CHAPTER 14
Looking in the mirror, Jeremy decided that everything was perfect for the wedding except for one huge potential disaster, meaning that nothing was perfect. That was how disasters worked; they were the pineapple on the pizza of events. Only one ingredient was needed to make the whole thing inedible.
All in all, Jeremy thought he’d scrubbed up pretty well.
He was wearing the new suit and shirt he’d bought as part of the makeover component of the campaign – forest green with wide lapels, a white linen shirt left open at the neck, old-fashioned brown loafers.
He wasn’t too humble to admit that the colour perfectly complemented his black hair (slicked back into a semblance of neatness for the occasion) and made his hazel eyes pop.
Miles had always said that before he met Jeremy he’d thought hazel eyes were a myth, so naturally Jeremy would be wearing this suit to the reunion too.
He’d contemplated a pocket square or a tie, or even a brooch, but instead he’d gone for two dangly pearl earrings as his only statement accessories.
He looked classy and like he wasn’t trying too hard: both things that weren’t actually true.
The wedding, as he and Sam had plotted, would be the perfect trial run for the reunion.
He’d turn up looking beautiful, with Giraffrey, the most beautiful and boring man in the world, on his arm, and he’d practise being a better version of himself.
According to Patsie’s social media strategy, the wedding would also serve as an optimal time to ‘soft launch’ Giraffrey on Instagram.
The problem was that Geoffrey the giraffe scientist was an hour late, and Jeremy’s cool-guy attempts at sussing him out via text ( Hey angel – just wondering about your ETA? Cya soon! ) had gone unanswered.
The wedding was in the highlands, a two-hour drive away, and Jeremy famously didn’t have a car, so he couldn’t stress how fucked he’d be if his date didn’t show up.
Plus, his mum would give him that sorrowful look that said, ‘I literally asked for one thing from you, just one thing,’ which would later turn into a kind of condescending pity.
The whole revenge rehearsal would be ruined if he didn’t have his stupendously attractive giraffe scientist with him.
Jeremy realised he was spiralling and went and got a glass of water.
He stood in the kitchen drinking it and staring blankly at the wall.
He’d already checked the texts where they’d worked out the details, in case he’d accidentally sent the wrong time or the wrong date.
Then he did the unthinkable and called Geoffrey.
The phone rang out. But then, confusingly, a picture came through – a blurry photo of a bird.
What does that mean? Where are you? wrote Jeremy, his teeth gritted so hard he could hear grinding in his skull.
Another photo of a different bird came through, this time with some ocean in the background and a long hiking track disappearing into the distance.
ARE YOU COMING TO THE WEDDING? Jeremy texted, channelling his mother’s message style. Gays only texted in all caps when they were VERY distressed.
There was no answer.
He tried to call again, and it rang out.
Jeremy paced around the kitchen, trying to work out what he was meant to do now.
He could go alone and just hang out with his mum and try to weather the pity of being unable to hang on to yet another boyfriend – that would be fine, if not enjoyable – except he couldn’t drive there, and the regional train would take far too long.
He could cancel, but that would actively piss off his mum.
An Uber would be an astronomical price, and the idea of two hours of small talk was even more terrifying.
Emergency , he texted Sam, almost intuitively, before immediately regretting it.
He’d been dodging Sam’s messages since the whole ‘pash and panic’ thing at Mardi Gras, over two weeks ago now.
Every time he thought of that night, his stomach squirmed with anxiety.
He’d told Anna and Liz about the kiss, having needed to explain his escaping the suddenly claustrophobic confines of the party.
But in the days after, he’d spun it as a drunken mishap, laughing about how funny it was that he’d ever thought Sam was straight, and continually calling it all a ‘messy night’.
‘Oh, I’m so embarrassed! I was so messy!
’ he kept saying, sometimes even implying he’d been so ‘wasted’ that he’d had to vomit.
But the reality was his embarrassment was about both the kiss and the subsequent escape.
It was humiliating to have thrown himself at Sam when he wasn’t even attracted to him, when they were both there with other people.
Of course, he’d said none of this to Sam, keeping his replies minimal and non-committal, and refusing many invitations to meet up, and gradually the texts had dried up, which made Jeremy feel both relieved and indescribably bad.
So, he was a little surprised when a text came back almost straight away.
Are the characters in your TV shows being mean to each other again? Sam wrote, referring to a particularly embarrassing evening when Jeremy had cried during a re-watch of Game of Thrones .
Giraffe man DISAPPEARED! Wedding today!!! Everything ruined! wrote Jeremy. Panicking!!!!
On my way , Sam wrote back.
No, it’s fine , answered Jeremy, but no word came back.
Fifteen minutes later, after more pacing and some desperate public transport googling, he answered a knock and found Sam in the doorway, smiling shyly and wearing a simple black suit and tie, and white sneakers that kept the look from being too funereal.
He was, Jeremy was ready to admit, handsome as all hell, his usual rough stubble shaved to a cleaner look, his thick hair glossy and wild, the suit pants perfectly moulded to his strong legs and the roundness of his ass, the jacket fitted to the breadth of his shoulders.
‘Wow. What?’ asked Jeremy stupidly. ‘What are you … doing?’
‘It’s wedding time,’ stated Sam in the fashion of a Power Ranger, before looking intently at Jeremy.
The way his eyes lingered on him, sweeping up slowly before stopping on his face, made Jeremy self-conscious.
The way his sharp gaze softened into a small smile, however, had him on the verge of blushing.
‘U-uh,’ stammered Jeremy. ‘You look respectable for a change.’ He grabbed Sam by the shoulders and twisted him around to inspect him.
When he tried to let go, it was like his hands were somehow glued to Sam’s biceps, or attached by magnetism.
Good lord, he had to get fucked soon, because he was getting desperately horny about the first guy to turn up in a nice suit.
‘I hope it’s okay,’ Sam said. ‘It’s the only suit I have – bought it for my grandad’s funeral.’
‘You look perfect,’ said Jeremy truthfully. ‘But honestly, you do not need to come! I don’t even know these people. We’ll mostly be hanging with my mum – it’s going to be stupendously dull.’
‘Too much is at stake,’ said Sam with mock gravitas.
‘Every campaigner knows that sometimes, when something falls through at the last moment, you just have to get in there and do it yourself. Besides, it will be fun. And you know, I haven’t seen you since Mardi Gras, so I had to check you hadn’t fallen down a well and were too embarrassed to ask for help. ’
Sam’s tone was casual, but when he mentioned Mardi Gras, his thick eyebrows narrowed with intention that was at odds with his words.
Jeremy laughed slightly too loudly and blew his cheeks out. ‘Yeah, I’m probably still recovering. Blergh! So messy, but welcome to Mardi Gras! Did you have a good time? Do you feel at one with your community?’
Sam nodded, and Jeremy could tell he was disappointed. He was probably still feeling awkward about Jeremy being so slutty and forward.
That had to be it.
‘Well, just so you know, you absolutely do not have to do this,’ Jeremy said, changing the subject back to the present.
‘And I don’t remember the name of anyone there, so I will be doing that thing where I say, “Have you met my boyfriend Sam?” and make them introduce themselves to you.
Oh …’ He realised what he’d just said. ‘Sorry, no, you don’t have to pretend to be my boyfriend – that’s too much. ’
‘No, no, it’s what I expected,’ Sam said, waving away the awkwardness. ‘In many ways, I’m just as invested in this plan as you. This is going to be fun. It will be like one of those Christmas movies on Netflix. I’ll be your fake boyfriend and teach you how to love the festive season.’
‘Bah humbug!’ said Jeremy. ‘But seriously, I feel silly asking you for help so often. I’m sure you’re getting sick of me being so weak!’
‘The strongest people I know ask those they care about for help,’ Sam responded sincerely, with a small smile.
Jeremy felt himself smiling broadly. It was one thing to watch Sam put himself out there for other people, but it was another thing entirely to be on the receiving end of it again.
He really was a spectacular person. But just because he could acknowledge that, didn’t mean Jeremy was attracted to him.
And even if he was – which he was pretty sure he wasn’t – that didn’t mean Sam was attracted to him.
And even if they were mutually attracted, just because two people could sleep together, didn’t mean they wanted to .
But then again, here Sam was dropping everything to squire him to a wedding.
But then again! He routinely did nice things for everyone in his life.
‘Okay,’ Sam said, interrupting Jeremy’s silent spiral, ‘if you’re ready, let’s go – but I’m driving, so I’m choosing the music.’
That was how Jeremy found himself in the passenger seat of Sam’s car – not electric or powered by wind or anything like he’d half assumed – Taylor Swift blaring. Sam, unselfconsciously, was singing along as he checked Google Maps on his phone.