by Jack Harbon
“You having fun?” Rex called out, his stomach contracting beneath Jordan’s arms as he laughed.
“Hell yes,” Jordan shouted back.
Much to his disappointment, the ride ended five minutes later when Rex came to a halt outside of a building Jordan had never been to. He recognized it from the name—Riverside Library—and immediately, he was curious why they’d come here of all places.
As if reading his mind, Rex stepped off the bike and said, “Welcome to my second home.” Rex took the helmet from Jordan and squatted to lock it to his motorcycle before he continued. “My parents weren’t the best at the whole marriage thing. Lots of fighting, actually. Whenever things ended up too bad, I’d grab my little Huffy and pedal all the way out here for some peace and quiet. Ended up becoming best friends with all the librarians.”
Rex led the way through the double doors of the building, and Jordan followed close behind, looking around at one of the murals the neighborhood kids had all pitched in to create. He immediately recognized covers of some of the most notable children’s books in the business, each of them drawn by a child.
“At first, I mostly just stopped by to use the free internet. Back in the day, they even had a few games installed that I messed around with. Finally, one afternoon my favorite librarian Mr. Diaz came up to me and told me that I wasn’t allowed to sit on the computer all day. For every hour I played games, I had to read something. When I tell you I was pissed off…”
Jordan laughed at the idea of a tiny Rex Bailey glaring up at an authority figure. “What’d you do? Tell him off or something?”
“Believe it or not, no. I was mad, but I also would’ve rather spent every day here reading than another second at home. So, I told him to show me the best books and I’d consider it. He brought me to the shelf where they kept all the favorites.”
“What’d you read? Something like Harry Potter?”
“I read those, sure, but I had a secret favorite series that no one else knew about.” The smile on Rex’s face was just as mischievous as Jordan imagined he might wear when the man was younger. Conspiratorial, but so self-satisfied at the same time.
Jordan couldn’t help but grin as well. “What was it?”
“Sweet Valley High.”
“Bullshit,” Jordan said without thinking. He covered his mouth and looked around, immediately relieved that there weren’t any children around that could’ve overheard him. “You’re lying,” he insisted.
“No lie.” Rex took Jordan by the hand and led him through the stick-covered archway leading into the children’s section. An older Latino man sitting behind the counter looked up at him, and recognition crossed his face instantly.
“Is that little Rhett Bailey?” he demanded, his voice husky and booming.
“Yes, sir,” he said.
“You remember what I told you?” Mr. Diaz narrowed his eyes at Rex with faux severity.
Rex nodded almost obediently. “One hour of books, one hour of games. I sure do. Also, by any chance, do you still have those books I used to read? You know…the ones I didn’t want anyone else to know about?”
“Something tells me we might have one or two somewhere in here. We got rid of most of them when we updated a few years ago. Let me see…” The man rose from his chair, straightened out his argyle sweater over his round belly, and disappeared behind a shelf of books in the back of the room. A moment later, he returned with a copy of On the Edge. “This work for you?”
“This is perfect, thanks, Mr. Diaz.” Rex led Jordan to a small alcove in the back of the room, hidden from view. He took a seat in one of the armchairs and flipped through the weathered paperback until he got to the right page. “Aha,” he said, turning it around for Jordan to see.
Written in green pen at the bottom of one of the pages were the initials “R.B.” in handwriting that could only belong to a child.
Jordan traced his finger over the letters and smiled softly. “You know this is adorable, right? Like, almost too cute for me to believe that this was you?”
“We all have our dark pasts, JJ.”
Jordan cocked his head inquisitively. “JJ?”
“Do you hate it?”
After a moment of consideration, Jordan said, “Not at all.”
“Good.” Rex reached over to take the book back, flipping through it absently. “If I remember correctly, this is the first book in the series where things get very after-school special. The protagonist in this one does one bump of coke and straight up dies. Maybe not the best thing for me to be reading at nine, but it was far from the craziest shit that happened in this series.”
“And this was for kids?”
“Technically, it was for young adults, but… And in Francine’s defense, this was tamer than the following books. I haven’t even gotten to the girl that killed her foster sister and an old lady to pretend to be one of the twins, or when the girls thought there was a real-life werewolf in London killing people…”
Utterly fascinated with the mildly unhinged storylines of the series, Jordan got comfortable in the armchair facing Rex, smiling and nodding as the man went into great detail about the entire six-part miniseries leading to the 100th book or the three-part miniseries about the girls studying in England. He’d never seen Rex this animated before, and in the back of his mind, he had to wonder if this was what he looked like when he talked about Patricia Hayes. Did his eyes go wide like that? Did he move his arms around that much?
At the beginning of the afternoon, Jordan had wondered why Rex brought him to the Riverside library. For a moment, he’d worried he was bringing him here to tease him and show him “good” books, the same way he might have when they first met at Millerstone. But the more Rex went into detail, reading from On the Edge and other books he hopped up to collect, it was clear that this was Rex’s way of sharing his own love of stories with him.
For the first time, Rex dropped all pretenses and seemed to just be letting himself have fun, and despite the way he’d been left breathless in the kitchen after their first kiss, Jordan felt his heart race even more now.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Rex asked suspiciously, his mouth tugged into a lopsided smile that showed his slightly crooked teeth.
“No reason.”
“Bull—” He caught himself. “BS.”
“No BS,” Jordan insisted. “It’s just that I’ve never seen you be this excited before. About anything.”
Rex sat back in his chair and shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”
“It is a big deal. I think it’s really cool that you get this interested in these books. It’s actually really dang cute, too.” Cute was probably the last word he’d ever have used to describe Rex, with his rugged appearance and the aura of a troublemaker practically pulsating around him. Sexy, sure. Maybe even fine. But not cute.
Yet here he was, ready to reach over, pinch his cheeks, and call him a “wittle baby.”
“I’m not cute. You’re cute,” Rex said, muttering his compliment. “Are you having fun, though? I hope I’m not boring you too much.”
“Not at all. I can’t wait until you start talking about all the young adult books you read.”
Rex’s eyes went wide again. “Those are upstairs. C’mon, I’ll show you.”
Like before, he took Jordan’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together, and led him up the grand staircase in the middle of the first floor. Jordan almost couldn’t believe how excited he was to learn more about Rex, but in this moment, nothing mattered more than walking down memory lane with the man, hand in hand and wearing the widest, cheesiest smile he’d put on in weeks.
Seven
Jordan was starting to think that surprise trips were Rex’s thing. After their date to the library last week, Rex had insisted that he take Jordan somewhere else, and just like before, he refused to tell him anything about their destination. Even when Jordan begged and pleaded over the phone, Rex’s lips were tight.
“Just one hint?” Jor
dan asked as he climbed onto the back of Rex’s motorcycle.
“No hints, stop asking. I promise you’ll like it, alright?”
“Fine.” Jordan’s dejection was over the minute Rex revved up his engine and pulled away from the curb. Immediately, he was hit with the same rush of adrenaline that left him giddy with excitement. Even better, the ride took longer than before, giving Jordan time to admire Sweet Rose for just a bit longer.
At the stop light on Main Street, he turned his head to watch the Donovan Activity Center fill with people from all over town, some of them sporting workout clothes while other artsier types walked around with bags full of painting supplies. He’d only been to the building once before, for a birthday party when he was younger, but from what he remembered, it was a nice place to meet up with friends and become more social.
With all the free time he had after quitting his job, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to stop by sometime.
The thought of being unemployed still filled Jordan with existential dread, but Rex had become quite the distraction. They’d started talking on the phone even more, skipping texts altogether. Groundbreaking it wasn’t, but with how call-averse Jordan and his generation seemed to be, it felt like it held more weight than a simple Snapchat message.
Rex and Jordan sped off when the light turned green, and Jordan closed his eyes tight, dropping his chin on Rex’s shoulder. When he inhaled, he was greeted with the smell of citrus and something earthy and masculine. Just beneath all that, he could detect the lavender soap Rex used to wash his clothes.
The combination all added up to Rex, and Jordan wasn’t sure whether he’d ever smelled anything as nice, and warm, and inviting.
Rex cut the engine outside of a small suburban house with a lawn clearly in need of a bit of TLC. A large pink tricycle lay overturned near the driveway, and various other toys scattered the path up to the front door. Rex led the way, knocking a few times before he looked back at Jordan.
“Now, don’t be scared when you see him, okay?” he warned, and like clockwork, worry spread across Jordan’s face.
“What?”
Rex bit back his laughter and knocked again. Of course, there was nothing wrong with Omar’s face, but considering how nice he’d been to Jordan the past week, he figured the guy was long overdue for a bit of trolling.
A second later, the door opened, and a large Black man poked his head around the corner. “The fuck do you want, Rex? Do you know what time it is?”
“It’s noon, my guy. Wake your ass up.” Without another word, Rex pushed past him and gestured for Jordan to follow.
“Rex, I should really knock you on your pasty ass for waking me up. Teesha ain’t even here. I dropped her off at her mama’s house last night.”
“I didn’t come to see Teesha, actually.” He’d been over a few weeks ago to see his goddaughter—an experience that had tripped him out more than he’d expected. It felt like the last time he’d seen her, she was just learning how to walk, but now she was having full conversations with him and asking to play games on his phone.
“Why are you bothering me, then? And who is this?”
“This is Jordan,” he said, jerking his head towards the man. “We actually need your help with some shit. I’m paying too, so wake your grouchy ass up and log onto your computer.”
Omar and Jordan exchanged a quick raise of chins before Omar gave Rex a dirty look and headed into his office. Like the lawn outside, this room was also decorated with various Barbie dolls and action figures. A small table beside the desk housing a Mac and drawing tablet was littered with cut-up pieces of construction paper, spilled glitter, and an empty box of apple juice. Omar cracked his neck, tapped in his password, and looked back at his guests.
“Y’all can pull up chairs if you want.”
Rex grabbed two metal foldout chairs from the closet and set them up for him and Jordan, off to the side of Omar.
“What do you need?” Omar asked. “And how quickly am I getting paid?”
Rex reached into his pocket and slipped two bills across the table. Omar folded them into his wallet, clearly satisfied with however much Rex gave him. All the while, Jordan sat back, watching this play out, with no idea what the hell they were doing here in the first place.
“We need a flyer,” Rex said. “Something that’ll catch as much attention as possible. It’s for a book club.”
“Nigga, I know you’re not waking me up to work on some bullshit like this,” Omar laughed.
“I’m serious,” Rex insisted. “It’s for a club I’m part of. We’re trying to get as many people as we can to sign up for it, and you’re the best at that shit. We just need a little flyer. Something that’ll get all the old ladies in town excited.”
Jordan cleared his throat. “It’s, uh—it’s a club for reading romance novels.”
“You know what? I’m not even about to ask.”
Rex shot Jordan a hopeful smile, and a bit of the tension in Jordan’s body eased away. After having gone so long without having to defend Meet Cute Club, the potential for conflict had him on high alert.
Thankfully enough, any time Omar made a comment about how silly it all was, Rex shot him down, steering the conversation back to designing the poster. By the end of it, the final product was actually pretty damn incredible. The front of the flyer was designed like the cover of a historical romance, courtesy of a few stock photos Omar put together. The club’s name stood out in scrawling lavender letters, and all the relevant information was placed at the bottom of the page.
“Thoughts?” Omar asked, sitting back in his chair.
After a moment of inspection, Jordan smiled. “It’s perfect.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.” Omar saved the file, then dropped it into an email to send to Jordan.
Rex slapped his hand down on Omar’s shoulder, giving him a squeeze. “You did us a solid today, man.”
“Yeah, whatever. You know what you can do? You can take my trash out while you’re here, how ‘bout that?”
Rex let out a laugh and put his hands up in defeat. “Alright, fine. Least I can do.” He turned to Jordan. “Be right back.”
Once they were alone, Omar glanced at Jordan once more. “You know I was just fucking with you, right? About the club? We don’t really know each other, so I’m not trying to come off like an asshole just yet.”
There was something so relieving about Omar coming to him like this. He couldn’t be sure whether they were cool enough to talk to each other or not, but surprisingly, even without Rex in the room, he didn’t feel awkward at all. Jordan shrugged. “Rex does it all the time. I’m used to it by now.”
Amused, Omar said, “You wanna get under his skin and shut his ass up? Tell him his motorcycle’s wack. That’s a bullet straight through his heart.”
“I’ll remember that,” Jordan said, chuckling softly. “By the way… Did you, uh—did you wanna join the club?”
“Fuck no. But I admire your hustle. Good luck, my man. Hope you guys pull all kinds of new members.”
Rex returned a moment later, drying off his dampened hands on his hunter green t-shirt. His eyes darted from Jordan to Omar. “What were you two just talking about?”
Smirking, Jordan rose from his seat and said, “Nothing, nothing. You ready to go?”
“Yup, trash is all taken care of.”
“Good looking out,” Omar replied.
As the three of them made their way to the front door, Jordan looked back to say, “Hey, thanks again for your help. The flyer looks amazing.”
“Keep me in mind if you ever need another one. Leave this dude at home, though. I’d like to avoid him as often as I can.” Omar and Rex took a moment to shove each other before Rex led Jordan down to the curb where he’d left his bike. Now alone, Jordan said,
“Thank you for sticking up for me in there. You didn’t have to do that.”
Rex tossed him the helmet. “I know I didn’t. You could’ve handled yourself. But it’s pro
bably tiring as hell doing that all the time. Figured you needed a break.”
That statement shouldn’t have touched Jordan the way it did. This was a gesture friends made for each other. They stuck up for one another, even when they didn’t have to. Still, something about Rex’s willingness to speak up, even if Omar was only teasing him, felt like something important.
“Where to now?” Jordan asked. “Never mind. I’ll see, right?”
“Exactly,” Rex said with a wink.
Their next destination was just as foreign to Jordan, but when Rex pulled into the garage, Jordan knew they were back at his place. Inside, the home looked like it belonged to someone else with all the Precious Moments figurines lining tables and pictures of an older couple hanging from the walls.
“This is your house?” Jordan asked hesitantly.
“For the time being. It was actually my nana’s, but since she passed, I’m packing it all up and selling it.”
Jordan frowned, his thoughts going to his own grandmother. Would he be strong enough to pack up her place all on his own? He wasn’t certain, and he hated even thinking about it in the first place. “I’m sorry for your loss,” Jordan said. “What was she like?”
Rex took a seat at the table in the large kitchen, opening his laptop. While he waited for it to load, he looked up at Jordan. Sadness dotted his expression like the freckles on his face, barely visible from afar. “Nana was probably the most amazing woman I ever met—aside from my mom and Amy, of course. The same way the library was a home away from home, this place was, too. She let me spend all summer over here sometimes. Amy wasn’t old enough for the first few years, but when she turned five, she would stay with us. That’s actually us in that picture up there.”