Jack raised his eyebrows. “Piss like a racehorse?” he suggested, laughing when Gabriel made a face. “Fine. I’ll wait.” He poked lightly at Gabriel’s belly.
“Is that your way of telling me I should do some sit-ups?” Gabriel joked.
“God, no,” Jack said, immediately bending to kiss Gabriel’s stomach. He sucked at the skin just below Gabriel’s belly button, and Gabriel shifted beneath him, his hand tightening in Jack’s hair. “Okay, we can finish this in the shower,” Jack said, rolling away. He chuckled at Gabriel’s sound of protest. Jack swung his legs off the bed and looked back over his shoulder. “Ever been sucked off in the shower, Santiago?” he asked.
Gabriel groaned, closing his eyes.
“Is that a no?”
“Yes. No. Yes, that’s a no,” Gabriel said, shivering at the sound of Jack’s soft laughter.
“Get up and pee before it gets too hard,” Jack said. He laughed again. “Okay, you’re not a fan of crudeness first thing in the morning.”
Gabriel speared him with a look. “You can be as crude as you want,” he answered. “Just remember that I can use my mouth for other forms of retaliation.”
Jack grinned. “Speaking of which,” he said, “I have something new to teach you. If my knees can handle the porcelain.”
Chapter Eight
“Mrs. Muñoz is an idiot,” Alex muttered.
Jack looked up from his book, frowning. They were sitting across the kitchen table from each other. “I don’t like you calling someone an idiot,” he said.
“Sorry,” Alex answered, clearly distracted. “But I keep reading this and it’s still amazing.”
“What’s that? And who’s Mrs. Muñoz?”
“Don’t worry, you’re not dating her,” Alex said.
Jack was surprised into a laugh. “Look who’s a comedian,” he said when Alex grinned at him.
“It’s a play that Mr. S wrote when he was my age,” Alex said.
“That Gabe wrote?” Jack asked, his gaze shifting to the open folder. His surprise quickly gave way to curiosity, and his fingers itched to reach for the pages.
“Yeah, and Mrs. Muñoz was his teacher, his favorite teacher, and she basically said it wasn’t good enough to have the school put it on, and he says it’s fine and that she was probably right but I think she hurt his feelings and I also think she was wrong because I’ve read it like five times and it’s way more than good.” Alex paused, and Jack could see the speculation in his expression. “But maybe she just thought it was too, like…controversial or something.”
“Controversial?” Jack repeated, his curiosity spiking even higher.
“I mean it’s not really, it’s subtle, but maybe back then…” Alex shrugged, looking down at the pages. “We could do it,” he said. “Except Mr. Sanderson doesn’t like Mr. S.”
“I get the feeling that’s mutual,” Jack said.
“Mr. S would never really say so,” Alex answered without looking up. “But he’s nice and Mr. Sanderson is an—” He stopped himself.
“Asshole?” Jack suggested, and he saw his son’s lips quirk. “Not that I want you to be disrespectful, to him or any teacher,” he added. “But what you said about him making you all throw paper at another kid?”
Alex looked at him. “I didn’t do it,” he said with a frown. “He told us we’d get detention if we didn’t.”
“Did you get detention?”
“No. There were a lot of us who didn’t do it, he didn’t really care ‘cause I guess he made his point to Carter.”
“Well, you’re a good kid, and I trust you. So I want you to be respectful, but you know that if you get in trouble for doing what you think is right, I’ll always have your back, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And if he—or anyone—ever tries any shit like that with you, call me and I’ll be there.” He hesitated. “Unless that embarrassment would be worse,” he said.
Alex laughed. “Nah, you walk in with your gun and badge and get in Mr. Sanderson’s face, you’ll be a hero. But I’m not scared of him. I just don’t want him making trouble for Mr. S. He’s the best teacher at the school. I literally don’t know one kid who doesn’t like him. Literally,” he added for emphasis. “He’s got this, like, policy,” he said, lacing his fingers together on the folder, “where you can talk to him about anything and he won’t tell anybody—not your parents or the principal or whatever—as long as it’s not something that hurts someone. Like, if someone says they wanna kill themself or someone else, or they torture puppies or something, but…if someone just needs to talk about something they’re upset about, they can talk to him. And you can ask him anything, too, and he’ll either answer or say it’s inappropriate, but he doesn’t ever, like, flip out or embarrass you or anything. And one kid told him about how he was the one who busted the window out of Mr. Barter’s car last year? And Mr. S didn’t tell anyone and he helped the kid pay money back to Mr. Barter for his deductible without anyone knowing who it is.”
“How do you know Gabe didn’t pay for the window himself?”
“I know who the kid is,” Alex answered simply. “But I’m not gonna rat.”
“Of course not,” Jack said with a smile. “I am the police, after all.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t tell,” Alex laughed. “At least, I don’t think you would,” he added, narrowing an eye at Jack, and Jack chuckled in response. “But anyway, everyone likes Mr. S, except Mr. Sanderson.” He turned his attention back to the folder. “I could update this a little if he lets me. Make it sound more like kids talk now. It’s really good, though. It’s like…sad and lonely but still…hopeful.” He was speaking absently, as though he’d forgotten that Jack was actually there. “He still does the right thing even when no one knows…” He trailed off, his eyes scanning the page.
“Can I read it?” Jack asked.
Alex looked up again, blinking in surprise. “I…” He hesitated. “Do you…Is it okay if I ask Mr. S, first?” he asked.
“Of course. Actually, I’ll ask, so you don’t have to,” Jack said, fishing his phone from his pocket. He sent a text to Gabriel: Hey. Can I read your play?
After about thirty seconds, he got a one word response: Sure? Jack smiled at the question mark and looked up at his son. “He says it’s fine,” he said. He started to turn the phone toward Alex so he could see for himself, but Alex was already sliding the folder across the table.
***
Something new to teach you, Gabriel thought, as a small shiver passed through his body at the memory. On his knees in the bathtub, Jack had taken Gabriel’s length into his throat, swallowing until Gabriel—hands propped against the wall, water beating against his back, trying desperately to keep his legs from collapsing beneath him—cried out the other man’s name.
Gabriel would’ve done his best to return the favor, even though he knew that his knees would’ve punished him later, but Jack nixed the idea. Instead, he guided Gabriel onto the edge of the tub, where he sat gratefully in spite of the chill of the porcelain against his ass. His legs were weak and shaky.
Jack stood between Gabriel’s knees and guided the teacher’s hands and head into place, telling him there would be time later to test Gabriel’s body. This morning, Jack was apparently interested in gentleness, and Gabriel obliged, using every tool in his mouth to take Jack over the edge.
Now, alone in his apartment, Gabriel was growing hard at the memory. He shook his head and grimaced. He had to get control of himself. Jack had to work late, and Gabriel had an early morning, so they wouldn’t see each other that night. Gabriel wasn’t sure if they would see each other at all during the week, and he wasn’t going to suggest any more explicit late-night phone calls. Now that Gabriel knew how Jack’s mouth and hands felt, he knew his own hand could never compete.
He knew he needed to get out and do something before his mind and body completely betrayed him, so he called Natalie to see if she had plans. She didn’t, so they agreed to meet at the g
rocery store and shop for both the house and the apartment. He’d made a partial list of the things he needed, and he could only hope he’d remember the rest once he was wandering the aisles.
They were going to have to figure out a lot of things: separate bank accounts, car insurance, utilities, cell service…the list was daunting after decades of a life together, but they could take things one step at a time. It wasn’t as though they were cutting each other out of their lives or decisions, and they’d agreed not to stress out about the details or worry about anyone else’s “rules” for divorce.
Gabriel smiled as he slipped on a jacket. The future was still scary, but he was feeling good about it. No matter what might come he felt, finally, like he might be headed down the track on which he was meant to be.
***
“Mr. S? Can I…uh…”
Gabriel looked up at Alex, who was standing in the middle of the classroom, clearly unsure of himself. “What’s up, Mr. McGinty?” he asked.
“Can I talk to you?”
“Of course,” Gabriel said. It was lunchtime, and Gabriel had chosen once again to eat in his classroom to avoid the gossip of the teachers’ lounge.
Alex looked over his shoulder, then walked back to close the door. He fidgeted as he made his way toward Gabriel’s desk. “I know it’s your lunch break,” Alex started, but Gabriel waved away his concerns with a hand.
“You know my door is always open,” he said, concerned by the kid’s discomfort. He didn’t know if this was related to Gabriel’s relationship with Jack—Jack said he’d told Alex about them—or something else, but Alex was worried about something. “Have a seat,” Gabriel said, pointing toward one of the desks. “If you want. What’s on your mind?” he asked as Alex folded himself into a chair.
“Well…I want to ask you something but…I don’t know if…I mean, I think it might be out of line. I could ask Dad but his…experiences are different than yours…” He squirmed in his seat, fidgeting nervously. “And also I know that I’ve always been able to talk to both my dads about this kind of stuff but I’ve never talked to anyone else so I’m not sure…if it’s okay…”
“Alex,” Gabriel said, putting his elbows on his desk. “Take a breath, son. Look at me. Ask me whatever you want.”
“I, uh…You know that Dad told me…about…about you and…and him…”
“Yes,” Gabriel said. His heart was pounding, but he kept his eyes on Alex.
“And…no one knows…” Alex continued. “And you didn’t tell me, so I know I don’t really have a right to know—”
“Alex,” Gabriel repeated quietly.
“It’s just that I’m worried about someone,” Alex said, looking at him.
Gabriel blinked. “Okay,” he said. “Do you want to tell me who?”
Alex shook his head. “I do, but I don’t want to go behind their back. I just, uh…I think…I think they might be gay?” He ran a hand over his face and met Gabriel’s eyes. “Is this okay, Mr. Santiago?” he asked. “Seriously. You can tell me to go away.”
“You’re fine, Alex. Are you asking me if you should ask them?”
“No, not exactly. I wouldn’t do that. I shouldn’t do that, right? But like, how do I make sure they know that…they can talk to me about it if they want to without, like…making them uncomfortable like I’m trying to force them into telling me something they don’t want to?”
“First of all, if they know you, I’m sure they know that. I think I understand what you’re asking, though.” Gabriel chewed his lip, considering. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think maybe you’re wondering if I would’ve done things differently if I’d felt like I could be more honest with people? The truth is, I don’t know. I did have people with whom I could be honest, but I made my decisions based on what I thought was best at the time. What’s important, Alex, is that if you’re worried about this person, about their safety? That they know that they can talk to you, or someone, not about one specific thing, one possible thing, but that they can talk to you about anything. Maybe you’re right about why they’re upset, maybe you’re not. But if you’re worried about them, then that I trust, and that worries me.
“If someone has something they want to keep a secret, they might feel cornered or confronted no matter how gently you broach the subject. Everyone’s different. If you had come to me when I was your age and asked me directly, I probably would’ve panicked but I also would’ve…answered, I think. I can’t say that’s true for everyone. What I can say is that most people, when they’re in a dark place, when they’re feeling hopeless or alone, they want someone to reach out. They might not know how to accept the hand, they might pull away from it, but it’s important that they know it’s there. We all want to know we’re not alone, I think.”
“Did you ever think about hurting yourself, Mr. S?” Alex asked quietly.
Gabriel let out a breath and leaned back in his chair. “Yes,” he answered. “Most recently, the night I met your father, actually,” he admitted. “I buried my mother that day, my wife had asked me for a divorce, my son couldn’t make it home in time for the funeral, and I was turning fifty years old. I wasn’t in a great place. But I wouldn’t have done it. We all have dark thoughts sometimes. Not everyone knows how to cope with those thoughts, and not everyone can cope with them without medication or therapy. It’s not always a matter of just dealing with something, sometimes we actually need help focusing our brains in healthy directions. For me, I think I’ve always had a…surprisingly healthy relationship with my emotions, even though I’ve been overwhelmed many times in my life.
“I’m lucky. Your friend might not be able to see a silver lining, Alex. It’s important that you understand that. You might not be able to help, and if you’re really concerned, you might have to ask someone else for help.”
“I understand,” Alex said.
“All you can do is what you think is right. Remember that you’re ultimately not responsible for anyone else, though. You’re sixteen years old. You don’t have to know the answers or what to do, and you don’t have to be responsible for anyone else’s happiness. That’s too much of a burden to ask of anyone.”
“You told me that when I asked about how to help my dad, when he was crying alone. You told me to love him and be patient but that I couldn’t be responsible for making him happy.”
“It’s still true,” Gabriel answered with a small smile.
“It feels kinda weird, knowing we talked about him and now you’re…whatever. But I’m glad you guys met that night. He smiles when he talks about you. And you smile when you talk about him. I don’t know how anyone could think that’s a bad thing. But I’ve got your back, Mr. S. If anyone talks shit, I’ll fight ‘em. I might not look very tough but I’m pretty quick.”
Gabriel laughed, but he was moved by Alex’s words. “I appreciate the sentiment, son, but I don’t want you or anyone else fighting on my behalf. Like I told your class, I’m perfectly capable of defending myself if I feel the need to. I’m not worried about what people may or may not say about me, so long as they’re respectful to my family. I’m just…figuring things out for myself right now. And allowing myself the time to do that. I don’t know if I’ve been much help to you here, but I hope you know you or your friend can come to me about anything. If they want to talk, I’m here. And if, in the process of telling them that, you feel it’s helpful to tell them about me—”
“I would never,” Alex objected.
Gabriel held up a hand. “I know. I trust you. I’m telling you it’s alright. Me choosing to keep things private is not the same as hiding them. Your friend’s well-being is what matters. I’m not giving you permission to talk about anyone else, but what I am telling you is not to worry about me.”
“Okay,” Alex said. “Thanks, Mr. S. There’s one more thing?”
Gabriel offered a nod and waited.
“I read your play, and it’s…honestly so good. I was wondering if it might be okay if I change a few thing
s around? I’d rewrite it, of course, I won’t mess up your original, but I just think I could make it a little more modern?”
Gabriel was surprised. “I—First of all, thank you. Secondly, you can do whatever you want to it. Rewrite it, burn it, anything you want. It’s yours.”
“I can’t—”
“I have no use for it now, Mr. McGinty,” Gabriel said. “It was important to me once, and I’m more than happy to have it in the hands of someone who appreciates it for what it was. Sincerely, it’s yours.” His eyes cut toward the sound of a knock on the door, and he saw Arnie’s face in the window. He held up a finger and turned his attention back to Alex. “Is there anything else you need?” he asked, but the boy was already getting to his feet.
“No. Thanks a lot, Mr. Santiago,” he said.
“Let me know if you need any help with anything,” Gabriel answered, gesturing for Arnie to come inside.
“I will. Thanks. Hi, Mr. Shafer.”
“Good afternoon, Alex,” Arnie said as the teenager passed him. Once Alex was out of the room, Arnie closed the door.
So much for lunch, Gabriel thought. As if on cue, his phone buzzed on the desk. Gabriel looked down at Jack’s text but resisted the urge to pick up the phone. “What’s up, Arnie?” he asked.
“Is this a bad time?” He glanced at Gabriel’s uneaten lunch.
“Nope,” Gabriel said, leaning back and giving the gym teacher his undivided attention. “What can I do for you?”
“I just had a talk with Doug,” Arnie said, and Gabriel suppressed a sigh. He’d been waiting for Sanderson’s reaction to the parents’ night assembly. It was the first time Gabriel could remember a principal not attending the night’s events. “I guess a few of the parents complained. Said the students were out of control, the whole thing was a mess…”
“I’m sorry, Arnie,” Gabriel said. “I wasn’t trying—”
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