by J P Barnaby
“Whatever,” Anthony said, but with Allen, he didn’t use the same sulky tone he’d had with Aaron. It sounded more like “Whatever you want” than “What fucking ever,” which is what Aaron usually got.
“Yeah, Mom, we’ll take care of things. You take care of Grandma,” Aaron confirmed, squeezing his mother’s fingers gently.
“I’m not deserting you,” she said with a shaky laugh. “But the help is appreciated.” The laugh seemed to help, because no more tears fell.
“I’ll call my counselor at Purdue and see what I can do about putting it off—” Allen started, but his mother cut him off abruptly.
“You will not. You have a scholarship to maintain, and your brothers are perfectly capable of looking after themselves. Aaron is an adult, and Anthony will have your father and Aaron looking out for him. It’s time you lived your life for you, baby.”
Allen swallowed hard but nodded. Aaron had a feeling they would have a conversation about it later when they were alone, after he and Anthony had gone to do other things, but for right then, he didn’t argue.
They stayed at the table for a few more minutes, talking about nothing, until Anthony pushed his chair out and stood.
“I’m going to go get my stuff together. I’m staying at Shane’s tonight.”
They watched him turn away from the table and head for the stairs. His mother sighed quietly but didn’t say anything as her youngest son wandered farther and farther away from them all.
Five
“HEY, ALLEN, could you hand me the pizzas? I need to get them in the oven. It’s almost preheated,” Aaron said as he checked the clock for the hundredth time. It would be the first meal he’d ever made his family, and even Spencer would be there soon to enjoy it with them. Allen opened the plastic and set pizzas on baking sheets before handing them to Aaron, who set them gently on the rack in the oven. It was all about teamwork.
Well, sort of. Anthony had yet to put in an appearance. Usually he left for Shane’s around midday and didn’t come back until about fifteen minutes after his curfew. Aaron had heard his parents talking about it at night after everyone went to bed. They didn’t like his behavior but decided to wait before talking to him. At least he was going out and appeared to be more social than he had been in the last year.
Aaron pulled a salad out of the fridge, made by their mother out of guilt before she left them to their own devices. The cruet of Italian dressing he’d mixed carefully according to the package instructions went to the table next. Grabbing plates from the cabinets, Allen set the table without being asked. Aaron decided they worked well together, after having ordered out the last three nights. Their father had no issue providing a credit card if it meant he got to eat dinner without either doing the cooking himself or bothering his wife. But when she threatened to stay home and cook and let her mother order Chinese instead, Aaron stepped up and had a ten-minute conversation with her about the things he could make. He’d even taken a snapshot with his phone and texted it to her so she’d know the house was actually still standing.
The doorbell rang, and Allen glanced at Aaron briefly before going to answer it. After a few minutes, he heard Allen and Spencer talking. Allen, after about six months of shouting, had finally figured out to talk to Spencer in a normal voice. They got closer, and then he felt Spencer’s arms snake around his waist. Since he’d been listening for them, expecting Spencer’s touch, it didn’t bother him. In fact, he put his hand over Spencer’s as they rested on his stomach.
“Hi.,” Spencer said softly against his cheek. Rather than say hi back because Spencer couldn’t see his lips, Aaron set the timer on his phone and waved. Spencer kissed him lightly on the neck, just behind his ear, and he shivered. Then Spencer let go and moved over to the refrigerator, where he grabbed a soda.
“Do. You. Need. Any. Help.?” he asked after a while, but Aaron assured him that everything was under control. He checked the timer and then grabbed oven mitts and pulled the pizzas from the oven. After transferring them to platters, he set them on the counter to cool a bit. He handed the salad bowl to Spencer, who took it to the dining room without comment. The pizzas were next, and then finally, they sat down at the table to eat together, minus their mother and youngest brother. They’d always eaten dinner together every night, and Aaron found that he missed the banter.
After dinner, Allen and his father offered to clean the kitchen since Aaron had cooked. Aaron took the opportunity to grab Spencer and escape to his room. He wanted to talk to his boyfriend about running out. God, his face still burned with embarrassment thinking about Dr. Thomas finding them practically fucking on the couch. He’d written about it in his therapy blog but wasn’t sure how he’d face his therapist for their next session. Thankfully it wasn’t for another week. Aaron had been down to biweekly sessions for a while now.
“I am sorry I left without saying good-bye on Saturday. I was—” Aaron started, but Spencer grabbed his hands and kissed the tips of his fingers.
“I. Understand… I. Was. Upset. With. My. Dad. When. You. Left….” Spencer took Aaron’s face in his hands and pressed a gentle kiss against his lips. “You. Had. Every. Right. To. Be. Upset., But. Actually. I. Think. I. Have. A. Solution. For. That….”
“What do you mean?” Aaron could hear the wariness in his voice, even if Spencer couldn’t. What kind of solution would keep Spencer’s dad, or anyone else, from seeing him with his pants around his ankles? Just the memory of it made him shudder. Someone, someone other than Spencer, had seen him naked. He felt violated all over again.
“I got an e-mail from this company that wants to buy our software, and they offered us both jobs. Did you get an e-mail like that?” Spencer asked, his animated signs flying so fast, Aaron had to work to catch what they said. The bright light of excitement shone from Spencer’s pretty hazel eyes, making them gleam. It wasn’t something Aaron saw often anymore. Then his brain caught up with his ears.
“Yes, I got an e-mail like that. I deleted it.”
“I got a confirmation e-mail yesterday with a contract. They want to pay us three hundred and fifty thousand dollars each for the source code. Do you believe it? Seven hundred thousand dollars for software we wrote.”
Aaron couldn’t believe it, actually. He’d never done anything on that scale before, anything productive. For a long moment, he looked into Spencer’s face and wanted to ask if it was a joke. Three hundred and fifty grand, just for writing code? He was speechless.
“There is more,” Spencer continued, almost brutal in his quest to steal Aaron’s sanity. “I know you probably are not ready for it yet, but they offered us both jobs at their company. Technical lead positions over our own code at seventy-five thousand a year. So, we have a few decisions to make. Do we want to sell our code, and if so, do we want to work for the company who buys it?”
“Do I have to?” Aaron had trouble getting air into his lungs because it felt like he was choking. The pizza threatened to make a spectacular reappearance all over his freshly made bed, but he managed to hold it back because Spencer shook his head.
“No, only one of us has to work for them in order for them to buy the software.”
“Do you want to work for them? I thought you wanted to finish your degree? Will you be able to do that and work?” Aaron asked one signed question after another, his heart hammering. He could hear his pulse slamming in his ears and wondered dully if their conversation would end in him having a panic attack. He still had a few more antianxiety pills in his drawer. Maybe he should take one so they could finish the conversation without him freaking completely out.
“I do want to work for them. It sounds like a great job, and the money would be great for both of us. It would help me get started in a new apartment, and you are always talking about how you want to be less dependent on your parents.”
One word from Spencer’s answer rattled around Aaron’s brain like shrapnel. Apartment.
“You would have to move?”
“Y
es, if I took the job, the office is in Chicago. It is over an hour and a half commute each way. Eric said they would help hook me up with an apartment near the Red Line. I could take it to work.” Spencer avoided his eyes, and Aaron could tell he’d already decided. He planned to take the job no matter what Aaron said. Aaron stood up and went over to the window, staring out over the backyard. Allen sat on the deck with a book he didn’t appear to be reading. Beyond the deck was the patch of grass where he, Allen, and Anthony used to kick the ball around before the shadow in their lives grew to cover the world in darkness. For the last five years, life had been stagnant in their house, and lately everything had changed. He rarely saw his mother, who had always been a constant in his day. Allen would be leaving for college in a few weeks, and Anthony had become a stranger to them all. Even Spencer, his rock and his soul, wanted to abandon him. The harsh sound coming from his throat was more like choking than a sob. When he wrapped his arms around his middle to stop everything from flying apart, other arms wrapped themselves around him too, and Spencer’s lips were at his ear.
“I. Will. Not. Take. The. Job… Not. If. It. Hurts. You. Like. This… I. Will. E-mail. Him. Right. Now….” Spencer’s voice shook, and he held Aaron so tightly that Aaron thought maybe he’d never be able to breathe again. They stood there like that for a long time, and Aaron never turned from the window. He couldn’t face Spencer, couldn’t let Spencer see his weakness. Twenty-one years old and he fell apart at the thought of his boyfriend moving an hour away to pursue his dream. Even though he needed Spencer like he’d never needed anything, he couldn’t make himself be that selfish. It took a while for him to cry himself out, but finally he turned in Spencer’s arms. Pressing his palm against Spencer’s cheek, he felt the warmth of his boyfriend’s love and spoke the hardest words he’d ever had to say.
“Take the job.”
Spencer closed his eyes against the weight of Aaron’s pain. He saw the effort it took for Aaron to say those three little words in the lines on his face and the darkness in his eyes. If Spencer didn’t take the job, Aaron would be out the money too. As he held Aaron, next to the window overlooking their suburban lawn, his eyes were drawn to the soccer trophies and debate ribbons on the wall, illuminated by the setting sun. Something had to change. It had been almost five years since Aaron’s attack, and he continued to languish in this half life, not really living. Even with therapy and Spencer, he still didn’t go out or do anything other than school. He needed friends and the will to just go to the mall or a movie. In that moment, Spencer made his decision.
“Okay., But. I. Will. Come. Home. As. Often. As. I. Can. To. See. You… I. Will. Be. Here. A. Couple. Of. Weekends. Every. Month… When. You. Are. Ready., You. Can. Also. Come. Up. And. Stay. With. Me. For. As. Long. As. You. Want….” Spencer whispered against Aaron’s ear as he held him. Aaron didn’t move or try to say anything else for a while. He simply stood in Spencer’s arms. After several long, tense minutes, he pulled back, his eyes red and swollen.
“I can’t do this without you. You’ll come back, right?”
“All. The. Time….”
“Send the contract to my dad to look over. If he says it’s okay, I’ll sign it and take the money. We can always….”
“We. Can. Always. What.?”
“I was going to say, we can always write something else, but if you’re working all the time and so far away, maybe we can’t.” Aaron shrugged and looked away.
Spencer tilted Aaron’s chin back so they were looking at each other, his heart breaking at the fear and hurt in his eyes.
“You. Will. Always. Be. My. Priority….”
After another hour of reassurances, Spencer got Mr. Downing’s e-mail address and forwarded the e-mail with the contract for him to look over. It hadn’t even occurred to him to have a lawyer look over the contract. Thank God Aaron thought ahead more than he did. Guilt warred with happiness in his stomach as he drove home. Aaron had given him permission, his blessing even, to take the job. He’d even asked Spencer to e-mail Eric while he stood in Spencer’s arms, but the mechanical, lifeless way he signed it tore at Spencer. Nothing would ever be the same between them again. But Spencer couldn’t deny his excitement at the thought of having his own place, a job, and a future when he’d been such an outcast his entire life. Eric had accepted him without a second thought.
His phone buzzed, so at the next light, he checked it—an e-mail from Nell congratulating him on the job and one from Eric with his start date. The light changed before he could reply, and he turned the decision over and over in his head as he wound through the streets on autopilot. Aaron’s tearstained face next to an apartment overlooking the city. Aaron’s pain against a steady paycheck so he didn’t have to leech off his father. Aaron’s fear against the possibility of having friends again. When he pulled into the driveway, his hands shook as he confirmed with Eric Stancel.
Six
THE COVERS were pulled up over Aaron’s head, cocooning him from the anger and loss. He’d already taken one of the tranquilizers from his drawer, noticing there were fewer than there should be. His mom must be hiding them from him, but right then, he didn’t care. Spencer was leaving him today, moving two hours away to escape from him because he couldn’t deal with Aaron’s problems. Half the time, Aaron couldn’t deal with them either, only he couldn’t get away from them. It wouldn’t take long before Spencer figured out that having real friends and maybe a real boyfriend he could fuck would be better than being with Aaron. The drugs dulled the slow, steady ripping of his heart to shreds, making it almost bearable.
His memory of watching Spencer packing was crystal clear, even through the haze of a chemical-induced coma. The joy he tried to hide as he unhooked the gaming system from the television, the small smiles as he picked through what books to take and what books to leave, his excitement as he picked out furniture online to have delivered to the new abstract apartment Aaron had never seen. Oh, Spencer had shown him the layout on a diagram he’d gotten from the apartment manager. He’d shown Aaron pictures of the building and the pretty little courtyard. Spencer could even get a dog. The awesome life Spencer had always wanted, just laid out at his feet. He would never come back.
The helpless, panicky feeling tried to return, but the drugs kept it at bay. He’d nearly lost his shit when Spencer shopped for pots and pans online because Aaron refused to go to Target with him to pick stuff out. No way would he help Spencer leave him. The money they’d received from Spencer’s new employer helped pave the way for a fast move. He hired guys to move his desk, boxes of clothes, books, and electronics up to the other side of the city. He decided to buy new bedroom furniture so he could leave his childhood stuff at his dad’s, presumably for when he came back. The movers had taken everything else the day before. The only thing they hadn’t taken was Spencer. He spent his last night in his father’s house in Aaron’s arms, probably their last night together. And now he was gone.
Light, a sliver at first, widened slowly on the wall in front of his face.
“Aaron?”
His mother’s voice pushed through the fog in his head just enough so that he recognized the softness in it, the pity. God, he was so fucking sick of people feeling sorry for him, sick of being poor little Aaron Downing. He’d lost Spencer because of it, and now he was alone again.
He didn’t answer, choosing instead to stare at the wall in great contemplation of its bumpy texture and the shadows playing across its surface. They got bigger as his mother came into the room and sat on his bed. She fussed with his blanket for a minute and finally succeeded in pulling it away from his face. Her touch felt foreign but nice when she ran her fingers through his hair and spoke to him quietly.
“Will you turn over and talk with me a moment?”
He tried, but his arms were just too heavy. Instead he pushed with his legs and managed to land on his back, his arms flopping rather uselessly onto his stomach. He felt like a corpse in a casket and found that was kind of okay with
him. Her face appeared in front of his, and then the bedside lamp burst into light, exploding over his eyes, but he wasn’t fast enough to close them against its violent intrusion.
“What did you take? Aaron? How much? Where did you even get it?”
When he didn’t answer right away, she slapped him lightly on the cheek, and he braved the harsh lamplight to focus on her face.
“Two of the strong ones. I kept them when he took me off them. Just in case. Like today. In case Spencer left me. Allen is leaving me. I’m going to be all alone.” He couldn’t even bring himself to cry, so he looked away from his mother’s anguished face and stared at the ceiling instead. The ceiling didn’t make him feel bad.
“Okay, I’m not going to try to reason with you right now, but no one is leaving you, honey. It’s going to be fine. Spencer and Allen have lives they need to live, just like you do.” Her voice was gentle, but Aaron heard the reproach in it. He was being a child, but everything had fallen apart.
“I know.” That seemed like the right thing to say, just agree with her so she would leave and he could get back to staring at the wall. Only it didn’t work that way.
“Honey, Spencer is downstairs. He came to see you before he went up to the apartment. I’m going to send him up, okay?” She gave him little room to argue. He didn’t want Spencer to see him right then, pathetic, medicated, lying in bed like no time had passed since he’d come home from the hospital. Like all of the progress he’d made over the last few years had flown out the window and rested somewhere lightly in the trees, mocking him.
He couldn’t force himself to say the words to bring Spencer to his room, so he just nodded. Everything in him wanted to see Spencer one last time before he moved on to bigger and better things, leaving Aaron in a state of suspended animation, unable to follow. The room shifted, light moving and dancing on the walls as people drifted in front of the door, and then Spencer was there.
