by TJ Klune
Now, it should be said that Josiah Erickson had thought about this moment before. Granted, it’d always been late at night just before he dropped off to sleep, a little flight of fancy that left a smile on his face. He knew that even if he worked as hard as he could, sometimes dreams stayed just that: dreams. At most, he hoped he could become one of those actors that everyone vaguely recognized but didn’t know from where. He’d always told himself that it’d be better that way, so he could go to the grocery store in the middle of the night after some good bong rips to get Cheetos without being hounded by gaggles of fans.
But dreams were dreams for a reason. They were a happy place, a wish for something more.
And here, now, were two giggling teenage girls making his dream come true in a small town in Oregon where everything was apparently made of pumpkin spice.
“Are you crying?” Quincy asked incredulously.
“No,” Josy mumbled, wiping his eyes. “The We Three Queens must have used more onions than they should have again.” He blinked rapidly up at the girls. “You really want my autograph?”
They nodded furiously.
“So bad,” the girl on the left said.
“You don’t even know,” the girl on the right said.
So he learned their names (Kristina and Becca). He signed their napkins (THANK YOU FOR BEING SO AWESOME XOXOXO JOSIAH ERICKSON). He posed with them as Quincy took pictures with each of their phones (“Josy, maybe wipe your nose a little more first”). They told him they couldn’t wait to see the movie (“I like it when boys kiss other boys,” the girl on the right sighed dreamily). They were sweet and kind, and as they thanked him and walked away, squealing excitedly, Josy stared after them, a dopey expression on his face.
“Did that really just happen?” he asked.
“It did.”
“To me.”
“To you.”
He collapsed in his chair. “Wow. That was… wow.”
“First time?”
Josy nodded dumbly. “First time.”
“It’s overwhelming.”
“My face feels fuzzy.”
“That’s because you have a beard, genius.”
Josy didn’t know what to do with that. “Did you just—did you just dad joke me?”
Quincy groaned, putting his face in his hands.
“You did. What the hell!”
Quincy dropped his hands. His mouth was twitching.
Josy grinned at him.
Quincy smiled back.
“Oh,” a voice whispered loudly. “Now I’m convinced it’s us. Look at them. So precious.”
They looked over to see the We Three Queens and Lottie peering out at them from the kitchen.
Josy waved.
They ducked immediately. “Do you think they saw us?”
“I don’t know,” Betty said. “But it won’t matter if you keep talking so loudly!”
“I’m not talking loudly! You’re talking loudly!”
“Both of you are loud,” Bertha said.
“How did you get gravy on the ceiling?” Lottie asked. “You know what? I don’t want to know.”
“They know we can hear them, right?” Quincy asked.
“Yeah,” Josy said. “But I don’t even know what they’re talking about, so. I think I’m going to try the pumpkin spice egg and bacon sandwich. Want to split it with me?”
“Absolutely not.”
Yeah, Josy was having an okay day.
AND IT lasted for three more days before it came to a screeching halt.
All because of Xander and Serge.
“—and now we’re getting closer to the end, and the movie is going to be so cool, you don’t even know. I mean, yeah, there’s been a ton of rewrites, and I’m not sure what’s happening anymore. But I trust Quincy, you know? And yeah, I’ve had to kiss Mason Grazer, like, six times, but still! It’s going to be awesome. Quincy said that we might finish right on time. And Quincy also said that it’s getting some interest from some distributors. And Quincy told me that we could go on the film festival circuit. And Quincy—”
“Jesus Christ.” Xander sounded pained.
Josy finally took a breath. He looked down at the Skype screen where Xander and Serge sat side by side all the way in Los Angeles, staring at him with what looked like a mixture of amusement and disgust. “What? What’d I say?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Xander said. “Something about Quincy? In fact, everything you’ve said has been about Quincy.”
“Well, yeah. He’s my friend.” Josy frowned. “And I’m not talking about him that much.”
“You’ve said his name twenty times in six minutes,” Serge said.
“Really? That’s weird. He’s just a cool guy, I guess.”
Xander snorted. “Cool guy, huh? That’s what you’re going with.”
“He is!”
“Josy, have you looked at your Instagram lately?” Serge asked.
Josy rolled his eyes. “Have I looked at my Instagram lately. Duh. It’s my Instagram. I look at it every day. Do you see how many followers I have now? I might hit ten thousand by the time I come back to Los Angeles. Soon that meaningless blue check mark will be mine and I will lord it over the both of you while feeling empty inside.”
The skin under Xander’s right eye twitched. “He’s asking about the content, Josy. The pictures you’ve been posting.”
Josy picked up his phone. “What about them?” He launched the Instagram app and pulled up his profile. He’d gotten thirty more followers in the past hour, which was rad. A bunch of new comments and likes. He was getting behind in reading them all. He wondered if he needed to hire a personal assistant to handle his social media soon, but then thought that made him sound like a dick. His followers needed him and not some underpaid staffer named Stephanie.
“What’s the last picture you posted?” Serge asked.
“Umm… me and Quincy on set this morning.”
“And the one before that?”
“Me and Quincy having dinner last night with Gustavo and Casey.”
“And the one before that.”
“Quincy hanging from a tree branch, trying to fix the lighting the way he wanted. He looked so funny. I don’t know why people don’t believe in evolution. We obviously descended from primates.”
“And the one before that.”
“Me and Quincy laying in a pile of leaves. Oh man, that was great. We jumped in it and everything.”
Xander sighed. “Now look at Casey’s profile. What’s the common denominator for most of his pictures?”
He searched for Casey’s Instagram and opened it. “Let’s see. There’s him and Gustavo. Gustavo. Gustavo. Him and Gustavo. Harry S. Truman. The We Three Queens. Gustavo. Gustavo. Gustavo and Casey. Gustavo and Casey. A loaded pipe. The B and B. Gustavo. Gustavo. Gustavo. Wow. You know, for someone who hates social media as much as Gustavo does, he’s sure in here a lot.”
“And what does your page have in common with Casey’s?” Serge asked.
Josy squinted down at his phone. “We use a lot of the same filters?”
He heard a banging noise from the laptop and looked up to see Xander repeatedly hitting his forehead on the table.
Josy knew what that meant. He’d seen it often enough. “I’m missing something, aren’t I.”
Serge shook his head. “A little.”
“What is it? Tell me.”
“I’m going to ask you some questions, and I want you to answer them with the first thing that comes to mind. Okay?”
“Got it.”
“Who is the first person you talk to when you wake up in the morning and the last before you go to sleep?”
“Quincy,” Josy said promptly. “Because we share a room.”
“Who do you eat with on most days?”
“Quincy. He likes most of the same things I do.”
“Who do you spend most of your time with?”
“Quincy. Because we like hanging out with each other.”
“S
omething exciting happens. Aside from posting it online, who is the first person you tell?”
“Quincy,” Josy said. He paused. His brow furrowed. “Huh. That’s weird. Normally it’s you guys, but I guess it’s because you’re not here. How about that.”
“Couple more questions, okay?” Serge asked. “First thing that comes to mind.”
“Yeah, sure,” Josy said, though there was a strange buzzing noise in his head.
“Who makes you happy?”
“Quincy.”
“Who do you miss when you they’re not around?”
“You guys,” Josy said. “A lot.”
“But….”
“But also Quincy.”
“Who do you try and make laugh all the time just because you like the sound?”
“Quincy.”
“Who do you have feelings for?”
Josiah Erickson said, “Quincy,” like it was the easiest thing in the world.
And then he promptly choked on his tongue.
Serge and Xander looked slightly alarmed as he gasped for air. He gripped the sides of the desk in the room he shared with Quincy, the blanket fort he shared with Quincy partially collapsed, as he’d temporarily taken the chair out. And when he had, didn’t he think to remind himself to put it back when he was done? Because that’s where they slept now, wasn’t it? Oh, the beds were still there, but they hadn’t been used since the night he’d built the fort.
For Quincy.
“What in the fucking fuck?” he managed to say. “What sort of mystic bullshit is this? I told you I don’t like yoga, Serge!”
“That’s not yoga, Josy. Those are feelings.”
He shook his head furiously. “What? No, they’re not! Sure, we spend a lot of time together, and yes, it’s mostly just the two of us, and yes, I like it when he smiles and laughs and it makes me feel good whenever I see him and ohhhh. Myyyyy. God.”
“I can’t believe this is my life,” Xander muttered.
“Guys!” Josy said, voice high and breaking. “What is happening!”
Serge rolled his eyes. “You’re realizing that you’ve been dating someone for a while now. Probably longer than even we know.”
“We’re not dating,” Josy wheezed. “Dating is when you hold hands—”
“You do that.”
“When you talk about them all the time—”
“You do that.”
“When you know you’re dating,” Josy finished triumphantly. “You can’t date someone without knowing.”
“That’s it,” Xander said, starting to get up. “I’m done.”
Serge pulled him back down. “Knock it off. You said we’d hash this out now before it got worse.”
Josy was slightly horrified. “Before what got worse?”
“You,” Xander cried. “You and this—this Quincy. That’s all it is. Quincy this and Quincy that. Josy and Quincy. Both of your names end in y. That should not be as cute as it is. I feel like I’m dying.”
“But my name ends in h! It’s Josiah. It doesn’t end in—ohhhh. Josy. Ah. I get it now. Ha. That is kind of cute. Thank you for saying—no. You won’t get me that easy, Xander!”
“It’s okay if you like him,” Serge said, not unkindly. “You know that, right? You’re allowed.”
“But—but that’s not what this—I’m demisexual. I don’t experience attraction like normal people. I’m—”
“Hey!” Xander barked. “There’s nothing wrong with who you are. If that’s your normal, then it’s as normal as can be.” He paused, considering. “Okay, you’re absolutely not normal, but you get what I’m trying to say.”
“Demi means you need to have a connection with someone before you can have romantic and/or sexual attraction,” Serge said. “And dude, you have a connection with him. Like a hard-core connection. You’re connecting all over the place.”
“That’s not what this is,” Josy said faintly, though he was starting to doubt his own words.
“You care about him, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want to hold his hand?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Hug him?”
“Such good hugs,” Josy whispered fervently.
“Kiss him?”
Yes. Yes he did.
“Holy freaking crap,” Josy breathed. “I find Quincy Moore attractive.”
Xander threw up his hands. “Good god, finally.”
“I think he’s sexy.”
“Good for you, man,” Serge said.
“I want to put my mouth on his mouth.”
“Okay,” Serge said. “That’s… good.”
“He’s hot,” Josy said. “Like, frigging hot. I mean, the whole sex thing can wait or whatever, but goddamn. Have you seen him? I wish I was a blanket so I could lay on top of him all the time and keep him warm.”
“That might be enough,” Xander said, wincing slightly. “We got it.”
“You need to be sure about this, Josy,” Serge said. “It’s a pretty big deal.”
“It is?”
Serge shrugged. “I think so. I mean, it’s sex stuff, right? I know you’re not wired like Casey is, but you guys have pretty similar views on sex. Casey found someone who… well. He found someone who understood. What if Quincy doesn’t?”
Josy was confused. “Why wouldn’t he? I mean, maybe we’ll have sex eventually, but why do we have to do it right away? Why can’t it wait until we’re both ready?”
Serge and Xander exchanged a glance Josy couldn’t read. “It can,” Xander said slowly. “And if Quincy likes you as much as you like him, he’ll understand that. Sex isn’t the same for everyone. But you need to be ready in case it doesn’t work for him. You remember what it was like for me and Casey. I wish… I wish I could have done things differently. But I needed things he couldn’t give me. And that’s not his fault, nor is it mine. If Quincy thinks the same way, you can’t blame him for that.”
Josy blinked. “Of course I wouldn’t. Why would I blame someone for being who they are? Sex can be complicated, but it doesn’t have to be if you’re up-front about it. I want to make out with him. Like, you don’t even know how much. I want to kiss him and eat his breath and—”
“Abort,” Xander muttered, tapping the screen on his end. “Why isn’t this aborting?”
“It’s not a touch screen,” Serge hissed. “Stop getting your fingerprints all over it!”
“What do I do?” Josy asked, starting to feel hysterical. “I mean, how do you tell someone you’re accidentally dating that you want to make it real dating, preferably for a long time to come?”
“You just tell him—”
“I need an expert,” Josy said. “I need someone who knows what they’re talking about. Someone who has been through something exactly like this before.” He looked up at his friends who were hundreds of miles away. “And I know who to go to.”
“What?” Xander asked, sounding alarmed. “Oh god, no. Josy, don’t you dare—”
“I love you!” Josy yelled as he stood up, the chair falling back behind him. “I wish you could be here for No-Thanks Giving! I miss you! Thanks for helping me realize I want a boyfriend named Quincy! Bye!”
He slammed the laptop closed.
There was only one person in the world who could help him now.
Chapter 15
“I NEED your help with a love-life emergency!” Josy bellowed as soon as he burst through the doors of Pastor Tommy’s Video Rental Emporium. “I need you to tell me—oh. Sorry. You actually have a customer. Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before. Hullo, Mrs. Von Patterson. What’s that you got there? Is that a… paper turkey?”
Gustavo glared at him.
“Yes it is,” Mrs. Von Patterson said with a sniff. “I know you’re all… Hollyweird and think things should be done exactly when you say, but it’ll have to wait until Mr. Tiberius accepts the fact that I will hang this turkey in his window as acting president of the Fun Committee for No-Thanks Gi
ving, or we will be talking about this at the next town council meeting.”
“Do you not see the irony in what you just said?” Gustavo asked.
“Even I could see it,” Josy said. “And I miss mostly everything.”
Mrs. Von Patterson ignored them. “This paper turkey is a symbol of No-Thanks Giving, and if not placed in your window, it’ll seem as if you don’t stand for everything No-Thanks Giving is about. You don’t want people to think you’re against No-Thanks Giving, do you, Mr. Tiberius?”
“I’m not against the holiday. It’s the decorations I have a problem with—”
“Can you please let her put the turkey in the window?” Josy asked. “I have a life-or-death emergency, and I’m worried that it’s about to be more death than life.”
Gustavo looked startled. “What? What’s going on? Is everything okay?”
Josy sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe. But maybe not.”
“That doesn’t—ugh. Fine. Put it in the window if you must. But then leave the premises. You are loitering, and that is against city ordinance fourteen dash one nine seven—”
“Already done,” Mrs. Von Patterson said.
Sure enough, the turkey was plastered against the window. Josy was impressed. “Wow. I didn’t even see you move.”
“A good president knows when to take matters into her own hands,” Mrs. Von Patterson said. “And I’ll not take no for an answer. Mr. Tiberius, if that turkey is removed at any point before No-Thanks Giving, I will use the might of my presidency to rain down hellfire upon you until all that remains is the smoking ruins of this thing you call a life. Happy holidays.”
She disappeared out the front door.
GUSTAVO SCOWLED at the turkey. “It had actually better be life and death. If it’s not, I will have my revenge.”
“It is,” Josy moaned, flopping down on the counter, laying his head on his arms.
“Is something wrong with the movie?”
“No. Worse.”
“Is someone sick?”
“My allergies gave me trouble yesterday, but I took a Zyrtec. But that’s not it. It’s worse.”
“Did someone die?”
“They might as well have! You’re getting warmer!”
“Is someone about to die?”