Focus on Me

by Megan Erickson

  He frowned. “Hey, I like cards. And pigs. Gay pigs are even better.”

  The lady behind the counter wasn’t fazed by us. I couldn’t imagine this place was busy a lot, but then what did I know? Maybe there were a lot of pig-crazies around here.

  She rang up our purchases, including Riley’s hat and sunglasses. He also bought a pair of pig-shaped animal crackers and sauntered out of the shop ahead of me, munching away. I was happy because at least he was eating something.

  He slowed down so I caught up to him as we made our way to Butch.

  “Want one?” He held an animal cracker up to my mouth.

  I opened it in response, and he placed it on my tongue with a smile. They were a little stale. I didn’t imagine she sold out of those quickly.

  “Thanks a lot for finding that place,” I said after I swallowed.

  Riley shrugged. “No problem. You found a good gift?”

  I held up our bags. “Who doesn’t want a set of pig lights?”

  Riley bumped my shoulder, and then we climbed back into Butch with an excited Dallas and continued on the road.

  ***

  Things were great. Fantastic even.

  Until they weren’t.

  There were good moments, the times Riley was calm and content. The times he stroked my face and looked in my eyes like I was some sort of answer to every question he ever had.

  He took care of Dallas and he called me Francis with that sexy smirk to his mouth. And he screwed me into the mattress every night, and sometimes in the afternoons, too, and woke me up with his lips around my cock every morning.

  Those were the great times. The fantastic times.

  And then there were the times that weren’t. When those shadows that I thought we’d beaten crept back into his eyes. I caught him staring at his naked torso in bathroom mirrors. Sometimes he refused to eat all day.

  We were in a crappy motel room in Mississippi and Riley was quiet, unsettled. I’d asked him what was wrong but that seemed to agitate him further.

  “Need a shower,” he mumbled, and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him. I heard the water begin to run, and I turned on the TV. I found a rerun of some comedy and began watching it. I got so immersed in it that I lost track of time, and I wasn’t sure how long it had been when a commercial came on, and I realized Riley was still in the shower.

  I frowned and stood up, then knocked on the door.

  No answer.

  “Riley?” I called.

  Still no answer, just the steady beat of the water in the tub. “Fuck it,” I muttered and opened up the door.

  I didn’t see his shadow through the thin motel room shower curtain. “Riley?” I called again. And when I received no answer for the third time, I pushed the curtain aside.

  And I looked down.

  Riley sat on the floor of the tub, huddled into a ball. The water pelted him on the head, rivers running down his face. He slowly raised his head, eyelashes dripping, and stared right through me.

  It was the fucking eeriest thing I’d ever seen in my life. I wanted to cry or yell or do anything but stay calm. Instinct kicked in, though, the caretaker gene that said I had to get Riley out of this shower and warm him up because the water had now run cold. And I didn’t know how long it’d been cold.

  I turned off the faucet and hauled him up by slipping my arms under his armpits. I dried him off gently, ruffling his hair, stroking the towel over his face, chest, and down his legs. This task was the only thing keeping me from losing my shit.

  I sat him on the edge of the bed, and that was when he finally focused on me. He looked so pale and fragile with his wet hair plastered to his scalp, his lips a dull color from the cold water. “I’m—” He licked his lips. “I’m sorry, I don’t . . .” His voice trailed off, and he just stared at me, completely lost.

  Those shadows, well, they were taking over.

  That was when I got the first inkling that there was something much larger than me and Riley, and it wasn’t something I could fix with a little care and a lot of orgasms.

  Even though Riley seemed intent on fucking his way into the sunlight, I didn’t think it was possible. The problem was that I didn’t know where those shadows came from. And I didn’t know if they planned to remain gray and threatening or if they were about to unleash hell.

  I didn’t know what brought all this on, and I wasn’t sure Riley knew, either.

  After the shower incident, we lay in the motel room bed. We’d snuck Dallas in through the back, hoping like hell the owners didn’t notice and kick us out. He was asleep in the corner, snoring a little. Riley was wrapped around me, clutching me like I was his heart walking outside of his body.

  For the last week, I’d loved how he held me. I’d loved how much he needed me. But now . . . I wasn’t so sure this was right. The need he had for me, which had once filled me full of pride, was turning sour in my gut, twisting into something ugly where it had once been so good. His embrace felt desperate now, rather than satisfying, like he wanted to crawl inside me.

  I took a deep breath and began the complicated process of extricating myself from Riley’s embrace without him waking him. I managed to do it by tucking my pillow in his arms. I slipped on a pair of jeans, shoved my bare feet into my boots, grabbed my phone, and stepped outside of our room. I locked it behind me and walked down to the parking lot.

  I cringed at the time, but dialed the number anyway.

  “’Lo?” said a sleepy voice in my ear.

  I smiled. “Hey, you.”

  There was a rustling over the line. “Colin?” Jess was waking up now. I could see her stretch and yawn, her blond hair in a crazy mop on her head.

  “Yeah, it’s me. Sorry it’s so late.”

  “S’okay. You can call me anytime.”

  “You asleep?”

  “Not at all.”

  I chuckled. She’d totally been asleep. “How’re things?”

  “Same.” She paused. “Miss you.”

  I stared up at the door to our motel room, half expecting Riley to fling it open and scream my name. “Miss you, too.”

  “You okay?”

  I toed a loose piece of gravel. “Dunno.”

  “What’d ya mean ‘dunno’?”

  I continued to pick at the gravel.

  “How’s Catwalk?”

  My head shot up. “Who?”

  “I heard you call him that on the phone, when you bought him yogurt.”

  “His name’s Riley,” I muttered.

  “This about him?”

  I huffed out a breath. “Yeah.” She didn’t say anything, waiting me out in that annoying but completely effective way she had. “I’m scared, Jess. In a way I’ve never been before with another person. He’s . . . something’s not right. And I feel like a traitor saying that but something’s wrong, Jess. He’s sad . . . and sometimes I think he’s so far in his head, he doesn’t know how to get out. And I don’t think it’s such a good place in there.” I gripped the phone tighter. “And I don’t know if he knows what’s going on and he’s lying or if he has no clue. And I have no fucking idea which I prefer.”

  She was quiet for a while. “Do you think he’s got some sort of mental illness?”

  I squinted at the moon. “Like what?”

  “Like anxiety or depression or bipolar or . . . any number of things.”

  “Don’t know enough about ’em. Not a doctor, Jess.”

  “Can you talk to his friends or his family?”

  “I don’t know any of his friends. He never talks about them. And he says he doesn’t talk to his parents even though they seem to call his phone a lot. He never answers.”

  “Does he have any sort of coping method?”

  I could feel the blush in my cheeks. “I—we—”

  “Okay, I got the picture.” Jess laughed.

  “What should I do?” I heard the pleading in my tone and I didn’t even try to disguise it.

  “If it’s that
bad . . . he needs help. Real, professional help. And I don’t think he can fuck it away.”

  “Jessica! Watch your mouth!” I hissed.

  I could practically see her rolling her eyes. “Oh, shut up, Colin.”

  I bit my lip. “I don’t think this is going to go well, trying to talk to him about this.”

  “You care about him?”

  I cared about him more than was healthy, which was why this was so dang hard. “Yeah, yeah I do.”

  “Then tell your caretaker gene it’s stronger than your no-drama gene.”

  I snorted. “You got me pegged. All right, thanks for the talk. I’ll let you go back to sleep now.”

  “Come home soon, Colin,” she whispered. “Good luck and I love you.”

  “I will, and I love you, too.”

  I ended the call and stayed outside for a while until my feet hurt and my bare chest felt numb from the chilly night air.

  I slipped back inside the motel room quietly. Dallas raised his head and looked at me, then settled back down. Riley was still asleep, holding on to that damn pillow for all he was worth. I stripped back down and replaced myself with that pillow. Riley gripped tighter and shoved his face into my neck, throwing his thigh over my legs.

  I raised my hand up to my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose as a headache began to form. I’d thought Riley and I made a great team, that the need we had for each other fulfilled us.

  But I was starting to see how unhealthy this was. Sure, this might work for the short road trip this summer, but in the grand scheme of life, this behavior wouldn’t be okay with how badly Riley needed me. How badly he clung to me. And I’d been rewarding him this whole time for it, because I was soaking up his need for me like a sponge.

  We were enablers. We were fucking enablers, and I doubted I was strong enough to quit Riley. And without me around, Riley’s shadows would wreak havoc.

  I pressed a kiss to the top of Riley’s head. “I’m so sorry, baby.” I wasn’t sure what I was sorry for yet, but I needed to start my apologies now, I was sure of that.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Landry,

  It’s coming back. I can feel it, this shadow at my back that never goes away. And right now it’s content to hang out, but one of these days, it’s going to make its move. I’m not sure if I’m ready.

  And now I wonder, when I embarked on this trip, had I wanted to feel alive? Or had I been secretly hoping this whole time that I wouldn’t? Because then I wouldn’t have to make the decision; it would be made for me.

  Colin fucked that all up now, though. He fucked up how I planned to end my future. He made me want things again.

  But how long can I live on this borrowed time? How long until the flame runs out and I’m right to back where I’d been?

  —R

  ***

  We were in Tennessee. We’d be in North Carolina the next day, although it’d be a whole other day before we reached the ocean.

  We were at a small burger joint across from our motel. We’d left Dallas on his bed, in a rare moment that he’d been content to let Riley out of his sight.

  The restaurant was an odd crowd, a mix of locals and some kids from the nearby college. Although I didn’t know why I was calling them kids. Some of them were probably older than me.

  A couple of guys in the corner were eyeing up Riley. They weren’t necessarily being discreet about it, which surprised me in this state, but what did I know? We might have happened upon a liberal town. I didn’t know. I didn’t really care. I just wanted a burger, a beer, and then Riley’s hot mouth on my skin back in our motel room.

  Riley, though—well, he seemed antsy. He kept shooting looks at the table of guys, and they weren’t good looks, either. His lips were turned down and frown lines marred his forehead. I sipped my beer and leaned into him. “Hey, what’s wrong with you?”

  He wouldn’t look at me, twisting at the waist to scan the bar. “Those guys are looking at you.”

  I snorted. “They aren’t looking at me, Catwalk. Get real.”

  He scowled at me, and while he only had water to drink, his face was flushed a deep red. “I am getting real. They’re checking you out and I don’t like it.”

  It was my turn to frown. “Okay, again, they’re looking at you. And even if they were looking at me, who gives a fuck? I’m leaving here with you, dumbass, and I’m sleeping in that bed with you while our dog snores on the floor. Chill out.”

  It was like he didn’t hear me. His fingers tapped a nervous rhythm on our table as his eyes darted all around, like he couldn’t figure out what to focus on first. “Can’t they see we’re here together? I don’t like them looking.”

  “Yeah, you already mentioned you didn’t like it. Riley, stop. Focus on me.”

  He ignored me, craning his neck around. “Look, they’re talking to the waiter and gesturing over here. What, they think they can buy you a drink and you’re going to go home with them or something?”

  He was fuming like a lunatic, making up shit in his head. And I didn’t need this. Not when I was already worried about him. This possessiveness was uncomfortable and incredibly unnecessary. I smacked my palm flat on the table. “Riley, look at me!”

  He snapped his head to me, eyes wide. “What?”

  “Will you please fucking ignore those guys? We’ll eat and leave. That’s it, okay?” His mouth opened, and I could tell he was about to protest, so I cut him off. “Please?”

  He closed his lips, and then nodded mutely. He wasn’t happy about it, but at least he’d listened to me.

  He was quiet as we ate, picking at his fries and sucking on the lemon that came with his water.

  The group in the corner continued to drink, and they grew louder. Sometimes a particularly loud voice would rise above the others on a shout and Riley would flinch. I brushed my hand over his and smiled at him, but he returned it weakly.

  After I ate my burger, I threw some money on the table and told Riley I had to take a piss.

  His eyes widened in alarm for a second, and I hesitated. Maybe I could wait . . . but then Riley nodded and waved me on, so I made my way down the hallway to the restrooms.

  I pushed the door open, noting that all four urinals were empty. I chose the one on the far left and unzipped. The door opened behind me as I was midstream, and I didn’t turn around, focusing on what I was doing.

  Now, there was a certain guy etiquette when it came to urinals. If possible, always piss two urinal lengths apart. It was just courtesy, man. I didn’t make the rules, but they’ve been there since the dawn of time. Hell, cavemen probably had a system like, stand two woolly mammoth femurs away or something. They’d say it in grunts and shit. Like, two grunts and a bark meant, “Two femurs, bruh. Two.”

  But this guy . . . well, he was from the loud, probably gay table, and he sidled up right next to me in his hipster beanie and black skinny jeans.

  He made a big show of rolling his hips as he unzipped and I didn’t miss his forearm flexing out of the corner of my eye, like he was giving himself a stroke or two. All I could think was holy hell, I so did not need this right now.

  I finished up, tucked myself back in and zipped my jeans, then turned away from him without acknowledging that he’d broken guy code by pissing right next to me. I washed my hands with my head down, eager to get the hell out of there before he tried to strike up a conversation.

  Too late, because as I turned the faucet off and went to grab a paper towel, he was there, right there in front of me, holding out a towel. He was reasonably attractive, with green eyes and blond hair escaping from around the edges of his knit cap. He had a big mouth with huge lips. I was never one for a quick pick-up, but even in the past, I might have made an exception for this guy.

  But this was the present, and Riley was outside that door.

  I glared at Beanie Guy, because he hadn’t washed his hands. I wiped my wet hands on my shirt and he shrugged, tossing the towel into the nearby trash. He placed his hands on his
hips and I would have left if it didn’t require me to walk through him to get to the door.

  “You and your boyfriend have plans later?” he asked.

  I considered that pretty damn bold. “How do you know he’s my boyfriend?” He raised an eyebrow and that irritated the hell out of me. “Yeah, we got plans, so excuse me.” I took a step to the side and so did he. Then he took a step forward into my personal space and irritation pricked up my spine like needles.

  “Well, I got a thing for blue eyes and muscles. And it seems you have a thing for pretty boys, so I’m sure this will all work out.” He grinned, those big lips parted in an invitation for which I had no plans to RSVP.

  He reached out and ran a finger down a vein on my bicep. I clenched my fists. Not that I was going to hit him, but it was the only way to keep my irritation from flaring into anger.

  I leaned in, about to give him a piece of my mind, when the door to the bathroom flew open. It hit Beanie Guy on the back, so he stumbled forward. I instinctively reached out to catch and so that’s what Riley saw. Beanie Guy in my arms.

  It was a comedy, truly. Which was why I laughed. Beanie Guy stared at me and Riley sure as hell wasn’t laughing. He looked like he wanted to rip the beanie off this guy and tear it to bits. And then do the same to his face.

  I set Beanie Guy gently aside and gestured to Riley, “Come on, Catwalk. Let’s get out of here.”

  He ignored me. “What was going on in here?”

  I waved a hand dismissively at Beanie Guy, who for the first time seemed to regret his forwardness as he withered beneath Riley’s considerable scowl. “He wanted to know where you got your boots,” I lied. “Now come on.”

  Again Riley ignored me, turning on Beanie Guy. “You like my boots so much, you’re free to have one up your ass if you keep flirting with my boyfriend.”

  Oh for God’s sake. “Riley, knock it off.” I grabbed his arm and tugged. He stumbled back toward the door with me, but he hadn’t taken his eyes off Beanie Guy.

  “He’s off-limits,” Riley hissed.

  The venom in the words made me wince. Back in Dallas, those words had soothed me. But maybe I’d tried to hold on to them too long, tried to make them into something they weren’t because now they just sounded spoiled. Rotten. Poisonous.