Lonely Hearts

by Heidi Cullinan

  Elijah considered his cigarette a moment before ashing it out. “I’ll quit with you, when it’s time.”

  Lewis shoved Elijah lightly. “Get out. That’s insane. You will not.”

  “It’s not insane. I should quit anyway. I only restarted last winter when my parents were driving me out of my mind. I have shit to live for now. I’m not going through all this to die of cancer. Besides, it’s something I can do to support you.”

  Lewis bumped him again, a shy shoulder nudge. “You do plenty.”

  They parted ways at the edge of campus because Lewis had to get ready for a shift and Elijah wanted to buzz back to the White House to engage his plan.

  Nobody was there, though. He poked around online, watched his erotic shorts not selling worth a fucking damn, hated himself for ever publishing anything, and surfed Twitter.

  His feed was still full of news about the US Attorney General resigning, but now he saw a familiar name appearing in those same 140-character news summaries. Senator Barnett rumored nominee for Attorney General. Elijah’s eyebrows raised as he clicked through and saw yes, it was Baz’s uncle. Huh. Boy, that was weird, to have such a short a degree of separation from someone so newsworthy. He figured it had to be a rumor, since Baz never said anything—but then, Baz rarely shared much about his family.

  It sure sounded like Barnett was who everyone thought would get the job. The Republicans were all in a lather, though they seemed to be torn between outrage over such a liberal AG and the potential vacancy of an Illinois Senate seat. He wondered how that worked before reading on to learn the governor appointed someone. Like good old Blagojevich and Obama, except hopefully nobody would go to prison for trying to sell the seat this time.

  One of the sites, a super-lefty rag, reported Barnett’s sister would be appointed to the Senate seat if Barnett got the AG nom. How many sisters did the guy have? No way that could be Baz’s mom, right?

  Elijah wrote the idea off as nutty and continued down his Google rabbit hole. He quickly exhausted news about Baz’s uncle. On a whim, he Googled Baz, nervous about what he’d find, but the results were surprisingly thin. The news was all recent—precious little about the accident when he was sixteen, which made sense. He’d been a minor, and probably they went out of their way to keep things buried.

  Most of it was stuff Elijah already knew. He found a few photos of Baz with his mom at charity events, less with his dad. A shot popped up from ICCA quarterfinals where somebody had captured Baz bent over a mic like a rock star. Elijah felt guilty there were no follow-ups of him winning in New York City because the Ambassadors had to scratch when Baz got shot.

  Elijah saw a couple articles about the shooting in March, which he told himself he shouldn’t read but couldn’t seem to stop himself. Some stuff about Baz there, but nothing too deep. Nearly nothing about Elijah, which in hindsight was pretty weird. Why hadn’t the reporters hunted him down? Not that he wished they would have, but it was still strange to have escaped unscathed.

  Elijah’s parents, however, got quite a bit of ink. Lots of commentary about religious extremism, some talk about gun control, but it seemed to degenerate into the same tired argument on both sides. An article about Pastor Schulz talked about how the college intended to take care of its students at a difficult time, how this was an opportunity for Saint Timothy to follow its mission. This dovetailed into the stuff Elijah knew about, including Walter’s fund.

  He unearthed more articles about the shooting, though—new ones. From a week ago. Two weird right-wing blogs and some Christian newswire thing that seemed right up Elijah’s parents’ street. They talked about how manipulative Elijah was to deceive his parents and trick them into a year of college education and other financial support. They acknowledged attempted murder was wrong, but they pretty much came out and said it was an understandable impulse, given how twisted in sin Elijah’s soul was.

  Elijah stared at the articles a long time, rereading them, letting the sentiment they expressed squirm in his belly.

  Abruptly, he shut the laptop. After pacing around the house a few minutes, he grabbed a fresh pack of cigarettes and chain-smoked his way to campus, desperate to connect with someone. Anyone. Right now.

  He started at the music building, and he hit the jackpot. Mina, Jilly, Aaron, Giles, even Baz—they were all in an empty classroom, strategizing how they were going to run Salvo and Ambassador auditions at the end of August, but Baz stepped into the hall to talk to him.

  He gave Elijah a lingering kiss on his cheek along with a not-at-all-subtle grope of his ass. “What’s up, hon?” When Baz got a better look at Elijah’s face, he sobered. “What’s wrong?”

  Now that he stood in front of Baz, Elijah felt foolish for letting online garbage get to him. “I’m sorry to bother you. I was all fired up, and I wanted to ask right away.” He gave a quick summary about Lejla’s potential come-out, and outlined the housing difficulty. “I wanted to know who to talk to about the extra spot in the White House. I know Brian is in the other big room as a single because I’m not in it and Sid is in the actual single, but would they share, do you think? Would the management company rent to Lejla and let her have the single? What kind of application is it? Can we convince them? How much would it cost?”

  Baz’s expression got hard to read as he rubbed his jaw. Elijah’s heart sank, and he got ready to hear no way in hell they’d rent to her. Which was why he was so unprepared when Baz said, “You talk to me, the rent is flexible, and she just applied. If she wants the space, it’s hers.”

  Elijah opened and shut his mouth a few times. “How are you in charge of it?”

  “Because my family owns the White House. I get to decide everything.”

  Elijah stared at him. “Shut up.”

  “Mom likes control. She bought it as soon as I showed interest in moving in.” He grimaced. “Sorry.”

  Elijah stared at him, head spinning as it all clicked into place.

  Yes, it had been easy to get into the White House, hadn’t it? All his friends were there too. Meanwhile, Elijah’s fund kept growing and growing, from anonymous donors…

  “How much of my Poor Elijah fund is your money?”

  Baz looked distinctly awkward. “It’s not out of pity. We give to causes all the time. I was glad it was somebody I knew for once.” Even with the glasses, there was no hiding his wince. “Don’t be mad.”

  A month ago, Elijah would have been. It made him nervous and unsure right now, though he couldn’t say why exactly. Not because he felt like he owed Baz, which surprised him. Being managed wasn’t his favorite thing, though at this point he’d grown a callus over that sore point, because life with Baz was being managed. It was somewhat creepy, he supposed, that Baz hadn’t told him.

  Except Elijah knew now why Baz did it. Because he had a thing about keeping people around. Baz directed Elijah’s life like a symphony because he cared.

  This fact had stopped making Elijah angry, but it sure as fuck still terrified him.

  Baz watched Elijah carefully. “Something else is bothering you.”

  Elijah couldn’t very well say he was weirded out that Baz cared about him. He forced a smile. “Nothing worth talking about. But hey, I read your uncle might be the Attorney General? How cool is that?”

  Apparently not cool at all, as Baz didn’t return the smile. In fact, he looked a bit green. “Did it say anything else?”

  The article about Senator Barnett’s sister flashed in Elijah’s memory. Holy fucking shit, what if that’s true too?

  Before he could say anything, though, Giles leaned out the door. “Baz, could you come look at this arrangement and tell us if we’re heading in the right direction?”

  Baz nodded and brushed Elijah’s cheek with his thumb. “We’ll talk later. Tell Lejla she’s got a spot whenever she wants it. Lewis too. Sid won’t care about giving up his single.”

&nbs
p; Baz disappeared into the room. Elijah stared at the closed door, thoughts rattling around like grenades in his brain.

  Then he shook them off, pulled out his phone and sent a text to Lewis. Give me a call when you’re off work. I have a proposition for you.

  While the rest of the White House hugged a shell-shocked Lewis as Elijah delivered the news of who their newest resident would be, Baz leaned against the kitchen counter and scoured the Internet for leaks about his mother.

  Mostly the Beltway media circle-jerked over whether or not Paul Barnett would get confirmed, and conservatives trotted out their usual scree about how Paul Barnett was more liberal elite than the Kennedys. Baz dug into a few deeply partisan sites, where he found a lefty blog bragging about inside intel saying Gloria Barnett Acker was on the short list for Senate replacements, and a right-wing one painting his mom as out of touch and snobby and dumber than a box of rocks all in the same breath. That was all, though the teasers on The Maddow Blog hinted Rachel was about to spill all the beans. Baz had an email from Giselle too, with five attachment files full of media training PDFs. Pursing his lips, he closed the mail app.

  He put his phone away and did his best to engage in the happy moment in front of him. Having come straight over from the cafeteria, their new resident was dressed firmly as Lewis, but Baz didn’t want to make assumptions on who it was wiping away happy tears while perched delicately on a kitchen stool. He wasn’t the only one wondering, it turned out, and Mina broke the ice by coming out and asking, “Should we call you Lejla or Lewis? How do you want us to refer to you?”

  “I don’t know. Lewis for now, but not…not for long. I want to be Lejla, but it hurts to be her without being her, if it makes sense. I compartmentalize her like a separate self, though that’s actually wrong. She is me. But I’m still working on accepting that and being comfortable allowing others to address me that way.”

  “Keep us posted, okay?” This came from Giles, lacing his fingers around Aaron’s on the tabletop. “We want you to feel comfortable.”

  “When will you move in?” Aaron asked.

  Lewis blushed and tugged at his ear. “I—I don’t know. When can I? I mean—I haven’t talked to my parents about rent, and Elijah didn’t say how much it was.”

  “You can move in tonight, if you want,” Baz said. “Have your parents talk to me about rent, but it’s not going to be an issue.”

  Lewis began weeping again. Giles and Mina exchanged glances, then began a campaign to haul ass across campus that exact second and move their new resident in immediately. When this idea got some traction, Baz fished out the Tesla keys and tossed them to Aaron.

  “Go ahead and get started. The football team should still be at practice, so you’ve got a clear shot. If you take my car and Giles’s both, you might get all of it in one trip. We can move the spare bed from our room.” Another news alert flashed on his phone’s home screen, and a wave of weariness hit Baz in the gut. He caught Elijah’s eye. “Hey, babe, can I talk to you?”

  Elijah went still. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I—” He rubbed his jaw and stifled a sigh.

  Aaron came to the rescue, herding the others out, leaving the two of them alone. Elijah leaned against the fridge with his arms folded nervously over his chest once they left.

  Baz flattened his lips. “Don’t look at me like that. I want to tell you something, okay?”

  Elijah relaxed, but not much. “Sorry. It’s been a weird day.”

  “Yeah, well.” Baz fished his laptop out of a sea of junk mail on the table and flipped it open to Google News. The article about his uncle for AG was at the top of the feed. “I need to talk to you about this.”

  Elijah glanced at him. “I take it you knew this was coming?”

  Baz nodded. “I’ve known for a while but wasn’t allowed to tell anyone. Not even Marius or Damien, not you.”

  “It’s not so bad, right? It’s not like he’s President.”

  Baz pulled up one of the lefty blogs about his mom. “No. But she’s about to be a senator. They’ll dig into all aspects of her life.” He swallowed and spit the rest of it out. “They’ll investigate me, and everyone associated with me.”

  He waited to see how Elijah would react. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but what he got was Elijah’s face shuttering as he fixated on a dent in the tabletop. “So probably it’s not good for you to have controversial people around you right now.”

  Baz frowned. “No, the controversy will bloom up around me naturally. Why do you say that, though?”

  Elijah spun the computer closer to him, typed in his name. After clicking a link, he turned the computer to Baz. “I found this earlier today.”

  Baz read the bullshit about Elijah being a manipulative evil elf with bile in his throat. His nostrils flared, and he curled his fingers on the table edge. “What a bunch of fuckers. Don’t listen to it, Elijah. They’re a bag of skinny, withered dicks.”

  “Yeah, well, there are quite a few bags of dicks repeating this same shit. Like they all got together and decided to paint me as the kind of jerk who deserves to be shot.” He hunched into himself, reverting to the sour Elijah Baz had found huddling at the railing at Walter’s wedding. “I won’t be offended if you have to distance from me while this blows over. I get how it goes.”

  Baz pulled a chair close and took Elijah’s hand. “I don’t want to be distant from you. That’s not why I brought this up. I wanted you to know, is all. We might have to dodge reporters. I didn’t want you to be surprised.”

  Elijah remained slouched, and if Baz didn’t have such a tight hold on his hand, he’d have pulled it away. “Fine.”

  It wasn’t fine, but Baz didn’t know how to make it better.

  Elijah jerked his head at the door. “We should go get the room ready.”

  They worked in relative silence, their greatest conversation happening when they maneuvered the spare bed from Baz’s room down the stairs, or at least the parts of it Baz could handle. The others helped with the heavy mattress once they were back, and soon the house was full of happy chatter as Jilly and Mina plotted a room makeover and Brian busied himself with connecting Lewis’s computer to the house system. Aaron and Giles gave their new guest a tour of the kitchen and other public areas, encouraging Lewis to make himself at home.

  Baz and Elijah stood on the fringes, present but absent all the same. It occurred to Baz he should have the conversation with the others he’d had with Elijah, a warning of what might well be coming.

  All he wanted, though, was to find the way to wipe the hurt and isolation off Elijah’s face. Something he had absolutely no idea how to do.

  Chapter Eighteen

  For the first few days after Lewis moved in, everything continued as it had been, this time with Lewis decorating the couch and the kitchen table when he wasn’t working at food service. He dressed in either male clothing or decidedly ambiguous clothing exclusively, but Elijah noticed his housemates took pains to refrain from using pronouns and stumbled over whether to reference Lewis or Lejla.

  Elijah had a hard time balancing Googling himself with the quiet, steady process of Lejla’s coming out. He noticed Baz seemed screen-obsessed too, though they never discussed their findings. Baz disappeared several times with a severe-looking blonde woman in a navy suit, and when he returned, he always had a headache. Elijah assumed Baz Googled Elijah as much as Elijah Googled Baz, which meant Baz knew the drumbeat of conservative blogs eager to cast Elijah as some kind of evil gay mastermind was steadily growing, and Elijah knew the neighboring blogosphere was digging deeper and deeper into Gloria Barnett Acker’s closet, hoping to find pay dirt.

  They never discussed Elijah’s offer to fade into the background and take potential heat off Baz and his family, but as the articles about Elijah’s machinations grew longer and more intricate in their descriptions of his wickedness, Elijah w
orried he should bring it up in case Baz was about to do it first.

  Then one day they were both distracted from their private worries. At breakfast Elijah paused his obsessive Googling to tell Mina for the millionth time he truly, completely, utterly did not want to be in the Saint Timothy Chorale and had no plans to try out when the door to the kitchen opened…and Lejla walked in.

  As much as the first few days in residence had been gender male or gender ambiguous, this person was so clearly Lejla, female the vision took Elijah’s breath away. She wore a pretty sundress, dainty white ballet flats, a cardigan, and had a bow in her hair—all things he’d bought that day he’d exploded in Target. She lingered in the doorway, a little hunched, a lot unsure, and the rest of the house stilled, waiting.

  Eventually she spoke. “I’m Lejla today.”

  She seemed terrified—defiant, somewhat, but mostly dazed as if she’d announced she was jumping off the top of the chapel bell tower without a bungee cord.

  Mina rose first, embracing Lejla and murmuring quiet congratulations. Jilly joined in, and Aaron and Giles, and Brian. Elijah hovered to the side, unsure of how to hug it out until Mina pulled him into the thick of it.

  Baz, who remained perched against the sink, slow clapped. “I think this calls for a celebration. How do you want to mark the occasion, Lejla?”

  She was free of her hugging housemates now, her face flushed. “I’m not—this isn’t a full thing. I’m trying it out for today, and only in the house. Sorry if that’s ungrateful.”

  “Not at all. But I meant something here. For you, and for us to share with you.” Baz’s smile made Elijah shiver. “I was thinking about pizza, beer, and a Studio Ghibli marathon. Unless you’re busy this weekend?”