“No, it was over weeks ago.”
“Then…did I do that?”
“I guess.”
“And it didn’t… You’re not hurt?”
“No, not at all…” Her confidence seemed rattled. “Sorry,” she said, a little meekly, which he found odd.
“Don’t be,” he said. He looked down again. He had made her bleed. He touched it, mesmerized, rubbing the warm tackiness. Now he could see Daisy’s thighs were smudged with it. A small, bright rose had bloomed on the mattress beneath her.
“Can you get me a towel?” she asked.
“Yeah. One sec.” He pushed up on an elbow, dipped a finger and began to trace letters on her leg, just above her bent knee. E. Then R.
“What are you doing?” But she was laughing, and her hand caressed his head.
He smiled, not sure himself, but into it, carefully making the crossbars of the I. Boldly, he slid his finger into her, and then finished with a strong K. And there, on her leg, his name, in her blood.
“Now you’re mine,” he said. She looked down at her leg, up at him, and her eyes turned wicked. Her hand, which had been soft in his hair, seized the nape of his neck and pulled him on her again, all of his body along hers. She opened her mouth under his, wound her limbs around him like vines. Caught up in her savage and greedy grip, he kissed her, crushed her down into the bed even as the joy in him spiraled up through the roof and burst into the sky. He had always known the one was out there and he had found her.
And he had marked her in blood.
Part Two: James
The Alpha Male
James Dow came to Lancaster the fall of Erik’s junior year.
Erik heard about him first through Daisy, who spoke of a talented transfer from Juilliard who was wowing the tights off the conservatory. “Marie’s having him partner me a lot,” she said. “I think he’s being groomed as the heir apparent.” She still danced with Will, but Will was a senior now, and clearly Marie was keeping a shrewd eye on the future.
“Is he any good?” Erik asked.
“He’s a good dancer,” Daisy said. “But he’s kind of erratic. Good days are phenomenal, bad days are horrendous and it’s either one or the other. No middle ground.”
“Perfect or useless.”
“Right, which makes it hard to partner with him. He’s strong, his timing is good. But he’s not consistent.”
“He’s not Will,” Erik said.
“Nobody is going to be Will. But I can’t ignore he’s graduating. That would be stupid.”
“And no stupid girls are in ballet.” It was something Daisy’s old ballet teacher used to say, and one of Daisy’s personal credos.
“James isn’t stupid,” she said. “He’s got a phenomenal memory. He’s just unpredictable. And I have to think so much when we dance together, which is exhausting.”
Erik followed the gossip with interest, wondering if a rivalry would erupt between the newcomer and Will. They sounded intensely competitive in the studio. But then Will started bringing James around to hang socially and Erik’s interest quickly morphed into concern. While James was a dynamic and likeable guy, something about the new friendship seemed odd to Erik. Troubling in a way he couldn’t quite articulate.
James Dow came from a small town outside Pittsburgh. His face had a dark, devilish handsomeness punctuated by stormy grey eyes. He was twenty-one but already losing his hair. “I got crap genes. None of the men in my family can keep a head of hair to save their lives.” He gave in gracefully by sporting an eighth-inch buzz cut and a slick goatee. Gold hoops hung from both his ears. These, the beard and his olive skin gave him the look of a pirate, Erik thought. Or a conquistador. “You look like Vasco da Gama,” he said.
“You, you look like freakin’ Adonis,” James said. He turned to Will. “How do you concentrate with this guy around?”
“With great difficulty,” Will said.
“Jesus, with a face like his I could’ve conquered half of Greenwich Village. Must be a pussy-market around your place. What, does he just stand in bars and take numbers?”
“Fishy, fishy in the brook,” David said, “doesn’t have a little black book.”
“He’s Bianco’s boy,” Will said.
“Oh.” James gave Erik an appraising look.
“He could be the Olympic champ of getting laid,” Will said. “But where is he on Saturday night? Pushing up daisies.”
“Can you blame him?” David asked.
“I’m standing right here, guys,” Erik said.
“We know,” Will said.
James shushed him. “Don’t speak, Fish. Just stand there and look cute and let us talk about you, okay?” His tone and cadence were an uncanny mimicry of Will. He even captured the little French-Canadian inflection on “okay,” drawing the word tight up against the roof of his mouth. Erik was puzzled by the tactic. Trying to emulate Will was one thing—imitation, sincere flattery and so forth—but James seemed to be taking it to extreme levels. Making himself into a Kaeger Klone. It made Erik feel strangely defensive.
Maintaining a healthy social life did require some effort on Erik’s part. Given his way, he would only be with Daisy. He was happiest with her. But he pragmatically sensed this wasn’t a healthy way to go through college, and so when the boys went out, he went along. His circle of friends within the conservatory was diverse and casual. Then he had a smaller exclusive circle with David, with whom he spent most his time, and Will, with whom he shared most his thoughts.
Against the fixed constant of Daisy, Erik found it odd he had ended up with two wild cards like Will and David as mates. Odd because a third of the time he couldn’t even stand David. Erik’s friendship with Will, on the other hand, had only strengthened over the past two years.
He often wondered if he and Will would have been as close, had they not been involved with Daisy and Lucky. Erik didn’t think the bond was born solely out of the convenience of two roommates banging two roommates, but he wasn’t positive Will’s company was something he would have sought out on his own. Despite the strong affinity, they were nothing alike.
“You can’t pick human connection apart, honey,” Daisy said. “Sometimes the affinity just exists without a reason. Or in spite of the reasons not to exist.”
Erik shrugged, not entirely convinced.
“Anyway, I think you’re a lot alike,” Daisy said. “You and Will seek out the same things in life, you just use different tactics. Will tries everything until he arrives at what he wants. Process of elimination. You get what you want all worked out in your head first, then you make a plan to go get it. But at the end of the day, what you’re both after is essentially the same thing.”
“Which is?”
“Creativity,” Daisy said thoughtfully. “Mastery of a skill. Athleticism. And connection. Mostly connection.”
“We just want to be loved?”
“By women, no doubt. But maybe you’re looking for a male kindred spirit.”
“Maybe.” He and Will hadn’t sliced palms and mingled blood, but it had been a mindless decision to room up sophomore year, and to continue the living arrangements this year. They lived well together—neither was a slob, in fact, both gravitated toward order, liking things to be in their place. They never lacked for conversation. And as Daisy had said, each had skills the other was curious to master. Some of them quite useful.
“What’s with you and the pineapple juice?” Erik asked Will once, noting never than less than a gallon of it was in their fridge.
“Il donne le coup un bon goût,” Will said, twisting the cap off a new bottle.
“English, please.”
Will did a high pour into two glasses, handed one over. “It makes your jiz taste good.”
“Jesus,” Erik muttered. But naturally he drank it, his interest piqued. Such a sexual tidbit coming from David could be immediately dismissed as a mind-fuck. From Will, however, it required serious consideration. (“And it doesn’t exactly make it taste good
,” Daisy said later. “It just makes it not taste.”)
On the less-useful but more refined front, Will was learning to play credible guitar under Erik’s tutelage. He was also a born-again tea drinker. Erik had taken two semesters of Taekwondo. They worked out together several times a week. Will hated to run, but he ran if Erik wanted to, and eventually hated it less. Will’s cross-training routine left Erik winded and wounded but he could tell he was getting stronger. And ripped. So he pushed through the sessions on the wave of Will’s motivation and the promise of Daisy running greedy hands over his body, purring about the little cut in his deltoid.
But analyzing Will’s friendship made Erik’s Y chromosome ache. Men didn’t pick apart and classify relationships the way girls did. At best, Erik could conclude he admired Will. Looked up to him. He wasn’t a father figure, but in Erik’s eyes, Will was definitely the alpha male. Which made Erik the beta. The behind-the-scenes man. Where he liked best to be. But now with James, a new buck was on the scene. Not exactly locking horns with Will for breeding rights—James was gay—but definitely shifting the status quo by sheer personality.
Erik shared this observation with David, who laughed in his face. “First of all, you’re the alpha male.”
“Me?”
“What, you think it’s only how tall you are or how much magnetism you have? It’s about pack mentality, Fish. You bring out the best in people.”
“Say what?”
“Haven’t you ever noticed everyone calms down around you?”
“No.”
“You’re human valium, dude.”
“Get outta here,” Erik said, giving David a shove to emphasize.
“I’m telling you, Fish. As long as you’re around, things stay chill. Your girlfriend’s the same way. She’s got the inner flame that never flickers. People love you. But maybe it’s better you don’t know it. Forget I said anything. You’re an asshole, Fish. Everyone hates your guts.”
Erik laughed but the reflection left him more than a little stunned. Both the content and the person it was coming from. He long resigned to David being one of his more difficult friends. They were excellent collaborators and had worked on several successful projects over the past three years. But if the best was in David, Erik didn’t think he had brought it out. David had always remained moody and unpredictable, a relentless tease and notorious practical joker. The genuine moments remained few and far between, and Erik took them at face value when they came.
“Second of all,” David said, “and I realize this will be hard for you to grasp, so listen closely. What James is doing with Will is called a crush.”
Erik stared at him, then closed his eyes. “I’m an idiot.”
“Yes, you are. And I got even more bad news for you, Fish, because Will’s eating it up.”
“Not this again,” Erik said. “He’s straight. Come on, he’s been with Lucky two years now.”
David grinned. “Well Lucky ain’t here, is she?”
She wasn’t. Lucky had been experiencing a life path shift, leaning away from physical therapy toward emergency medicine. She was taking a sabbatical and doing a modified EMT training program in Boston. Seeing if she had the stomach for it.
“Will’s definitely enjoying being a swinging bachelor again,” David said. “Regardless of which way the door is swinging. And he plays James like a violin. It’s fascinating in a twisted way. You watch.”
Erik watched and couldn’t deny it. Flying solo, Will had a little more swagger in him. He seemed augmented—taller, louder, funnier. And after the conversation with David, Erik quickly grasped James wasn’t competing with Will. He was adoring him. And Will was skillfully basking in it. He soaked up James’s infatuation yet he was careful not to reciprocate it. He never asked for James’s attention, he simply made his pleasure in it irresistible. He increased supply by decreasing demand. Erik couldn’t believe James didn’t get what was going on. Until he began to figure James out a little more.
If Will was an entitled cat belly-up in a puddle of sunshine, James was a stray out in the rain. Not the alpha male, but the omega. His desire to be included and accepted made him try too hard. His jokes were always slightly too loud, his joviality a little too forced. His good moods had a touch of mania to them while his downswings were wretched. If he felt the least bit rejected he plummeted into morose, passive-aggressive silence. He reminded Erik of nothing more than a lonesome dog trying a gamut of attention-seeking tricks, a ball in the lap or a muzzle on the knee, content with any scrap given and crushed when it was taken away.
James’s heart was in the right place, Erik thought. But along the way, his heart had somehow been damaged, leaving James an empty, aching vessel. And Will could fill it with a single word, or crack it into pieces with a word withheld.
Penny
When alone with just Erik and David, James wasn’t flamboyant or flirtatious. But he still seemed embarrassingly grateful to be included in their company, even if they were only sitting around playing video games at Erik and Will’s place. They had moved off-campus, choosing to rent in a quaint, slightly run-down residential neighborhood marked by narrow, two-story houses. Their place was on Colby Street, while Daisy and Lucky’s little house was on the adjacent Jay Street. The two backyards bumped together, divided by a hedge.
David had his own place around the corner. James was in a dorm but spent as little time there as possible. “My roommate’s such a douche,” he said. “I gotta find new digs before I shoot the guy.”
They were sitting around one September night. The Nintendo was broken—fingers of blame pointing in all directions but Erik suspected David had thrown it across the room in a fit of poor sportsmanship. Erik was taking it apart on the coffee table. Not to fix it. Just to tinker. It had been a long week. His schedule this semester was heavy with academic classes—statistics, especially, was a bear. Now his tired brain needed the meditative zone working with his hands always brought.
Will was at judo class. David was sketching set designs for the fall production of Death of a Salesman. James wasn’t doing anything, just sitting and watching Erik, so intent it was unnerving. But he stayed unusually quiet, and after a while Erik forgot about him. Piece by piece he took the console apart, lining everything up in careful order on the table. “Leave it,” he murmured when James reached to fiddle with something. James withdrew his hand. The gesture was so immediate and obedient, his expression so rapt and kid brother-ish Erik felt a surge of liking for the guy, mixed with the quiet pleasure of being admired.
“How do you know what you’re doing?” James asked.
“I don’t.”
“You’re just taking it apart for pure enjoyment.”
Erik smiled a little. “I like to,” he said.
James lit a cigarette and offered the pack to Erik, who shook his head. “My brothers do shit like this all the time,” James said. “But with cars. They’ll take an engine apart and put it together. Just for kicks.”
“How many brothers you have?”
“Three. All older.”
“Any of them dance?”
“Shit, no. My brothers are just like my father. They like sports, they like hunting, they like cars. Then there’s me. Their personal embarrassment. They used to tease me about being adopted except I prayed for it to be true. I’d have fantasies there’d be a knock at the door and it would be my real parents come back to claim me.”
Erik smiled, not knowing what to say. He bent his head back over his project, whistling through his teeth. He gave a start when James reached a finger to touch his necklace.
“This is cool. What’s it about?”
Erik told him its history, explained each of the charms. When he was finished, James sat back, looking thoughtful. He drew from the neck of his shirt a silver ball chain. From it dangled a set of dog tags and a copper pendant. He drew it over his head and handed it to Erik.
Erik put down his screwdriver and took the necklace carefully, knowing a talisman when
he saw one. The dog tags were stamped KORODOWSKI, MARGARET C.
“My sister,” James said.
“Korodowski?”
“My real last name. I use Dow for the stage.”
Erik nodded. He looked closer at the copper pendant. It was a flattened penny.
“We called her Penny,” James said. “My mom had three boys and always wanted a daughter. My father said one would eventually turn up. Like a bad penny. And she did turn up. With me.”
David had come over and was looking at the tags. “You’re twins?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened?” Erik asked quietly.
“She was in the 14th Quartermaster Detachment,” James said. “They were deployed to Saudi Arabia last February. They were only there six days and a scud missile destroyed the barracks.”
“I remember seeing the story on the news,” David said. “I had no idea your sister was… Dude, I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry,” Erik said. “That’s horrible.”
James took the chain back from David and put it over his head.
“Is it why you transferred here?” David asked.
James lit another cigarette. “My mom went off the deep end. Penny was her baby. She was everyone’s baby but for Mom she was…” James sighed, exhaling the smoke through his nose. “Mom was always fragile. Meek. Put on earth to serve my father and my brothers. Penny died and something in Mom just turned off. Went out.”
David flicked the lighter, held the flame a moment and then released the tab.
“Exactly,” James said. “And I was fucked up over it. I came home destroyed. Came home thinking people would be sympathetic about me losing my best friend, my twin. I actually thought grief might make us all closer. Fat chance. My dad never knew what to do with me. It was like I was the price he had to pay for a daughter. Now Penny was gone and she was the only thing standing between me and him. And my brothers. It turned into a free-for-all. Whatever grief they had, they took it out on me. And my mother was checked out. She started drinking her pain away. It was a mess. I needed to get the hell out but I felt New York was too far away. So I came here.”
The Man I Love Page 9