Fifty cents for your soul - Chapter Three
Chapter Three
When Jared was three, Mom and Dad brought the twins home. Elena and Ilona came from an orphanage in Romania, and Mom thought that they might, maybe, look a bit like Jared when they grew up because his background was Polish.
Romania and Poland may have been close on a map of Europe, but the girls didn’t grow to look anything like Jared. They were a lot darker and a lot shorter than him for a start, and Ilona had a limp. She had to have a lot of surgery to correct some problem with her hip, caused, the pediatrician said, by having been left lying in a cramped crib for days on end. The twins were quieter than Jared too and nowhere near as inquisitive.
When Jared was five, Mom and Dad brought home Dosu, who had the blackest skin Jared had ever seen. He came from an orphanage in Mogadishu, which was nowhere near either Poland or Romania, so Jared figured that Mom and Dad had given up on trying to get all their kids to match. Dosu was Jared’s favorite. He was a happy, bubbly kid, full of life and energy, and Jared’s only brother.
Finally, when Jared was seven, Mom and Dad brought home Raisa. She was just as dark at Dosu, but she came from an orphanage in a part of Africa called the Democratic Republic of Congo. Raisa loved to dance and was always getting in trouble with Nanny for shaking her hips in a way that Nanny said was ‘inappropriate’. Nanny said a lot of things were inappropriate and she reinforced her views on appropriate behavior vigorously, with a small wooden paddle. Jared’s butt throbbed remembering it. Or maybe the hard wooden chair he’d been sitting on for several hours was finally starting to bruise his backside.
Jared leaned against the back of the kitchen chair, wrapped his arms around it and cracked his back. He was part way through a very large pile of books that Jeff had left for him to read, and there was no doubt in his mind that Nanny would’ve considered most-if not all-of them highly inappropriate. For example, according to the book he was currently reading, masturbation was a normal and healthy part of adolescent and adult sexuality. Nanny called it The Vile Habit (the capitalization obvious in her tone) and the one time she’d caught him doing it, she’d paddled his twelve-year-old butt so hard that sitting down had hurt for a week.
The more of Jeff’s books Jared read, the more bewildered he became. On the one hand, the well-reasoned, medical, secular approach to human sexuality detailed in the various texts spread across the kitchen table made a lot of sense to him. On the other hand, he’d been taught that any type of sexual interaction outside of the covenant of marriage was a sin. Fornication was a sin. Adultery was a sin. Contraception was a sin. The Roman Catholic Church held that the purpose of sexual intercourse was procreation and that deliberately preventing the joining of an egg and sperm was a sin. In times gone by, the Church took a strict line on what that meant; if you didn’t want a baby, you abstained from sex, even if you were married. Nowadays, the Church accepted that a healthy physical relationship was good for a marriage and they preached a combination of abstinence and natural family planning methods, such as the rhythm method.
Jared knew that not all Christian denominations took the same hard line as his Church. And there were a lot of Catholic priests who felt that Catholic dogma needed to be brought in line with contemporary thinking too. Father Michael was one of them. He’d been to an inter-faith conference earlier in the year and had come home with enthusiastic tales of ministries which thought-and did things-very differently. Some allowed the ordination of women; some approved of contraception; some were accepting of homosexuality. One pastor had told Father Michael that he had a lot more success with his younger parishioners when he explained things to them using facts and logic. He’d told his Youth Group that pre-marital sex was wrong, not only because the Bible said so, but also because sexual arousal increased a person’s production of pheromones, and exposure to sexual pheromones could leave a person very vulnerable to being manipulated by another. This fact, the pastor said, proved that the trust and commitment of marriage was needed before any type of sexual contact was safe to indulge in.
Brother Paul had scoffed and said that the word of the Bible alone ought to be good enough for everyone. He and Father Michael rarely saw eye to eye on matters of canon law and doctrine. Paul was older, a traditionalist who argued vigorously that you couldn’t pick and choose what you wanted to believe. He disapproved of Michael’s progressive views, and during one memorable clash had accused him of pandering to the whims of the ‘Cafeteria Catholics’, and letting their faith down. But Jared could see why change was necessary. His upbringing had been sheltered, his parents and carers conservative traditionalists, and even he could see that the Church’s inflexible hierarchy was becoming increasingly irrelevant to a generation who had the world’s biggest knowledge library and research facility at their fingertips. Jared had never liked it when Nanny or his parents told him ‘because I said so,’ and while faith meant trusting in God implicitly, he still liked to have God’s word backed up by fact. He could see that giving people rational explanations for doctrine was helpful.
Jared’s brow creased as he flicked through a pamphlet from Planned Parenthood. He could see the value in abstaining from sexual activity until you found someone who you could really trust, but did a ceremony make someone more trustworthy? Given the number of people who committed adultery, Jared didn’t think so. Was marriage really important, or was it the love and loyalty in a person’s heart that had the real value? Jeff and Sam weren’t married, yet they seemed completely committed to each other.
Jared picked up a book with a rainbow-colored cross on the front cover. Homosexuality was another sin. Father Michael always said that God didn’t make mistakes, that those who were same-sex attracted were just as God intended, but because sex without the capacity for procreation was a sin, same-sex attracted couples must never act on that attraction. That had always seemed rather cruel to Jared. Then again, a lot of God’s tests and challenges seemed cruel. Brother Paul always said that God had a plan and just because we didn’t understand it, it didn’t mean the plan wasn’t a good one. If we could see the bigger picture, the tests God gave us wouldn’t seem so cruel. Trust in God, Paul would say, waggling a finger at Jared, and you won’t be led astray.
Jared put down the book and picked up his cup of tea with a sigh. Sam had left him a plate of cookies too and he helped himself to an Oreo, polishing it off in two quick bites, before taking a slurp of his sweet, milky tea. Jared could trust in God, that wasn’t a problem. He believed in God’s word. But he had increasingly been finding-even before he’d left the monastery-that he didn’t trust in man’s interpretation of God’s word. The more he learnt about theology, the more he analyzed canon law and religious doctrine, and examined the meaning of scripture, the less certain he became. And the texts that Jeff had just given him to read? Jared put his cup down and buried his head in his hands. Brother Paul would call some of them heretical and call for them to be burned.
Jared peeked through his fingers at the books he hadn’t been game to tackle yet. He knew now why Father Michael had sent him here. This was a test of faith. Out here in the real world, Jared’s beliefs were being challenged as never before and if Jared were going to be anybody’s priest, then he had to be absolutely certain that his belief in the righteousness of his Church was rock solid. Right now? He wasn’t so sure that it was.
-X-
The clomp-clomp of foot-falls on the stairs and the rustle of shopping bags announced Sam’s return. Jared pushed back from the table and rushed to see if he could help. He met Sam half way down the stairs and insisted on taking the four white shopping bags she was carrying off her hands.
“How was your morning?” he asked.
“Can’t complain. I did the shopping for downstairs and then helped out with lunch prep and serving. How’s your reading going?”
Jared pulled a face. “There’s a lot there to think about. And I think we can safely say that I now know more about STDs than I ever wanted to,” he shuddered. “Some of those pictures are pretty scary.”
He dumped the bags on the kitchen bench. “Do you want me to help you unpack them?”
“No, I got it. You get on with your reading. Did you have lunch yet?”
“I did,” Jared sat back down at the table. “I had a ham and cheese sandwich and some orange juice.” He glared at the pile of books before him and then sighed. Jared loved reading, he really did, but he never had been the kind of person who could sit still for long. He flipped open the book he’d been reading when he’d heard Sam coming up the stairs, a straight-talking little text called Sex. Sex chatted happily and graphically about the various ways a man and a woman could enjoy making love together. It even had pictures. Jared turned the page and was confronted by a picture of a man licking a woman’s vagina. His face flushed and he slammed the book shut. There was no way he could read this with Sam in the room. He glanced across at Sex’s companion book, a similar sized text called Gay Sex. The idea of looking at that one terrified him.
“Sam?”
“Yes, Sweetie?”
“I’ve been reading for nearly five hours and, well, I kind of need to do something now. Is there…anything I can help with?”
Sam eyed him speculatively and then reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone. She punched in a number and then waited.
“Jeff? It’s NA this afternoon, right?
“No, I was just wondering if maybe Jared could come down and help you. He’s been reading all morning and he’s kind of,” Sam eyed Jared with a twinkle in her eye, her lips twitching, “champing at the bit; needs to burn off some energy. You know, go outside and play.”
Jared could hear Jeff’s booming laugh from where he sat at the table and he flushed slightly at being described like a child. Sam winked at him and then nodded a couple of times.
“Okay. Great. I’ll send him down,” she hung up and turned to Jared with a smile. “Jeff’s downstairs in the drop-in center. He said you can go down and he’ll find some things for you to help with. Is that alright?”
Jared shot to his feet. “It’s great,” he glanced up sheepishly from beneath his bangs. “I’m sorry if I’m too…bouncy. Brother Paul used to say I was like Tigger from those children’s stories; always leaping about and being too curious for my own good.”
“Jared, honey,” Sam came across and patted the back of his hand. “In our line of work there’s no such thing as a person with too much energy. You go on downstairs now and put that bounciness to good use.”
-X-
Credence Clearwater Revival was singing about junk yard dogs and Jeff was cleaning mashed potato and gravy off a wall when Jared walked into Per Vias Rectas.
At the far end of the drop-in center, which was much longer than it was wide, there were several battered couches and coffee tables, and some old school desks which housed PCs. In the middle of the room there were a bunch of big, rectangular tables with white plastic table cloths, and at the front there was a collection of shelves, crammed full of books and magazines. Several of the shelves had brightly colored plastic bowls, filled with condoms, on top of them. Jared looked away quickly, embarrassed, but his eyes immediately caught a poster showing one man kissing the neck of another while holding a condom packet. The caption read: Rip and Roll. Now completely mortified, he tore his eyes away and swallowed, before clearing his throat and waving at Jeff.
Jeff straightened up, his movements loose and fluid and his smile easy.
“Hey, kid.”
Jared nodded at the mashed potato dripping down the wall. “What happened?”
Jeff’s smile dimmed. “Amos O’Sullivan happened. Most of the time he’s harmless; mutters to himself, holds tight to his bag, and bends your ear with baseball stats if you sit still for too long, but he’s harmless. When he goes off his meds it’s a whole different story. He thinks he’s still fighting the Viet Cong. Today he took exception to Mary Tran coming over to sit at his table; threw a full plate of food at her.”
“Oh,” Jared struggled to think of something to say to that. “Um. Does…stuff like that happen often?”
Jeff shrugged. “It’s a volatile environment. So. I’ve got Alona and Rob on clean-up duty in the kitchen. I was thinking you could go and give them a hand and then come back out here at 3.00 o’clock and sit in on the NA meeting. How does that sound?”
Jared nodded vigorously. “Good. Sounds good. What’s an NA meeting?”
Jeff blinked. “NA stands for Narcotics Anonymous. It’s like an AA meeting, only for drug addicts rather than alcoholics.”
Jared nodded again. “AA. I guess that’s Alcoholics Anonymous, right?”
For a moment Jeff just stared at him and then he drew a deep breath and ran a hand across his mouth. “Right. I keep forgetting. Sheltered upbringing.”
“I’m sorry,” Jared’s face was like a kicked puppy’s again.
Jeff smiled and patted Jared on the arm. “You don’t need to be. I just need to remember to do a better job of explaining things to you. Speaking of, how did you find the reading I gave you?”
Jared’s mouth twisted. “Some of it was pretty confronting. Some of the pictures were…graphic.”
Jeff chuckled. “Wait ‘til you meet our clients,” he said. “Some of them make Chad look like the epitome of decorum and good taste.”
“Chad?” Jared frowned. “Chad was nice.”
Jeff gaped. “Really? He was worried that he’d scarred you for life with all his foot-in-mouth rambling.”
Jared shook his head. “He just told me the truth about himself. And what you do here. I’ve been lied to a lot in my life, always ‘for my own good’. I appreciate honesty just about more than anything.”
Jeff looked at him searchingly and then nodded approvingly. “You know Jared,” he slapped him on the back. “I think you’re going to do just fine here. Now, how about you go and help Alona and Rob in the kitchen?”
-X-
Alona was a sweet, blonde girl. She took Jared under her wing immediately, explaining to him how the kitchen operated, when and how they served meals, where everything went and what could be stacked in the dishwasher and what had to be washed by hand. Rob was elbow deep in dirty dish water, hand washing pots, so he merely raised a wet hand and gave Jared a muttered greeting as Alona flitted around the place giving Jared the guided tour. Eventually, she put him to work drying the pots that Rob was washing and went back to rinsing off the next load of dishes that would go in the dishwasher. Both she and Rob proved to be friendly and chatty and Jared soon had their life stories.
Alona was twenty-four, a former US Army Transmission Systems Operator who had served out her first four year term and then found a lump in her breast during her routine, re-enlistment medical. After a lot of soul-searching she had opted not to re-enlist and six months of chemo later she was in remission and working for the CW as a Sound Recordist. She worked long, irregular hours, sometimes on location, but at the moment her show was on hiatus, so she was filling her days with volunteer work.
Rob was forty, a freelance editor who worked mostly for a major publishing house. He had lost his younger brother Phil to drug addiction and the streets years ago, and volunteered at Per Vias Rectas as a sort of a penance; he thought that if he’d been a better brother, Phil might still be alive.
When Jared explained that he was here to do twelve months work in the community before taking his final vows to become a Catholic priest, Rob raised his eyebrows and looked at him askance, but Alona beamed.
“My father is a Rabbi,” she said. “I have a lot of respect for people who feel a calling to lead their congregation in worship.”
The kitchen was more or less clean now and Rob shoved the very last washed baking tray into the cupboard with a loud clatter.
“You sure about the priesthood, kid?” he said. “Never having a life partner, never having kids and a family. That’s a big decision.”
“Oh yeah,” Alona’s face fell. “You guys aren’t allowed to marry, are you? That’s so weird.”
Jared cleared his throat. “To be honest…I think that’s why I’m here. Father Michael wanted me to get some real life experience before I take the final step.”
“Hmmm,” Alona was looking at him thoughtfully. “Jared,” suddenly Jared didn’t like the twinkle in her eye. “Have you ever dated?”
He blushed and shook his head.
“Okay,” she hooked her arm through his and beamed up at him. “I’ve got a couple of non-Jewish girlfriends whose little sisters would love to do dinner and a movie with a tall, handsome young man like you. I’m gonna set you up with some dates, baby.”
“I…no,” Jared shook his head. “I don’t think that’s the kind of ‘life experience’ he had in mind. I’ve taken a vow of celibacy. I can’t…go…can’t do…”
Alona laughed. “You really think you’re gonna get lucky on the first date? You can date, Jared. And the fact that you won’t be pushing for sex? Definite factor in your favor.”
Jared squirmed. “It’s very nice of you to, you know, um, but, uh…can you, maybe, not? I mean…I don’t think…I…”
“Whoa!” Alona put her hands over Jared’s. “Relax. It’s no big deal. I was just trying to help. If you don’t want to date at the moment, that’s fine.”
Jared took a tremulous, deep breath and then smiled. “Sorry. I just don’t really like the idea of being set up like that. Too much pressure. I’d rather just…get to know people. And if it happens just, you know, take it from there.”
“No, I’m sorry.” Alona patted him on the hand. “Momma always says I’m too pushy.”
Jared grinned at her. “You know one of my older sisters-not older than me, I’m the oldest, but she’s one of the older girls; one of the twins and the twins are only eighteen months younger than me. Anyway, her name’s Ilona, really similar to yours. But you actually remind me a little of our youngest sister, Raisa. She’s only fourteen-the baby of the family-but she’s definitely the bossiest.”
Alona laughed. “Bossy, yeah, that’s me. I’m the baby of the family too. Maybe that’s what it is, huh?”
Before Jared could respond, though, Jeff called for him and asked him to help set the room up for the NA meeting.
-X-
If there was one thing that Jensen did not need in his life, it was the God Squad. In his experience, Jesus freaks were judgmental, bigoted assholes, who were way too obsessed with his sex life and nowhere near interested enough in the aspects of his life that were actually a problem. Those parts, he’d changed by himself with no help from anybody-except Chris-so as far as Jensen was concerned, Jeff Morgan and his little bunch of do-gooders could go fuck themselves.
“Jay? Jensen!”
Jensen looked at Danneel. “What?”
“Why’d you stop walking?”
Jensen glanced across the road at the front door of Per Vias Rectas and shuddered. He pulled his hood up and ducked his head, burying his hands deep into the front pocket of his hoodie. “I’m only doing this for you,” he said. “Don’t expect me to be nice to anyone.”
Danneel sighed and took ahold of his wrist, pulling one hand free of the hoodie, and holding it firmly in her own manicured hand.
“Pussy,” she said fondly, before tugging him across the road and through the front door of the drop-in center.
Jensen hadn’t expected the place to smell so homey. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. It was almost like being back home, on a day when his momma had made meatloaf. He squeezed Danni’s hand and leaned into the warmth of her body before opening his eyes and looking around. The place was nicer than he’d expected. There were gay-friendly safe sex posters, books, PCs, tables, couches, a friendly, relaxed atmosphere and not a single religious symbol in sight.
Jensen straightened his back and reinforced his internal defenses. This was how they got you. They pretended to be your friend, gave you nice things and slowly reeled you in. Then the Jesus talk started. He died for you, even though he hates fags. You have to change. Who you are isn’t good enough for God. You’ll go to hell. Well fuck that. They could go to hell! Jensen liked who he was and he wasn’t changing for anybody.
The man himself, Jeff Morgan, looked up from where he and another guy were setting out chairs in a big circle. He smiled and straightened up, stepping forward as if to greet them. He probably thought he had some new meat to drag into his flock of mindless sheep, but Jensen planned on disabusing him of that notion pretty quick.
Jensen was nobody’s sheep.
He forestalled the ex-Father’s greeting by giving a low whistle and then strutting forward, swinging his hips loosely. “Well fuck me sideways, Padre. Here I am on holy ground, and I didn’t burst into flames yet!”
Jeff’s smile had the audacity to widen.
“This ain’t holy ground, kid,” he said.
“Ain’t a kid,” Jensen retorted.
Jeff held out a hand. “Jeff Morgan. Pleased to meet you.”
Jensen nodded. “I know who you are,” he pointed at Danneel, who was glaring daggers at him. “She wants to talk to you.”
Danneel took that as her cue to hurry forward and shake Jeff’s hand.
“I’m Danneel,” she said. “I’ve seen you around. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sir.”
“Ass kisser,” Jensen said.
Danni smacked his arm and gave him the laser eyes of death. “Asshole. Sorry, sir.”
“No apology necessary. And please, call me Jeff. It’s nice to meet you, Danneel. Do you work around here?”
Danneel nodded. “I’m a dancer over at Whiskey and Rye.”
“Oh, I know one of the bar tenders down there. Steve? Great singing voice. Plays the guitar.”
“Yes,” Danneel beamed. “He’s good friends with Jensen’s roommate, Chris.”
She nodded at Jensen as she spoke and now Jensen was the one glaring. The last thing he wanted was someone like Jeff Morgan knowing his real name.
“You must be, Jensen,” Jeff Morgan offered his hand again.
Jensen ignored it. “Nah, I’m Dean.”
He stared over Jeff’s shoulder at the guy who’d been helping Jeff set up when they walked in. He was kind of cute; a floppy-haired kid with puppy dog eyes. Now that he wasn’t bent over moving furniture around, Jensen could see that he was really tall too. And holding a chair in front of himself like some kind of protective barricade. Jensen grinned wickedly.
“Hey there, cowboy,” he stepped around Jeff and sashayed toward the kid. The kid’s eyes widened adorably and he started to blush. “Well ain’t you just a long, tall, cool drink of water.”
The kid took a step backwards and somehow managed to fall over a chair, knocking several others flying and ending up sprawled on his back on the floor.
“You okay, Jared?” Jeff came hurrying over.
Jensen leaned down quickly and helped the kid to his feet before Jeff could reach them. The kid’s hands were sweaty and so damn big that Jensen’s heart skipped a beat. Just thinking about those hands wrapped around his cock was enough to start his motor running.
“Jared, huh?” Jensen pitched his voice low.
The kid blushed again and nodded. “What is your name?” he ventured. “Dean or Jensen?”
Jensen replied in the smoky-gravelly voice that made tricks go weak at the knees. “Sweetheart, my name’s whatever you want it to be,” he stepped forward, right into Jared’s personal space, then reached down and palmed the kid’s cock. The kid went completely rigid.
“Damn. Hands like that, I just knew you’d be proportional. Might even do you for free.”
A hard hand on Jensen’s shoulder ripped him away from confused puppy eyes and adorable floppy hair. The hand spun him around and Jensen found himself facing a very angry grizzly bear. “For fuck’s sake,” the grizzly growled. “He’s a kid!”
Jensen glanced back at Jared. He saw the innocence in his eyes and the awkwardness of his stance and suddenly the confusion and blushing made sense of a different sort. He’d just molested a child. A very tall child, to be sure, but still just a boy.
Jensen’s stomach flipped and he could feel the color draining from his face.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his tone aghast. “I didn’t…I would never…”
Jared shook his head. “I’m not a kid. I’m nearly 19.”
“But he’s led a very sheltered life,” Jeff contradicted.
Jensen was relieved that he hadn’t actually molested a child, but the implication that because Jared had been over-protected his whole life, everyone had to continue to treat him with kid gloves, really pissed him off.
“Yeah?” he said, voice hard. “Well ain’t that just awesome for him. Not all of us had the luxury of being protected from the world.”
Jeff scrubbed a hand over his face and when he looked back up at Jensen the angry grizzly was gone and his professional demeanor was back in place.
“You’re right,” he said. “And I’m sorry that there was no one there to protect you when you needed it.”
Before Jensen could protest that he’d never needed anyone’s help, least of all someone like Jeff’s, Jeff spoke again. “Are you and Danneel here for the NA meeting?”
Jensen scowled. “Oh, what? Because we work in the industry we gotta be addicts, is that what you think?”
“Jensen!” Danni was getting pissed. “Chill. Out.”
Jeff held his hands up. “Just asking. You got here right before an NA meeting, is all.”
“We’re not addicts,” Danneel said, putting a hand on Jensen’s arm. “But I did want to talk to you about something. Do you have a minute?”
Jeff said that he did and Danneel suggested, rather forcefully, that Jensen might like to wait for her over by the door.
“Sure. I’ll just go check out the books. And before you ask, Jeff,” Jensen’s voice dripped sarcasm, “yes, I can read.”
They actually had some decent books. Jensen had been expecting the kind of books that got adapted into sappy Hallmark movies, but they had classics like Slaughterhouse 5, Nineteen Eighty-four and Fahrenheit 451, all of which he’d enjoyed, as well as modern stuff like Angels and Demons and Harry Potter. Jensen was flicking idly through another book by the author of Slaughterhouse 5, when the kid sidled up next to him.
“I’m sorry,” the kid said. “Jeff shouldn’t have yelled at you on my account.”
Jensen glanced up at him. The kid’s eyes were utterly sincere. Jensen sighed. “Yeah, well. I shouldn’t’ve groped you like that. It was a dick move.”
The kid sniggered. “Literally.”
Jensen groaned and smacked himself on the forehead. “Bad pun not intended.”
The kid grinned. “So,” he said, “have you read any of these books?”
Jensen stiffened. “Surprised a hooker would read Vonnegut?”
The kid’s eyes widened. “You’re a…a…prostitute?” He looked so genuinely surprised that for a moment Jensen was floored.
“What did you think I was?” he asked.
The kid shrugged. “A ballet dancer like Danneel?”
Jensen gaped at him. The kid couldn’t be this naïve…could he?
“Danni isn’t a ballet dancer, kid. She’s a stripper.”
“Oh.” The kid looked down at his feet, his bangs falling into his eyes and hiding them from Jensen’s view. “I’m not a kid, you know. And my name’s Jared, remember?”
“Look at me, Jared.”
Jared raised his head and met Jensen’s eyes.
“Jeff really wasn’t kidding when he said you’d led a sheltered life, was he?”
Jared shook his head.
“What are you, Amish or something?”
Jared snorted. “I may as well be, for all I know about the real world. But no. My parents are wealthy. They kept me and my siblings pretty isolated growing up.”
Jensen stared at him and then shook his head. “Well, I’ll just bet they’re delighted that you’re down here in West Hollywood socializing with hookers and strippers.”
Jared frowned and ran a hand over his chin. “To be honest, I’m not sure they even know I’m here. As far as they know, I’m at the monastery in the Hills, training for the priesthood.”
Once again, Jensen was caught completely off-guard. “You’re gonna be a priest?”
Jared nodded.
“Wow. What a waste.”
Jared’s brow furrowed. “Why makes you say that?”
“Well look at you,” Jensen waved a vague hand at him.
Jared looked down at himself and then quirked his head quizzically.
“You’re hot,” Jensen rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me no-one ever told you that before.”
“Nope. Isolated upbringing, remember?”
“Wow. So you’re like a blank slate?”
Jared grinned. “That men will want to write on,” his eyes widened when Jensen’s jaw dropped. “Oh! No! Not…I mean… It’s a quote. From a song. From The Sound of Music. There’s this boy. Rolfe. And he likes Liesel, only he turns out to be a Nazi and anyway-”
Jensen put a hand to his arm. “It’s okay. I’ve seen the movie.”
“You have?”
“Danneel’s a fan. It’s one of her break-up movies.”
Jared frowned. “One of her what?”
“Break-up movies. Apparently I’m the closest thing she has to a best girlfriend,” Jensen rolled his eyes. “So when she gets dumped it’s apparently my job to bring around a tub of Ben and Jerry’s, and watch movies with her. And if you ever tell anyone that, I may have to kill you.”
“Why? It sounds like fun. What’s Ben and Jerry’s?”
Jensen just stared. This kid…Jared…he just kept surprising him.
“Uh, it’s ice cream. You’ve never had Ben and Jerry’s?”
“I’ve never had ice cream. My parents didn’t approve of it.”
“Wow. That’s…that’s fucking tragic.”
Jensen put the book he’d been looking at back on the shelf.
Jared peeked up at him from beneath his bangs. “You can take that book home if you want. We lend them out, you know. You just gotta put your name in the borrower’s register.” He picked the book up and pressed it back into Jensen’s hands.
Before Jensen knew quite what had hit him, he’d written his name in the register and signed an agreement to borrow Cat’s Cradle and return it within six weeks.
Jared beamed at him. “Now you have to come back,” he looked down at the register. “Jensen.”
“You want me to come back?”
Jared nodded.
“Why?”
“You’re funny. And interesting to talk to.”
“Interesting to talk to. Huh. You know, most people reckon there’s a better use for my mouth.”
Jared stared at him for a moment and then ducked his head.
“You have no idea what I’m talkin’ about, do you?” Jensen said.
“Yes I do,” Jared lifted his head. His face was scarlet and he wouldn’t meet Jensen’s eyes. “They want to kiss you.”
Jensen burst out laughing. He couldn’t help himself. “Wow,” he bent over, hands on his knees as he struggled to control himself. “You are so clueless. I don’t think I’ve ever met anybody as clueless as you before. I don’t know whether I want to put you in a glass case or dirty you up some.” Jensen straightened up, his composure finally regained, and saw that Jeff and Danneel were heading towards them. He glanced at Jared who was scowling like an angry kitten.
“Aw, baby. I wasn’t laughing at you. You’re just…”
“Clueless,” Jared folded his arms across his chest. “Yeah. I know.”
Jensen leaned against the book shelf, ankles crossed and one hand on his hip.
“Don’t be mad at me,” he said, pouting ever so slightly. “Jeff might yell at me again if he thinks you’re mad at me.”
Jared sighed. “I’m not mad.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Everything all right here?” said Jeff.
Danneel, Jensen was annoyed to see, had an armful of brochures. He frowned. This was how they got you.
“What you got there, Danni?” he asked.
Danni grinned and waved the brochures at him. “Jeff’s gonna help me get my GED.”
“Did you talk to him about Gen?”
Gen, it turned out, was in hospital. Jeff had offered to take Danni in to see her tomorrow afternoon so the three of them could have a talk about Gen’s options; see if Gen and Danni were in a position to help each other out.
Jeff, meanwhile, was looking at Jensen as if he were a puzzle to be solved, and it was making him feel uncomfortable. He grabbed a handful of condoms out of the pink plastic bowl on top of the book shelf. “Are these free?”
“They are,” Jeff nodded.
“Cool,” Jensen stuffed the condoms into his pocket, “If I’d’ve known y’all had free rubbers and good books in here I’d’ve come in years ago.”
Jeff looked sort of sad. “Well now that you know, maybe we’ll see you again?”
Jensen winked at Jared and waved the book at him. “Gotta come back. Gotta return this.”
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