Socks for an Otter

by Posy Roberts

  Was it a panic attack like the buzzer? No. Terrified, Blanche said. Terrified of his father, made worse by what looked like subterfuge.

  He took off down the block, peering as far off into the distance as he could make out. He got in his car and made a slow circuit, cursing the people who shoveled. No footprints to follow.

  Sebastian was long gone. Nowhere to be seen.

  Maybe he’d show up at Louis’s place . . . but he already knew that was a farce.

  It was worth a shot. Freezing rain turning to snow was forecast for later tonight. Sebastian knew it, and he hated the wet stuff. He also had an interview tomorrow with Blanche, and all his interview clothes were hanging in Louis’s closet. Maybe. Maybe that would drive him back to Columbia Heights.

  Louis headed home, parking in his spot, but he felt zero hope.

  Sebastian wasn’t sitting on the front step or walking back and forth on the sidewalk. He wasn’t on the porch, slumped against the door. No note either.

  And when Louis turned the lock and walked inside, his house felt empty.

  He moved here so he never had to feel an emptiness like this again, but the gaping hole that opened up when he realized Sebastian had run away from him rather than toward him was sharp and fresh and deep.

  Only then, much too late in the game, he realized he never got Sebastian’s number, and he’d never given him his.

  They’d never done that basic thing. And why? No dating app to initiate it, yeah, but still. Why not?

  Because Louis had been waiting for Sebastian to ask for his number, just like he’d waited for Sebastian to tell him his real name. He had limited texting, data, all that stuff, and Louis wasn’t about to rob him of something necessary by filling his phone up with cute cat pictures and rambling thoughts that led nowhere.

  Because he would. And Sebastian likely knew that as well.

  They’d dated in person, not via chat, which Louis felt so much deeper.

  But now it was snapped clean off.

  He’d run away. Sebastian wanted to be alone.

  It was a harsh reality as it dawned, and it hurt like hell.

  But it meant he needed time.

  Somehow Louis had to give it to him when the only thing he wanted was to run to him.

  “What a mistake!”

  Sebastian woke a guy who’d been sleeping against a closed storefront, startling him. He was older, wrinkled, and gray. Looked like a lifer.

  “I should know by now not to trust people.”

  “That’s right,” the guy said. “Never trust the man.”

  “Fuckin’ right. All ’cause of snow and a little fucking wind.”

  “Well,” the old-timer droned out with a tilt of his head. “It was cold. Never felt cold like that in December before.”

  “Still . . .”

  “Climate change, they say, but I think they’re trying to drive us south. Maybe so the hurricanes wash us away. A cleansing so they can start over fresh.”

  “Maybe.” Sebastian wouldn’t give that line of thought any more airtime. “Where’s the closest bus or Metro stop?”

  “’Bout ten, maybe fifteen blocks thataway.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Can you spare a few dollars for a homeless vet?”

  “Dude, I’m just as homeless as you are.”

  The guy scoffed as he eyed Bash up and down. He wasn’t getting into it. He needed to be somewhere safe. He just needed to get home.

  To his cardboard boxes and blankets.

  Fuck.

  22

  Treasure Lost

  “Where the fuck have you been?” Javon said as he pulled Sebastian into a welcoming hug. He’d been warming his hands by a small fire someone had started in an empty coffee can. “I missed your ugly, hairy face.”

  Sebastian chuckled as he palmed Javon’s ears and pressed their foreheads together. This was familiar. Here he knew what to expect. “Glad to see a friendly face.”

  Javon gestured with a tilt of his head toward Sebastian’s cardboard home as he headed over to it. “I tried to keep everything safe, but I think someone lifted some shit.”

  “Thanks, man. Nothin’ important in there. Everything I need is— Shiiiiit!”

  Javon’s eyes widened as he scanned up and down Sebastian’s body, turning him around and making a show of it. “Where the fuck is your bag?”

  “At Louis’s house. Fuck.” He gripped his hair, pulling it. “How could I be so fucking stupid? My dad was fucking right. I’m useless. After all this time, you’d think I know there’s no one who will rescue me. I couldn’t plan a walk around the block without fucking it up.”

  Javon chuckled. “Well, dependin’ on the block, that’s not exactly hard.”

  “I had everything important in that bag except for my ID and what little cash I have. Thank God I shoved that in my pocket before we left for the party.”

  “Come on in,” Javon said as he unzipped the flap to his tent. A small lantern was lit, one that ran on windup power, so Javon hadn’t been outside for long.

  Sebastian followed him in and sat on a thick cushion covered in striped fabric. It was warmer in here, so he unbuttoned his coat. He kept his slittens on, though, fingers warm. He didn’t let his mind go to the conversation that had Louis in stitches days ago.

  It’s stupid. Leave it.

  “You went to a party? Tell me about it.”

  Sebastian let out a weary sigh. “It was a fuckin’ disaster is what it was.”

  “Don’t look that way from that plush sweater you’re wearing. Looks like your sugar daddy at least bought you some swag.”

  Sebastian ran his fingers over the collar of the cashmere and couldn’t help thinking about how he’d spotted it, then the price tag, and the realization that this was like finding a needle in a haystack. His plan had been to sell it. He still could. How, though? It wasn’t like he had an eBay account anymore, at least not one attached to a bank account he could access.

  The sweater had kept him so much warmer in his coat. He couldn’t imagine getting rid of it now. It might be the only thing that got him through the winter, and if this was truly the start of winter, he couldn’t be so greedy.

  Like his fucking father.

  “The party started off fine but ended in disaster when I found out my dad was there. And apparently he knows Louis or they’re gonna work together or something.”

  “They in cahoots?”

  Sebastian shook his head. “I don’t know. Yes. No. Maybe.”

  “Sounds like you don’t know shit,” Javon said through a chuckle.

  “When have I ever?” Sebastian drew his knees up, prickly as hell. This defensive posture felt familiar but oddly . . . far off. He’d let his guard down days ago.

  That’s the problem, idiot.

  Yeah. That really was the problem. Letting your guard down got you taken advantage of and hurt.

  Javon gave his knees a squeeze. “You’ve always been way smarter than you’ve given yourself credit for. It’s just different shit than we need to know out here on the mean streets to make it through till mornin’.”

  Sebastian scoffed. “Yeah? Like what? What do I know that’s helpful for my survival? I’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

  “Daw, you say such sweet thangs to me.” Javon smiled so that his dimple practically sparkled in the dim light.

  “I know useless shit, like how to call a car service or where to get the best deals on last season’s accessories.”

  “Nah. You know more than that. Like knowin’ how to talk to people so they buy you a whole meal rather than just tossin’ you a few cents in a cup. And what you manage with some of those men . . . Now, I ain’t ever gonna suck a cock for a meal or a bed—I ain’t gay—but you get the five-star-hotel treatment every so often. I ain’t never had that.”

  “You don’t wanna know what I had to do for that.”

  “Nah, you’re prob’ly right. But do you regret it?”

  Sebastian shrugged. He
’d always been willing. Nothing had happened without his consent. But if he’d had cash and food and a home, he never would’ve done those things. At least not with those men. “Some of the stuff I did . . . The guys . . .” He shook his head, unwilling to go on.

  “Do you regret the Louis fella?”

  “I regret leaving my bag at his house.”

  “Nah, I mean the rest. The sex. ’Cause I’m assuming there was sex, based on your face.”

  “There was sex.” He gripped his hair tight and stared up into the dark space of the tent. “But I don’t belong with him. He’s too much like my old life, fancy dinner parties and all, and I’ll never want that.”

  “You don’t? All this time I thought you were hopin’ to go back.”

  “What’s the point?” This was new thinking for Sebastian, and he wasn’t entirely sure where it was coming from.

  “What was the point before?”

  “To show my father I could make it on my own” rolled off his tongue before he could catch it.

  “And now what’s the point?”

  “To prove it to myself, I guess.”

  “Didn’t you want to prove it to yourself before?”

  Sebastian shook his head. “I didn’t give a shit. I wasn’t even thinking about the future.”

  “Which explains why you’re so shit at planning for it.”

  Sebastian couldn’t help but chuckle at Javon’s perfect logic. When laid out so plainly, it was easy to see how he’d set himself up to fail. And how long had that been going on? Forever.

  “Hmmm.” Javon sat back and smiled, all-knowing like. “So what happened between before Louis and after Louis that took you from wanting to prove yourself to Daddy to this whole new place of wanting to prove yourself to . . . yourself?”

  “I don’t know,” he whispered.

  “You sure about that? I think you know, but you’re too scared to go there.”

  “He showed me I could look forward rather than back. And how to do it, as weird as that sounds.”

  “Not that weird, but give me more.” He flicked a few come-here gestures Sebastian’s way.

  “Louis lost his wife and baby, so he had no other choice. There was only forward.” Sebastian shook his head and scratched at his beard, the cold, dry air already getting to him. “I’ve been trying so hard to get back to what I knew—not to what I was—but that life. I don’t think that’s possible, to go back, I mean. How can I live like I did without being that little shit again?”

  “I don’t know, man. You’re a prickly little shit at times, but I’ve never known you to be this hurtful person you claim you were.”

  “I was stupid.”

  “We’re all stupid. Every single person under this bridge has had stupid singin’ solo in their choir. All those men and women sitting up in the Capitol Building. Stupid. Some get caught. Lots don’t, but they’re still stupid. The White House. Stupid, and he’s gonna get caught. Eventually.” Javon chuckled and then let out a long sigh. “Even that Louis of yours has some stupid in him. He has to. So if you’re putting him up on some pedestal, thinkin’ he’s all lovely and perfect, you just didn’t spend enough time with him to see all his cracks.”

  Sebastian snorted a laugh. “No, I never got to see his crack.”

  Javon covered his ears. “Boy, you know I don’t wanna hear ’bout none of that.”

  Bash blushed as he apologized. “Sorry to give you the visuals. Never again. I promise. Never again.”

  “Well, you put up with me and Emily, so I forgive you.”

  “Yeah, some of those sounds are permanently stuck in my brain too.”

  “Whatever. Back to Louis. I’m sure he has cr— I’m sure he has fault lines.” Javon raised a brow, clearly pleased with himself for course correcting.

  “Like, he rambles, I guess. He gets nervous and awkward and just . . . goes. But it’s cute.” He couldn’t help but smile at that.

  “Look at you. Louis turns on a light in your heart.”

  “He does not.”

  “Yeah, he does.”

  “Liar. Besides, it doesn’t matter. At this party, which was a party to impress, I embarrassed him by fucking running out on him. Made a scene in front of superinfluential people. Fuck.” He growled because it wasn’t just his father that was influential and powerful and whatever else at that party. There had been so many women and men he’d met that . . . Who knew what they thought of him now? How what he did messed with their impression of Louis. And Blanche . . . “I even fucked up a job interview I’d managed to line up.”

  “How’d you do that?”

  “By being a fucking . . . child.”

  Javon shrugged. “Maybe you didn’t fuck it up as bad as you think. Both the job and things with Louis.”

  “I was supposed to formally interview tomorrow.”

  “So interview. Go where you were told and do what they ask you. Don’t waste a chance, man.”

  Sebastian nodded. A half smile quickly grew to a grin. “That’s what everything felt like with Louis: a fucking chance. The first real chance I’ve had in ages, but that job offer felt like privilege all over again. It was handed to me because I was with him, because I knew the right person.”

  Javon sent Sebastian a skeptical look, bottom lip pushing out as he considered. “And if you go and do that job and you can’t cut it, trust me, they’ll let you go. They’ll knock your ass outta there so fast, you won’t know what to do. At least if they know you’re homeless.”

  “They do.”

  “Go. Take advantage, then. We don’t get many chances like this, and it might be your opportunity to prove whatever to yourself. Bonus: hopefully you’ll have a big enough paycheck to buy yourself a fucking tent and a decent winter coat. If that’s all you get out of this, I’d call that worth it.”

  Sebastian chuckled at how easily Javon could boil it down to the important parts. “A tent would be nice. Those damn boxes are starting to sag. And a real winter coat.”

  “Maybe if you ask Santa for that, he’ll bring one to you.”

  Sebastian laughed and crawled out of Javon’s tent. “I quit believing in Santa far too long ago to hold out hope for that.”

  “Never let go of hope, friend. That’s all we got some days.”

  23

  Made Visible

  Louis woke, made scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee, dished up two plates, filled two mugs, and was standing at the foot of his bed, tray in hand, before he remembered.

  Sebastian was gone.

  Sebastian didn’t come home with him.

  Sebastian ran out and Louis had no clue what was going through his head.

  The tray landed with a clatter. Louis landed with more of a crash and a bang.

  He drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, burying his face as he let go. There was no one to hide his tears from.

  Hell, he had no one.

  Which made the tears come faster.

  He thought he and Sebastian had made a connection. They’d had something, right?

  “Am I so bad at reading people that I can’t see what’s right in front of my face?”

  “Yeah, you are, Louis. You fucking are.”

  Great, now I’m talking to myself as if I’m two different people.

  There was only one cure for that.

  He dialed Leah’s number despite it being the ass crack of dawn on the West Coast. She answered with a muffled grunt and several other noises that sounded as if she were blindly grabbing for things and sitting up.

  “He robbed you. I knew it,” she said, much more alert than Louis expected.

  “No.” But as his heart shattered at the realization that Sebastian was really gone, tears fell and took his voice with them.

  “You’re breathing so hard. Are you crying? Louie, are you crying?”

  He whimpered.

  “Do I need to call an ambulance.”

  “No,” he managed as he curled himself into a little ball on the rug.

&n
bsp; “Then tell me what happened.”

  He did as best he could. He told her the parts she didn’t know, at least. How conversation came so easy that an hour passed in what felt like ten minutes. How they spent the last days together and how, not once, he’d thought about his lonely heart or how empty his world was or how much he was missing out on because Mati was gone.

  “I didn’t think of any of those things. Not once, Leah. That’s been my . . . everyday for the last three years, and he comes into my life and it suddenly stops? And I didn’t even notice until he’s not here anymore? What the fuck? What is that?”

  “It’s love,” she said with a smile in her voice.

  “No it’s not.”

  “Video chat. Now. I’ll tell you if I see love.” She disconnected.

  Louis didn’t know if she expected him to call her back or if she would call him. And which app did she want to use? She hadn’t said.

  His phone lit up with her call and he clicked Accept, bringing her exasperation to life. “I meant for you to call me back on FaceTime, but whatever. I just didn’t want to see you naked.”

  “I’m not naked,” he said.

  “Good. Now back to this. Tell me how you feel about him.” She pulled her curly hair back into a ponytail, which made it easier to see her face.

  Louis sat up and propped his phone on his knee. “I like him. A lot.”

  She pursed her lips. “Tell me what your favorite things are, the stuff you did together that made you happiest.”

  He couldn’t fight back a smile as he said, “He let me pamper him.”

  “How?”

  “I drew him baths, applied masks to his face, helped him work beard balm in. I cooked for him. I bought him a sweater that . . . Oh Christ, Leah. It looked like it was made for him. He’s not meant to be a street kid.”

  “No one is, sweetie.”

  “I know.” Louis scoffed, mentally deriding himself. “But he’s not strong enough to survive on the streets.”

  “He’s survived this long.”

  Louis stared off into the distance as his conversation with Gabriel replayed. Gabriel couldn’t believe Sebastian had survived on the streets. As in, he had zero faith that his son could manage it for a few hours. And he’d survived for months. Gabriel truly believed Sebastian was mooching off a friend somewhere in Tribeca, living the same old life but at a different address, with Gabriel no longer footing the bill.