That wasn’t how this was supposed to go. “What? I told you where I was going.”
He looked terrible. “I know, but then I didn’t hear anything….”
“My phone works, and I’ve texted you nonstop since I got here. Texted and e-mailed. I’ve even sent you a postcard.” This couldn’t be good. I was suddenly terrified because Michael looked scared.
“My parents took my phone away.” He chewed on a fingernail.
“What? What’s been going on? How are you contacting me now?”
Michael hesitated. “It’s been horrible around here. Your parents seem to think I know where you are—”
“You do. If they paid attention to their credit card statements, they would, too, Mom especially. They’re her parents, after all.” And he hadn’t answered my question….
“But, Rem, they blame me for some reason, and Geoff’s frantic with worry.”
Welcome to the parental blame club. Sucks, doesn’t it? Jeez, I couldn’t let myself head down that road. “That’s crazy, Michael, bone-deep crazy, and why did your parents take your phone away?”
He closed his eyes, sighing. “They found out that we went to the prom together, and since they know you couldn’t have bought the tickets, I’m on restriction. So they took away my phone. My computer, too. They’ll have to give that back once school starts, but not until then. I’m actually using their computer right now.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond, in part because I’d thought that crashing the prom was a bad idea, but I couldn’t exactly say that. My guy was suffering, and crowing “I told you so” wasn’t my style.
Okay, it totally was, but not to Michael and not over something this serious. Definitely not when he appeared so beat-up by it.
Michael looked like he wanted to say something else but couldn’t. Like he was afraid to tell me. He closed his eyes for a moment. “They found my Truvada.”
Oh. Shit.
I hardly knew what to feel. Anger? Defeat? Hopelessness? Extreme hatred?
“Are they trying to break us up?” I’m not sure I wanted the answer, but I had to know.
“The only reason I’m able to contact you now is because there was some kind of accident at one of the dry-cleaning plants. Not one of the stores, but the plants. Is it horrible I’m happy about environmental degradation?” He wiped away a tear, and I’d never felt so helpless.
I touched the screen. What else could I do?
My guy needed ideas right now, so I thought hard and fast. “Okay, so here’s what we’ll do. First, Truvada works best when you take it every day, but I’m not there, so it’s not the end of the world. It’s not like we bareback anyway. When we hang up, see if you can find it and then contact Geoff. Explain what’s going on, and see if he’ll hold it for you until I get back. If all else fails, we’ll call Dr. Kravitz and get more when I return—”
“Rem! They flushed it.”
I swore. “Assholes. As far as Geoff goes, he knows my phone number—”
“Rem, has it never occurred to you that people are afraid of you? That Geoff’s afraid of you? Afraid of losing you?”
“Then maybe he should’ve kept his pie hole shut in the first place. He was dead wrong, and until he’s man enough to admit it, I have nothing to say to him. I’m not too dependent on you, and that’s a fact.” Damn. This whole thing pissed me off all over again. “When it comes down to it, everyone knows how to reach me, be it on the phone or via e-mail.”
“Even me?” he said in a small, quiet voice.
Was he crying? Fucking hell, he was. I promised to feed the rest of the Babcocks to the bottom-feeders at the port for this.
“Michael, I’m so sorry your parents are insane. I can’t believe they were in denial about us having an adult relationship and taking all appropriate steps to protect your health. Regardless of what lies they may have told you, that’s a sign of maturity on both our parts. Obviously I had no idea they’d taken your phone and your computer.” I hated to see him cry. Had I ever seen him cry? Damn. I was two thousand miles away, and there was nothing I could do about it but shake in impotent fury. “I’ll be home soon. Can you hang on? Will I even be allowed to see you when I get home?”
“I can always sneak out my bedroom window. They still haven’t figured that out.” He gave me a watery smile.
I thought for a moment. “If you can get out, I want you to go to the library and set up a free e-mail account. Then e-mail me the mailing address of a friend who can receive mail for you. Another thought, Casey and James both owe us big time. I’ll send you a burner phone.”
“Won’t that cost a lot?” Michael frowned. “I mean, I appreciate it and all—”
I cut him off. “Money’s not an issue, not with my grandparents, trust me. Besides, I didn’t say I was sending you a new iPhone, although I bet they’d pay for it.”
Michael stared at me. “You’re kidding.”
“You have no idea. None. It’s insane. I’ll tell you—and show you—when I get home.” I shook my head. “But that’s not the hot issue right now. I don’t know how long your parents will be gone, and I want you to meet my grandparents. Can you hang on a sec?”
Michael nodded, drying his eyes.
“Grandma! Grandpa!” I called, carrying my laptop out to the living room. “I made contact with Michael.”
After several minutes of squinting, Grandpa said, “I’m sorry, Michael, I simply can’t see on Jeremy’s laptop screen. It’s too small. I presume he has your contact information?”
“Yes, sir.” That was my boy, always polite.
“Then he’ll call you right back, dear,” my grandmother said. “Hang tight.”
Grandpa led us into his office, where not one but three studio displays waited. “I have no idea how to use that many screens,” I said. “What do you do with them?”
Grandma laughed. “Your grandfather never retired, dear. He’s up dark and early monitoring the markets and running circles around men not much older than you. He loves it.” She smiled fondly at her husband. “So… three screens, three huge screens.”
“They have to be that big at my age,” Grandpa said. “Your eyes are worthless after sixty, even with laser surgery.”
I still couldn’t believe my parents had deprived me of these warm, caring, and hilarious people for all these years. Then it hit me. Mom had done exactly what I was doing—cleaving to her man. I needed to talk to her without anyone else around. Was there some rule that the older you got, the more complicated everything grew?
So I called Michael back on Skype and made introductions.
“You don’t look any different,” Michael said.
I snorted. “You do. You’re about two feet tall. Grandpa’s got these enormous displays to keep track of I don’t know how many different markets.”
“Money can hold time at bay, but it will win in the end, boys. Always remember that,” Grandpa said. “Yes, money makes life very comfortable, but all it really is, is a convenient way to keep score. The only thing that matters is your family, your loved ones.”
I noticed a certain pain behind those words, and it made me wonder what it cost my grandparents to be semiestranged from my mother, their only child. I guess I could vow to reunite them, but from what Grandma said about knowing my serostatus, they maintained some sort of contact. Besides, my plate was full enough, and I couldn’t fix the world. Hell, I could barely keep myself out of trouble. Some things were above my pay grade, and one day I knew I’d have to accept that.
After Grandma and Grandpa visited with Michael for a few minutes, they left the two of us alone, but as Michael grew increasingly edgy about getting caught, I knew it was time to go.
“Remember: e-mail, address, and a burner phone.” I felt horrible, and I had to wonder, which had been worse—no contact or this?
Michael nodded. “I’ll start tomorrow.”
“And I’ll see what I can do about returning as soon as possible after New Year’s Eve.”
&nb
sp; “You’ll deal with your parents?”
“For you, Michael? Anything.” I meant it, too.
He looked so forlorn. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Yeah. Soon.”
The screen went dark. “Good-bye,” I whispered. “I love you.”
I pulled myself together. And went to face my grandparents. To thank them, really. I appreciated that they took the time to meet my boyfriend and that Grandpa allowed us to use the screens in his office. I had no idea how to turn them off.
“What’s wrong, Jeremy?” Grandpa said when I entered the living room. Guess I hadn’t pulled myself together as well as I’d thought.
I fought back more tears. “Michael’s very upset. He hasn’t replied to any of my attempts to contact him since I left, and now I know why. His parents took away his phone and impounded his computer. I’m actually kind of afraid for him.” I promised myself I wouldn’t break down, but right then I thought I might break that promise. Michael was the kindest, sweetest person I knew, and for his parents to treat him like this…. They were supposed to love him more than anyone else in the world, and that they’d treat him like a felon because of me made me feel lower than something I’d scrape off my shoe. “They’ve disapproved of our relationship, of me, since I started college, but this level of crazy is new. I don’t understand why they’re doing this to him now, of all times. It’s hard not to think this is aimed at me.”
Grandma patted the sofa next to me, and once I’d seated myself, pulled me into a hug. “That sounds very rough, dear.”
“I feel so powerless.” I sniffled. “I wonder what happened to the Michael who stood up for me, the Michael who protected me when I got so sick?”
I sounded like Geoff did when he grilled me after the Head of the Charles. I wanted to kick myself. Or choke on the irony. “I used to be so fierce, too.”
Grandpa gave me a look of purest sympathy. “Jeremy, you’re young. I know you’ve seen and done a lot, but you’re not even nineteen yet. You don’t have to answer every question. Sometimes observing a pattern is enough. Maybe the two of you aren’t fierce right now because you don’t have to be. I’ve seen a lot of anger in you, but unless you control it, direct it to a productive end, you’re nothing but a pissed-off teenager.”
Not even nineteen, yet. I could hear Paul Hardcastle’s “19” in my head. Mad and bewildered, yes, but at least I wasn’t lost in the jungles of Vietnam, just lost in the thickets of relationships—parents, Michael, friends, crew.
“Your grandfather’s right, dear. No one in the history of the world has ever taken an angry teenager seriously, but a young man with righteous arguments and a goal is something to be reckoned with. Maybe it’s time to start being fierce again, dear. For Michael, if not for yourself.”
“Let me put it to you this way, Jeremy, and this is something I’ve learned the hard way over decades. Success, however you define it, is a fairly simple thing. Figure out what you want. Determine what it’ll cost you.” Grandpa smiled at me. “Then pay the price.”
I jumped when Grandpa pronounced his steps to success so emphatically, but I found myself nodding. They were right. I’d already spent too much time allowing my parents to call the tune and picking the dance for me. Hell, my presence at CalPac was Exhibit A. Maybe that wasn’t the best example, after all. I liked CalPac and no longer wanted to transfer, opening an entirely new can of worms. But my grandparents were right. People took one look at angry teens and wrote them off as pouting hormone cases. As it was, even young adults with well-reasoned arguments stood decent chances of dismissal due to age alone. And I was angry. I could stay angry—at my parents, at my brother, at Michael’s parents—or I could grow up and use that anger, that passion, to fuel my plans forward. I could also use that anger to benefit Michael and myself. As Grandpa said, the steps to success weren’t all that profound. That didn’t mean they were easy, but that they weren’t a secret.
“I’m going to have to think about how best to help Michael, because righteous arguments or not, I’m eighteen, and he’s still a minor. But your steps to success?” I nodded my understanding. “I think I’ve been using them in crew without even knowing it.”
Grandpa smiled. “It wouldn’t surprise me. It’s pretty simple. Never easy, but simple.”
“I’ve willingly paid the price for years, but the next step? That’s a whole new price altogether, and I admit it scares me. What if I fail?” It was the first time I had ever contemplated failing in crew, but it was bound to happen sooner or later.
“But, my dear, what if you fly?” Grandma said.
I couldn’t answer that one. I would only fly by dint of excruciatingly hard work, harder than any I’d known before. But then, couldn’t I say that about every goal in crew up to this point? I’d spent the summer before my first trip to the Youth Nationals sculling many hours per day, sculling until my hands looked like hamburger from gripping the oar handles tighter than I should’ve and by putting in more time on the ergs than was perhaps healthy. My caloric intake had skyrocketed, and if I hadn’t gotten so sick with what turned out to be HIV that following fall, I would’ve been in danger of gaining a ton of weight.
I nodded to acknowledge her point. “I also have to talk my parents into paying for it, and right now I’m not speaking to them,” I said without considering the implications or the audience. My mind and attention were two thousand miles away in Davis.
Grandpa waved a dismissive hand, but that was easy for him to do. He was richer than God. “Stuff and nonsense. You let us worry about that. We’re your grandparents. Spoiling you is what we live for, and we haven’t been allowed to do it for far too long. We’ve got years of pent-up spoiling to do.”
That brought my attention back to the here and now. I wanted to smack a hand across my mouth, but barn door? Horses? “More bragging rights?”
“Well, there is that, too, dear.” Grandma smiled.
My jaw hung open. “You can’t be serious. It’s… it’s too much.”
I couldn’t understand how they kept score. Right when I thought I had it figured out, they introduced some new wrinkle to throw me for a loop.
“Why don’t you let us worry about that, dear? How much will you need?”
I felt kind of stupid. “I don’t actually know.”
Grandpa patted my hand. “Why don’t I talk to your coach? That’ll make things easier. You can name your boat after us or something.”
“This is a joke. You’re kidding, right?”
Grandpa’s eyes held a twinkle. “Am I?”
He laughed, and I laughed, too, but what if he wasn’t kidding?
Chapter 18
I CALLED the airline and set my ticket to fly back to Sacramento and Michael on January 2. Grandma and Grandpa had been so kind and generous to me that I could hardly deny them the opportunity to use me in their games with their friends on New Year’s Eve. Now that I knew that there was a game afoot, I played along a little better. Sure, earlier it bugged me, but I understood it more, now. It made me uncomfortable, but it was something I could do in return for all they had done and would do for me. Besides, it gave me a chance to hang out with Lance and Caden one last time.
“So d’you ever find out what was up with your guy?” Caden said, sucking up a tropical drink through a straw.
“Yeah. His parents put him on some kind of lockdown.” I glared out at the party.
Lance made a face. “Shit. What’re you going to do?”
“Fly home the day after tomorrow and see what I can do to help him. He’s been strong for me in the past. It’s my turn.” It was true. I needed to deal with the situation at my parents’ house first, but then I planned to challenge the Castelreighs.
“Awww, you’ll ride to his rescue.” Caden punched my arm in what I assumed was intended to be some sort of bluff camaraderie but in fact almost knocked me off my feet.
“How many of those have you had?” I rubbed my arm.
“Six. Why?”
“Next time, use a pile driver. They’re gentler.”
Lance looked seriously put out. “You’re leaving already? That sucks.”
“I left a real mess behind with my family, and as Caden so colorfully put it, or would’ve had he retained his higher brain functions, I need to ride to Michael’s rescue, his knight in shining armor on a white steed.” I thought about it. “Or in this case, me in a white Civic, but whatever.”
“We were just getting to know you,” Lance said.
Caden nodded. “I’m sure I could’ve talked your pants off if you’d been here another week or so.”
“Bored them off, more likely.” Lance made a face.
I shook my head. They had no idea how deep my devotion to Michael ran. “No offence to either of you, but if you two and Michael and I were the last four gay men on earth, you two would bang each other or die due to terminal semen poisoning.”
Lance and Caden looked at each other in horror that was only partially faked, then looked at me and gasped.
“You…”
“…bitch.”
Yep, they’d marry one day, I was sure of it. “Be sure to invite me to your wedding, boys.”
They gaped, their mouths moving like koi. Lord love a duck, this was better than television. Of course, that was a low bar to reach.
I winked at them and went in search of something to eat. Glancing over my shoulder, I noticed that they trailed along behind me. I guess the last few minutes never happened?
“Seriously, we’re going to miss you,” Lance said.
I looked around. “You, who? All my fans and admirers? You guys have been great. These parties would’ve been deadly dull without you, and I’m very grateful you came up and pulled me out of my shell.”
Caden giggled. “Remy on the half-shell. Remy the cracked crab. Remy the—”
“We get it.” I put my hand over his mouth.
Caden licked it.
“You’re kind of disgusting.” I wiped my hand on his lapels. “Strangely lovable, but disgusting.”
“You think I’m lovable?” Caden grinned.
All That Is Solid Melts Into Air Page 18
