Conflict of Interest

by J. M. Snyder

  He made a soft cheering sound that brought a smile to Alex’s lips, but he kept his gaze on the fries as he twirled one through the melted cheese. His voice was wistful and sad. “I’m so good, I get my pick of schools. Anywhere I want to go. Anywhere at all.”

  “Where do you go?” Alex asked gently. “In the dream.”

  Jamie sighed. “Somewhere far away from here,” he admitted. “Full scholarship because of my game, and once I get there everyone knows who I am. Big man on campus and all that shit.”

  Alex watched Jamie’s hand as he used the fries to smooth out the cheese on the plate. “And then what happens?”

  “Then a scout sees one of my games,” Jamie said, his voice still dreamy and far away, as if he could see the game play out in his mind, could turn and look into the crowd and see the talent scout watching him as he made another impossible shot. “And I get an offer to play professionally. Even though I’m short. They like my game so much, they’ll pay me millions to be on their team.”

  Alex grinned. “That’s a nice dream. Maybe one day—”

  “It ain’t gonna happen,” Jamie said, cutting him off. His voice was bitter as he tossed the French fry away angrily. “It’s just a stupid dream.”

  “Jamie,” Alex began, frowning at his friend’s sudden pout. “It’s not stupid. You just need to make it happen. Are you on the basketball team at school?”

  “I don’t go to school,” Jamie replied, biting into his burger viciously. He glared at Alex, daring him to respond to that.

  “Why not?” Alex wanted to know. “How else are you going to get a scholarship if you don’t play ball in school now?”

  Jamie turned away and stared out the window at the street. “I’m not going to college,” he said. “It’s expensive and I ain’t got money for lunch, you think I’m going to pay to have some asshole tell me shit I don’t need to know? I hate school. There’s too much other stuff I can be doing.” In a softer voice, he admitted, “Besides, I got kicked off the team. They said it was my grades but they hate me, I know they do. Everyone does.”

  Alex sighed and reached across the table, daring to touch Jamie’s arm. He rubbed his fingers along the downy hair on Jamie’s soft skin and watched as Jamie looked down at his hand, a slight frown on his face. “Well,” he said gently, “I don’t hate you. So don’t be so angry around me, okay? You don’t have to defend yourself, Jamie. I’m not here to judge you.”

  When he pulled his hand away, Jamie whispered, “Don’t stop.” He raised his eyes to meet Alex’s, and there was a vulnerable, hungry desire in the depths of his gaze that made Alex want to touch him again, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t allow himself to. “Alex—”

  “Eat up,” Alex said quickly, letting the moment slip by. “We have to get back. Father Nate will think I stole you away.”

  Jamie’s bright smile suggested he thought that might not be such a bad idea after all.

  Chapter 6

  The courtyard of St. Catherine’s was empty when they pulled to a stop in front of the rambling building. Must be dinner time, Alex thought, letting the car idle as he watched Jamie stare out the window. “Well,” he said, loath to see the day end. He yanked up the parking brake and forced a smile that Jamie didn’t turn around to see. “Here we are.”

  “I hate this place,” Jamie whispered. “I don’t want to get out.”

  Alex sighed. “Jamie—”

  Suddenly Jamie kicked open the door and jumped out of the car, his anger returning. He slammed the door shut and began to storm off, heading for the shelter. Twisting the keys from the ignition, Alex climbed out of the car and hurried after him. “Jamie, wait.”

  Jamie stopped at the edge of the fence that hemmed in the shelter’s property. He crossed his arms and bunched his shoulders as Alex hurried up to him. “What?” he asked, sullen, when Alex stepped in front of him.

  Now what? Alex thought, taking in the closed face, the surly brow. Where’s the Jamie I laughed with earlier? The one who sang as loud as he could with the radio back in the car?

  That Jamie was gone, replaced with this bitter young man who didn’t want to be just another runaway at a shelter for kids, who didn’t want to thank him for lunch or say goodbye. Softly Alex said, “I had a good time today.” Jamie sighed and looked beyond Alex, a bored expression on his face. “You’re a fun date,” he added, hoping to get through to the guy he knew existed inside.

  “Yeah, well, I can show you fun,” Jamie replied, but a corner of his mouth jerked into a half-smile that made Alex grin. “Take you to one of my clubs, that’s fun.”

  Laughing, Alex said, “I’m sure you know how to have a good time.”

  Now Jamie looked at him, and Alex was suddenly too aware of how close they were standing. The tips of Jamie’s sneakers rested against the toes of Alex’s shoes, and Alex’s T-shirt was so tight against Jamie’s biceps, like a second skin across Jamie’s chest. “I can show you a great time,” Jamie whispered, leaning closer. Alex looked into those blue eyes and swore he was drowning, Jamie looming over him, the rest of the world eclipsed…

  Stepping back, Alex cleared his throat. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Why?” Jamie stepped closer, causing Alex to take another step back, and then the fence was behind him…when had he let himself become trapped like this? Jamie placed his hands on the fence on either side of Alex’s head and his leg brushed against Alex’s thigh as he leaned in dangerously close. In a low, soft voice, he purred, “Why do you have to go?”

  Alex glanced around the yard. They were alone. The shadows were beginning to lengthen with the setting of the sun, crossing the basketball court as they stretched for the fence. “Jamie,” Alex breathed, raising his hands to keep some distance between them. His palms pressed on Jamie’s firm stomach, his fingers aching to raise higher, to touch the hard nipples and feel the skin around his neck. His arms wanted to wrap around the narrow waist, to pull Jamie closer and closer until there was nothing between them and his trim body pressed Alex back against the fence, lips hungry on Alex’s own, body warm in Alex’s arms. Somehow Alex found the strength to push Jamie away with the traitorous hands that wanted to pull him in. “I’ve got to go. I’m sorry.”

  With a sigh, Jamie leaned against the fence beside Alex and breathed, “I’m sorry, too.” Alex fought the urge to move away when Jamie trailed a finger down his arm. “Will you come by tomorrow?”

  Tomorrow? he thought wildly. Right now I don’t want to let go of today, I don’t know how I’ll make it through tonight, thinking of you and your skin and you want to know what I’m doing tomorrow?

  Shaking his head as if to clear those thoughts away, Alex admitted, “I have to work tomorrow.” He hoped his voice sounded steadier than he thought it did.

  “At the radio station?” Jamie asked. “Can I come? You said—”

  “I have to see,” Alex replied quickly. “I’ll ask tomorrow. It should be okay, but I just want to make sure, you know?”

  “Yeah.” Jamie picked at the hem of Alex’s sleeve; every now and then his fingers brushed along Alex’s skin, leaving fire in their wake. “So what about the next day?”

  “I have to work, Jamie,” Alex replied, moving back slightly. Jamie’s hand fell away and in the growing dusk he frowned. “We’ll see.”

  “We’ll see,” Jamie echoed softly. When Alex nodded, he scowled. “So that’s it? You do your good deed for the week, take the poor kid out to lunch, and when he asks if you’ll be back you just say ‘we’ll see’?”

  Alex shook his head. “No, Jamie—”

  “You’re busy tomorrow,” Jamie pointed out, his voice hardening with anger again. “You’re busy the next day. You’re leaving now. Shit, Alex, don’t play me like this. If you don’t wanna do this crap, just say it and leave. Don’t let me think you’ll be back when you won’t.”

  “Jamie,” Alex tried again, “you’re taking this the wrong way—”

  “Fuck you,” Jamie growled. He pushed away from the fe
nce and stumbled towards the shelter.

  “Jamie!” Alex called out.

  What the fuck just happened? he wondered. It was an awkward moment, true, but now he’s pissed and telling me to fuck off and what the hell is going on here? “Jamie, wait.”

  Jamie pulled off Alex’s T-shirt and threw it to the ground. “Here’s your fucking shirt back,” he said. “Have fun at work tomorrow. Have a great fucking life.”

  Oh shit. Alex ran after Jamie and grabbed his arm. Jamie tried to shrug out of his grip but Alex held on tight, forcing Jamie to turn around and look at him. “What the hell’s your problem?” Angry himself, Alex stared into Jamie’s dark eyes and refused to look away. He wouldn’t think of Jamie’s pliant skin beneath his fingers, or the way the light above the door to the shelter cast a golden glow along Jamie’s chest. He wouldn’t let himself notice those things. “I like spending time with you, Jamie, crazy as that may sound. I had a wonderful time this afternoon, even if you didn’t. Maybe I just wanted to be nice at first, maybe that’s why I signed up for this program, but I like you—I’m not just doing this out of obligation. I want to be your friend, and not because some priest thought we’d get along well together. But I’ve got things I need to do. Like work, and sleep, and classes when the summer’s over. I can’t be here all the time. I just can’t.” When Jamie twisted his arm again, Alex let him go. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

  “When?” Jamie asked, pouting.

  Alex sighed. “After work, I don’t know. Maybe eight, how’s that sound? Eight o’clock.”

  “Yeah, right,” Jamie muttered, and he hurried up the steps of the shelter. Alex didn’t stop him again. The door creaked when Jamie pulled it open. When he slammed it shut behind him, the echo faded into the early evening air.

  Weary, Alex walked back to his car. He wished he knew what it was he had said to make Jamie suddenly turn distant and unresponsive. He was so different this afternoon, Alex mused as he stopped to retrieve the T-shirt off the ground. He shook the dirt from it and balled the thin fabric into his fist. It was still warm with the heat from Jamie’s body, and he knew it would smell like him, too, if he just pressed the cloth against his nose and breathed in deep. He’d smell Jamie’s sweat and the faint soap that clung to him, a clean, fresh scent that still lingered in the car when Alex slid behind the driver’s seat. I’ll talk to Saundra tomorrow, Alex thought, starting the engine. How could his boss possibly say no to letting Jamie visit the station?

  He dropped the shirt onto the seat beside him as he pulled away from the shelter. He’d call Jamie tomorrow—hopefully that would give the kid enough time to cool down.

  But he still didn’t say goodbye, Alex thought, frowning at himself in the rearview mirror.

  * * * *

  Alex was right—Saundra didn’t mind if he brought Jamie to the radio station. “Just keep him under control,” she warned. They sat in the sound booth, listening to the goofy host of the morning show flirt with the girl who did traffic. “And make sure he doesn’t steal anything. It’s coming out of your paycheck if he does.”

  Alex sighed as he picked at the volume slider on the control panel. “He’s just two years younger than me,” he pointed out, “not some snot-nosed brat. Just because he lives at the shelter doesn’t mean he’s a thief.”

  “He’s a street rat,” Saundra replied. “Looking for free food and handouts and expecting something for nothing. Like the world owes them a living. If he’s only two years younger than you, why isn’t he on his own? Can’t he get a job? Or won’t he do an honest day’s work?”

  Alex shook his head. “Jamie’s had a rough life, that’s all. He just needs a friend.”

  But Saundra pulled on her headphones and refused to listen to Alex’s protests. “You keep an eye on him,” she said, raising her voice to hear herself over the music in her ears. “He takes anything or acts up—”

  “He won’t,” Alex promised. Wouldn’t she even give him a chance? Christ, was that the type of attitude Jamie had to deal with every day? Miffed, Alex pushed both sliders up to full volume as he stood, and turned before he could catch the bitchy look his boss threw his way.

  Jamie’s not that bad, Alex thought, surprised at the involuntary smile that spread across his face when he thought of the way the street lamps had washed Jamie’s chest with a warm light. He’d wanted to call the shelter when he got home, just to talk to him again, say he was sorry one more time. He still didn’t know why Jamie had suddenly stormed off like that…

  Unless he doesn’t think I’m coming back.

  Alex frowned at that. Maybe I wasn’t going to, not at first, but I can’t let him down. Even if he didn’t make me feel the way he does, I couldn’t just walk out of his life, not now.

  In the end, he hadn’t called Jamie because he didn’t want to pester the poor kid. He’d call that evening, when he got off from work, right? Eight o’clock, that’s what he’d said, but once he got home, time seemed to drag. At quarter ‘til, he figured it was close enough.

  For one heart-stopping moment he couldn’t find Father Taylor’s letter, but it had fallen between the table and his bed. After retrieving it, Alex sat on the floor to open the envelope again. He scanned the words until he found the number at the bottom of the letterhead, and with trembling fingers he fumbled for the phone on his bedside table. It rang once, twice, three times, and Alex was just about to hang up and try again when someone answered. “St. Catherine’s. This is Father Nate.”

  “Hello, Nate,” Alex breathed, relieved. He still didn’t feel comfortable calling the guy Father when he was only a few years older than himself. “This is Alex. From the Outreach program?” He waited a second and then added, “Jamie’s friend.”

  “Alex!” the priest cried, the smile clear in his voice. “Is Jamie with you?”

  Alex frowned at the letter in his hand. “No,” he said slowly. “I told him I’d call him tonight. Isn’t he there?”

  With a sigh Father Nate replied, “No. He left a little after six. I was hoping he’d gone with you, but…”

  Alex didn’t like the way the priest let the sentence trail off. “But what?” If Jamie wasn’t there, where was he?

  “He likes his clubs,” Father Nate said carefully. “I told you that. I guess I just thought maybe you’d help him find something better to do.”

  Shit.

  Alex refolded the letter back into the envelope. I knew I should’ve called him when I got in. But no, I had to wait. Didn’t he remember I said I’d call? Did he think I wouldn’t? “He went clubbing.” It wasn’t a question, and Father Nate didn’t bother to reply.

  Why did that make him upset? He knew Jamie liked the night life. He knew Jamie hung out at places he himself wouldn’t be caught dead in—Father Nate told him that when they first met. So why did he suddenly want to get into his car and drive all over town until he found Jamie and force him to leave that scene behind?

  Because he’s with someone else right now, his mind whispered.

  He tried to deny it but he couldn’t lie to himself. He’s in the back of a dark room somewhere, feeling up another boy and you wish it was you in his arms, your lips on his, your zipper he slowly eases down as his hand slips into your pants.

  That image burned in his mind, choking him with emotions he didn’t dare feel. “Well,” he said, sighing. “Tell him I called, will you? He can call me back whenever he gets in. It won’t be too late.”

  “Will do,” Father Nate replied.

  Alex hung up the phone and turned on the TV, hoping to erase the mental image of Jamie leaning over him in a smoked out club, his hand touching him in places Alex ached to be touched.

  And he waited. Long after he crawled into bed he was still waiting, listening in the darkness, but the phone never rang.

  Chapter 7

  Alex woke with a guilty start when his alarm clock went off the next morning. Shit. He didn’t know what time he’d finally drifted off, staring at the cordless phone on the pillo
w beside him, willing it to ring. Where the fuck is he? he wondered as he scrambled through the sheets, searching for the phone.

  He found it on the floor beside the bed and dialed the first four numbers to the shelter before he realized that it was only six in the morning. Father Nate would still be asleep. He’d wake up the whole place just to check on Jamie when he probably got in late last night and tried calling him but he’d been sleeping. Even though the phone was on the bed, Alex had been tired…maybe Jamie called and he slept right through the ring. Maybe he left a message. Alex hurried downstairs to check the answering machine.

  The light didn’t blink. He stared at it for a full minute, sure it would blink, sure there was a message on it, there had to be. Refusing to believe Jamie hadn’t called, he even pushed the Play button on the machine. Maybe Dave played the message when he came in. But the machine beeped twice and that was it—no message, no Jamie, nothing.

  Fuck.

  Back upstairs, Alex stood outside Dave’s door and debated on waking his roommate. What time had he wandered in last night? Maybe he came in as the phone rang and he didn’t want it to wake Alex so he answered it. Maybe he talked to Jamie. Maybe…

  Gently Alex eased the door open and peeked into the dark room. The sheets were wrapped around bare legs that definitely didn’t belong to Dave—they were long and curvaceous and female. “Dave?” Alex hissed. Whoever was in Dave’s bed pulled her legs beneath the covers with a soft moan. “Dave?”

  Hidden somewhere in the tangled sheets came the grumbled reply. “What?”

  Stepping into the room, Alex asked, “Did the phone ring last night?”

  “What the fuck?” Dave raised his head. The blanket fell away to uncover disheveled hair and bloodshot eyes. Owlishly, he blinked in the light from the hall. “Man, what time is it?”