I glanced at the cop standing next to me. He huffed and led me into the building and up to the room. I stuffed my clothes into a duffle bag. I didn’t have much besides a few pairs ofclothes and basic toiletries. The most important things I owned were in my backpack.
When I was outside again, I hugged my duffle close to my chest, the swarm of activity making me feel like I’d wandered into a hornet’s nest.
I’d been on my own since I was seventeen and eleven months. For the last three years, I’d slept on a stained mattress in a dilapidated building, working in restaurants as a busboy or as a janitor to keep myself dry and fed. I’d lost my job last week due to cutbacks, and I was likely settling in for the battle of my life against those that were supposed to have loved me. Now, I'd lost my bed in the middle of winter. Things couldn’t possibly get any worse, right?
As I stared at the clusterfuck of scrambling tenants and bored public servants, my throat tickled. A little voice reminded me,things canalwaysget worse.
CHAPTER TWO
SEAN
There was nothing I enjoyed more than weight-lifting while a blizzard raged outside. As fat snowflakes whipped and whirled behind the window, I was working up a healthy sweat with my new favorite gym-bro.
“Alright, are you ready?” I asked as I stood over the bench with my hands on the barbell.
Jere, Danny’s now-boyfriend, tossed me a look that asked,are you kidding?He blew out a big breath, took a deep one, and lifted the bar from its cradle. When I was sure he had it, I let go and watched with admiration as he pumped three-hundred pounds, his muscles bulging and veins popping. Several other gym-goers stopped to watch, likely considering passing him their phone numbers. He was a good looking guy in a harsh kind of way, tall, and body-builder strong that put me and most of the muscle-heads here to shame.
After five full pumps, I helped him slide the barbel into its cradle. Looking down on him, I cocked a brow. “I think you just like showing off.”
He sat up on the bench and wiped his brow with a towel. “That’s fair. Not for you, though.”
I offered him a knowing smirk. Before he’d moved to Chicago over the summer to help take care of Danny after some assholes had gay-bashed him, I’d only known Jere through Danny who had talked about his childhood best friend endlessly. I couldn’t help being a little jealous, but the two were soulmates and I was glad he’d found his forever person. It had happened rather unexpectedly, seeing as everyone believed him to be straight. But things happened the way they were supposed to.
“Ten more pounds?” I asked.
Jere glanced at the metal discs piled on the floor for a moment. “I can't stay long. Promised Danny I’d be home early tonight.”
“Just as well. Tonight is my monthly get together with some friends. Wasn’t sure if I wanted to go or not, but you leaving early makes the decision for me.” I kept it to myself that I’d purposely scheduled Jere’s day off to coincide with mine, so I had someone to hang out with. My closest friend, Gabriel, wasn’t much of a weight-lifter.
His jaw ticked, and he did a once over on me. Though we’d only been friends and gym-buddies for a few months, I’d discovered he wasn’t like most guys. He was prone to speaking bluntly and sometimes his honesty came out wrong and only made sense to him. It took me a little effort to understand what he was trying to say. But I enjoyed hanging out with him and I knew he was organizing the words in his head before he spoke.
“I think…me and Danny had our first fight,” he said with a frown. “You know, like a couple’s fight?”
I laid my towel around my neck and bit my lip, knowing he had more to say, but needed the time. “Youthink?”
“He said Iwasn’ta taco,” he said.
“I’m not sure if being compared to a taco is an insult or a compliment.” I sat next to him on the bench and slapped his shoulder. “Give me the context. What were you two arguing about?”
“He knocked over a drink and wouldn’t let me clean it up. He insisted he be the one to do it,” Jere said, whipping his own towel over his shoulder. “He doesn’t believe me when I say I like helping him. His exact words were:You’re not a taco, you can’t please everyone.” He laid the cloth over his head as if he needed a shield from the vulnerability he was showing me. “Sometimes people with traumatic brain injuries have emotional outbursts, but him being upset with me is hard.”
I took a moment to turn his words over in my mind. “He wants his independence back. I’ve only known him for a few years, but he can be prideful. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have a career and be on the verge of getting everything you’ve ever wanted, only to have it taken away by some cucks.”
“I know that,” Jere said in a rush of breath. “I just want to fix everything.”
I considered letting it go, but ultimately said, “But youcan’t.”
He nodded in understanding. “Doesn’t stop me from trying.”
“What happened after the argument?”
“He apologized and…the rest is none of your business.”
I barked in laughter, drawing several gazes and bumped him with my elbow. “You see? It ended well. You can’t fix everything, Jere. Like he said, you’re not a taco. All you can do is be there for him. Let him complain and vent.”
He pursed his lips. “Like, being a punching bag?”
“Exactly! Be his punching bag, but in a good way, of course.”
