Bowerbirds

by Ada Maria Soto

  “You’ve got a game, right?”

  “Last of the season.”

  “Mind if I tag along? Tamyra told me not to answer any important messages until I feel less hungover, which at this rate means I shouldn’t be doing any work until at least six, maybe seven.”

  “Sure,” Dylan said, moving his dishes to the sink. “The last game always has good crowds.”

  “Nervous?”

  “Meh. We’re enough games ahead that we could not show up and still get a pennant. We’re just out to have fun today.”

  “And win?” Gabe added.

  “Always.”

  The game wasn’t quite as casual as Gabe had been led to believe. The Cougars might have had the whole series in the bag, but their competitors, the Mustangs, wanted to see them go out with a loss. Or at least some injuries. Gabe winced as a Mustang crashed into first base with more force than was strictly necessary, turning baseball into a full-contact sport. The Cougars retaliated by tagging the same player out at second via a ball/fist driven into his stomach. The crowd started to get ugly by the third inning.

  “Does it get like this often?” Gabe whispered to James.

  “Once in a while. It doesn’t take much to get teenaged boys amped up. The coaches will try to calm them down between innings. In theory.”

  By the fifth, the score was tied, and the casualty count was rising. An “accidentally” bad pitch clipped one batter on the side of the head. Runs into home were starting to look like football tackles, to the terror of the poor catchers. Dylan was reasonably safe in the outfield, but every time he came up at bat, James’ fingers dug into Gabe’s knee. Gabe was sure he’d have bruises but didn’t do anything to stop it.

  There was a crack of the bat, and the ball arched high. Dylan broke into a sprint. The ball dropped into the edge of the outfield as Dylan rounded for second. There was a toss and the dull thud of the ball connecting with the second baseman’s glove. Dylan slid, his bad ankle heading in first. Gabe winced as James’ fingers dug in deep.

  A small cloud of dust settled, and the umpire called safe. Dylan didn’t get up right away, and James leapt to his feet with Gabe right behind, his heart in his throat. Then Dylan pried himself out of the dirt with just one foot. Gabe started to wonder if a summer would be enough to recover from orthopedic surgery, James’ pride be damned. Dylan took a breath and put his other foot down. He stood for half a second before leading off to third. James sat back down, and Gabe took his hand, giving it what he hoped was a comforting squeeze.

  Dylan was tagged out at third, and the inning was over after the next batter up bunted.

  The game was still tied up in the ninth when Dylan got his last at bat. Gabe had been watching him in the outfield. He didn’t seem to be limping or in any pain, but Gabe could recognize a good poker face a mile off. Dylan could be screaming inside without so much as a frown touching his face.

  Dylan got pitched four junk balls that resulted in four fouls and a walk. It was a cheap move, but Gabe was quietly relieved that Dylan wouldn’t be sliding into anything. The next kid up, a skinny little thing who hadn’t done anything but bunt or get struck out, walked up to the plate. He swung at the first two balls for two easy strikes. He caught a piece of the next, sending the ball practically behind him. The pitcher smirked from the mound and tossed a ball that was nearly invisible with its speed. There was a crack. The ball sailed into the air and kept going. The outfielders jumped for it, but it landed just in front of the fence. The kid made it to second while two other players made it home. Gabe could see tears in the kid’s eyes.

  “That’s the first time he’s made it past first base all season,” James said as the crowd cheered.

  “Good for him.”

  “They only keep him around because he’s a great shortstop.”

  The skinny kid was lifted by his teammates, still in tears, while the Cougars’ fans took to the field.

  James hugged his son, and Dylan lifted his dad right off the ground in return. Gabe offered a handshake and a slap on the back. A girl pushed her way through the crowd; she didn’t look like the baseball type. Her short black hair was spiked and frosted with glossy dark blue tips that matched her blue eyeliner and knitted fingerless gloves. Gabe didn’t know you could get eyeliner that shade of blue.

  Dylan turned and saw her. “Catherine.” He pulled her into a hug, and she hugged him back. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

  “Like I’d miss your last game.”

  Gabe wondered if this was Catherine, the love of Dylan’s life. Judging by the type of smile on his face, he was willing to bet yes.

  “How’s your ankle?” she asked.

  “It’s fine,” Dylan answered a little too quickly.

  “Hi, Catherine,” James greeted.

  “Hello, Mr. Maron.”

  “I hear you got into Boston U, congratulations.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you coming to the party?” Dylan asked, full of eager energy.

  “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  Dylan’s smile got brighter, and Gabe felt a little pity. He’d spent time pining away for someone who just wanted to be a friend.

  Gabe let himself and the niggling remains of his hangover be whisked along to the postseason party. Someone had booked a pizza place where each player seemed determined to eat an entire pizza on their own. Coach Frasier had some strict ideas and policies regarding athletes’ nutrition that were rapidly going out the window.

  Gabe nibbled his pizza, drank some full-sugar soda, and reminisced on his own high school days. Off in the corner, Dylan talked quietly to Catherine. The suave ladies’ man player act was gone, and his body language spoke of a man tragically in love and more than a little desperate.

  James sat down next to Gabe with another slice of pizza for himself. He spent a few minutes watching the little teenaged drama as well. “How long has Dylan been desperately in love with her?”

  “Since he was seven. She lived down the hall from us with her mother for about six months while a divorce shook out. She was the first girl not to fall for his act.”

  “I can see how that would become love.”

  “It’s one of the reasons I like her. They actually dated a couple of years ago, but she wanted to focus on her music.”

  Dylan picked up her hand in his.

  “What’s he doing now?”

  “Trying to talk her into going with him to prom.” Catherine rolled her eyes, tilting her whole head back in the process. “Not sure how well it’s going.”

  Gabe wiped the pizza grease from his lips. Before getting sidetracked by alcohol the night before, there was something he’d been planning to ask James. Dylan’s plight brought it back to mind.

  “Actually there’s been something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

  “Yes.”

  “Um…. Every May, TechPrim throws itself a birthday party. The employees call it prom as sort of a joke. There are rented tuxes and formal dresses, a certain amount of lame dancing, and someone always gets drunk and tries to have sex in the bathroom. Anyway, I was wondering if you’d like to come with me this year?”

  “You’re inviting me to prom?” There was laughter in James’ words.

  “Basically, yeah.”

  James grinned. “Okay. Sure. I kind of missed prom the first time around. I don’t have a tux, though.”

  “Don’t worry. I can arrange something. I know people.” In the far booth, Dylan suddenly grinned while Catherine rolled her eyes again, but she was also smiling. “That boy does know how to be persistent.”

  “That he does.”

  “So,” James started as soon as he and Dylan got through the apartment door. “Taking Catherine to prom?”

  “Technically we’re going stag together because we’re not together, and she doesn’t really believe in social conventions like prom.”

  “You talked her into going to prom with you.” Dylan took a bow. “You do know she’s going to the other sid
e of the country?” As much as James liked Catherine, she was the first and possibly only girl to truly break Dylan’s heart.

  “I know. And there will be other people there, and she’ll probably hook up with someone and date and whatnot but….”

  “Boston is a long way.” He didn’t want to hurt Dylan, but he was never sure if Dylan was fully in reality when it came to Catherine.

  “I know, I know.” Dylan’s face fell, and he took a deep breath. “I know how this story ends. I do. I’m not an idiot. Can I just live in complete denial until she leaves in August? I mean, I know the odds and what’s what but… denial? Please?”

  “Sure.” James gave his arm a small squeeze. “How’s your ankle?”

  “It’s fine,” Dylan answered. James gave him a hard look. Dylan was bad about underplaying injuries and seemed determined to give James a stress-related ulcer or aneurysm over it. “It’s a little tender but not bad, and I’ve got some time to rest it up now, and I will. Promise.”

  “I just worry.”

  “I know, and I’m fine. Now how about you? You and Gabe looked like you were plotting something.”

  James allowed the change in subject. “Oh, that—apparently there’s a company birthday party or something, and he wants me to go with him.”

  Dylan froze for a second. “The TechPrim prom? Of course you’d go, you’re dating the CFO. Telling you this right now, Dad, it’s kinda a big deal. TechPrim goes all out for these things. You’re going to end up in the gossip columns again.”

  Gabe hadn’t mentioned that, probably on purpose. James didn’t like to back out of things he’d agreed to, and he was pretty sure Gabe had learned that about him as well.

  He gave a little internal growl. “As long as my team doesn’t forward it around campus, I’ll live. And it might be nice if they spell my name correctly as well.”

  James hit send on an e-mail that listed the weekend support problems and pointed out tactfully that hiring just one more person to do support on weekends would cut down on the amount of Monday morning that was spent answering angry messages and cranky e-mails.

  He looked up at the pencils hanging over his head, then glanced down at his phone. It was a habit, checking for missed calls, despite the fact that his new phone would actually ring. Not that people called him all that often, but he was hoping to hear from Gabe. He wasn’t expecting it, but he was hoping.

  “Hey, Boss?”

  “Yes, Dave?” James didn’t even turn around.

  “There are some guys at the front desk who want to see you.”

  James looked over his shoulder. “Who?”

  Dave shrugged and gestured at the door. James would have chastised him about his message-taking abilities again, but for the past two days, he hadn’t noticed a slick of Cheetos residue on any workstation or on Dave himself. He figured that earned Dave a couple of days’ grace before starting in on his next bad habit.

  At the front desk were a couple men in jeans and TechPrim polo shirts along with a couple of large boxes.

  “James Maron?” one of the men asked.

  “Yes?”

  “We’re here to install your new servers.”

  James looked around to see if they were possibly talking to someone else. “That contract was only signed on Friday… afternoon.”

  The man looked at a clipboard. “We have an order here that says these servers are to be installed and set up immediately, correctly, and are to be working perfectly by the end of the day… or else.”

  The man turned the clipboard around so James could see the work order. It included a handwritten note that did in fact end with the words “or else.” It wasn’t Gabe’s handwriting, but there was definite emphasis behind the words.

  “Okay. Follow me, then.” James led them down to the server room. He looked around at the missing floor tiles and exposed cables and felt like he had unexpected house guests and hadn’t picked up first. He showed them to the space once occupied by Mister McFeely. “There we go.”

  Martin, who was studying networking, showed up as the guys were breaking into the boxes. He picked up one of the user manuals that had come with boxes and flipped it open to the page listing all the vitals. He made a rather inappropriate noise.

  “Boss, if you don’t want your boyfriend, I’ll take him.”

  “You’re straight.”

  Martin held up the page that listed the RAM, storage, and processing power of the box. “For this, I’d go there.”

  James noticed the TechPrim guys had their eyes focused firmly on their work. He took the manual away from Martin. “Go get the cabling binder so we’re not trying to update it in a month.”

  James pulled out his phone to send a quick text. Normally he got irritated when people tried to interfere with his job, but he was looking at a new TPARC 12 core 3.6Ghz N6-32x server with 32 terabytes of memory and a service agreement that could make a grown man weep. That bought a lot of forgiveness.

  Thank you.

  A minute later James got a text that was a colon, a dash, and a star. He stared at it until Martin got back.

  “Martin, what’s this emoticon?” He hoped it wasn’t rude, but he didn’t think Gabe would send anything like that.

  Martin laughed. “It’s a kiss.”

  James looked at it again and tilted his head. “Oh! Okay.”

  He hit reply and texted back a kiss in return.

  7

  Gabe sighed as his body cooled against his new sheets, and his head settled onto James’ naked thigh. It had been an exhausting bitch of a week. He hadn’t had more than four hours’ sleep on any given night. He hadn’t even been able to find time to call James more than once. For a week almost, their entire relationship had been conducted via text messages. That might work for young people, but by Friday evening, Gabe desperately wanted to actually hear James’ voice—in person if at all possible.

  James’ fingers stroked through Gabe’s hair.

  It hadn’t been their most energetic tumble, but it had been soft and sweet and had drained the last of Gabe’s energy from his body. He yawned. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. You look exhausted.”

  “I feel exhausted.”

  “You should sleep, then.”

  “My phone is probably going to ring any second.” Gabe had started to hear it ring in his sleep, only to wake up and find it silent.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Gabe closed his eyes as James’ fingers slipped through his curls, and with a soft breath, he slept.

  When he opened his eyes, his head was on a pillow, a blanket had been pulled over his body, and his fingers were interlaced with James’. He wondered if he’d been chewing on them in his sleep or if James had noticed that a few of them were going raw after the last week.

  He didn’t ask because James was fast asleep and the room was dark. Gabe must have already been asleep when James pulled up the blankets and turned off the lights. For once his phone didn’t seem to be ringing. He closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.

  When Gabe’s phone did finally ring, it was early, but at least the sun was up. He fumbled for it but didn’t recognize the number coming in. He sent it to voice mail, hoping it wouldn’t wake James, but it was too late, and James was already sitting up.

  “Hey, how’d you sleep?” James’ voice sounded gravelly, and he cleared his throat.

  “Good. Surprised my phone didn’t ring. You should go back to sleep, though. Get a few more hours.”

  James stretched. “I’m awake. I’m usually up at this hour.”

  Gabe pulled him close so James was cuddled up against his body. “Have you got plans for the weekend?” Gabe might have been told, but his mind was so muddled from too much work and not enough sleep that he could have easily forgotten.

  “Just regular stuff. Laundry, shopping. Might have dinner with my parents on Sunday. Dylan’s got some big tests and essays coming up, so he’s going to have his head in his books all weekend. In theory at any rate.”r />
  “What you’re saying is you don’t have to dash away at any point this morning?” That was exactly what Gabe wanted to hear.

  “Not unless our new server catches fire. Thank you for that, by the way.”

  “My pleasure. This job has got to have a couple of perks.”

  “A couple?”

  He caught James’ lips in a kiss. “Well, it does have a bad habit of cutting into my boyfriend time, and there aren’t many perks that can make up for that.” James didn’t reply, just kissed him back.

  The sun was a good deal higher in the sky, and Gabe had let two more calls go to messages by the time they rolled out of bed and into the shower. He wasn’t up for another round as he stood under the spray, James’ body spooned against his, but he wished he was. From the other room, he could just make out the sound of his phone. He was tempted to go get it just so he could drown the thing.

  He told himself it was the job. It was the job he loved. It made him a fortune. He got to work with his best friends. He got to see the world and put in motion ideas that would change that world. It was also the job every single boyfriend had dumped him over. They usually had other excuses; they met someone else, they were moving, they felt there were compatibility issues, but at the end of the day, it was the job. Always the job.

  He gave James an extra squeeze and tried to shake the ghost of relationships past from his head. James felt too nice in his arms to be thinking about all of that.

  James twisted around in his arms and laid his head against Gabe’s shoulder. “We should get out soon. We’ll get all wrinkly.”

  “Yeah,” Gabe agreed but made no move to leave. In the distance a phone rang. He squeezed his eyes shut and tightened his arms around James.

  James squeezed him back. “I’m sure you’ll get everything done that you need to.”

  “I’m sure I will too. Doesn’t mean camping out at a high-altitude lake with no cell coverage doesn’t sound really appealing right now.”

  James rubbed his back. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s my own damn fault. I just need to take a deep breath, keep focused, and push through. Eye on the prize and all that shit.”