by E. K. Blair
“Pretty much. You know how Saturdays are—crazy as hell all day.” He takes a long swig of his beer and then says, “Missed you last night. Mark said you got hung-up with a friend.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. She’s been going through a rough time, so I decided to stay with her last night.” I was supposed to go out to a private concert to hear one of the bands that Gavin had just signed. I told Mark to go ahead and go when I decided to stay the night with Candace.
“You missed a pretty good show.”
“That’s what Mark said.”
Ryan laughs and says, “Your guy’s a little crazy when he drinks.”
“I’m not even gonna ask, but he was in a piss-ass mood when I saw him earlier,” I say through my laughter as I shake my head.
“Ha! I bet. He drank a shitload, probably hungover as fuck.”
We both laugh when the door opens and Mark walks through. “What’s so funny?” he asks as he stands there.
“You, man,” Ryan says.
“If this is about last night, I don’t even wanna know what the hell I did. My head has been pounding all damn day, and now I have to play for the next two hours.”
“Go find Max. He always has earplugs,” Ryan tells him.
“Not a bad idea.” Looking at me, he asks, “Can I stay with you tonight? My new roommate just decided to tell me that he’s throwing a party tonight.”
“Yeah, no problem.”
“Well, I gotta run. I just wanted to catch you,” he says and then turns to leave.
Mark has been keeping more distance between us when we are out, knowing that it still makes me uncomfortable. I hate that he feels like he has to do that for me. I know I need to get over it and try to force myself to show more affection with him when we are around others. I just need to push myself to take that step. But now I need to be honest and tell him about Preston. I never even felt like it was something I ever had to disclose to him, but now, knowing that they know each other, makes what happened relevant.
When Ryan and I walk down, I head over to the bar to say hi to Mel. We talk off and on, like we usually do, while I sip my beer.
“What’s up with Mark?” she asks as she nods her head towards the stage.
Turning to look at him, I laugh at the crap mood you can tell he’s in and the neon orange earplugs he’s wearing. I look back at Mel, and say, “He’s hungover.”
“That sucks.”
I look over to see Ryan being mauled by some redhead. He normally pushes off every girl that comes his way, so I’m a bit shocked, and just laugh as I turn back to Mel.
“Looks like he’s back to his old self,” she says with a smirk before walking away to help some customers.
After some time has passed, I watch Ryan take that chick out the back by her hand.
“Hey, Mel,” I holler down the bar. When she looks up at me, I say, “You think I could get a bottle of water when you get a chance?”
“Sure, hun.”
I overhear the two girls next to me talking about Mark and how the one girl plans to slip him her number. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard this. Girls are all over his junk, and lately it’s been making me feel more possessive of him. Everyone assumes he’s single and straight because I’m so self-conscious of what people will think of me if they saw us simply holding hands.
I continue to eavesdrop as they start downing shots and getting drunk. The band takes a break between sets and Mark approaches me as he lifts up the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead, exposing his abs, which the drunken girls thoroughly enjoy. Sitting next to me, his elbows propped up on the bar, I take a big push and lay my arm up on the bar and hold his hand, lacing my fingers with his. He looks over at me and into my eyes as he smiles. I know this gesture means a lot to him, and all that really matters is that this makes him happy.
Chasten comes over to grab a beer, standing next to us.
“Oh my God!” one of the girls yells out, drunk off her ass, and the three of us look over at her. She’s laughing and shaking her head as she looks at Mark before slurring, “You’re a fag?”
I jerk my hand away from his, and my neck heats from fear and embarrassment.
“You’re fucking wasted and need to watch the shit you say,” Chasten barks at her.
I stand up and start walking away, needing to get out of this situation when I hear her continue, “I would have never guessed he was queer.”
When I look back, I see Mark following me and Chasten grabbing the girl’s elbow, dragging her out. I walk through the back door and out into the parking lot, welcoming the cool mist that’s falling.
“Jase, wait!” Mark shouts from behind me, pleading me to stop, but I don’t want to.
Walking to my car, I say over my shoulder, “I just need space, man.” But I need so much more than space.
“That girl was drunk and a total bitch. Don’t let her upset you.”
When I reach my car, I turn around to him and say, “I’m not upset.” Embarrassed. Ashamed. Humiliated.
Walking up to me, he backs me up against the side of the car. “Well you’re something and you shouldn’t be. I don’t want you to be.”
I hang my head down before looking back up at him. “I’m irritated.” I then admit, “The thing is . . . you get a lot of attention from girls, and I feel invisible when what I really want is for people to know that you’re mine. But I don’t know how to do that.”
“You don’t have to do anything. You know I’m yours. I don’t see anyone else but you.” He reaches down and holds my hand. “People will always say shit, but you need to let it go.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know you are,” he says as he slides his free hand around my waist and kisses me. “Come on. Let’s go,” he says and then walks around to the passenger door.
“What are you doing? You still have another set to play.”
“I’m done. My head is pounding, and I feel like shit.” He opens the door and hops in.
When I slide into the driver’s seat, Mark pulls out his cell. “I’ll text Chasten and have him tell the guys.”
“Are they gonna be pissed?”
Reaching over and grabbing my hand, he says, “I don’t care. I just want to go home and lie down.”
I begin to stir and slowly wake up. When I roll over, Mark isn’t there. I lie there for a bit when I hear soft voices coming from the living room. Walking out, I’m surprised to see Candace in Mark’s arms, crying quietly on the couch. Her head is buried in his chest, so she doesn’t see me, and I don’t say anything. Mark looks at me with a slight shake of his head, so I just sit in the chair and stay quiet.
I hurt for her. Seeing her broken and hopeless tears me up inside. I hate the thought that she was so scared or upset that she had to drive here in the middle of the night. I want to hold her, but I let Mark take care of her.
“Wanna talk about it?” he quietly asks her, and when she lifts her splotchy, tear-stained face, she looks over at me.
I give her a reassuring nod, and she looks back at Mark and whispers, “I’m sorry. I . . . I just didn’t want to be alone, but . . . I guess I just didn’t think you’d be here. I’m not used to Jase having a boyfriend.” She stumbles over her words and closes her eyes when she continues. “I’m just so tired.”
“I know,” Mark says as he brushes her hair behind her ear. He tucks her head under his chin, and she clings to him. Mark and I stare at each other across the dark room as he holds her, and I know I’m in deep with him. I love him so much.
Mark has completely been there for me in the past couple months, giving me strength and a shoulder to lean on. I’ve never had that before. I never knew I needed that until him.
Standing up, I walk over and pull Candace up off the couch, and hug her. When Mark starts heading back to the bedroom, I take her hand and follow. She slides into bed with Mark and I on either side. Facing her, I wipe her cheeks with my thumbs and give her a kiss.
“I
’m sorry I barged in.”
“You didn’t. I’d rather you be here with us than alone and scared.”
“I just don’t know how much longer I can do this,” she says. “He’s always there at night, and it’s so hard lying in the dark, waiting to fall asleep. But I never know if he’s gonna be there too—in my dreams.”
Mark curls in around her from behind and tells her, “You need to talk to someone.”
I watch as her face scrunches up and she begins to cry again. Leaning my head against hers, she weeps, “I can’t.”
“You can. I know you’re scared, but you can,” Mark tries to convince her.
I look into Mark’s eyes and see the concern. I know Candace wants to ignore and forget. I don’t push it because she doesn’t need to hear it again. “You’ll get past this. There will be a time when it’ll begin to fade,” I tell her.
“But how long will that take?” she whimpers.
Mark wraps his arm over and around her waist, and wedges it in between Candace and me. “However long it takes, you have us, but Jase is right, it will eventually become easier.”
She closes her eyes and lets the tears seep out onto the pillow as I tighten my hold on her.
Even though I know she’s hurting, even though I know her pain is nearly unbearable, this is one of my most favorite places. Next to being in Mark’s arms, being with the two of them, like this, is a close second.
When I walk into the gym, I spot Ryan over by the free weights. I make my way back there and when he finishes his set of squats, he looks over and says, “Hey, man. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“One of my classes was cancelled, so I wanted to come since I figured the afternoon would be dead.”
I walk over and start sliding the weights onto the barbell, securing them with clamps. Pumping out my sets of bench presses, Ryan stands above and spots me. “Got any plans this weekend?” he asks as he grabs the bar from my hands and sets it in the rack.
“No. Isn’t it Mark’s off weekend?” The band gets one Saturday off a month.
“Yeah.”
“We don’t normally do anything. Just hang out at home,” I tell him as I lie back down to start another set.
Ryan lifts the bar and places it in my hands. Pushing out my reps, he says, “I’ve got some extra tickets for a small concert at Spines if you guys are interested.”
Taking my time to finish my set, I don’t respond until he grabs the bar back out of my hands. “Who’s playing?”
“The xx.”
“No shit? How did you score something like that?” I ask as we switch places, and he lies down on the bench.
He grabs the bar, and I help lift it out of the cradle for him. Before he lowers it down to his chest, he says, “Gavin.”
The xx is Candace’s favorite band. She is constantly playing their music when she studies. The last few weeks, we have been trying to get her out of the house to go out with us, but she refuses. If I tell her about this, I am almost positive she wouldn’t turn it down.
Knowing she’s really freaked out with crowds, I ask, “How many people do you think are going?”
As I take the bar from him, he sits up and says, “Small, man. Hundred or so. You coming?”
“Yeah. You have three? A good friend of mine is a huge fan, but she doesn’t do well with a lot of people, you know?”
When he lies back down for another set, he asks, “Why’s that?”
“Paranoid, I guess,” I say, and then catch myself. I shouldn’t have said anything, knowing that she will most likely be meeting him.
He gives me a strange look and then says, “Yeah, I’ve got three,” before finishing his last set.
We continue lifting, working on arms, chest, and back for the next hour. When we finish up, I grab my bag and take out my cell to text Mark about Saturday. He’s spending the day with Candace, so I make sure to tell him to keep his mouth shut until I can talk to her.
“You ready? I’ve got the tickets in my car,” Ryan says as he grabs his bag.
“Yeah, let me get out this last text to Mark.”
When I shove the phone into my bag, we start walking out and Ryan states, “So, you guys seem to be doing better.”
“Yeah. I mean, we weren’t ever not good. I was just . . .” I trail off, not really wanting to tell him too much, but when he prompts, “Just what?” I decide to tell him.
“I used to screw around a lot, so I wasn’t too quick on letting Mark in.”
Ryan nods and says, “I get that. I never get involved.”
I know why I never got involved, so I wonder what his reason could be. I go ahead and reveal, “I don’t like people judging me, so I used to put a lot distance between us when we’d go out together.”
When we get to his black Rubicon, he tosses his bag in the back seat and shuts the door, saying, “People who would judge are fuckin’ assholes. And I can assure you that no one that works for me would.”
“Thanks, but it’s my hang-up, and I know it.”
Opening up the driver’s side door, he reaches over to the center console and pulls out the tickets. He hands them to me and says, “Well, at least you’re working it out. So, I’ll see you guys Saturday?”
“Yeah. Thanks for these, man.”
“No problem. I gotta run, but I’ll catch up with you later,” he says as he hops up into his Jeep.
“Later,” I say and then turn towards my SUV.
I take the rest of the afternoon to study and finish writing a paper for one of my classes. Candace picked Mark up earlier today, so I’m about to head over to her house to get him. I grab the tickets that Ryan gave me, hoping that it will be enough to pull her out of her funk and go out with us.
I make the short drive through Fremont and into her neighborhood. The night is cold and misty, and when I get to her place, I let myself in. The house is dark and quiet. Walking into the kitchen, I see the two of them sitting around the fire pit in the backyard.
When I open the door and walk out, they both turn to look at me. “Hey, guys,” I say while I walk over to Mark to give him a kiss and then turn to kiss Candace. “What are you guys doing out here? It’s cold.”
“I’m fattening up your rail-thin girl over there,” he says as he holds up a nearly empty bag of marshmallows. He then turns to Candace to give her a wink.
She just laughs and says, “Good luck, fatty.”
I’m relieved to see that she is in a playful mood, so I don’t waste any time when I sit opposite her and say, “So, I want you to come out with Mark and I Saturday night.”
“Jase.” She shakes her head and suddenly that grin that Mark had just put on her face is gone.
I start to explain before she completely shuts me down. “It’ll be low key, promise. Spines is closing early to have a private concert, and I was able to snag three tickets for us.”
“You want me to go to a concert?”
“Candace, seriously? It’s at a book and music store. It’s a private show, but forget about that. You won’t turn me down when I tell you who’s playing.” I know she’s gonna be excited, so I can’t help the smile that crosses my face as I reach into my pocket and pull out the tickets. I hand her the solid black ticket with two white X’s on it.
Her eyes grow wide and she all but snatches it out of my hand when she says, “Are you serious? How did you get these?”
“A friend of Mark’s.”
“Who?” Mark asks.
“Ryan. I ran into him at the gym earlier today. We got to talking about music, and he mentioned the show. When I told him my best friend is a huge fan of The xx, he gave me a few extra tickets that he wasn’t using.”
“Who’s Ryan?” Candace asks as she looks over at me.
Mark speaks up and tells her, “He owns the bar that my band has been playing at.”
She sits back, and I can tell she’s hesitant and debating on what she should do as she stares into the bright fire. I really want her to do this. I want to show h
er that she doesn’t always need to be scared. That she can be out, be around people, and realize that she’s fine. I reach over and take her hand and try to reassure her. “I really want you to go. You’ll be with the two of us. Nothing will happen.”
“I don’t know. It makes me nervous.”
“I know,” I whisper. “But nothing will happen. You have to start trying.”
Mark gives her an encouraging nod when she turns to look at him. She turns back to me, letting out a slow breath, and I know I got this.
Her voice trembles slightly when she says, “Okay.”
I know she hates it when people fuss over her, so I simply sit back and say, “Thank you.”
“I need more marshmallows,” she says.
I laugh when Mark tosses her the bag, and she starts stabbing them onto her skewer.
“Did you finish your paper?” Mark asks as he picks up the bottle of wine that is sitting next to his chair.
“Yeah. I’m pretty much caught up with everything at this point. I am so ready for Thanksgiving break.”
“I could pass on that,” Candace says as she eats her charred marshmallow.
“When was the last time you spoke with your parents?” I ask her.
She tosses her skewer down and tightens the blanket that’s wrapped around her. “About three weeks ago. Last time my mother called, I hung up on her and we haven’t spoken since.”
“What happened?” Mark asks her as he continues to drink his wine.
“Same thing that always does. She tells me how I’m not good enough, I’m not measuring up, I disrespect family commitments. Honestly, I’m used to it and normally just deal with it, but I don’t have the energy right now.”
“Are you gonna go home then?” I ask.
“Yeah. It’s not worth the backlash if I don’t. I mean, it’s Thanksgiving. I can’t not go home.”
We hang out for another half hour. Mark finishes off the bottle of wine, and he is definitely feeling the effects. I decide it’s time to head out before he turns obnoxious.
As we’re driving back to my place, Mark leans over the console and starts biting along my neck, and by the laughing that accompanies it, I know he’s had too much wine. I laugh at him, but quickly stop when he reaches down and starts rubbing me from outside my jeans.