Chapter 3 #2
Jem almost said, Like we talked about your parents getting divorced?
But he didn’t.
Instead, he groaned. He melted. He died and almost face-planted in the tater-tot nachos.
Laughing, Tean scratched the back of Jem’s neck. But his voice was serious when he said, “All I want to say is that you don’t owe her any sort of reconciliation or relationship. If you don’t want to go to a family dinner, you don’t have to go.”
“I kind of do owe her, actually,” Jem said, sitting up and attacking the tater tots again. Around a mouthful of crispy potato, he said, “I cashed all those checks she sent me, didn’t I?”
“She sent you those checks because she wanted to,” Tean said. “Accepting the money doesn’t impose any obligation.”
“Well, it sure fucking feels like it does,” Jem said. And then, for a change of topic, he pointed at Tean’s bowl. “Can you please eat, like, one bite?”
Tean frowned. It made the glasses scoot along the bridge of his nose. His bushy eyebrows drew together. Finally, he took a bite.
Jem waited.
“It’s very good,” Tean said.
“Oh my God. You have to eat half of it, or no books before bed.”
A tiny smile creased the corner of Tean’s mouth, and he took another bite.
Jem’s phone buzzed. When he glanced at it, a message from his—from Brigitte showed on the screen. One of the words was new—Kolen—so it took him longer than usual to read it, and then he had to look it up on his phone. Apparently, it was a lodge near Deer Valley.
“So, this intimate family dinner is an hour away. Someplace outside Park City.”
Tean watched him, slowly chewing.
“Why do we have to drive all the way to Park City for a family dinner?” Jem said. “There aren’t any intimate family restaurants here?”
Scipio nudged Jem’s leg, and Jem slipped him a tater tot.
Tean’s bushy eyebrows went up.
“Just one,” Jem said absently. “That’s an hour there and an hour back.”
“We don’t have to go.”
“Plus however long dinner takes.”
Tean put down his fork.
“What’s that going to be? Four hours? Five? Did she even think about the fact that we’d have to leave Scipio alone the whole time?”
“Scipio is fine on his own. He just sleeps.”
“Did she think about the fact that we might need to get a dog-sitter?”
“He doesn’t need a dog-sitter.”
“No. That’s the answer: no, she didn’t think about any of that. She just assumed I’d take five, six, seven hours out of my day to go have an intimate family dinner.”
“What if you explain that you’d like to go to dinner, but tomorrow night isn’t good for you?”
“And that’s if it doesn’t snow. Can you imagine what it would be like, trying to get there in a blizzard?
Trying to get home? Sometimes people are stuck in their cars for ten, twelve hours.
” Jem’s plate was empty now. He made his way around the breakfast bar and dropped it in the sink, and the clatter made Scipio jerk his head. “Scipio can’t hold it that long!”
Tean took a slow breath. “It sounds like you don’t want to go.”
“I didn’t say that!”
“Okay, I know, but—”
“I’m saying she’s inconsiderate. She didn’t even think about—” Me, Jem almost said. She didn’t think about me. “—about any of that. And I’m supposed to drop everything for this stupid dinner.”
Tean’s mouth was an unhappy line. Somehow, his eyebrows looked bushier than ever, and behind the glasses, the hollows around his eyes were bruised. Scipio stood watching them, head down, shoulders hunched.
“I just—” Jem realized he was still holding a napkin. He wadded it up and threw it in the trash can. “It feels like a lot.”
Tean nodded.
“I’m sorry I yelled.”
“Jem, it is a lot. Emotions are complicated. Of course you’re feeling conflicted.”
Which was a lot to take in from Teancum Leon, considering nowadays Jem didn’t know when he came home if he’d find Tean trying to cover up signs that he’d been crying or lying in total silence on the couch or—one time—shouting at Scipio.
Considering he lost his shit when Daniel called, when anybody could tell the kid just wanted somebody to hold on to.
Considering his parents were getting divorced, and he’d hung up on his mom, and he’d snapped that door shut as soon as he opened it.
Considering Jem didn’t have any idea these days what Tean was going to do.
“Yeah.” Jem gave an unhappy laugh. “I guess I should just feel my feelings.”
The curve of Tean’s mouth deepened.
“God,” Jem said. “That was shitty. I didn’t mean that.”
“It’s okay.”
“I know you’re trying to help.” He waited, like something better might come to mind. When it didn’t, he rubbed Scipio’s ears. “I’m going to rinse off.”
Tean nodded, and Jem retreated to the bathroom.
He showered. And after the shower, in a fresh pair of boxers and a clean tee, he climbed into bed and stared at his phone. This would have been a great time to zonk out with Candy Crush or Wizard Cheeseburger 3, but instead, he opened his mail.
Nothing.
Spam, sure.
But nothing.
No responses. Not even rejections. Ten applications every day. Ten minimum. And his inbox was still this big gaping nothing.
Because other people didn’t miss out on high school while they were in juvie. Because other people went to college. Or they learned a trade. Or fuck, they got a real job, a legit job, instead of jacking around running games on people who were too stupid to live.
The first foster mom who’d let him skip school—called him in sick, actually, because she didn’t want the school to worry—had seemed so cool.
She’d told him to call her Brandy. He’d been older, looking back, when he’d realized she’d been high as a kite and barely more than a kid herself.
Later, he’d skipped when he wanted to skip, because either the foster parents didn’t care, or they didn’t want to put up the fight, or they were already planning on sending him back.
Other kids didn’t grow up like that. They slept in the same bed every night.
Their parents made sure they ate dinner, did their chores, finished their homework.
The click of nails on the hardwood floor announced Scipio a few seconds before the Lab jumped on the bed.
He turned around a couple of times, checking out his spot, and then dropped down—managing in the process to press himself against Jem.
From the front of the house came the sounds of lights being turned off, and then boards creaked as Tean made his way to their room.
“Thanks for dinner,” Jem said. “I’m sorry I was such a bitch.”
Tean’s laugh had a hint of startle to it, and then a smile grew on his face. He sat next to Scipio and put his hand on Jem’s thigh.
Jem waggled his eyebrows.
It was still so easy to make Tean blush, but the doc only said, “You don’t have to feel any way about her or about this dinner or about anything.
And you don’t have to have a relationship with her—any kind of relationship—unless you want to.
” He touched the glasses like he might adjust them, but they stayed right where they were.
“That’s it. That’s all. I promise I’m done. ”
Jem’s hair was still wet when he put his hands behind his head. After a moment, he said, “Your parents are getting divorced.”
Struggle tightened Tean’s face for a moment. “It’s going to be such a mess. Amos is going to lose his mind.”
It still wasn’t a real thing, what he’d said. It was still an outside thing. Still a shell.
Jem said, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“I’m sorry again.”
Tean huffed a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. “Jem, please don’t be sorry.”
“Also, full disclosure, I’ve got this weird horniness going on because tonight has been way too emotional, and I want to do terrible things to your body.”
“Terrible like gay sex? Or terrible like cannibalism?”
“Gay sex. Definitely gay sex.”
Tean made a noise like he was considering the offer.
Jem was already bucking out of his boxers and trying, at the same time, to reach for the lamp.
“Scipio,” Tean said, laughing. “Off.”
The Lab slid off the bed with a disgruntled look.
And Jem’s last thought before he started paying close attention to Tean was that somehow, thank God, he hadn’t had to lie about Ammon.