Tennishness
Title: So You Think You Can Tell (Pt. 10)
Pairing: Casey/OMC (?), C/Z (past)
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: Familiarity and simplicity doesn't fit in certain ways.
However uncomfortable it was to return to the party, that unease had a purpose attached to it, now. Casey reentered the main room, finding it as busy as he’d left it. He stayed at the doorway to scan the many faces, wanting Jeremy’s, now…
“Hey! You made it back, awesome.”
Casey turned and found Thomas standing behind him off to the left, coming from the hall leading to the ‘quiet spaces’. Casey steeled himself in turning and saying, “Um, yeah, but-where’s Jeremy?”
“Dunno, actually. Last I knew, he was down in the game-room,” Thomas replied.
Great. The very last thing he wanted to do was trek downstairs, gulp down cigar and pot smoke, deal with the sound of chips hitting felt… “Well, I… I gotta find him, cos’-I called for a ride home,” Casey said. Thomas’ smile faded away and a look of concern came on.
“You did? Oh… just, not feeling any better?”
“No. I really want to get home, but-don’t wanna cut into Jeremy’s fun, either.”
Thomas let out a defeated sigh. “Well, I know that I barely know you, but… seriously, if it’s anything other than you not feeling good, like-if it has anything to do with someone like Tim saying something or…”
“Not really, no, I’m just-“
“HEY there!”
Casey stopped dead in talking to Thomas as Jeremy came over, a bright smile on his face. “Hey…” Casey said.
“Feeling better after some chill-time, are we?” Jeremy asked, slinging his arm over Casey’s shoulders. How awkward was this going to get… settling on ‘epically fucking awkward’, Casey coughed into his fist and brought his gaze up to Jeremy’s.
“I’m-sorry, Jer, but-I called for a ride home. Cos’… yeah, I’m really not feeling any better,” he said in the softest, most apologetic tone he could muster. It didn’t work well enough for Jeremy to keep his smile on. It disappeared in a shot; the young man blinked slowly and frowned.
“Huh? But…”
“Um, I’ll… get your coat?” Thomas stammered, walking slowly backwards toward the foyer.
“Wait, no-wait.” Jeremy made a single, nervous chuckle and came close to pouting as he said, “I was just telling my friend Brandon you were here, and he’s wanting to meet you. A bunch of others, too, the ones who just flew in.”
“I’m-sorry, like I said…”
“What’s wrong, what’s going on?”
Casey felt defensive, hearing Jeremy’s tone go from confused to hurt and frustrated. He did his best to stay calm and understanding, however. “Jer… I just… I’m tired, and I don’t feel right. Y’know? Like, these are all your friends, and of course I feel selfish over asking if we could leave. So-I’m getting my own way home, so you don’t have to fuss over me. That’s all,” he explained, best he could.
“But…” Jeremy looked around Casey to where Thomas was waiting by the coats. “Come… come on, just for a sec…”
“Jer,” Casey said, but the young man beckoned him to follow him. He said something quick to Thomas as he stepped past him, coming to a stop in the doorway of the foyer’s large closet space. Thomas nodded, looked between them and made his way to the main room. He paused by Casey and shrugged.
“If, uh, you leave before I come back, it was nice to meet you,” he said.
“The same. Thanks, Thomas,” Casey replied.
The young man smiled, let out a huff of breath and sauntered off. Casey watched him go a moment before turning back and going over to where Jeremy stood. “What?” he asked.
“In here,” Jeremy said, stepping further into the small room.
Apprehensive but determined, Casey joined him. Now past the doorway, Jeremy kicked up the stopper holding it open and let it close. The moment it did, he said, “Tell me what’s going on, what’s wrong.”
“It’s not about something being ‘wrong’, Jeremy…”
“It’s Tim, isn’t it? Don’t deny it, when he’d-“
“No!” Casey came close to shouting. He cast a worried glance to the door but sighed and went on, “It’s not one jerk spoiling it all, I swear! But-seriously, it was a big thing, me getting up the nerve to come here with you to start with.”
“Why, what do you mean? I know you were nervous, being around loads of people, all of us as loaded as we are, I GET it, but…” Jeremy scoffed, raised his arms quick then dropped them in a slap along his sides. “Everyone really likes you, Case. Can’t you see that? Thomas alone thinks you’re, HIS words, ‘a delightful young thing’.”
“And I really, really like him, I’ve liked just about everybody right back.”
“Then what the hell IS it?”
This was turning into an argument, now. Casey tried taking a few breaths to ease the tension before saying, “I’m… out-of-place, here. WAY out-of-place. Out of my depth, really.”
“But how? What, money, big houses? Who cares?” Jeremy retorted.
“It’s more than having money or ‘things’, it’s… that… it’s how you live. What you do,” Casey tried to explain. “Nothing here that you, or anyone does, is what I do.”
“Is that criticism? Like, it’s somehow my fault that I was born into a rich family, or something?”
“Of COURSE not, Jer. No. But it’s different. Too different, and… I mean, coke?”
“Huh? What coke?”
“Have you ever done it? Cos’ I didn’t say anything before, but… two guys came into the bathroom I was finishing up in, all to snort some lines together. When I told Tom, there, he said it was something that basically just ‘happened’ at these get-togethers you guys have,” Casey said.
Another pause followed with Jeremy huffing breaths in and out before replying, “If I told you that yes, I HAVE done a couple bumps in my lifetime, should I expect you to start judging me up and down? Cos’ yes, I have, exactly twice. Once here at another party Thomas threw, the other at another party, at Danielle’s,” he said. He stiffened, arms coming up to cross over his front. “So go ahead, judge away.”
“Okay, stop-I’m not judging you. Okay? Not. Judging you. I know enough about stuff like that. But with what I know, it only…” Casey folded his hands together over the top of his head and he groaned. “…I put on the clothes you brought me, even though they’re not ‘me’; I came to a party full of people I didn’t know and no matter how nice I am or they are, I can’t really relate to them in any way. I’m not about to villainize someone for doing whatever drug, but I don’t like being around them-“
“Says the one who toked-up with his ex-boyfriend,” Jeremy said in an angry spit. Casey furrowed his brow hard, but before he could splutter an angry retort, Jeremy put on a sarcastic expression then leaned in to add, “And like hell that guy’s piss-test wouldn’t show an entire pharmacy’s worth of substances…”
Casey couldn’t help his jaw from dropping. “Um… what? Oh, no, don’t even…”
“Don’t even try it, Casey.”
“He doesn’t touch shit past rolling a spleef, and I KNOW that, I know him. You don’t. Got it?” Casey realized how firm and dark his voice was getting; Jeremy certainly heard it, showing in the narrowing of his eyes.
“Say whatever you want, but I know more about this stuff than you do.”
“Oh my god, FINE, you actually need proof? Fine, run out to a drugstore, snag a home test and when he gets here, I’ll let him know what he’s suddenly gotta prove to you over-“
“Wait, wait, wait… ‘when he gets here’?”
Casey stilled in body and speech. ‘Well, shit,’ he thought as he let out a tense, shuddering breath. “I wasn’t about to call my dad, and… the only other person I know with their own car is Del, and…”
“That’s great. Yeah, really fucking great,” Jeremy said. Casey blinked furiously at the sight of Jeremy’s expression; there was definitely anger in his frown, but a distinctive tremor that emoted deep hurt, as well. After a few sniffs and darting his eyes around the small space, Jeremy rubbed his nose in quick jerks then crossed his arms, saying, “I’m gonna need an entire hour to think on how to tell every fucking person I KNOW, ‘yeah, Casey couldn’t stand being around me and the people I care about, so his fucking ex drove the haul out here to SAVE him…’”
Casey felt a shake develop in his arms, tickling up to his cheeks. He knew how it looked, how hard it was going to be for Jeremy to hear. “It’s… n-not that I’m making a weird… choice, like, I don’t like you so I c-call an ex-boyfriend. He’s… my friend,” Casey shakily replied.
“Doesn’t matter. Tell me how to deal with this, tell everyone what’s happened. Go on, I need the help.” Jeremy nodded in quick jerks, waving his hands around with frustration.
“I… can’t. And I’m s-sorry.”
“Sorry to say, you should be. Thanks for making me feel so second-rate, compared to the ‘hero’ Zeke is, apparently.”
Casey’s eyes felt like lava was swelling behind them, burning his retinas with the urge to cry rivers all over again. This time, it wasn’t over him feeling like a toddler lost in a grocery store, desperate and alone; it was for the guy he’d started caring about, and how Casey couldn’t deny how his actions had now made him feel. He doubted he’d be perfectly okay in Jeremy’s calling one of his exes, crying and wanting to go home instead of finding comfort with Casey and HIS friends. As sad as this situation was and as guilty as Casey felt, at least he was recognizing it. He’d learned enough how he, too, could be accidentally rude and hurtful without meaning it in the slightest.
But instead of crying, Casey took a deep breath in an attempt to find calm then stepped closer to Jeremy. He didn’t look receptive to a hug, but he didn’t try to get away from Casey, choosing to stand still with his eyes set on something to the far right. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t call Zeke to hurt you. But… I know it’s hurting you anyway,” he started. His jaw tensed when Jeremy lowered his face and made a distinctive sniff, as if he was about to cry. This wasn’t going to have a quick-fix… if fixing anything was possible at all, at this point. However selfish Casey knew it was to reach to Jeremy’s hand to hold with a gentle grip, Casey did so, staring down at their fingers. “When we’re out, just us… at the club, whatever, we’re-pretty damned good together, y’know? I really, really like when we’ve hung-out. Tonight… I dunno…”
“Tonight what?” Jeremy said in a sad mumbling.
“I got to meet a huge bunch of super nice people, people you’ve known since grade school. Friends who care about you, know you. Thomas, he’s-he’s flat-out awesome, no way to deny that. He made me feel like I belonged. Problem is… I don’t.”
“Don’t… belong? What, you…” Jeremy finally looked up at Casey, wearing a look of complete bewilderment. “Who the fuck made you feel that? Tim? Whoever else? Not ME, cos’ besides a few ‘where’d he go, oops’ times losing track of you, I’d-“
“Definitely not you, Jer, stop. You did everything fucking right, A-plus, okay?” Casey tried assuring him. Jeremy looked like he wanted to say something, but could only stare back at Casey with his lips parted, head shaking in tiny sways. “Even if I’m not all-about the clothes you insisted I wear, I know you’re not giving them to me to make yourself ‘look better’ with all your friends, having to meet the ‘Kmart Kid’ from stupid Herrington…”
“Stop. Don’t say that, you’re worth more than that. I’ve let you KNOW that, haven’t I??”
A small, sad smile couldn’t be helped. “But… that IS who I am, and really? I like it that way. If I didn’t, I’d have been diving into your closets the second you offered, or letting you buy out ‘Shot-Spot’s entire inventory to fill my room with everything I’ve ever wanted. But all I want in being with someone-is someone. The person, doing stuff we both like, simple, no frills. Every time you’ve made offers or tried spending your cash on me, it makes me think… how if we’d ever break up down the line, I’d feel weird, using whatever I got from you. Not to say we’d ‘break-up’ as if it’s something set in the future…”
“That’s what’s happening right now. Isn’t it?” Jeremy said, his lower lip starting to shake. Casey blinked and looked back down at their joined hands.
“I… dunno. Is… is it?”
“You tell me.”
Casey closed his eyes and brought his hands up in a prayer position against his lips and chin. “I don’t want that-not right now, in… a friggin’ closet,” he said.
“What, should we make dinner reservations for it instead?” Jeremy asked. Why that made Casey suddenly puff out a few chuckles and stare up at the ceiling, he didn’t know. Jeremy was just as confused, asking, “What’s so funny?”
“It’s… not ‘funny’, just… I dunno.”
A silence fell between them now as Jeremy glanced behind him to the long bench, shiny, expensive shoes of Thomas’ family lining the wall underneath it in a perfectly-placed row. He sank down to a sit and shoved his hands in his pockets, knee jerking up and down as he said, “I’ve known the whole time that we’re different. But when it was me, meeting your friends, I’d been just as nervous. I know I’m just this ‘rich kid’ dropping in on your crowd, I know how I’m looked at.” He took a deep breath and straightened, resting his head near the windowsill behind him. “It’s not that different from how YOU feel, coming here to be with MY gang. Yeah, what you do as everyday things, it’s simple for most-to me, it’s complicated. Like, I don’t know if I’ve ever gone to my fridge myself. I go down to the kitchens if I’m feeling snacky, but… Sven’s always there to get things out for me. And like your friends don’t know that that’s how I live, right?”
“You’ve mentioned stuff like that, all on your own though. Being honest… like, my dad, he wondered if you’ve been the right guy. He doesn’t hate you, or anything, but… there’ve been times you…”
The long pause was telling enough, but Jeremy still asked, “’Times I’ve’… what?”
“Just, like-at dinner, with my parents. There WERE a few awkward moments, where you’d either make comparisons about what you had at home versus our dinner table. Or talking about those… etiquette class things, whatever else,” Casey said.
“That’s all-just what I know, Casey. Can’t I talk about things I do, what I like?”
“Yeah. But it only shows how… different we are. We’re… different.”
Jeremy stared at Casey a moment before making another slow nod. “’Too’ different, you mean. Right?”
“I… dunno…”
A knock came at the door then. The boys snapped their heads over to look, seeing the door open and Thomas peeking inside. “Hey… you guys okay in here?” he asked.
Jeremy shrugged and stayed silent, while Casey’s reply was made in a sigh and casting his eyes down to the floor. Thomas bit his lip and made a tentative step inside. “Just wanted to let you know… Jeremy know, uh, Claire, Ned and Vincent just got here. They asked where you were, I told ‘em… you were busy, but I’d… let you know they were here,” Thomas haltingly explained.
Jeremy wore a look of woe, when seeing more of his old friends after so long should have made him hop up and squeal in excitement. Instead, Casey had set his mood in the exact opposite. “I’ll be out in a minute,” Jeremy finally replied.
“’K. They’re downstairs, getting a few puffs down.” With that, Thomas flashed them both a tiny smile then left, shutting the door behind him.
Again, silence reigned until Jeremy’s ‘minute’ passed and he stood with a groan. “Is he getting here soon?” he asked.
“Zeke? P… Probably,” Casey said with a shrug.
Jeremy looked toward the door, sighed then looked back at Casey. “I’ll wait with you, if you want. Everyone’s here ‘til whatever-the-fuck-o’clock, so…”
“No. Go find those friends, make the best of it. Like I said already-I wanted that for you, so I made my own way home. And… you’ve said it, I’ve said it, but again, Tim’s been the only jerk here. He didn’t ruin anything when it comes to how nice everyone else has been. Seriously,” Casey said. “I’m gonna… grab my coat and wait outside.”
“Um, it’s freezing out there… just wait in the foyer, at least?” Jeremy spat out.
“And take the chance of Zeke deafening everyone with the doorbell? Because I’d make the bets YOU did downstairs that he’s never heard anything as grand as that things sounds, and he’ll punch it the hell over and over again to make sure it’s a doorbell…”
It was good, hearing Jeremy’s amused snort to Casey’s gentle teasing. “Okay, yeah, just-bundle-up? I’m sure Thomas doesn’t want to have to call 9-1-1 to report a dumb kid freezing to death on his stoop,” he teased back. Casey chuckled.
“Yeah, yeah…” he said. He sighed away his amusement, looked down at his feet and said, “I’ll call, in the morning?”
“Um… afternoon. Probably better.”
Nodding, any amusement that had been stoked began dissipating; Casey was now left wondering if ‘this was it’, the last time he’d be standing next to Jeremy as boyfriends. Though no official break-up had been struck between them, Casey felt their splitting-up clearly enough without having to say the actual words. He blinked away tears, wanting to part on whatever pleasant note they could and not wanting to have his face freeze-up once he was outside. “I’ll call,” he muttered.
“’K,” Jeremy said as they finally made their way to the door and exited. Casey shuddered out a breath as he gathered his coat, while Jeremy spent a moment digging through the piles of winter wear to find Casey’s hat, gloves and scarf. Casey turned to watch his rifling around; he couldn’t help a smile.
‘He’s sweet,’ he thought. It wasn’t the first time ‘sweet’ had been used to describe the young man, but thinking it now was horribly bittersweet. He could almost taste the sour notes Jeremy’s bringing his things over to him were, especially when he took it upon himself to shove Casey’s wool hat over his head, a stiff smile on his face. It was such a boyfriend-thing to do. A sob was building up in Casey’s chest as he wrapped his scarf around his neck then got his gloves on.
“I guess… say ‘hi’ to the guy for me?” Jeremy asked. Casey figured his wanting that was due in part to how he didn’t want to be a part of the deep, dark reasons in Casey’s needing to be home; but whether he and Zeke would ever consider each other ‘friends’, Jeremy cared enough for the things, people and places in Casey’s world as much as Casey did for his.
“I will. And… well, Mom’s always drilled it into me how important writing ‘thank you’ notes are. Just the food Thomas put out gets that kinda courtesy,” Casey said with the best smile he could muster. It was enough for Jeremy to return one before he made an awkward leaning-in, relaxing a little as he gave Casey a small but tight hug.
“I’ll maybe… set an alarm on my phone, so I’m at least up by one,” he said over Casey’s shoulder.
“’K,” Casey said. They broke away now, and with one last squeeze to Jeremy’s hand, Casey turned away toward the door, walked over and opened it. He almost threw one last glance back at the young man watching him go, but he didn’t want any more lingering-around. He simply stepped out, shut the door behind him and stepped down to the last brick step to lower down, sit and wait.
Thomas’ house being high-up above all else made the light pollution coming from Kent and other surrounding cities and towns a mere haze along the horizon. Everything past that, all the way over Casey’s head was made clear and bright, starlight brighter than Casey was used to seeing. He focused on the constellation Orion, along with the scorching-bright Sirius close-by. Casey knew enough about the cosmos to know Sirius as a double-star, so close together it created one strong, pulsing beam of light. ‘I need that,’ he thought suddenly of whoever would be out there for him, that one person who could join his side and make them Sirius, one, stronger when put together close and intimate, for everyone to see and smile toward.
Just as Casey’s teeth had started chattering from their huddling behind his scarf to find warmth, he heard the sound of a distant, rumbling engine. He swallowed and closed his eyes, trying to get up the strength to keep himself calm. ‘Almost home,’ he thought, over and over again, finally standing on stiff legs when he saw the GTO’s headlights turning into the start of Thomas’ long, long driveway. Casey didn’t make his way over to the drive, not yet; he cast a look behind him instead in hearing someone’s laughter ringing out loud enough to reach his ears. ‘I could… maybe…’ he thought, wondering if he’d just gone about everything so terribly, utterly wrong…
The sound of a car’s door opening and shutting hard made him whirl around on his heels. Instead of Zeke’s usual honk-and-wait-and-honk-again method, the young man was striding around the hood and heading for the walkway leading to the house. In seeing Casey already waiting outside, he stopped quick and stared at him a moment.
“H-Hey,” Casey said. As he headed over, he tried to smile; he knew what kind of panic he could’ve made for Zeke, calling and begging to come home as he had. It was just about to finally come onto his face when Zeke cleared his throat, looking from Casey to the front door, then back.
“You didn’t have to wait outside, ‘was gonna come get you,” he said.
Casey stilled a few feet away from Zeke, staring at him. How many times had his father jumped at Zeke’s honking, demanding to know if Zeke was crippled and couldn’t ‘come to the goddamned door like any reasonable person picking someone up?’? But this wasn’t the time for Zeke’s ‘honk-and-wait’ routine, and Casey knew why. It was enough for the dam to finally and fully burst, the cracks he’d felt forming hours before finally becoming wide, irreparable holes.
Zeke’s arms jolted up and out in Casey’s stepping to him, arms going around his waist and burying his face into the soft cotton of Zeke’s t-shirt, all to let out a series of loud, halting sobs and wails against the boy’s chest. In the next moment, Zeke was holding Casey back, tight and strong. It felt like forever, Casey’s emotional-explosion getting absorbed by the man he held, before it began dying down to a string of soft, hiccupping sobs. Zeke placed gentle hands on Casey’s shoulders and backed away a few inches, all to lean down and look directly into Casey’s eyes.
“Point ‘em out.”
Casey was confused enough. “H-Huh?”
Zeke set his jaw, eyes darting quick toward the house before his dark, firm stare returned to Casey. “Point. Them out.”
“I… n-no, it’s not…”
“I’ll go in the corn-fed hick they see me as, come out the juggernaut they’ll never fuck with again-“
“Zeke.” Casey said in a strong, pointed voice while staring at the silver chain necklace Zeke wore. “It’s nobody, no one… n-needs anything. Just… home. P-Please.”
Zeke stayed staring quietly at Casey a few moments, until he finally sniffed, stepped to the side and put his hand on Casey’s back to lead him to the car. He even opened the door, Casey getting in and finding himself instantly relaxed; everything from the night, all of its foreign sounds, smells and sights, were made distant memories being in Zeke’s so-familiar space. Clove smoke, almost-invisible notes of his favorite simple Ivory soap, the GTO’s exhaust, classic-rock radio murmuring from the speakers… it was taking Zeke some time getting in the car. Casey dipped his head down to look at the young man through the driver’s side. He was standing still, facing the house. Casey swallowed and called, “Please… let’s go,” through the cracked-open window. That urged Zeke into grunting, opening the door and getting in.
“You’re promising me… right? Nobody made that sobbing mess I saw in you. Right?”
Casey sighed. He’d tell Zeke about his coming-across Tim, who’d be more aptly-named ‘Dickface’ instead. He was inconsequential enough in the grand scheme of things to make Casey’s reply of, “Yes, Zeke. I promise,” honest. Without another angry declaration made, Zeke put the car in drive and for a few feet, kept it slow. The moment they were past the showroom’s worth of fancy cars, he punched the gas to send the sound of squealing, angry tires out into their surroundings like a bomb. It was obvious to Casey that Zeke wanted everyone in the house to jump, gasp and ask, ”What the hell was THAT??” They were nice enough to not deserve Zeke’s gritty attitude toward the lot, but it made Casey smile anyway.
~*~
Zeke had seemed to sense Casey’s need for some quiet time, not bothering to badger him with questions right-off. The first fifteen minutes of the drive home was spent listening to the engine’s strong thrumming and the radio, kept at a lower volume than usual. It let Casey concentrate on something other than the racing thoughts still plaguing his mind, picking distinctive, barely-there notes and lyrics from each tune until he managed to figure out which one it was.
It was after passing the noisy campus area of Kent State that Zeke said, “’Been thinking about applying here, actually.” It took Casey a few, molasses-slow moments to realize what he’d meant, but when he did, he gazed at Zeke with curiosity.
“Kent? College?”
“University.”
“No, I mean… you’re thinking about college? ‘Thought you… were gonna go to bartending school?”
Zeke shrugged and began talking-not about Casey, no digging questions about whatever mess he’d landed in tonight involved. From his thoughts on building up a ‘resume’ in going to Herrington Community before taking on a four-year program to the discoveries of himself he’d made purely by accident, Casey felt small but significant sparks firing off in his mind. The fact that, out of everything, Zeke had taken a liking to some potted plants a neighbor had brought by as a ‘thank you’ gift for shoveling her walk some weeks before had almost made Casey giggle outright.
“She said the miniature rose plant was almost on its way out and needed a lotta care, but if I got it going it’d be great to plant in my backyard when summer comes,” he’d said, shrugging as if this wasn’t remarkable or noteworthy. To Casey, it was.
“So, botany, huh?” he’d asked.
“May as well, right?”
Perhaps Zeke hadn’t realized that in a strange but wonderful way, he’d given a bright and pretty gift to Casey. It wasn’t just focusing on something other than Casey’s troubles, but how it was simply wonderful, imagining himself going over to help dig out plots in Zeke’s yard for him to create award-winning gardens. Growing up, Casey had longed to have his own fruit source in the backyard, especially blueberries. When he and his mother had gone to the new Wal-Mart that had sprung up to destroy all of the town’s small businesses, he’d paused to stare at the rows of blueberry bushes the store had displayed outside their garden center. But when he’d asked after them, his mother had hummed but said, “We’d need a lot of sun in the yard for them, late in the summer. Too much shade in ours. Anyway, your father was talking about setting up a small brick patio for the grill he’s planning to get…”
That patio had never been built, and no fruit bushes were brought home. In just his mentioning how he’d wanted some, Zeke had shrugged, smiled and said, “Well, MY yard gets tons of sun, so… could be doable.” That only led to Casey fantasizing about plot-digging and taking blueberry-breaks along the way.
It was only when they’d crossed the Herrington town line when Casey let out a heavy breath and sank into his seat further. He looked to Zeke, who was stamping out his cigarette in the ashtray. “Thanks. I mean that. Thanks, a lot,” he said.
“I was up, doesn’t matter,” Zeke replied.
“No, sorry, but-I ain’t letting this go all ‘ho-hum’. You… came through in a big way for me, tonight.”
Zeke shrugged again and gnawed at his lower lip. “You wanna spend the night at my place, instead of needing to deal with nerved-up parental units?” he asked.
“’Was hoping you’d offer. Yeah, absolutely,” Casey said.
“I’d figured,” Zeke said as he blinked left to get on his street.
Once at the house, Casey took a moment to stare at Zeke’s porch, windows… so wonderfully comfortable and familiar, almost as much as his own home. The car was shut off and Zeke, now showing some fatigue in a heavy yawn, said, “Home again, home again,” then stepped out, Casey getting out to join him on the way to the porch. The door was keyed open and they got inside, huffing and sighing as they removed winter clothes and dumped them on the side table provided.
“I’d ask if you wanted coffee, but…”
“Yeah, stimulants are off the table ‘til I feel ready for ‘em.”
“Got some cider? It was on sale, picked it up today.”
Casey nodded, said, “Yeah, sounds great, thanks,” then toed his shoes off. As Zeke went to get them some refreshment, Casey shuffled into the living room and went to the couch to plop himself down. The thick quilt on the back of it was brought down and laid out over his chilled body and he snuggled his limbs in close and tight to gather warmth.
Zeke soon returned, holding two glasses full of aromatic cider. He handed Casey one and went to the other end of the couch, took a sip then lit up. “Couch bed’s fucked-the support rail at the foot of it’s broken off, so half the damned thing hangs down to the floor. If you’re aching for sleep, I’ll go change the sheets of my bed for you,” he said.
“Uh… not needing it just yet, but I’ll be fine with just the couch. M’not taking your friggin’ bed,” Casey said, pausing to sip before adding, “You’ve kinda done enough for me tonight.”
“Still…”
“You basically didn’t bat an eye, getting involved in any which-way when it comes to Jeremy… and you’re my ex. Believe me, I’ll be ringing-up the Pope tomorrow to see if you qualify for saint-status. ‘K?”
Zeke turned a small frown to Casey. “I give a shit about you, a’right? Whether you’ve got a problem with a new guy or not, I’m glad you knew you could call me for help,” he told him. “Yeah, I worried about what went down, STILL wondering. But I’m not gonna pressure you to tell me anything. That’s between you and him, or whoever else.”
“Then why were you ready to break down Thomas’ door and start busting heads?” Casey asked, daring a smirk.
“Cos’ you snot-soaked my entire front? If you being that torn-up had someone’s name attached to it, I was gonna make sure it never happened again.”
Casey sobered a little. Zeke was all-too-willing to be the protective boyfriend he’d once been to Casey, incorporating it into their friendship seamlessly. It didn’t mean that Casey wasn’t seeing the stark intensity of just how much Zeke cared about him. He would’ve started crying, if he wasn’t so fatigued by the sobbing-breakdowns he’d already fought through. “I don’t know… if me and Jeremy are together anymore. I guess just being able to say that means we’re not,” he murmured before taking another gulp of the cool, crisp apple drink.
“Can I ask what happened? Like I said, ain’t gonna press shit,” Zeke said.
“No, it’s okay. But… it’s no real mystery, really. Everyone’s said it already; we’re different, in too many ways.”
“Well… yeah. But it’s nothing that can’t be smoothed over?”
“If… if we did nothing but the photography club, go out together just one-on-one, didn’t make big social plans? We’d be close to perfect. We get along, hard-enjoy a ton of the same stuff together.” Casey took a deep breath and put his glass aside, its chill reaching too deep into his fingers. He tucked his hands back under the blanket and between his knees before going on, “But… as hard as I tried to bum-around that party, and Jeremy was a great boyfriend, sticking by my side through the night instead of ditching me around every corner… and the guy holding the party was a doll. But… the only reason I belonged was my belonging to one of them. I couldn’t join in on any poker games to play anyone, insist on changing music or-“
“Wait, wait… back up. They didn’t let you play friggin’ card games? I still remember you owning my ass a few times when we’d get the cards out,” Zeke said.
“Yeah, I know. My biggest haul was sixty-three cents.”
“For penny poker, that’s an invertible jackpot.”
“Well… none of the chips people bought went lower than twenty bucks. And Jeremy sat at the ‘medium minimum betting’ table, at fifty bucks to get dealt in. I saw a lot of purple chips get tossed in-five-hundred, boom, right there.”
Zeke raised his eyebrows. “Well, shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Still, no ‘no-stakes’, just-for-fun tables were kicking around?” Zeke asked. At Casey’s shrug, he scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Don’t even tell me Jeremy kept you around for some ridiculous ‘blow on my cards’ shit…”
Casey had to laugh. “Were you there, or something?”
“Oh, he can get fucked…”
“Hey…” Casey drawled but still grinned. “Anyway, I was BAD luck at the start. I didn’t even think of how it’d look to everyone when I almost did a cheerleading routine, celebrating Jer’s good hand. Fold, fold, fold, and I’m the red-faced moron being thanked for my exuberance.”
Zeke finally betrayed himself with a smile. “Good. Like you need to be involved in that kinda scene, anyway… stick with pennies.”
“Uh, yeah, I have to, even if I wanted to do more. Duh.” Casey scratched the top of his head and moved on, saying, “I hadn’t lied when I promised that nobody made me that big, fat crying mess. But there was one rotten apple in the bunch.”
“Oh yeah?”
Casey nodded. “An ex of Jeremy’s, actually. He was the only real snobby fucker there-he came into a room I was sitting in with this other guy. And-well, he was a grumpy little jerk, too…”
“So two asshats, then. When I’d asked ‘point ‘em out’, I meant it,” Zeke said.
“They sucked, hard-but they weren’t the real reason I started losing my cool,” Casey said in a rush. “Tim there, ex-guy… just needlessly petty and mean. It stung me as it was happening, but Thomas, the guy throwing this thing? He was passing by and all it took was seeing Tim sitting next to me for him to stride in and ‘save’ me. Jeremy came back from the basement gaming he’d been finishing up, some minor drama went down…”
“What’d this guy say?” Zeke suddenly asked. “Like, precisely.”
“Why? You gonna drive back? Cos’ I won’t go with to point him out, you’d have to go in and ask around,” Casey said with a wry smirk. When Zeke raised his eyebrows and continued staring at him, Casey sighed and said, “Just a load of thinly-veiled insults. Dunno if you noticed, but-I let Jeremy have his way with my wardrobe.” Casey tugged the blanket down to show off the sweater, raising his arms and sighing. “Gucci shit. I figured, whatever, I’d dress-up the way he was begging me to.”
“Brown’s not your color. Not that shade, anyway,” Zeke said.
“Yeah, that’s important. Anyway… Tim recognized it, AND the pants as Jeremy’s, so he threw out a few opinions about it, whatever else. When Jeremy joined the ‘rescue Casey’ mission and told Thomas to bring me back to the main room and bar, I heard the jaggoff say something about how Jeremy was next gonna trade his Audi in for an old Chevy truck, or something. Obviously saying his dating me was-that, a downgrade. Whatever.” Casey paused to reach back to the cup, take a sip then put it back. “But I DID mean it, he wasn’t the end-all reason I wanted out.”
Though Zeke still looked annoyed about Casey’s retelling of events with the one ‘bad seed’, he shifted in his seat to prop his head up on his hand. “Just… everything, I’m guessing?” he said.
“Yeah. Everything.” Casey made a sad moan and shook his head. “And y’know… when you and me talked, or-I’d finally let you talk about all the things that’d bugged you, I wanted to go to this thing to prove I could go halfway. Be fair. He’d come out with me and MY friends, so I’d look like an ass, refusing to hang out with his. So I dressed the way he wanted, didn’t say ‘boo’ about his music likes and dislikes on the drive there and tried my best to stay open and friendly. And I’ve said it a billion times, but-they were all really, really nice. Tim was the exception; Thomas hates the guy and let me know it, even said how good I was for Jeremy to have as a boyfriend. So it wasn’t the people… it was how they… lived.”
Zeke hummed, slugged back the last of his drink and set it down on the table with Casey’s. “You’re a simple guy, Case. Nothing wrong with that,” he said.
“Yeah, and to go against the stereotypes about ‘spoiled rich boys’, the way THEY are isn’t wrong, either. They’re just lucky, or managed good educations for big-time professions, whatever. But when I’m sitting at a table with Jeremy and his besties, I can offer nothing to the bulk of their conversations. I’d already started feeling really alone, in just being me, but it only got worse when Thomas helped me through the maze of his house to get to the pool, where Jeremy had gone off to while I’d been in the bath… god, and that…”
Casey knew he was jumping from subject to subject, but Zeke stayed straight-faced as Casey backed up to say, “Two guys came into the bathroom, luckily after I finished pissing… they brought out a mirror, rolled up fifty and a credit card to get some lines of coke going… they even invited me to join in. Didn’t, of course,” Casey added quickly in seeing Zeke’s face go instantly stern. “But… it was enough for me to think on how that’s-that’s just not some ‘whatever’, casual thing that goes on around me, or almost anyone we’re friends with. Y’know? So yeah, had to hunt Jeremy down feeling dizzy and shit… told him I wanted to go home, but…”
“Couldn’t he have just driven you home then gone back? Not saying he’s an ass, cos’ yeah, it’s a drive, but… the party’s not getting fucking shut-down at a specific minute and everyone goes home, right?” Zeke asked.
“No, but… keep in mind, the guest-list had people who he hadn’t seen in ages. People coming from airports and shit, just for this one party. And he WAS worried, felt torn when I asked… so when he suggested later that I could use one of the upstairs guestrooms to relax, sleep, whatever, I’d figured it was fair enough. Thomas was awesome, brought me blankets, left his cell number by the phone… Jer tucked me in and I tried chilling out,” Casey said. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “I only felt worse, couldn’t get comfortable-puked just from the anxiety alone.”
“Damn, Case…” Zeke said, his brow knitted in sympathy. He shook his head and said, “Again, not calling him an ass, but if you were that bad while depending on him so much? Sorry, but he should’ve done the right thing and brought you home. Euro-flights arriving or not.”
“But I did what I had to and got myself a ride-calling you, I mean. And… before you got there I went down to tell him, and…” Casey halted now, not knowing how much else he wanted to relay to Zeke. “…I hurt him, in a way. Especially when he found out WHO was picking me up.”
“Yeah? Cool, he can come by for some fisticuffs if he’s up for it.”
“Come on, Zeke… calling my ex to ‘save me’ from my boyfriend’s friend’s party? Having to tell everybody what went down? Like you’d be cool with that.”
“Like you said… I’m the ex, gathering you up from a night out with your boyfriend. Not exactly the norm, is it-from my position, anyway, right?” Zeke asked. Before Casey could worry that he’d upset two people and Zeke had just been hiding it better, the young man smirked. “I didn’t mind it. At all. If you guys stay together, good. Maybe you can work shit out. I’d already played my ‘oops, my bad’ card back with your dad, remember?”
“I doubt it, though. Me and him staying together,” Casey said, his voice lowering down to a murmur. “Dunno how to feel about it. I’m sad, of course… but if I’m gonna be with someone, I don’t want any part of that… being with them having to NOT be with them and… I’m rambling.”
“Yeah, a bit. But I get it.” Zeke stood, took their glasses and before setting off for the kitchen asked, “So, you seriously don’t want the bed?”
“I’m fine, really. If you just toss a pillow and extra blanket my way, the couch’s comfy enough.”
“Mmkay.”
Casey slumped lower into the cushions as Zeke left to put their glasses in the sink. Casey turned to his right side and stared ahead at the TV. A little extra, buzzing noise was needed, so he grabbed the remote from the side table and flicked the set on. The screen came to life, showing off… “The fuck?” Casey thought at the strange… thing… mannequin?
”Burn those calories and turn fat into muscle with the new SLAM-MAN, the innovative new workout system that…”
“Oh, god, ZEKE!” Casey called out as a big, stupid grin came over his face. Zeke rushed in, looking alarmed.
“What, what’s-“ he went to ask but stopped when he saw what was on the screen. “Yes! That’s it, that stupid Slam-Guy-“
“Slam-MAN, shit! This is…”
Casey didn’t get to finish as both boys dissolved into laughing messes over the strange and sudden switch to a half-dozen people, all choreographed and synchronized into a dance involving their punching, kicking and slapping the weirdest exercise tool they’d ever seen. “Shit, it’s almost over!” Casey said when he saw the clock in the hall reading 2:26.
“No, I promise, they showed it like, ten times in a row the night I was watching. Anyway, there’s this other informercial involving a juicer that… saves lives or makes you see God, or-“ Zeke brightened, glanced to the kitchen then asked Casey, “Got some microwaved popcorn and I’m suddenly not tired?”
“Go for it,” Casey said with boyish excitement, though Zeke was already rushing back into the kitchen.
~*~
Pairing: Casey/OMC (?), C/Z (past)
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: Familiarity and simplicity doesn't fit in certain ways.
However uncomfortable it was to return to the party, that unease had a purpose attached to it, now. Casey reentered the main room, finding it as busy as he’d left it. He stayed at the doorway to scan the many faces, wanting Jeremy’s, now…
“Hey! You made it back, awesome.”
Casey turned and found Thomas standing behind him off to the left, coming from the hall leading to the ‘quiet spaces’. Casey steeled himself in turning and saying, “Um, yeah, but-where’s Jeremy?”
“Dunno, actually. Last I knew, he was down in the game-room,” Thomas replied.
Great. The very last thing he wanted to do was trek downstairs, gulp down cigar and pot smoke, deal with the sound of chips hitting felt… “Well, I… I gotta find him, cos’-I called for a ride home,” Casey said. Thomas’ smile faded away and a look of concern came on.
“You did? Oh… just, not feeling any better?”
“No. I really want to get home, but-don’t wanna cut into Jeremy’s fun, either.”
Thomas let out a defeated sigh. “Well, I know that I barely know you, but… seriously, if it’s anything other than you not feeling good, like-if it has anything to do with someone like Tim saying something or…”
“Not really, no, I’m just-“
“HEY there!”
Casey stopped dead in talking to Thomas as Jeremy came over, a bright smile on his face. “Hey…” Casey said.
“Feeling better after some chill-time, are we?” Jeremy asked, slinging his arm over Casey’s shoulders. How awkward was this going to get… settling on ‘epically fucking awkward’, Casey coughed into his fist and brought his gaze up to Jeremy’s.
“I’m-sorry, Jer, but-I called for a ride home. Cos’… yeah, I’m really not feeling any better,” he said in the softest, most apologetic tone he could muster. It didn’t work well enough for Jeremy to keep his smile on. It disappeared in a shot; the young man blinked slowly and frowned.
“Huh? But…”
“Um, I’ll… get your coat?” Thomas stammered, walking slowly backwards toward the foyer.
“Wait, no-wait.” Jeremy made a single, nervous chuckle and came close to pouting as he said, “I was just telling my friend Brandon you were here, and he’s wanting to meet you. A bunch of others, too, the ones who just flew in.”
“I’m-sorry, like I said…”
“What’s wrong, what’s going on?”
Casey felt defensive, hearing Jeremy’s tone go from confused to hurt and frustrated. He did his best to stay calm and understanding, however. “Jer… I just… I’m tired, and I don’t feel right. Y’know? Like, these are all your friends, and of course I feel selfish over asking if we could leave. So-I’m getting my own way home, so you don’t have to fuss over me. That’s all,” he explained, best he could.
“But…” Jeremy looked around Casey to where Thomas was waiting by the coats. “Come… come on, just for a sec…”
“Jer,” Casey said, but the young man beckoned him to follow him. He said something quick to Thomas as he stepped past him, coming to a stop in the doorway of the foyer’s large closet space. Thomas nodded, looked between them and made his way to the main room. He paused by Casey and shrugged.
“If, uh, you leave before I come back, it was nice to meet you,” he said.
“The same. Thanks, Thomas,” Casey replied.
The young man smiled, let out a huff of breath and sauntered off. Casey watched him go a moment before turning back and going over to where Jeremy stood. “What?” he asked.
“In here,” Jeremy said, stepping further into the small room.
Apprehensive but determined, Casey joined him. Now past the doorway, Jeremy kicked up the stopper holding it open and let it close. The moment it did, he said, “Tell me what’s going on, what’s wrong.”
“It’s not about something being ‘wrong’, Jeremy…”
“It’s Tim, isn’t it? Don’t deny it, when he’d-“
“No!” Casey came close to shouting. He cast a worried glance to the door but sighed and went on, “It’s not one jerk spoiling it all, I swear! But-seriously, it was a big thing, me getting up the nerve to come here with you to start with.”
“Why, what do you mean? I know you were nervous, being around loads of people, all of us as loaded as we are, I GET it, but…” Jeremy scoffed, raised his arms quick then dropped them in a slap along his sides. “Everyone really likes you, Case. Can’t you see that? Thomas alone thinks you’re, HIS words, ‘a delightful young thing’.”
“And I really, really like him, I’ve liked just about everybody right back.”
“Then what the hell IS it?”
This was turning into an argument, now. Casey tried taking a few breaths to ease the tension before saying, “I’m… out-of-place, here. WAY out-of-place. Out of my depth, really.”
“But how? What, money, big houses? Who cares?” Jeremy retorted.
“It’s more than having money or ‘things’, it’s… that… it’s how you live. What you do,” Casey tried to explain. “Nothing here that you, or anyone does, is what I do.”
“Is that criticism? Like, it’s somehow my fault that I was born into a rich family, or something?”
“Of COURSE not, Jer. No. But it’s different. Too different, and… I mean, coke?”
“Huh? What coke?”
“Have you ever done it? Cos’ I didn’t say anything before, but… two guys came into the bathroom I was finishing up in, all to snort some lines together. When I told Tom, there, he said it was something that basically just ‘happened’ at these get-togethers you guys have,” Casey said.
Another pause followed with Jeremy huffing breaths in and out before replying, “If I told you that yes, I HAVE done a couple bumps in my lifetime, should I expect you to start judging me up and down? Cos’ yes, I have, exactly twice. Once here at another party Thomas threw, the other at another party, at Danielle’s,” he said. He stiffened, arms coming up to cross over his front. “So go ahead, judge away.”
“Okay, stop-I’m not judging you. Okay? Not. Judging you. I know enough about stuff like that. But with what I know, it only…” Casey folded his hands together over the top of his head and he groaned. “…I put on the clothes you brought me, even though they’re not ‘me’; I came to a party full of people I didn’t know and no matter how nice I am or they are, I can’t really relate to them in any way. I’m not about to villainize someone for doing whatever drug, but I don’t like being around them-“
“Says the one who toked-up with his ex-boyfriend,” Jeremy said in an angry spit. Casey furrowed his brow hard, but before he could splutter an angry retort, Jeremy put on a sarcastic expression then leaned in to add, “And like hell that guy’s piss-test wouldn’t show an entire pharmacy’s worth of substances…”
Casey couldn’t help his jaw from dropping. “Um… what? Oh, no, don’t even…”
“Don’t even try it, Casey.”
“He doesn’t touch shit past rolling a spleef, and I KNOW that, I know him. You don’t. Got it?” Casey realized how firm and dark his voice was getting; Jeremy certainly heard it, showing in the narrowing of his eyes.
“Say whatever you want, but I know more about this stuff than you do.”
“Oh my god, FINE, you actually need proof? Fine, run out to a drugstore, snag a home test and when he gets here, I’ll let him know what he’s suddenly gotta prove to you over-“
“Wait, wait, wait… ‘when he gets here’?”
Casey stilled in body and speech. ‘Well, shit,’ he thought as he let out a tense, shuddering breath. “I wasn’t about to call my dad, and… the only other person I know with their own car is Del, and…”
“That’s great. Yeah, really fucking great,” Jeremy said. Casey blinked furiously at the sight of Jeremy’s expression; there was definitely anger in his frown, but a distinctive tremor that emoted deep hurt, as well. After a few sniffs and darting his eyes around the small space, Jeremy rubbed his nose in quick jerks then crossed his arms, saying, “I’m gonna need an entire hour to think on how to tell every fucking person I KNOW, ‘yeah, Casey couldn’t stand being around me and the people I care about, so his fucking ex drove the haul out here to SAVE him…’”
Casey felt a shake develop in his arms, tickling up to his cheeks. He knew how it looked, how hard it was going to be for Jeremy to hear. “It’s… n-not that I’m making a weird… choice, like, I don’t like you so I c-call an ex-boyfriend. He’s… my friend,” Casey shakily replied.
“Doesn’t matter. Tell me how to deal with this, tell everyone what’s happened. Go on, I need the help.” Jeremy nodded in quick jerks, waving his hands around with frustration.
“I… can’t. And I’m s-sorry.”
“Sorry to say, you should be. Thanks for making me feel so second-rate, compared to the ‘hero’ Zeke is, apparently.”
Casey’s eyes felt like lava was swelling behind them, burning his retinas with the urge to cry rivers all over again. This time, it wasn’t over him feeling like a toddler lost in a grocery store, desperate and alone; it was for the guy he’d started caring about, and how Casey couldn’t deny how his actions had now made him feel. He doubted he’d be perfectly okay in Jeremy’s calling one of his exes, crying and wanting to go home instead of finding comfort with Casey and HIS friends. As sad as this situation was and as guilty as Casey felt, at least he was recognizing it. He’d learned enough how he, too, could be accidentally rude and hurtful without meaning it in the slightest.
But instead of crying, Casey took a deep breath in an attempt to find calm then stepped closer to Jeremy. He didn’t look receptive to a hug, but he didn’t try to get away from Casey, choosing to stand still with his eyes set on something to the far right. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t call Zeke to hurt you. But… I know it’s hurting you anyway,” he started. His jaw tensed when Jeremy lowered his face and made a distinctive sniff, as if he was about to cry. This wasn’t going to have a quick-fix… if fixing anything was possible at all, at this point. However selfish Casey knew it was to reach to Jeremy’s hand to hold with a gentle grip, Casey did so, staring down at their fingers. “When we’re out, just us… at the club, whatever, we’re-pretty damned good together, y’know? I really, really like when we’ve hung-out. Tonight… I dunno…”
“Tonight what?” Jeremy said in a sad mumbling.
“I got to meet a huge bunch of super nice people, people you’ve known since grade school. Friends who care about you, know you. Thomas, he’s-he’s flat-out awesome, no way to deny that. He made me feel like I belonged. Problem is… I don’t.”
“Don’t… belong? What, you…” Jeremy finally looked up at Casey, wearing a look of complete bewilderment. “Who the fuck made you feel that? Tim? Whoever else? Not ME, cos’ besides a few ‘where’d he go, oops’ times losing track of you, I’d-“
“Definitely not you, Jer, stop. You did everything fucking right, A-plus, okay?” Casey tried assuring him. Jeremy looked like he wanted to say something, but could only stare back at Casey with his lips parted, head shaking in tiny sways. “Even if I’m not all-about the clothes you insisted I wear, I know you’re not giving them to me to make yourself ‘look better’ with all your friends, having to meet the ‘Kmart Kid’ from stupid Herrington…”
“Stop. Don’t say that, you’re worth more than that. I’ve let you KNOW that, haven’t I??”
A small, sad smile couldn’t be helped. “But… that IS who I am, and really? I like it that way. If I didn’t, I’d have been diving into your closets the second you offered, or letting you buy out ‘Shot-Spot’s entire inventory to fill my room with everything I’ve ever wanted. But all I want in being with someone-is someone. The person, doing stuff we both like, simple, no frills. Every time you’ve made offers or tried spending your cash on me, it makes me think… how if we’d ever break up down the line, I’d feel weird, using whatever I got from you. Not to say we’d ‘break-up’ as if it’s something set in the future…”
“That’s what’s happening right now. Isn’t it?” Jeremy said, his lower lip starting to shake. Casey blinked and looked back down at their joined hands.
“I… dunno. Is… is it?”
“You tell me.”
Casey closed his eyes and brought his hands up in a prayer position against his lips and chin. “I don’t want that-not right now, in… a friggin’ closet,” he said.
“What, should we make dinner reservations for it instead?” Jeremy asked. Why that made Casey suddenly puff out a few chuckles and stare up at the ceiling, he didn’t know. Jeremy was just as confused, asking, “What’s so funny?”
“It’s… not ‘funny’, just… I dunno.”
A silence fell between them now as Jeremy glanced behind him to the long bench, shiny, expensive shoes of Thomas’ family lining the wall underneath it in a perfectly-placed row. He sank down to a sit and shoved his hands in his pockets, knee jerking up and down as he said, “I’ve known the whole time that we’re different. But when it was me, meeting your friends, I’d been just as nervous. I know I’m just this ‘rich kid’ dropping in on your crowd, I know how I’m looked at.” He took a deep breath and straightened, resting his head near the windowsill behind him. “It’s not that different from how YOU feel, coming here to be with MY gang. Yeah, what you do as everyday things, it’s simple for most-to me, it’s complicated. Like, I don’t know if I’ve ever gone to my fridge myself. I go down to the kitchens if I’m feeling snacky, but… Sven’s always there to get things out for me. And like your friends don’t know that that’s how I live, right?”
“You’ve mentioned stuff like that, all on your own though. Being honest… like, my dad, he wondered if you’ve been the right guy. He doesn’t hate you, or anything, but… there’ve been times you…”
The long pause was telling enough, but Jeremy still asked, “’Times I’ve’… what?”
“Just, like-at dinner, with my parents. There WERE a few awkward moments, where you’d either make comparisons about what you had at home versus our dinner table. Or talking about those… etiquette class things, whatever else,” Casey said.
“That’s all-just what I know, Casey. Can’t I talk about things I do, what I like?”
“Yeah. But it only shows how… different we are. We’re… different.”
Jeremy stared at Casey a moment before making another slow nod. “’Too’ different, you mean. Right?”
“I… dunno…”
A knock came at the door then. The boys snapped their heads over to look, seeing the door open and Thomas peeking inside. “Hey… you guys okay in here?” he asked.
Jeremy shrugged and stayed silent, while Casey’s reply was made in a sigh and casting his eyes down to the floor. Thomas bit his lip and made a tentative step inside. “Just wanted to let you know… Jeremy know, uh, Claire, Ned and Vincent just got here. They asked where you were, I told ‘em… you were busy, but I’d… let you know they were here,” Thomas haltingly explained.
Jeremy wore a look of woe, when seeing more of his old friends after so long should have made him hop up and squeal in excitement. Instead, Casey had set his mood in the exact opposite. “I’ll be out in a minute,” Jeremy finally replied.
“’K. They’re downstairs, getting a few puffs down.” With that, Thomas flashed them both a tiny smile then left, shutting the door behind him.
Again, silence reigned until Jeremy’s ‘minute’ passed and he stood with a groan. “Is he getting here soon?” he asked.
“Zeke? P… Probably,” Casey said with a shrug.
Jeremy looked toward the door, sighed then looked back at Casey. “I’ll wait with you, if you want. Everyone’s here ‘til whatever-the-fuck-o’clock, so…”
“No. Go find those friends, make the best of it. Like I said already-I wanted that for you, so I made my own way home. And… you’ve said it, I’ve said it, but again, Tim’s been the only jerk here. He didn’t ruin anything when it comes to how nice everyone else has been. Seriously,” Casey said. “I’m gonna… grab my coat and wait outside.”
“Um, it’s freezing out there… just wait in the foyer, at least?” Jeremy spat out.
“And take the chance of Zeke deafening everyone with the doorbell? Because I’d make the bets YOU did downstairs that he’s never heard anything as grand as that things sounds, and he’ll punch it the hell over and over again to make sure it’s a doorbell…”
It was good, hearing Jeremy’s amused snort to Casey’s gentle teasing. “Okay, yeah, just-bundle-up? I’m sure Thomas doesn’t want to have to call 9-1-1 to report a dumb kid freezing to death on his stoop,” he teased back. Casey chuckled.
“Yeah, yeah…” he said. He sighed away his amusement, looked down at his feet and said, “I’ll call, in the morning?”
“Um… afternoon. Probably better.”
Nodding, any amusement that had been stoked began dissipating; Casey was now left wondering if ‘this was it’, the last time he’d be standing next to Jeremy as boyfriends. Though no official break-up had been struck between them, Casey felt their splitting-up clearly enough without having to say the actual words. He blinked away tears, wanting to part on whatever pleasant note they could and not wanting to have his face freeze-up once he was outside. “I’ll call,” he muttered.
“’K,” Jeremy said as they finally made their way to the door and exited. Casey shuddered out a breath as he gathered his coat, while Jeremy spent a moment digging through the piles of winter wear to find Casey’s hat, gloves and scarf. Casey turned to watch his rifling around; he couldn’t help a smile.
‘He’s sweet,’ he thought. It wasn’t the first time ‘sweet’ had been used to describe the young man, but thinking it now was horribly bittersweet. He could almost taste the sour notes Jeremy’s bringing his things over to him were, especially when he took it upon himself to shove Casey’s wool hat over his head, a stiff smile on his face. It was such a boyfriend-thing to do. A sob was building up in Casey’s chest as he wrapped his scarf around his neck then got his gloves on.
“I guess… say ‘hi’ to the guy for me?” Jeremy asked. Casey figured his wanting that was due in part to how he didn’t want to be a part of the deep, dark reasons in Casey’s needing to be home; but whether he and Zeke would ever consider each other ‘friends’, Jeremy cared enough for the things, people and places in Casey’s world as much as Casey did for his.
“I will. And… well, Mom’s always drilled it into me how important writing ‘thank you’ notes are. Just the food Thomas put out gets that kinda courtesy,” Casey said with the best smile he could muster. It was enough for Jeremy to return one before he made an awkward leaning-in, relaxing a little as he gave Casey a small but tight hug.
“I’ll maybe… set an alarm on my phone, so I’m at least up by one,” he said over Casey’s shoulder.
“’K,” Casey said. They broke away now, and with one last squeeze to Jeremy’s hand, Casey turned away toward the door, walked over and opened it. He almost threw one last glance back at the young man watching him go, but he didn’t want any more lingering-around. He simply stepped out, shut the door behind him and stepped down to the last brick step to lower down, sit and wait.
Thomas’ house being high-up above all else made the light pollution coming from Kent and other surrounding cities and towns a mere haze along the horizon. Everything past that, all the way over Casey’s head was made clear and bright, starlight brighter than Casey was used to seeing. He focused on the constellation Orion, along with the scorching-bright Sirius close-by. Casey knew enough about the cosmos to know Sirius as a double-star, so close together it created one strong, pulsing beam of light. ‘I need that,’ he thought suddenly of whoever would be out there for him, that one person who could join his side and make them Sirius, one, stronger when put together close and intimate, for everyone to see and smile toward.
Just as Casey’s teeth had started chattering from their huddling behind his scarf to find warmth, he heard the sound of a distant, rumbling engine. He swallowed and closed his eyes, trying to get up the strength to keep himself calm. ‘Almost home,’ he thought, over and over again, finally standing on stiff legs when he saw the GTO’s headlights turning into the start of Thomas’ long, long driveway. Casey didn’t make his way over to the drive, not yet; he cast a look behind him instead in hearing someone’s laughter ringing out loud enough to reach his ears. ‘I could… maybe…’ he thought, wondering if he’d just gone about everything so terribly, utterly wrong…
The sound of a car’s door opening and shutting hard made him whirl around on his heels. Instead of Zeke’s usual honk-and-wait-and-honk-again method, the young man was striding around the hood and heading for the walkway leading to the house. In seeing Casey already waiting outside, he stopped quick and stared at him a moment.
“H-Hey,” Casey said. As he headed over, he tried to smile; he knew what kind of panic he could’ve made for Zeke, calling and begging to come home as he had. It was just about to finally come onto his face when Zeke cleared his throat, looking from Casey to the front door, then back.
“You didn’t have to wait outside, ‘was gonna come get you,” he said.
Casey stilled a few feet away from Zeke, staring at him. How many times had his father jumped at Zeke’s honking, demanding to know if Zeke was crippled and couldn’t ‘come to the goddamned door like any reasonable person picking someone up?’? But this wasn’t the time for Zeke’s ‘honk-and-wait’ routine, and Casey knew why. It was enough for the dam to finally and fully burst, the cracks he’d felt forming hours before finally becoming wide, irreparable holes.
Zeke’s arms jolted up and out in Casey’s stepping to him, arms going around his waist and burying his face into the soft cotton of Zeke’s t-shirt, all to let out a series of loud, halting sobs and wails against the boy’s chest. In the next moment, Zeke was holding Casey back, tight and strong. It felt like forever, Casey’s emotional-explosion getting absorbed by the man he held, before it began dying down to a string of soft, hiccupping sobs. Zeke placed gentle hands on Casey’s shoulders and backed away a few inches, all to lean down and look directly into Casey’s eyes.
“Point ‘em out.”
Casey was confused enough. “H-Huh?”
Zeke set his jaw, eyes darting quick toward the house before his dark, firm stare returned to Casey. “Point. Them out.”
“I… n-no, it’s not…”
“I’ll go in the corn-fed hick they see me as, come out the juggernaut they’ll never fuck with again-“
“Zeke.” Casey said in a strong, pointed voice while staring at the silver chain necklace Zeke wore. “It’s nobody, no one… n-needs anything. Just… home. P-Please.”
Zeke stayed staring quietly at Casey a few moments, until he finally sniffed, stepped to the side and put his hand on Casey’s back to lead him to the car. He even opened the door, Casey getting in and finding himself instantly relaxed; everything from the night, all of its foreign sounds, smells and sights, were made distant memories being in Zeke’s so-familiar space. Clove smoke, almost-invisible notes of his favorite simple Ivory soap, the GTO’s exhaust, classic-rock radio murmuring from the speakers… it was taking Zeke some time getting in the car. Casey dipped his head down to look at the young man through the driver’s side. He was standing still, facing the house. Casey swallowed and called, “Please… let’s go,” through the cracked-open window. That urged Zeke into grunting, opening the door and getting in.
“You’re promising me… right? Nobody made that sobbing mess I saw in you. Right?”
Casey sighed. He’d tell Zeke about his coming-across Tim, who’d be more aptly-named ‘Dickface’ instead. He was inconsequential enough in the grand scheme of things to make Casey’s reply of, “Yes, Zeke. I promise,” honest. Without another angry declaration made, Zeke put the car in drive and for a few feet, kept it slow. The moment they were past the showroom’s worth of fancy cars, he punched the gas to send the sound of squealing, angry tires out into their surroundings like a bomb. It was obvious to Casey that Zeke wanted everyone in the house to jump, gasp and ask, ”What the hell was THAT??” They were nice enough to not deserve Zeke’s gritty attitude toward the lot, but it made Casey smile anyway.
~*~
Zeke had seemed to sense Casey’s need for some quiet time, not bothering to badger him with questions right-off. The first fifteen minutes of the drive home was spent listening to the engine’s strong thrumming and the radio, kept at a lower volume than usual. It let Casey concentrate on something other than the racing thoughts still plaguing his mind, picking distinctive, barely-there notes and lyrics from each tune until he managed to figure out which one it was.
It was after passing the noisy campus area of Kent State that Zeke said, “’Been thinking about applying here, actually.” It took Casey a few, molasses-slow moments to realize what he’d meant, but when he did, he gazed at Zeke with curiosity.
“Kent? College?”
“University.”
“No, I mean… you’re thinking about college? ‘Thought you… were gonna go to bartending school?”
Zeke shrugged and began talking-not about Casey, no digging questions about whatever mess he’d landed in tonight involved. From his thoughts on building up a ‘resume’ in going to Herrington Community before taking on a four-year program to the discoveries of himself he’d made purely by accident, Casey felt small but significant sparks firing off in his mind. The fact that, out of everything, Zeke had taken a liking to some potted plants a neighbor had brought by as a ‘thank you’ gift for shoveling her walk some weeks before had almost made Casey giggle outright.
“She said the miniature rose plant was almost on its way out and needed a lotta care, but if I got it going it’d be great to plant in my backyard when summer comes,” he’d said, shrugging as if this wasn’t remarkable or noteworthy. To Casey, it was.
“So, botany, huh?” he’d asked.
“May as well, right?”
Perhaps Zeke hadn’t realized that in a strange but wonderful way, he’d given a bright and pretty gift to Casey. It wasn’t just focusing on something other than Casey’s troubles, but how it was simply wonderful, imagining himself going over to help dig out plots in Zeke’s yard for him to create award-winning gardens. Growing up, Casey had longed to have his own fruit source in the backyard, especially blueberries. When he and his mother had gone to the new Wal-Mart that had sprung up to destroy all of the town’s small businesses, he’d paused to stare at the rows of blueberry bushes the store had displayed outside their garden center. But when he’d asked after them, his mother had hummed but said, “We’d need a lot of sun in the yard for them, late in the summer. Too much shade in ours. Anyway, your father was talking about setting up a small brick patio for the grill he’s planning to get…”
That patio had never been built, and no fruit bushes were brought home. In just his mentioning how he’d wanted some, Zeke had shrugged, smiled and said, “Well, MY yard gets tons of sun, so… could be doable.” That only led to Casey fantasizing about plot-digging and taking blueberry-breaks along the way.
It was only when they’d crossed the Herrington town line when Casey let out a heavy breath and sank into his seat further. He looked to Zeke, who was stamping out his cigarette in the ashtray. “Thanks. I mean that. Thanks, a lot,” he said.
“I was up, doesn’t matter,” Zeke replied.
“No, sorry, but-I ain’t letting this go all ‘ho-hum’. You… came through in a big way for me, tonight.”
Zeke shrugged again and gnawed at his lower lip. “You wanna spend the night at my place, instead of needing to deal with nerved-up parental units?” he asked.
“’Was hoping you’d offer. Yeah, absolutely,” Casey said.
“I’d figured,” Zeke said as he blinked left to get on his street.
Once at the house, Casey took a moment to stare at Zeke’s porch, windows… so wonderfully comfortable and familiar, almost as much as his own home. The car was shut off and Zeke, now showing some fatigue in a heavy yawn, said, “Home again, home again,” then stepped out, Casey getting out to join him on the way to the porch. The door was keyed open and they got inside, huffing and sighing as they removed winter clothes and dumped them on the side table provided.
“I’d ask if you wanted coffee, but…”
“Yeah, stimulants are off the table ‘til I feel ready for ‘em.”
“Got some cider? It was on sale, picked it up today.”
Casey nodded, said, “Yeah, sounds great, thanks,” then toed his shoes off. As Zeke went to get them some refreshment, Casey shuffled into the living room and went to the couch to plop himself down. The thick quilt on the back of it was brought down and laid out over his chilled body and he snuggled his limbs in close and tight to gather warmth.
Zeke soon returned, holding two glasses full of aromatic cider. He handed Casey one and went to the other end of the couch, took a sip then lit up. “Couch bed’s fucked-the support rail at the foot of it’s broken off, so half the damned thing hangs down to the floor. If you’re aching for sleep, I’ll go change the sheets of my bed for you,” he said.
“Uh… not needing it just yet, but I’ll be fine with just the couch. M’not taking your friggin’ bed,” Casey said, pausing to sip before adding, “You’ve kinda done enough for me tonight.”
“Still…”
“You basically didn’t bat an eye, getting involved in any which-way when it comes to Jeremy… and you’re my ex. Believe me, I’ll be ringing-up the Pope tomorrow to see if you qualify for saint-status. ‘K?”
Zeke turned a small frown to Casey. “I give a shit about you, a’right? Whether you’ve got a problem with a new guy or not, I’m glad you knew you could call me for help,” he told him. “Yeah, I worried about what went down, STILL wondering. But I’m not gonna pressure you to tell me anything. That’s between you and him, or whoever else.”
“Then why were you ready to break down Thomas’ door and start busting heads?” Casey asked, daring a smirk.
“Cos’ you snot-soaked my entire front? If you being that torn-up had someone’s name attached to it, I was gonna make sure it never happened again.”
Casey sobered a little. Zeke was all-too-willing to be the protective boyfriend he’d once been to Casey, incorporating it into their friendship seamlessly. It didn’t mean that Casey wasn’t seeing the stark intensity of just how much Zeke cared about him. He would’ve started crying, if he wasn’t so fatigued by the sobbing-breakdowns he’d already fought through. “I don’t know… if me and Jeremy are together anymore. I guess just being able to say that means we’re not,” he murmured before taking another gulp of the cool, crisp apple drink.
“Can I ask what happened? Like I said, ain’t gonna press shit,” Zeke said.
“No, it’s okay. But… it’s no real mystery, really. Everyone’s said it already; we’re different, in too many ways.”
“Well… yeah. But it’s nothing that can’t be smoothed over?”
“If… if we did nothing but the photography club, go out together just one-on-one, didn’t make big social plans? We’d be close to perfect. We get along, hard-enjoy a ton of the same stuff together.” Casey took a deep breath and put his glass aside, its chill reaching too deep into his fingers. He tucked his hands back under the blanket and between his knees before going on, “But… as hard as I tried to bum-around that party, and Jeremy was a great boyfriend, sticking by my side through the night instead of ditching me around every corner… and the guy holding the party was a doll. But… the only reason I belonged was my belonging to one of them. I couldn’t join in on any poker games to play anyone, insist on changing music or-“
“Wait, wait… back up. They didn’t let you play friggin’ card games? I still remember you owning my ass a few times when we’d get the cards out,” Zeke said.
“Yeah, I know. My biggest haul was sixty-three cents.”
“For penny poker, that’s an invertible jackpot.”
“Well… none of the chips people bought went lower than twenty bucks. And Jeremy sat at the ‘medium minimum betting’ table, at fifty bucks to get dealt in. I saw a lot of purple chips get tossed in-five-hundred, boom, right there.”
Zeke raised his eyebrows. “Well, shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Still, no ‘no-stakes’, just-for-fun tables were kicking around?” Zeke asked. At Casey’s shrug, he scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Don’t even tell me Jeremy kept you around for some ridiculous ‘blow on my cards’ shit…”
Casey had to laugh. “Were you there, or something?”
“Oh, he can get fucked…”
“Hey…” Casey drawled but still grinned. “Anyway, I was BAD luck at the start. I didn’t even think of how it’d look to everyone when I almost did a cheerleading routine, celebrating Jer’s good hand. Fold, fold, fold, and I’m the red-faced moron being thanked for my exuberance.”
Zeke finally betrayed himself with a smile. “Good. Like you need to be involved in that kinda scene, anyway… stick with pennies.”
“Uh, yeah, I have to, even if I wanted to do more. Duh.” Casey scratched the top of his head and moved on, saying, “I hadn’t lied when I promised that nobody made me that big, fat crying mess. But there was one rotten apple in the bunch.”
“Oh yeah?”
Casey nodded. “An ex of Jeremy’s, actually. He was the only real snobby fucker there-he came into a room I was sitting in with this other guy. And-well, he was a grumpy little jerk, too…”
“So two asshats, then. When I’d asked ‘point ‘em out’, I meant it,” Zeke said.
“They sucked, hard-but they weren’t the real reason I started losing my cool,” Casey said in a rush. “Tim there, ex-guy… just needlessly petty and mean. It stung me as it was happening, but Thomas, the guy throwing this thing? He was passing by and all it took was seeing Tim sitting next to me for him to stride in and ‘save’ me. Jeremy came back from the basement gaming he’d been finishing up, some minor drama went down…”
“What’d this guy say?” Zeke suddenly asked. “Like, precisely.”
“Why? You gonna drive back? Cos’ I won’t go with to point him out, you’d have to go in and ask around,” Casey said with a wry smirk. When Zeke raised his eyebrows and continued staring at him, Casey sighed and said, “Just a load of thinly-veiled insults. Dunno if you noticed, but-I let Jeremy have his way with my wardrobe.” Casey tugged the blanket down to show off the sweater, raising his arms and sighing. “Gucci shit. I figured, whatever, I’d dress-up the way he was begging me to.”
“Brown’s not your color. Not that shade, anyway,” Zeke said.
“Yeah, that’s important. Anyway… Tim recognized it, AND the pants as Jeremy’s, so he threw out a few opinions about it, whatever else. When Jeremy joined the ‘rescue Casey’ mission and told Thomas to bring me back to the main room and bar, I heard the jaggoff say something about how Jeremy was next gonna trade his Audi in for an old Chevy truck, or something. Obviously saying his dating me was-that, a downgrade. Whatever.” Casey paused to reach back to the cup, take a sip then put it back. “But I DID mean it, he wasn’t the end-all reason I wanted out.”
Though Zeke still looked annoyed about Casey’s retelling of events with the one ‘bad seed’, he shifted in his seat to prop his head up on his hand. “Just… everything, I’m guessing?” he said.
“Yeah. Everything.” Casey made a sad moan and shook his head. “And y’know… when you and me talked, or-I’d finally let you talk about all the things that’d bugged you, I wanted to go to this thing to prove I could go halfway. Be fair. He’d come out with me and MY friends, so I’d look like an ass, refusing to hang out with his. So I dressed the way he wanted, didn’t say ‘boo’ about his music likes and dislikes on the drive there and tried my best to stay open and friendly. And I’ve said it a billion times, but-they were all really, really nice. Tim was the exception; Thomas hates the guy and let me know it, even said how good I was for Jeremy to have as a boyfriend. So it wasn’t the people… it was how they… lived.”
Zeke hummed, slugged back the last of his drink and set it down on the table with Casey’s. “You’re a simple guy, Case. Nothing wrong with that,” he said.
“Yeah, and to go against the stereotypes about ‘spoiled rich boys’, the way THEY are isn’t wrong, either. They’re just lucky, or managed good educations for big-time professions, whatever. But when I’m sitting at a table with Jeremy and his besties, I can offer nothing to the bulk of their conversations. I’d already started feeling really alone, in just being me, but it only got worse when Thomas helped me through the maze of his house to get to the pool, where Jeremy had gone off to while I’d been in the bath… god, and that…”
Casey knew he was jumping from subject to subject, but Zeke stayed straight-faced as Casey backed up to say, “Two guys came into the bathroom, luckily after I finished pissing… they brought out a mirror, rolled up fifty and a credit card to get some lines of coke going… they even invited me to join in. Didn’t, of course,” Casey added quickly in seeing Zeke’s face go instantly stern. “But… it was enough for me to think on how that’s-that’s just not some ‘whatever’, casual thing that goes on around me, or almost anyone we’re friends with. Y’know? So yeah, had to hunt Jeremy down feeling dizzy and shit… told him I wanted to go home, but…”
“Couldn’t he have just driven you home then gone back? Not saying he’s an ass, cos’ yeah, it’s a drive, but… the party’s not getting fucking shut-down at a specific minute and everyone goes home, right?” Zeke asked.
“No, but… keep in mind, the guest-list had people who he hadn’t seen in ages. People coming from airports and shit, just for this one party. And he WAS worried, felt torn when I asked… so when he suggested later that I could use one of the upstairs guestrooms to relax, sleep, whatever, I’d figured it was fair enough. Thomas was awesome, brought me blankets, left his cell number by the phone… Jer tucked me in and I tried chilling out,” Casey said. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “I only felt worse, couldn’t get comfortable-puked just from the anxiety alone.”
“Damn, Case…” Zeke said, his brow knitted in sympathy. He shook his head and said, “Again, not calling him an ass, but if you were that bad while depending on him so much? Sorry, but he should’ve done the right thing and brought you home. Euro-flights arriving or not.”
“But I did what I had to and got myself a ride-calling you, I mean. And… before you got there I went down to tell him, and…” Casey halted now, not knowing how much else he wanted to relay to Zeke. “…I hurt him, in a way. Especially when he found out WHO was picking me up.”
“Yeah? Cool, he can come by for some fisticuffs if he’s up for it.”
“Come on, Zeke… calling my ex to ‘save me’ from my boyfriend’s friend’s party? Having to tell everybody what went down? Like you’d be cool with that.”
“Like you said… I’m the ex, gathering you up from a night out with your boyfriend. Not exactly the norm, is it-from my position, anyway, right?” Zeke asked. Before Casey could worry that he’d upset two people and Zeke had just been hiding it better, the young man smirked. “I didn’t mind it. At all. If you guys stay together, good. Maybe you can work shit out. I’d already played my ‘oops, my bad’ card back with your dad, remember?”
“I doubt it, though. Me and him staying together,” Casey said, his voice lowering down to a murmur. “Dunno how to feel about it. I’m sad, of course… but if I’m gonna be with someone, I don’t want any part of that… being with them having to NOT be with them and… I’m rambling.”
“Yeah, a bit. But I get it.” Zeke stood, took their glasses and before setting off for the kitchen asked, “So, you seriously don’t want the bed?”
“I’m fine, really. If you just toss a pillow and extra blanket my way, the couch’s comfy enough.”
“Mmkay.”
Casey slumped lower into the cushions as Zeke left to put their glasses in the sink. Casey turned to his right side and stared ahead at the TV. A little extra, buzzing noise was needed, so he grabbed the remote from the side table and flicked the set on. The screen came to life, showing off… “The fuck?” Casey thought at the strange… thing… mannequin?
”Burn those calories and turn fat into muscle with the new SLAM-MAN, the innovative new workout system that…”
“Oh, god, ZEKE!” Casey called out as a big, stupid grin came over his face. Zeke rushed in, looking alarmed.
“What, what’s-“ he went to ask but stopped when he saw what was on the screen. “Yes! That’s it, that stupid Slam-Guy-“
“Slam-MAN, shit! This is…”
Casey didn’t get to finish as both boys dissolved into laughing messes over the strange and sudden switch to a half-dozen people, all choreographed and synchronized into a dance involving their punching, kicking and slapping the weirdest exercise tool they’d ever seen. “Shit, it’s almost over!” Casey said when he saw the clock in the hall reading 2:26.
“No, I promise, they showed it like, ten times in a row the night I was watching. Anyway, there’s this other informercial involving a juicer that… saves lives or makes you see God, or-“ Zeke brightened, glanced to the kitchen then asked Casey, “Got some microwaved popcorn and I’m suddenly not tired?”
“Go for it,” Casey said with boyish excitement, though Zeke was already rushing back into the kitchen.
~*~