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Evan spent half the day trying to convince himself he wasn’t going to hear from Jeremy and the rest of it trying not to worry that he hadn’t. Which was all on top of a full workday that included a viewing that made him feel like someone had carved his heart out with a rusty spoon. It was for a sixteen-year-old who’d been killed in a car crash. The grieving family and friends made him want to cry, and the reminder that Evan’s parents wouldn’t give a flying shit if he died made him feel sorry for himself. He was in a foul mood by the time he got home; torn between feeling grateful he didn’t have to deal with people for the rest of the night and miserable because he wanted someone to come home to.
It felt good to strip out of his suit and take a shower. He thought about Jeremy’s hazel eyes and up-to-something smile while he was in there. But it didn’t make him feel any better. Or any less alone.
He sprawled on his bed after the shower, dressed in boxers and a T-shirt, and wondered if it was weird to poke around on the internet and see what he could dig up about Jeremy’s car accident. Although nothing ever truly disappeared on the internet, all he found were broken links and other news articles involving men named Jeremy Lewis. Turns out it was a relatively common name, especially in a city as large as Atlanta. And since it had happened fifteen years ago, it wasn’t exactly fresh news. Evan winced when he realized he’d been in kindergarten when the accident happened. Weird. But the age difference didn’t make him like Jeremy any less.
He’d convinced himself he should try to forget about Jeremy altogether by the time his phone chirped with a text message. He never got texts from anyone but Russ, so he was surprised to see an unfamiliar number. He assumed it was a wrong number until he read the message, and even then, he had to read it three times to be sure it was real.
Evan? It’s Jeremy. Thanks for the help getting home.
His stomach did a weird flip when he realized leaving his number had worked. As much as he’d hoped otherwise, deep down, he’d never expected to hear from Jeremy.
Welcome. Wanted to be sure you were okay.
There was a long pause before Jeremy responded. Hope I didn’t say anything stupid. I get loopy when I’m in pain & my short-term memory’s crap.
Man, that had to suck. Still, at least Jeremy had remembered him. He hesitated a moment before he replied.
Nah, you were fine. Guess I’m lucky you remembered me.
His phone lay still and silent for so long Evan began to wonder if Jeremy was offended by his text. He took a deep breath before he read the response.
You’re pretty hard to forget, kid.
He should have been annoyed at Jeremy calling him a kid, but it had sounded teasing when he said it out loud the night before. Playful. Like a private joke between them. A pet name. Evan had never had a pet name before.
Ditto. Evan hesitated before he sent another text. What are you up to tonight?
Watching TV. Don’t be jealous of my exciting life.
Evan sent an LOL and a smiley face then wondered if it was too childish, but Jeremy replied a moment later. What are you doing?
Same. Just got home from work & took a shower.
The phone was silent for a long time. You know, in another life, I’d think you were flirting.
HA! I’m terrible at flirting. Evan worried his lip until he tasted the coppery sharpness of blood. Would if I were any good, though, he added before he hit send.
There was an even longer pause this time, and the response made his heart sink. Bad idea. Trust me, kid.
Sorry.
The response was kind, but it didn’t change anything. Not your fault. I’m a mess.
You seemed fine last night.
Once again, the phone was silent for so long, Evan was sure he’d never get a response. When he finally got it, it surprised him.
I fucking hate texting. Want to explain but am going cross-eyed staring at the damn screen.
So call.
Evan didn’t actually expect Jeremy to do it, so when the phone rang, he dropped it. In his haste to grab the phone, it shot off the bed and landed with a clatter on the floor. He scrambled to get a grip, fumbling with the screen when he answered the call.
“Shit, sorry!” he said breathlessly.
“What exactly are you doing over there, kid?” Jeremy’s voice was every bit as nice as the night before: warm, teasing, but not as if he was making fun of Evan. More like he and Evan were sharing a joke.
“Noth—nothing,” he stammered. Oh, God, what if Jeremy thought I was jerking off? he thought. “I dropped my phone.”
“Just teasing you.”
“Oh.”
“So.” For the first time, Jeremy sounded unsure. “Look, I’m at a disadvantage here. You remember everything about last night and ... I don’t.”
“Um, that has to suck.”
Jeremy’s sigh made Evan’s chest ache. “Yeah, it does,” Jeremy finally said. “It really does.”
“So, what do you remember?”
“I remember a pretty little twink who doesn’t think he’s anything special.”
“I wish you’d forgotten that part.” Evan lay back, staring up at the ceiling.
Jeremy chuckled. “I remember telling you how wrong you are too.”
Evan laughed nervously, remembering Jeremy touching his face, flirting with him. “You meant it?”
“Yes.”
Not knowing what else to say, Evan changed the subject. “Um, what else do you remember from last night?”
“I know we started to talk about my accident, but that’s about it. It’s all kind of hazy after.”
“You were talking about your parents and stuff, about them pretty much ignoring the fact you’re gay.”
“Oh, yeah.” Jeremy’s laugh was bitter. “No wonder I got a fucking migraine.”
“Do you get them a lot?”
“A lot less than I used to, but yesterday, I did something to my leg when I worked out. Then, I worked a full day before going to the engagement party. The migraines are more likely if I’m tired, in pain, or I’ve overexerted myself. Or if I’m stressed. Yesterday was pretty much all of those things combined.”
“It was weird, you kind of ... started stumbling over your words and slurring them a little.”
“Yeah, that’s the migraine. My leg was bugging me most of the day, and I should have taken meds for it. I should have noticed the headache coming on too, but I was distracted.”
He frowned. “Distracted by what?”
“You.”
The word hung in the silence between them, and Evan felt his heart thump a little faster in his chest. “Really?” he finally croaked.
“Yeah, really. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a night like that.” Evan could hear Jeremy swallow. “Meeting someone and clicking with them.”
“I’ve ... never had it.” He swallowed hard. “I mean, not until last night.”
Jeremy sighed. “Oh, kid.”
“What?”
“You make me wish things were different.”
“Like what?”
“Never mind.” Jeremy sighed again. “Do you want to hear the rest of the story or not?”
“Sure.” Evan shrugged even though Jeremy couldn’t see him. “I mean, I definitely do, but I don’t want you to get another migraine.”
Jeremy chuckled, and Evan heard rustling sounds, as if he was shifting to get more comfortable. “I’ll be all right. I slept until three in the afternoon, swam, and made myself dinner. Nothing too stressful. I don’t want to bore you to tears though.”
“Nothing you say could be boring,” Evan said before he could catch himself.
“Really? Are you sure? I can go into the closing schedule at the sporting goods store I manage. Tell you all the excruciating details of how to tally sales and—”
“Okay, maybe I was wrong,” Evan admitted, feeling brave enough to tease Jeremy just a little.
Jeremy laughed. “Thought so.”
“So ... your family?”
“Yeah.” Jeremy’s voice went flat. “They ignored my sexuality until I moved in with Stephen. When I did, they stopped paying for college and pretty much cut me out of their lives completely. Then the accident happened. Legally, they were my next of kin, so they made all the decisions when I couldn’t. Stephen ... he couldn’t do anything. I have this vague memory of seeing him in the hospital, so I know they let him be there for a while, but I’m sure they treated him like shit. According to him, I told him to leave and that I didn’t want him there, but I have no memory of it. I was drugged to the gills, and I’d had a couple surgeries on my leg and was still recovering from the head injury. I was in no shape to make any kind of decision. My parents took advantage of my condition. They blamed Stephen for my accident. Later, I realized they flat out lied to me, but at the time, I believed what they said. I cut Stephen out of my life, and that was the end of things.”
By the time Jeremy was done, Evan’s chest ached. “That’s horrible.”
Jeremy cleared his throat. “So when they realized I was going to need round-the-clock care, they dumped me in a rehab facility. I mean, I would’ve had to go anyway, but they didn’t visit, didn’t do anything to make sure the care was good. They let me rot there. And when I didn’t get better, they wrote me off as a vegetable. I was their crippled, brain-damaged gay son, and they washed their hands of me.”
“Jesus,” Evan breathed, horrified by the idea.
“Didn’t get a lot of help from him either,” Jeremy said drily. “Well, who knows? Maybe fate or Jesus or whatever the fuck was looking out for me because, at some point, the facility I was in got shut down. I was transferred to the Shepherd Center in Atlanta—right down the road from where I live now, actually.
“I think I probably would have died at the other place. I should have been doing intensive physical therapy, occupational therapy, all of it. But they had me so drugged up I could barely do any of it. I got an infection that fucked up my leg even more. Once I was at the Shepherd Center, they put me on the right set of meds, and I finally felt like myself again.” There was silence for a moment. “Well, a crippled version of myself.”
“You’re not crippled,” Evan protested. “You’ve got a limp, and you get headaches, right? Unless there’s something else ...”
“No, I’m a hell of a lot better now. But five years out from the accident, I could still barely walk. I used a cane, I couldn’t remember the shit I’d done the day before, and I sure as hell couldn’t live alone. I was in a residential program the Shepherd Center has in Decatur for a while, then they helped me find a job and a place to live in Atlanta, and I went through their outpatient program. It was a long, slow, expensive process. There was a lawsuit against the first rehab facility, a class action suit. I ended up with a chunk of money from the settlement, and it helped pay for my medical bills. I’ll still be paying them off until I’m about ninety, but it was enough to make it manageable.” Jeremy cleared his throat. “Anyway, the lawsuit is how Stephen tracked me down. I guess he’d been looking for me the whole time.”
“Wow. How did seeing him go?”
“Terrible. God, I still had some pretty bad anger management issues at that point. It was a side effect of the TBI.”
“TBI?”
“Traumatic brain injury. I—I’m not great at explaining it, but because the accident did some damage to the impulse control area of my brain, I had a hard time regulating my emotions. If I got mad or frustrated or depressed, it was more extreme than someone who hadn’t had the TBI, if that makes sense.”
“Yeah, it does.”
“I still have kind of a short fuse when I get pissed, but that was true even before the accident.”
“It’s okay.” Evan shifted onto his stomach, balling up a pillow to shove under his chest. “So you and Stephen didn’t try to get back together? If he was looking for you ... I mean, he must have had feelings for you.”
“Nah. As I said, I was still a mess then. We caught up with each other a little and figured out it was my parents who pushed him out of my life and lied to me. They told me he wouldn’t give me the money to fix my brakes and that he abandoned me after the accident. I was so fucked up from the head injury and painkillers, I believed them. None of it was true, of course. Once I learned the truth, I stopped being pissed at him, but I didn’t have any interest in getting back together. We parted on decent terms, I guess. When we ran into each other again a few months ago, we hashed through some more stuff, and now, we’re friends. I never would have pictured that happening, but I’m glad it did.”
“Wow. That’s ...”
“A boring as hell story?” Jeremy asked.
“No, not at all. It’s just awful. I can’t believe you didn’t have anyone there for you.”
“Well, to be honest, not a hell of a lot has changed since then, kid. No amount of money would be enough for me to see the people who gave birth to me, even if they were suddenly accepting of me being gay. I don’t date; I don’t have any close friends. I ... I go to work, I work out, and I come home and watch TV. It’s pretty fucking pathetic, but it beats being dead or a vegetable, I guess, so I’m grateful.”
Evan latched onto the one phrase that caught his attention. “You don’t date?”
Jeremy’s laugh was humorless. “No. Guys aren’t exactly beating down the door to have me. Chicks may dig scars, but so many gay men are vain, Evan. They want young, pretty things like you, not scarred men in their mid-thirties. If I was rich, maybe, but I have a mediocre middle management retail job and never-ending medical debt.”
Evan shook his head. Maybe some gay guys were vain, but not all of them. Not him. He’d kill to have a guy like Jeremy interested in him. Didn’t Jeremy see it was the other way around? Evan was the boring, plain one. He was the one no one was interested in.
“Well, they’re not beating down my door either, and I haven’t met anyone since I moved here. Russ is probably sick of me, and I have zero other friends outside work.”
“We’re a pair. Pathetic, aren’t we?”
Evan laughed although the words stung. “I guess. But maybe—if you wanted—we could be pathetic ... together?”
“Are you asking me out, kid?”
Evan pushed away the anxiety and summoned up the courage to say, “N-no. No. I was asking if you wanted to hang out as friends.”
He heard Jeremy’s sigh of relief. “Yeah ... yeah, friends I can handle. Nothing else though, Evan. I meant it when I said I don’t date. Ever. Not that I’m not tempted, and please don’t take it personally, but it’s ... not something I can do, okay?”
“Okay.” Evan swallowed his disappointment. “Friends is cool. So, um, what would you like to do?”
“Well, I have the closing shift tomorrow. What time do you get out of work?”
“Oh, uh, depending on how late the viewing runs, I’ll probably be out by ten.”
Jeremy sounded confused. “Viewing? Where do you work?”
“Oh, um, Harmon and Sons Funeral Home.”
“Creepy.” Jeremy sounded more impressed than creeped out, which made Evan smile. “How the hell did you get into that?”
“It’s a long story,” Evan said with a sigh. Jeremy must have forgotten that he’d mentioned working at his uncle’s funeral home the night before.
“Well, I know my exciting social life might lead you to believe otherwise, but I’m not going anywhere.”
Evan smiled again and got comfortable. “So, my uncle owns a funeral home in the town where I grew up.”