Conflict of Interest

by J. M. Snyder

  * * * *

  The next morning, the first thing Alex did upon waking was fumble for the phone and dial Saundra’s number, before he even rolled out of bed. “I can’t come in today,” he said simply. “I’ve got something to do.”

  For a moment he listened to Saundra breathe into the phone. He could hear the anger in her silence, but Alex didn’t care. Just as he was about to hang up, Saundra replied, “Fine.” Then a dial tone filled his ear and Alex pushed the Phone button, clicking the cordless off.

  He waited until after his shower to call the shelter. “It’s me,” he said as he zipped up his jeans. “Alex.”

  “Hello there,” Father Nate replied warmly. “Jamie’s eating breakfast, if you want me to get him for you—”

  “No,” Alex said, a little too quickly. “I need to talk to you, actually. About Jamie. Are you busy right now?”

  Father Nate sighed, and Alex didn’t like that sound, not one bit. “Sure,” he said. “Let me get to my office—”

  “In person,” Alex interrupted. He didn’t want to do this over the phone—it was too impersonal that way, too easy, and nothing about this program had been easy so far, had it? “I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten minutes, okay? Do you have time?”

  “Sure,” the priest said again.

  Alex dropped the phone into its cradle and sighed. Ten minutes and it’ll all be over. So why did he feel sick all of a sudden? Why did his heart hurt and his stomach churn if he was doing what he knew was right?

  * * * *

  Alex saw Jamie shooting hoops as he pulled to a stop outside the shelter. Jamie’s gaze followed him past the courtyard; he glanced up and saw a faint frown on Jamie’s face that wrinkled his brow and darkened his eyes. Slowly he dribbled the basketball, ignoring the other kids playing with him as he watched Alex, waiting. Please, Alex prayed silently, don’t make this any harder than it already is.

  But Jamie still wasn’t talking to him, and he just watched sullenly as Alex hurried up the steps and into the shelter. Please, he thought again, wondering what it was he wanted. This morning he thought he knew, and he should’ve taken the easy way out, told Nate over the phone that he wanted to quit the program and he would’ve never had to see Jamie again. But now here he was, and seeing Jamie filled him with doubts, made him wonder if he was really doing the right thing after all, and he hated the indecision that gnawed at him.

  Inside the shelter he blinked in the sudden dimness, and then Father Nate was at his side, worry written across his face because he knew what Alex was here for…somehow he just knew. “My office,” he said.

  Alex nodded and followed the priest down the brightly painted hall to the tiny room at the end. The desk still overflowed with paper, the two chairs still sat in the same position they had been a week before when Alex first stepped into this place. It was here he first saw Jamie, here where he lost his heart and soul and mind to a boy he shouldn’t love.

  Clearing his throat, Nate frowned at him. “Jamie’s come a long way, Alex. Thanks to you.”

  “God.” Alex looked around the room and tried to avoid the priest’s steady gaze, but he couldn’t. Meeting those compassionate eyes, he tried to gather his thoughts together but all he saw was Jamie’s pout, the one he wanted to kiss away. “Nate, I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

  “Do what?” Father Nate asked, confused.

  “I can’t be in the program anymore,” he whispered. Before the priest could reply, Alex hurried on. “I thought I was supposed to be the adult here. I thought I was supposed to be the one he could look up to, the one he could trust. But I can’t be that, not when just looking at him fills me with lust and desire and I simply can’t do it anymore.”

  “Alex,” the priest began carefully, “this isn’t a mentor program per se. It’s a way to harness friendships, a way to show the kids in here how good life can be without the streets and the drugs and the clubs. You’ve done a marvelous job at showing Jamie that—”

  But Alex shook his head. “I don’t know what you were thinking when you put us together,” he said, talking over the priest. “You knew how he was; he oozes sex from every pore and you knew only a saint could keep from falling for him, and God, Nate, I’m not a saint. I’m far from it.”

  “You don’t have to be,” Father Nate replied. “You just need to be his friend—”

  “I have been,” Alex said. “But I can’t do it anymore. I want more from him and I know it’s wrong of me to want that. I’m supposed to be a big brother, or a teacher, or just a friend, and not…” Not a lover, he added silently. I’m not supposed to want what I want from him. “I’m sorry. I just can’t do it anymore. I hope you understand.”

  Father Nate sighed. Steepling his hands in front of him, he frowned at Alex. “It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”

  “I have,” Alex said, nodding. It was better this way. It was.

  “And nothing I can say will change it,” the priest continued.

  Alex shook his head. “He doesn’t need someone like me. He needs someone who can look at him without wondering what he tastes like, or smells like, or feels like in my arms. You said he needed someone to show him there was more to life than sex, right? And I’ve tried but God, I just can’t. I haven’t touched him, I swear it, but I’m afraid I can’t hold out much longer.”

  “I meant the clubs,” Father Nate said gently. “I meant the casual sex, Alex, not something born of love, not with someone who cares—”

  “I can’t,” Alex said stubbornly. “Jesus, can’t you see? I can’t do it, Nate. I just can’t.”

  He waited, sure the priest would argue with him. Part of him wanted to hear those arguments, wanted them to wear through his own reasoning and crush his defenses and prove to him that it was okay to love Jamie, it was right and it would work out, all of it would, if he only listened to his heart and let Jamie in. He wanted the priest to convince him that he was the one who was wrong, that Jamie needed him like he knew he did.

  Instead, Father Nate simply sighed again, and then turned away. “Okay.”

  Alex felt something in him die at that dismissal. It’s that simple? he wondered. Okay, it’s over and done with, it’s finished?

  The priest wasn’t finished. “You’ve talked this up to yourself,” he said, his tone accusatory, as if Alex had given into those desires that warred within him and had to be dismissed. “Nothing I say will dissuade you, is that it? You have an answer for everything and you’re sure you’re right.”

  With a shrug, Alex opened his mouth to argue but what could he say? This was the right thing to do; it had to be. It wouldn’t hurt so much if it wasn’t.

  “Well, okay.” Father Nate gave Alex a nod so final, it felt absolute. “You want out of the program? Fine. You want to walk out this door and never look back? More power to you. But you’re the one who’s going to tell that boy you won’t be back, do you hear me? You’re going to tell him goodbye, not me.”

  He pinned Alex with a piercing look and waited for Alex’s assent before he added, “He’s outside.”

  As Alex rose from his chair, Nate added, “For what it’s worth, I hope you know that I don’t agree with you. Jamie needs someone who loves him right now, more than he needs anything else, and I think that someone could be you, but you’re just like him—stubborn and scared, and running away won’t change your feelings, Alex. It won’t make him disappear.”

  Leaving the priest behind his desk, Alex trudged into the hallway like a condemned man. God, how was he ever going to tell Jamie?

  Chapter 14

  Alex found Jamie at the far end of the basketball court, shooting hoops by himself. Drifting over, he watched Jamie set up a perfect shot; the ball sailed effortlessly from his hands into the basket. “Hey,” he called out as he approached.

  Jamie glanced over at him as he retrieved the ball, the scowl still on his face. “I thought you had to work,” he said, dribbling back to the free throw line. He turned and aimed for the ba
sket again, but when the ball left his hand Alex knew it was going to miss. It bounced off the rim of the hoop and fell to the ground. “Shit,” Jamie muttered, jogging over to catch the ball.

  “I had some things I had to do today.” Alex shoved his hands into his pockets and hated himself for what he was about to do. In the morning sun Jamie looked almost godlike, lithe and sexy in his tight jeans. He wore a hooded flannel shirt whose sleeves had been torn away and discarded, showing off freckled, ropy arms, and the buttons didn’t start until halfway down his torso. When he leaned over the shirt gaped open invitingly, giving Alex glimpses of the smooth chest beneath it, the hard stomach, the white boxers that peeked out above the waistband of his jeans. “I’m sorry about last night.”

  Slowly Jamie dribbled the ball, watching intently as it struck the black tarmac and then hit his hand, over and over again. “I’m sorry, too,” he said softly. Finally he looked up and grinned crookedly at Alex. “So that’s it? You took the day off to say you’re sorry? How’d that go over with Saundra?”

  With a sigh, Alex said, “I came to say goodbye.”

  Jamie frowned, catching the ball easily as it bounced up into his arms. “Goodbye?” he whispered. “What—”

  “I quit the program.” Suddenly the pain in Jamie’s eyes was too much to bear and Alex turned away, studying the kids playing at the other end of the court. “I just can’t do it, Jamie. I can’t be who I’m supposed to be when you make me feel the way you do. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry,” Jamie said, and Alex nodded. “Sorry.”

  For a minute Alex thought that would be it, Jamie wouldn’t say another word and he’d turn to leave, it would be over between them before it even got started, but then Jamie laughed. Surprised, Alex looked back at Jamie, his eyes bright and the sunshine in his face as he smiled. “So you’re not in the program anymore.” Alex shook his head. “Last night you said we couldn’t do shit because of that damn thing, and now you’re not in it.”

  Alex sighed. Jamie was taking it the wrong way, twisting the situation with his infallible logic. That wasn’t what he meant at all. “Jamie—”

  “So what’s keeping us from hooking up?” Jamie asked, hope ringing clear in his voice. “What’s stopping us now, Alex?”

  “You’re eighteen,” he replied. The anger came back again, clouding Jamie’s brow and pulling those full lips into a pretty pout. “Maybe in a few years, when you’re old enough to know what you want—”

  “I want you,” Jamie said simply. “And you want me, right? I know you do, Alex. I can fucking feel it every time we’re together. Don’t tell me you don’t feel it, too, because that’s a lie. I know you do, you have to. Don’t tell me—”

  “Jamie, please.”

  Alex swallowed against the tears that threatened to choke him. He felt it, all right. A heat warming through him like a wild fire, consuming everything in its path, consuming his very soul when he looked at this guy—he couldn’t deny it.

  But he couldn’t give in. If it hadn’t been for the program, they would’ve never met. And there was a part of him that thought maybe Jamie only liked him because of the program, because he was something different, someone new, and given time, Jamie would find himself back in the clubs, no matter what promises he made today. He said he’d give that up for you, his mind whispered, but Alex couldn’t listen to that. He just couldn’t. “You’re making this harder than it should be. I have to go—”

  “Fuck that,” Jamie cried. He pegged the basketball at Alex, hard, and it hit the fence behind him, mere inches from his shoulder. Red spots of anger colored Jamie’s cheeks, and his eyes were hard as the flecks of mica in the blacktop, winking in the sun. “You said you liked me,” he reminded Alex, his voice terse. “You said it wasn’t the program, it was me. Or didn’t you really mean it?”

  “I meant it,” Alex whispered. “But I can’t…I mean, it’s not right—”

  “Fuck right.” His face bunched with anger and he stepped closer, closing the distance between them.

  Alex backed up against the fence, trying to keep them apart. With a gentleness that belied his anger, Jamie reached out and brushed his cheek with his fingers.

  Alex cringed at the touch. “Jamie, no,” he whispered, pushing the tender hand away. “It’s better this way, believe me. I have to go.”

  “And you won’t be back.”

  It wasn’t a question, but Alex nodded anyway. This was it, this was the end, it was over—he wasn’t coming back.

  Jamie’s voice hardened. “Well, fuck you, then. Fuck you.”

  For a moment something flashed in his eyes and Alex thought he’d kiss him anyway, just once. That would be enough to keep him here, that would be all that he needed to make him stay. He closed his eyes, so ready to apologize again. If Jamie kissed him, it would make everything all right and he’d say he was sorry, he’d promise him the world for just one kiss…

  But Jamie shoved him into the fence as he stormed away and when Alex opened his eyes, he was gone.

  With a sigh he pushed away from the fence and staggered to his car. Gone.

  * * * *

  It was only eleven when Alex got back to his apartment, but the day seemed over already. There was nothing left he wanted to do. He felt drained and exhausted, and he thought he should at least go into the station for the afternoon, but he just didn’t feel up to it. So he dropped his keys on the coffee table as he passed through the living room and kicked off his shoes before heading upstairs. In his room he didn’t bother to cut on the light, just shucked off his jeans and tugged his shirt off over his head, dropping the clothes to the floor as he crawled between the cool sheets. Maybe I can just sleep the rest of my life away, he thought, staring at the ceiling.

  Suddenly the room around him was gray, the world drained of color. He didn’t think it was just the darkness trapped behind the curtains that cast such a pall on everything around him. Maybe I can forget this happened and when I wake up my life will be like it was before I met him, before I ever stepped foot into that shelter and found out someone like him even existed.

  But what had life been like before he met Jamie? Alex couldn’t remember. Was it always this dull, this gray pressing against him, cloying and hungry and sapping his energy away? How had he managed to get out of bed in the morning without the promise of seeing those bright blue eyes sparkle back at him?

  He’s right, he thought in the stillness of his room. There’s something between you two, something you can’t explain and something you’ll never forget, and now that it’s gone how can you live without it? Without him?

  Alex didn’t know. He didn’t think he wanted to know.

  Nate said he needed someone to love him.

  Jamie needed love so badly, he went looking for it in places it didn’t exist, the clubs and the streets and the greedy mouths of guys starved for affection, dying in back alleys and dingy bathrooms where they didn’t belong. And if he had someone to give him that love, that affection, that attention he so desperately needed, then he wouldn’t need the clubs or the alcohol or the boys to make it bearable anymore.

  Not if he had me.

  They both wanted it, didn’t they? Alex could still hear Jamie’s words from the night before. “I’ve tried everything I know, Alex, every way I can imagine to get you to touch me like I know you want to, like we both want you to, and you keep pushing me away.” The pain in those words, the hurt in those eyes…

  He put that there, because Jamie could see how he felt and he knew how Jamie felt for him, it was so obvious it made his whole body ache to think of it, and somehow he still managed to push the guy away. God, Jamie, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t let you in because I was supposed to be the one in control, the one you looked up to and I couldn’t take advantage of that. I just couldn’t.

  But now he was out of the program. He’d told Nate he couldn’t do it anymore, and he told Jamie the same thing. He had to leave because it would hurt too much to stay. Eventually he’d b
reak and he’d give in, he’d touch Jamie in a way he knew he shouldn’t, so he had to quit. It was the only way, wasn’t it? He had to do it.

  So now you’re free, he thought with a frown. His gaze wandered over the familiar objects in his room—an empty hanger on the knob of the closet, the mirror above his dresser that reflected back the ceiling, the window with its blinds pulled shut. He looked around as if looking for confirmation that he’d done the right thing, no matter what. In the end, he hoped Jamie remembered that. He’d done what he thought he had to do. He left—

  You ran away.

  His frown deepened. Had he? Just turned tail and took off? He hoped it didn’t look like that. There was something noble in his actions, there had to be. Quitting never hurt this bad. One day years from now, Jamie would think back to him and realize just what this one unselfish act of his had done—

  Keep telling yourself that, a voice in him scoffed. But it doesn’t make this bed any less lonely and Lord knows it doesn’t dull the pain. Just imagine what he’s feeling right this moment. Do you think he’s praising your restraint? Do you think you’re still the world to him?

  Alex’s gaze fell on the bandanna that still sat on his bedside table, folded into a square of blue. Without realizing it, he reached out and touched the soft cottony fabric. So smooth, beneath his touch. Well-worn and used. When he looked at it, he remembered that day in Jamie’s room at the shelter, the unbearable heat pressing down around him as he sat on the hard cot and watched Jamie make himself presentable. Those eyes, the same color as this cloth, they’d looked up at him with so much hope and promise—not just desire but a hint of something more. Something eternal. Something his.

  You’re free from the program, his mind whispered. Why can’t you still be friends with him? Because you want something more?

  Well, what’s wrong with that?

  Hadn’t that been Jamie’s argument? He said there’s nothing keeping us apart now, and he’s right. I’m not in the program anymore. I can still be his friend. I can still be that and so much more.