Fever Pitch

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Fever Pitch Page 11

by Heidi Cullinan


  “No. He doesn’t have the time because he’s too busy running around being awesome and adored.” Giles slumped his shoulders. “I had this idea how college would be different, how I wouldn’t be an unholy outcast this time—and I’m not, but…well, here’s the popular kid from A-Hell, rubbing my nose in the fact that I’m never going to be cool.”

  “Yeah.” There was a lot of commiseration in the word, and Brian’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t have such a loud example as you, but I get the whole dork on Cool Island thing, believe me. It’s better here than high school, but—well, as they say. Wherever you go, there you are. It sucks, having to admit it wasn’t high school’s fault. I’m straight up not cool.”

  “From where I sit, you’re pretty damn cool. Do you have any idea how nervous I was I’d get a roommate who’d worry about my gay cooties? You haven’t so much as blinked.”

  Brian shrugged. “My cousin is gay. He came out when we were both in eighth grade, and I watched how rough it was for him. I couldn’t exactly beat guys up on his behalf, but I got beat up with him. I figured out pretty quickly it felt better to stand beside him than look away.”

  “See, that is cool.”

  “Yeah, too bad dick doesn’t do anything for me. All Jay’s gay friends hit on me, so I guess I’m hot to the wrong gender.” His face screwed up in frustration. “I have no idea how to talk to girls. None. Not to get a date, anyway. They treat me as if I’m sexless, so if I say, ‘Do you want to go out sometime?’ it’s like I tried to put my hand down their pants. I’ve never made out with anybody, so you’re way ahead of me.”

  “Wish I had some brilliant advice about the girls, but I have not once had one of them crush on me.” He kicked an empty plastic tumbler, rolling it forward on the rug. “Aaron could help you, I’m sure.”

  “He really bugs you, doesn’t he?”

  “I know I’m wasting my energy, hating him so much, torturing myself with his popularity and his success. If I erase him from my experience, things are actually amazing. Every time I get any traction on putting him out of my head, though, somebody shoves him in front of me again.”

  “So you’re going to go crazy working with him, is what you’re telling me. Which means you should say no. I can tell by your face you’re going to say yes for Mina. Except you probably won’t have enough influence to guarantee her a spot.”

  Giles rubbed at his temples. His head was beginning to hurt. “Yes.”

  “But you’re going to do it anyway.”

  All Giles could see was Mina’s sad, desperate face. It didn’t matter if they would actually discriminate against her or not. He had to be there for her. Fuck his hang-up with Aaron. Mina mattered. “Yes.”

  Brian put an arm loosely over his shoulders in a football-locker-room way. “Come on. Let’s drown our misery in some Minecraft.”

  Giles shoved him playfully away, but he smiled as Brian changed the disc and they picked up their controllers.

  Despite the looming awkward ahead of him, he felt better than he had in days. Maybe Aaron had the whole fucking music department eating out of his hand, but there wasn’t any way he had a roommate as awesome as Brian.

  The Friday of the week before homecoming, Aaron was in one of the piano practice rooms, fussing with an arrangement of an Imogen Heap song, when his phone rang.

  “Hey there.” Jim Seavers’s voice was bright, even pleased, which was an unusual way for him to address his son. “Don’t want to keep you from your studies. Philosophy of Law is brutal at Saint Timothy, Bob says.”

  Aaron nearly dropped the phone. “F-fine. Everything’s fine.”

  “Good to hear. We got a flyer about homecoming, but I leave for California the next week and won’t be able to get away.”

  Sagging in relief, Aaron forced air into his lungs. “It’s okay.” Please don’t come, ever.

  “I already have some files for you to work on over Christmas break. I’m not sure if I’ll be back by then, but the other partners can get you up to speed. I’ll be curious to see how your views have changed now that you’ve had some real courses under your belt. You and Bob can trade war stories.”

  “Okay,” Aaron replied, because what the hell else could he say?

  “I wanted to let you know how proud I am of the work you’re doing. You ever get stuck on something, you let me know, and I’ll get you through.”

  Murmuring a goodbye, Aaron rested his forehead on the piano for a minute. For the first time, Aaron’s father had said he was proud of him…based on a lie.

  His chest felt tight, his stomach queasy. His time in the practice room was up, so he couldn’t hide there, and the rest were full, as always. The only thing he could do was go to his dorm, but that wouldn’t help anything. Elijah would be there.

  Emily and Reece still escorted Elijah to Bible study. Emily shoved her breasts in Aaron’s face every chance she got, and Reece continued to exhibit manic earnestness. The Campus Crusaders had been eclipsed in their creep-show factor, though, because Elijah’s parents had shown up.

  Despite how unsettled his dad made him, Aaron would take Jim Seavers any day over the Princes. They were almost too awful to be believed, like parents out of a Roald Dahl novel. They reminded Aaron of meeting the gaze of a drunken-bully football player at a rally in Eden Prairie. The Princes were subtle, but there was a knife under everything they did, even when on the surface they were behaving like regular parents. The mother held Elijah’s hands and prayed over him, except it mostly consisted of apologizing to the ceiling for what a horrible, nasty sinner her son was, and she thanked Jesus for being kind enough to free Elijah from his enslavement to sin. She asked her son every other second if he’d been in trouble.

  The whole time this went on, Mr. Prince huddled over Elijah’s computer, scowling. He barely looked at his son, as if Elijah were vermin he had to tolerate. He pawed through every inch of Elijah’s things, and sometimes he searched Aaron’s side of the room too. Thankfully Elijah usually cut them off before Aaron had to get brave enough to do it. Once again, though, he never got acerbic with them the way he did with Aaron. It seemed from his parents and the Crusaders, Elijah would endure anything.

  Knowing his roommate came from deep weird explained a lot, but living with Elijah was the loneliest thing in the world. He bitched about it constantly to Walter, who had stopped giving him tips on how to engage and started encouraging him to ask his RA for a new room assignment.

  Walter. It was too early in the day to talk to his friend on the phone, so Aaron texted him instead.

  Walter was coming to homecoming and bringing Kelly along. Aaron looked forward to their arrival like the dawning of a sun. Possibly they’d arrive in time to observe the Ambassador rehearsal, but if not, Aaron would still be glad to see them.

  Especially since last night’s meeting with Salvo had come with the bombshell that Giles might be helping out the same way Aaron was. Aaron wanted to quit, no matter how it broke Jilly’s heart.

  A text from Walter broke the spell of Aaron’s worry.

  Don’t sweat your dad. We’ll be there even if he does show up, and we’re going to have a great time. I can’t wait to see your concert and take you out after. Kelly’s excited too. In the meantime, go talk to your RA again. You need to get a new roommate pronto.

  Just reading the text eased Aaron. His shoulders settled into a more regular latitude. Walter would help him sort everything out. Giles, his roommate, his dad.

  The Monday of homecoming week it was official: Giles was helping out with Salvo. It was equally official that trying to bail on Jilly would be not only rude and cruel to his best friend at Saint Timothy but possibly even more uncomfortable than dealing with Giles. After the auditions on Tuesday though, sitting with Giles at a table and trying not to touch him or look at him or smell him, Aaron was seriously ready for a drink. A lot of drinks.

  Unfortunately,
he didn’t know anyone who could get him alcohol.

  On Wednesday, Aaron called Walter to confirm their plans and maybe get some advance help on the Giles-Salvo situation, but Walter didn’t answer, and Aaron’s texts went without reply as well. Not even several hours later. At midnight Aaron gave up waiting and went to bed.

  Elijah sat at his desk, scribbling in a notebook as per usual.

  Aaron slept fitfully, waking at 3:00 a.m., his brain a frazzled mess. Had he done something to upset Walter? Did Walter hate him now too? The thought cramped his stomach, and he curled into a ball until at last sleep claimed him. His dreams were sharp and strange—he kept kissing Giles, their clothes melting away as they made out, but Giles broke away and stood over him, telling him he was awful in bed. Walter sometimes appeared too, frowning as he spoke in Jim Seavers’s voice. “I’m disappointed in you, Aaron.”

  When he woke at six thirty coated in sweat, Elijah sat at his desk, watching Aaron with an odd expression. For an awkward moment they stared at each other.

  Then it got weird, because they had an actual conversation.

  “What were you dreaming?” Elijah asked.

  About my pathetic crush, nude and judging me. “Nothing.”

  Elijah’s dark gaze made Aaron squirm. “You were calling out to someone. You were upset. I thought you might have said…”

  He trailed off, but his stare grew even more intense. Like next he’d get his scalpel and cut Aaron open to find the truth.

  Good Christ, Aaron must have been calling out to Giles. Or Walter. “I can’t remember. Sorry I disturbed you.”

  Elijah clearly didn’t buy this, and now he looked frustrated. “You were begging for something. Someone.”

  Aaron climbed out of bed. “I’m going to go shower.”

  Gathering his soap and towel, he went down to the showers to escape, and thankfully he had the room to himself when he returned. Unfortunately, he’d also missed Walter’s call. Relief flooded him as he dialed the number.

  “Aaron.” Walter sounded worn and frazzled, and there was weird activity in the background. “I meant to call, but things got crazy. Kelly had an allergic reaction last night.”

  Aaron’s heart lurched. “Is he okay?”

  “Yeah. He had a cold to start, ate some almond by mistake, and somehow it all turned into this batshit asthma attack.” Walter’s voice wavered, and it was clear he was barely holding it together. “He’s going to be okay, but it was awful to watch. I don’t think I handled it well.” He paused. “Okay, I handled it so badly they had to sedate me.”

  Aaron ached for his friend. “I’m glad he’s going to be okay. I wish I could help you, both of you.”

  This pause was heavy, and with a sinking heart, Aaron realized what was coming.

  “Aaron—I’m sorry, but I can’t come this weekend. I feel terrible, and I want you to know I was looking forward to it. A lot. They’re letting Kelly out in a few hours, but he’s supposed to rest, and I can’t—”

  Aaron forced the words out. “Of course you can’t leave him, and he shouldn’t come here.”

  “I keep trying to figure out a way to make it work, but I only run around in circles.”

  Aaron swallowed his disappointment. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll do it another time.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Aaron tried to laugh. He sucked at it. “Right, because Kelly had a reaction on purpose.”

  “Kelly keeps trying to argue we should come. He hates it when his allergies get in the way of his life.”

  “Seriously. It’s okay. When things calm down, try another weekend. I’ll still be here.”

  Walter apologized for another five minutes, and Aaron continued to lie and tell him he didn’t mind at all. The only reason the cycle broke was because a nurse needed Walter, and he hung up promising he would call a thousand times in the next three days, a promise Aaron desperately wanted but refused to accept. “Take care of your fiancé,” he urged Walter.

  After ending the call, Aaron stared sadly at the phone for a few seconds. Then he gathered his books for his classes and got ready to go to his lessons. He was halfway down the hall when a guy stumbled into him, murmuring something about music fags. Aaron ignored him.

  On the stairs, however, he started to cry.

  The tears came out of nowhere—it wasn’t as if he’d been holding them back, they simply materialized out of thin air. His sinuses swelled, his eyes pooled and tears spilled over in a steady, silent stream down his cheeks. It was mortifying. Unnerving too, because it was almost as if some other part of him had pulled an override switch. He didn’t know the origin of the tears, so he didn’t know how to return to neutral.

  Worst of all, now that the dam was breached, he could not stop.

  He wandered aimlessly across campus, trying to clear his head, but nothing worked. The tears wouldn’t even slow down. Eventually he headed to the music building, opting to enter via the back door so he could linger in an access hallway behind the orchestra and choir rooms. The din of students filtered down the passage, and Aaron still couldn’t calm down. Great, now the music department had front-row seats for his meltdown.

  As if he didn’t have enough on his plate, his phone chimed a reminder for his lesson with Nussy in thirty minutes. Aaron was still crying with no sign of stopping. Nussy would ask him what was wrong, and Aaron would die of mortification.

  The dark thought settled like a seed.

  Who would miss him? Walter, maybe, but he was a burden to his friend more than anything else, simply one more someone to worry about. Jilly would be sad, but she had no idea he was this hot a mess. Certainly she didn’t need him for Salvo, not with Giles. Nussy would be sorry, but sometimes Aaron wasn’t sure he could be the person Nussy thought he was, any more than he could be the person his father wanted.

  In the end thoughts of suicide only made him weep more deeply, because he knew even if a polite cupcake à la Alice in Wonderland appeared, labeled Eat me to die quickly and peacefully, he wouldn’t have the guts to pick it up. He didn’t have the guts to do anything. Not to select his own major, not to decide for himself to audition for choir, not to admit to Walter it hurt him all the way to his soul to be alone this weekend. He fucked up everything, because he was a stupid, worthless, nauseating wimp no one could love, because he wasn’t anyone at all.

  Aaron pressed his face to his knees, rocking back and forth in a pathetic attempt to calm himself. His hysteria cycled higher until he was no more than a snotty, inglorious heap of emotional exhaustion.

  It took the person shaking him several tries to penetrate his haze. Aaron lifted his head and stared, horrified, into the worried, clean-cut face of Damien, the choral student director.

  Chapter Ten

  Damien Norling was a senior, another first tenor and pretty much a walking ad for the kind of put-together person Aaron wished he could be. He was so amazing he already had a fiancé, a pretty junior named Stevie who lived and breathed elementary education. Now Damien watched snot drip out of Aaron’s nose and into his mouth as he drew ragged, shallow breaths. If the death cupcake had been present, Aaron would have gobbled it up.

  “I’m fine,” Aaron tried to say, but mostly he choked and wheezed up more snot. Wincing, he buried his face in his hands because it was the only way left to hide. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.”

  Damien’s hand rested in a comforting gesture on Aaron’s shoulder. “What happened? Something at school? Bad news from home?”

  Never had Aaron felt more ridiculous. “It’s n-nothing.”

  “Whatever’s bothering you sounds about as far from nothing as anything I’ve seen in a long time.”

  Aaron’s despair was a gas station road map he couldn’t put back together. “I c-can’t stop c-crying.”

  “Oh, buddy. Is there someone I can call for you?”

  This of
course was only additional fodder for Aaron’s emotional compost heap. “No.” The next sob hurt his chest, the muscles spasming from overuse. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Why do you keep apologizing?”

  “Because I’m crying like an idiot.”

  “I hate to break it to you, but we’ve all cried like idiots. Ask Marius about my mental breakdown this summer when they screwed up my clinical rotation.”

  “This is for a st-stupid r-reason. This is because I’m…l-lonely.”

  To his surprise, Damien seemed almost chagrined. “I’ll be damned. Baz was right.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Nussy ordained you wunderkind, and we all accepted that and made our assumptions. Except Baz, who’s argued for weeks something was off.”

  The realization his mental health was the speculation of so many people added new layers to Aaron’s mortification.

  Damien had gone from chagrined to guilty and awkward. “I should have seen this. I can’t believe I fell for Nussy’s shit, because usually I’m the first one in there calling his mad bluff, but no. If you’re gay too, there’s going to be no living with Baz.” Color faded from his face. “Oh shit, I should not have said that out loud.”

  Weirdly, Damien’s fumble made Aaron smile. “It’s okay. Yeah…I’m gay.”

  “Awesome. I mean—I’m glad—” He winced and glanced at the ceiling. “Jesus, I suck at this.”

  Now Aaron laughed. “You’re doing pretty well, actually.”

  Damien’s expression told him he didn’t buy it. “What I meant is, I don’t care that you’re gay, and neither will anybody in the music department. If they do, Baz will probably set fire to them. He’s gay, if you haven’t sussed that one out. I would not, however, advise you to date him.”

  “I haven’t dated anybody, only two girls who were mistakes.” Aaron couldn’t stop his mouth. “I don’t really have any friends. Just one. He was supposed to come this weekend, but his boyfriend got sick.” He stared fixedly at his knees. “I guess I was looking forward to it a little too much.”

 

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