I already loved doing that to people.
“You mean you—”
“A gentleman doesn’t tell tales out of school, remember?” That Mona Lisa smile again.
“That is so unfair,” Lance said.
I winced. “The pouting. It’s not attractive.”
“He’s right about that,” Caden said. “It’ll give you wrinkles.
Lance pulled out his phone. “You two. Such bitches. Give me your digits. I want to keep in touch.”
I laughed and complied. So did Caden.
“Since this is as close to a three-way we’ll ever get with the Boy Scout here,” Caden said.
Thanks to those guys, I ended up having a good time, or at least a better time than I thought I would after my grandparents demanded information about me. But I still missed Michael, and not hearing anything from him still bothered me. I made sure I didn’t pine visibly after that.
Chapter 17
THE NEXT day started the next afternoon. Mine started late morning with a workout in the building’s gym, blessedly free of the Spotter. I might possibly have teased Caden and Lance with a workout selfie. All in all, I found the day quiet and peaceful. My grandparents didn’t surface until close to dinner, which I took charge of. The only text to violate my phone, however, was the outraged ones I received from Caden and Lance after dinner. Those consisted of one word each: “bastard” and “asshole.”
I hated to think I’d grown accustomed to Michael’s silence, so I distracted myself by writing a postcard. I didn’t entrust too much to what was basically a public advertisement that I possessed the leisure and money to travel. I put a bit more thought into it than “The weather’s frigid, wish you were here” but not much more.
Lance, Caden, and I traded party schedules after dinner and usually managed to find each other at subsequent affairs. They helped to pass the time until Christmas. We even met for lunch and shopping a couple of times. It gave me a chance to find presents for my grandparents.
“No word yet?” Caden said over lunch.
I shook my head. “I keep texting and e-mailing like normal, but it’s scaring me.”
“Dude.” Lance sighed. “You’ve got to grow a pair and call him on a landline. So what if it’s old school or you end up talking to his big bad parents?”
“Lance is right. If he’s the stand-up guy you say he is, something’s wrong. There’s no way he’d dump you with a fade-out. That’s what I’d do, and I’m a douche,” Caden said. “Your Sir wouldn’t do that. Damn. Do you really call him that?”
My eyes twinkled. “I don’t know. Do I?”
They both looked hungry for a moment before they covered it up. Were we all subby bottoms who wanted it to hurt? I laughed. “No, but think how much fun you’ve had with that.”
Lance threw his crumpled-up napkin at me. “Rude.”
But Caden stared at me. “There’s something he’s not telling us, Lance.”
“Maybe.” I smiled demurely.
“Don’t make me tickle you,” Caden said.
I rolled my eyes. “I can outrun you both.”
“You can’t outrun your feelings, and right now you’re feeling pretty low where your guy’s concerned.” Lance’s arrow hit me right where it hurt, too.
“I’ll call, I promise. Now can we please get this conversation off of my failings and onto some of yours?” I glared at Caden. “So. You’re a two-timing douche, you say?”
Lance laughed. “Yeah, tell us about that. Why do I get the sense you’re in a frat, too?”
“They kicked me out after I boned the president’s girlfriend.” Caden paused to make sure he had our attention. “And his little brother.”
“I suddenly have the idea you don’t mean in the frat buddy-system sense, either.” Lance met my eyes and shook his head. I couldn’t tell if he found it hilarious or if it made him jealous. Interesting.
CHRISTMAS DAY passed quietly. I’d assumed that all that shopping would be my gift, but I had assumed wrong.
What had Grandma done, nipped off to the Apple Store while Sylvia had me trapped with the tailor altering my tux? “Here’s my credit card. I’ll take one of everything for my grandson.” Because that’s what it looked like. New laptops (regular and Air), new iPhone, a couple of new iPads? Check.
I’d already learned the futility of arguing with my grandparents, so there was no point in that, but there was no way I could accept all of this. Maybe Michael or Geoff needed something? I was worried about Michael and pissed at my brother, but I knew neither state would last forever.
Fortunately I’d managed to slip a few things for my grandparents into my suitcase before I’d left Sacramento, and again after various shopping expeditions in Chicago. At least when I wasn’t limited by my own lack of money, I liked to buy art or small antiques for gifts. They were difficult to return. So thanks, Mom and Dad! You’re the ones who taught me that trick. I’m not speaking to you, but Grandma and Grandpa loved that Hiroshige print I found on the Miracle Mile and that lithograph I brought with me from Sacramento. The best part was, no one in their circle had anything like it, and I think that’s what mattered at that point in their lives. They could buy anything they wanted, but one-upping their friends? That was the key.
Likewise that small mirror from the antique store? Couldn’t forget that. It didn’t cost a whole lot, relatively speaking, but it predated the transcontinental railroad, according to the antiques dealer I bought it off of before I left school. That meant it reached California the hard way, by sailing around the horn to get to San Francisco. There was even faint writing in different hands stating the names of different owners and dates, so I believed her. I added my own name and the date before I passed it on to my grandparents.
Once I figured that out, I felt better about the parties and being squeezed for information. Material things meant little since Grandma and Grandpa bought whatever they needed, but conversation pieces and petty triumphs over their friends? Worth more than gold and gems. Apparently that counted as currency in their circles.
As I put the finishing touches on brunch, Grandma said, “So tell us about this boyfriend of yours, dear.”
Were they genuinely interested, or was this one more piece in what for all I knew was an endless game between them and their friends? That I understood their game didn’t necessarily mean I was ready to convert all of my life to game chips.
“He’s a prince, but his parents are another matter.”
“They’re not homophobic, are they?” Grandpa glared at me, but I knew it was directed at the Castelreighs.
I thought about that for a moment. The fact that they didn’t like a particular gay man didn’t necessarily follow that they were homophobic per se. “I’m not sure, to be honest. They used to be much more supportive of our relationship, and I don’t know what’s changed.”
Grandpa frowned. “What about your condition? Are they upset by it? Is he upset by it?”
“I really don’t know what to say about Michael’s parents.” I opened my shirt collar and showed them the leathern collar Michael gave me. “Do you know what this plus sign means?”
“We do, dear. Your mother told us about your… troubles.”
That wasn’t what I’d expected to hear, and for a bunch of reasons. I’d never had the least idea Mom kept in touch with her parents, for one thing. “Does… does it bother you?”
“It certainly wouldn’t have been our first choice for you, Liebling.” Grandpa sighed. “But listen, we’re modern. We get it. It’s a condition, not the wrath of God. You look healthy. You’d have to be to do what you do in those boats.”
“True fact. I admit, it’s a balanc
ing act, and one of the things that worries me about training on the level I’ll need to for the national team is whether I can maintain the balance. It’s something I’ll need to talk to my doctor about before I commit.” I thought for a moment. “From what I’ve read online, there’s been at least one Olympic gold medal winner who’s been poz, so it should be possible to train at the levels needed without compromising my health, and crew’s a noncontact sport, so I don’t have to worry about putting my fellow athletes in danger, either.”
I practically saw Grandma relax before my eyes. “That’s been our biggest worry, dear. That you’d overexert yourself and get sick again. The fact that you’re aware of the possibility is very reassuring.”
“I have to be, don’t I?”
“Actually, you don’t.” Grandpa gave me a very direct look. “There seem to be a great many people who move through this world heedless of their own safety and that of others, and I’m not talking about the apparently large numbers of men your age who don’t know their own HIV status, or at least not solely.”
I thought about that for a while. “The summer before my senior year was a rough one. I grew up very quickly.”
“We can tell, dear. More espresso?”
I laughed at that. Espresso appeared to be Grandma’s solution to everything, and I had grown addicted in the short time I’d stayed with them. “Yes, but please teach me how to make it. I’ll be sunk when I return home if I don’t learn. I can already tell I’ll need to buy my own machine and grinder.”
“Good luck,” Grandpa said. “I’ve been trying for years, but no one makes it like your grandmother.”
“I’ll settle for even minimal competency,” I said as I followed Grandma to the kitchen, our conversation about Michael set aside for the time being. Set aside, but not forgotten.
AS I checked my e-mail later that evening, the Skype icon started jumping up and down on the dock. I clicked it, and up popped Michael.
“Oh thank God.” I practically sobbed. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you. Where’ve you been?”
“Where have I—?” Michael all but yelled back.
All That Is Solid Melts Into Air Page 17
