“A little,” Patrick murmured. “It’s not too bad now.”
“Did you get any sleep?”
Patrick stared blankly across the room. “Some,” he mumbled.
“Any… calls?”
“No.”
Brian quieted a moment, then asked with concern, “Are you doing all right?”
He got what Brian was asking. “Yeah. Don’t worry, I’m not thinking about going. It’s six now. He’ll leave soon when he realizes I’m not coming.”
“You’re doing the right thing,” Brian said quietly. “I know it can be confusing sometimes but keep hold of God and he’ll take you where you need to go.”
“I know.”
“Okay. I’ll let you go so you can get some more rest. See you in church tomorrow?”
“Yes. For sure.”
“Great. Feel better. Talk to you later.”
“Thanks. Bye.”
Patrick held on to the cell after the call was over. His thumb slid across the screen, hesitated, then pressed thenew contacttab. He stared at the blank name space and slowly typed in Derek’s first name, started to delete it and instead, dug from his pocket the crumpled piece of paper with Derek’s phone number, the name of the restaurant, and the time of the date. Patrick put the phone number into his cell and again almost deleted the new contact. He saved it instead and laid the phone aside.
Why had he done that? He needed Derekgone—completely. Holding on to his number maintained a link between them.
He’s a porn star—sex is his career! He won’t go for a celibate relationship and you can’t have a sexual one.
“Let him go,” he whispered… but made no move to delete Derek’s name and number from his phone.
. . .
Derek arrived at the restaurant at 5:45 and took a window table that looked out over the parking area outside. He felt a bit foolish getting all “gussied” up for a date that wasn’t going to happen. While listening to Lucas and Garrett, a spark of hope ignited that maybe Patrick might actually show. Now that he was here, that spark extinguished.
He ordered a soda—Pepsi—and waited for the inevitable. Up to this moment right here, he’d been fooling himself. Though he kept insisting since yesterday that he knew there could be nothing between him and Patrick—the truth of it didn’t hit home until now.
“What’re you doing here?” he whispered. “Why are you putting so much effort into someone who doesn’t want to be with you?”
Derek avoided checking the time as he sipped the soda, staring out the window. He had no idea what kind of car Patrick drove and maybe that was good—or he would’ve strained his eyes seeking that specific vehicle. As it was, any car that pulled into the parking lot could be Patrick’s.
No, it couldn’t, because he isn’t coming.
The longer he sat here—waiting—the deeper reality set in. Had he been in a trance since yesterday, because that’s how it felt… like he was waking up from a hazy dream and his head had finally cleared. All his “fussing” over Patrick made no sense now, considering what he knew about the young man.
He checked the time. 6:03.
Maybe he was running late.
Derek mentally kicked himself for the thought. He wasn’t late because he didn’t intend on showing up.
Look on the bright side—you made some money.
Derek rubbed his eyes, startled and troubled to find them damp.
Fuck the money… I wanted the boy.
