Julian
I HOLD MY PHONE to my ear as Susie talks loudly.
“You’re where?”
“Oregon, in a small port town,” I reply, watching the waves below crash into the jagged rocks.
“Jeez,” she breathes. “That’s a far cry from California. How are you holding up? What are you guys doing?”
When we left home, I didn’t bother telling my friends why. All I said was that our circumstances had changed, and I’d contact them when I could.
And that contact happened this morning, when I texted the small group chat we all share, saying that I had settled in fine.
“We’re staying at this modern-day castle, helping some rich family with day-to-day tasks.” My voice doesn’t show any particular emotion: not annoyance or interest.
“Shit, a castle? Good for you, Jules. How’s your dad?”
“He’s good. I don’t see him often, though. He works with the head of the household, so he’s always busy.”
“Can we come out there? Landon and I could catch a flight,” Susie offers, her tone hopeful.
“Maybe,” I answer noncommittally. “Enough about me, though. How’s Cali? How’s Lan?”
Landon has been my best friend since elementary school. We haven’t talked since I left, and even before then, things were kind of tense. We slept together off and on, and it definitely made for some awkward tension.
It didn’t ruin our relationship, though. We’re still best friends, even if it’s hard to see his face and not imagine how he looks when he’s coming on my dick.
“He’s good! He quit his job at Burger King once you left, but now he’s working for his dad or something,” Susie fills me in.
“Good for him,” I say. “And you? Are you still showing up for your classes?”
Susie goes to the community college in our hometown, studying some kind of science degree. I used to help her a lot when it came to math, and those frequent hang-out sessions led my father to believe she was in love with me.
Susie is, in fact, very lesbian.
“You know it, baby,” she responds cheerfully. “I was serious, though, about coming to see you. Is there a hotel in that small port?”
“Let me get back to you on that,” I joke.
“Are you telling me you’ve yet to explore the town?!”
“I’ve been working!”
Susie snorts, and I can see her eyes rolling in my mind. “You’re ridiculous. Get out there, dude. Get laid!”
My mind flashes to Atlas on his knees in that chapel, his big blue eyes crowded with tears as he peered up at me.
Oh, Susie, you have no idea how badly I want that.
Maybe she’s on to something. Maybe this attraction I have to my boss’s son will fade if I go into town and fuck a local.
“You’re right,” I finally respond. “Maybe I will tomorrow. We don’t typically work on weekends.”
“So what have you been doing every weekend since you got there, what, a month ago?”
“Seven weeks ago,” I correct. “And nothing, I guess. Hanging out with the staff? Hiding in my bedroom?”
I plop down on the dead grass below me, trying not to chatter around the cold wind.
“Sounds boring as shit. Are you spending Christmas there too? Or are you coming home?” Susie asks.
“Probably here. Flights are expensive, my dear.”
Susie sighs, and in the background, I hear a door slam. “That’s lame. We’ll miss you if that’s not obvious. And—oh, Lan just got back from the gym. I’m going to be a good roomie and make him some dinner. Talk later?”
“Sure,” I say, something hot and sorrowful twisting at my gut. “Talk later.”
As the call disconnects, I’m overcome with an intense feeling of missing out. Of being excluded, even as it was my decision to leave. Or, as much of a decision as I can pretend it was.
And Landon? I miss him. I miss when he’d show up at my house, desperate for my company: whether that meant video games or fucking each other’s brains out. Or when he’d call me just to talk my ear off about his day.
I miss my best friend.
But distance adds an extra strain, and when I left, we were in another awkward phase. One where he wanted more, and I didn’t.
It’d be nice, them coming to visit. I can’t invite them to Chastain Castle, obviously, but I can certainly head into town and see them.
Speaking of heading into town… Port Orford isn’t just old people, right?
I really, really need to get laid.
A knock sounds at my bedroom door later the next day, as I get myself ready to go into the heart of Port Orford for the first time since we moved here.
Making sure I’m fully decent in my blue jeans and my brown button-up, I head toward the door.
Some part of me hopes it’ll be Atlas, though I know that is a ludicrous notion.
Not only has he never found himself in Hall E2, not that I’ve been made aware of, but I haven’t seen him since yesterday morning, when I caught him in the chapel, crying.
The air in the room was thick with humidity and heat, and I’ve found that it seems to be that way in every room Atlas occupies. Like a walking space heater, I burn up in his presence.
I wanted to fix it. I wanted to heal whatever it is inside of him that’s forcing him to his knees in front of the giant statue of Jesus on a cross.
Now, I’m not a religious guy, but it’s clear that Atlas has some deep-rooted belief that he needs the forgiveness of a higher power. To each their own, I guess. I just wish I could prevent him from feeling so guilty, so bad about himself.
One second, he’s dripping confidence and exuding sex appeal, and now, I’ve seen the next second, where he’s a crumbling mess on the red-carpeted floor.
Could he have come to find me to thank me for wiping his tears? Or maybe he wants… something else? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen it—that look in his eyes that screams, “Fuck me until I cry, Julian!” But I could be imagining things.
Because sometimes, when I’m with him, his eyes also seem to be warning me away.
But alas, as I open my bedroom door, it’s just my father.
“Julie,” he says, pushing his way inside. “What are you getting ready for?”
He takes stock of my pressed shirt and the leather jacket I have lying over the end of my bed. My combed hair, my wallet that is sitting on the dresser.
“I was actually about to come find you. Can I borrow the truck?” As I ask, Dad raises a brow. “I’m going to check out the town. Or the port? I’m not sure what they call it here.”
Dad huffs out a small laugh, fishing in his pockets for the keys. “Okay, sure. I can’t believe you waited this long to go out.”
“Well, I’m under the impression that there’s just a bunch of old people here. Might as well check, though.”
“Might as well,” Dad agrees. “Talk to me before you go. How are things? I feel like we never see each other.”
He plops down next to my jacket, moving it out of his way. I lean back against my dresser, sighing softly.
“Things are good. I get along well with Abigail, though Atticus is still cold toward me,” I admit.
“You’re calling them by their titles, right? I know it’s weird and feels old school, but I think Oscar would die if he heard you call the young missus Abigail.”
“Yes, Dad,” I snort. “I’m doing my job. How is it working for Abraham?”
Dad shrugs, picking at the sleeve of my jacket. “Good. He’s a kind man, though he does run me ragged. Did you know he works almost all day, every day? If it wasn’t in our contract that we get weekends off, I think I’d be working right now. He sure as hell is.”
“That’s nuts,” I reply, shaking my head. “Have they mentioned what we’re meant to do for the holiday?”
“You mean Christmas?” Dad looks confused. “No… but I’m not sure what you mean.”
I shrug. “Like, I know we can’t afford to go home, but are we allowed to stay here? Or should I check hotel prices in town while I’m out?”
It’s silent for a moment before my father bursts out laughing.
“Julian, you’re killing me,” he says. “Of course we get to stay here. We’re live-in employees. We have nowhere else to go, and they know that. Now, we’ll be bored as all hell, I’m sure, but they won’t kick us out.”
My body relaxes slightly at his words. Ever since Susie brought it up, I’ve been a little anxious about it. I know the Chastains will be spending the day together, but I wasn’t sure what we’d be doing.
“We’re not doing presents this year, right?” I ask, giving my father a pointed look.
He sighs. “Not this year, no. Too much going on, and not really a bunch of shopping options.”
Nodding, I reply, “Good, good. We can just drink hot chocolate and watch movies in the theatre or something.”
“Sounds nice.” Dad grins. A moment later, he clears his throat. “Have you heard from your friends? I haven’t heard you mention them since we got here.”
I grab my jacket from the bed and slip it on, shoving my wallet in my pocket.
“Yeah,” I murmur. “Susie called yesterday. I think she and Landon might come see Port Orford sometime.”
“That’s great!” Dad beams. “It’ll be good for you to spend time with someone older than nine years old.”
I laugh at that, taking the keys from his outstretched hand. “I agree. Atticus wants nothing to do with me, and Atlas—”
I abruptly stop speaking. Jesus, what was I about to tell my father? That he barely approaches me, and when I consider approaching him, all I want to do is peel those little sheer blouses right off of him?
Dad looks at me pointedly. “I know he’s an anomaly, and you’re curious, but remember the rules. He’s our boss’s son, and we need this job.”
It’s as if he’s read my mind. I didn’t have to say anything. Apparently, my face said it for me.
“I know,” I answer shortly. “I barely see him.”
Dad seems satisfied with this answer, standing from the bed where he stretches his arms above his head. Then, he pats my shoulder.
“Alright, Julie,” he says. “Have fun. Let me know how it goes. I’m going to take a much-needed nap.”
My father slips out of the room without another word, and I spend a few minutes adjusting the short strands of my dark hair, running my fingers over my freshly shaved face. I have a feeling that if I let my five o’clock shadow grow out, Oscar might have a heart attack.
When I’m convinced I look presentable enough to attract any young, hot singles I find in the area, I grab my phone off the nightstand and head out.