Igot maybe four hourssleep.And what he’d said about me waking up with a hangover and a—that was really uncalled-for, but also, okay, yeah.But that’s normally how it is when I wake up.And what I’d said to him last night about wanting to...did not mean I was bi.I didn’t want to suck a bunch of guys’ dicks.Just his.When I was drunk.I didn’tnow.There should have been another word for what I was.Something straighter than “bi.”
When I went to the living room, he was still there.You know how it’s special when you get to see someone when they’ve just woken up?That was how I felt seeing him lying on his back on my couch, a little scruff on his face and his hair messed up.I handed him a towel, a spare toothbrush, and a razor and told him the bathroom was free.
He didn’t mention what I’d said last night, and neither did I.But I gave him a spare key to the building and my apartment.Because I wanted to keep being in his space, and I wanted him to be in mine.
“The keys are for if you want to come back.”I didn’t want to presume anything.
“I’ll be done work around eight,” he said.
“I’ll be back at six.And if you want to stay with me until you find somewhere better than the shelter, you’re welcome to my couch.”
“Thanks,” he said, and he sounded sincere.
I took the rest of the beer out of my fridge and put it in my backpack along with the bottle of peach schnapps my last girlfriend had left behind and the bottle of wine I’d been saving for a fancy dinner.I got popular at work giving it all away.
“Did you quit drinking?”Roger asked me.
I shrugged because I didn’t want to explain.Eddie didn’t drink, and he didn’t want to do anything with me unless I was sober, so from now on, I was always going to be sober around him.Assuming he stuck around.
I was worried he wouldn’t come back.Worried enough that I didn’t eat much dinner.I sat in front of the TV staring at whatever was on and checking the time every two minutes.
He came in at a quarter after eight.I heard the key in the door, and I felt a rush of happiness and relief.
I tried not to act like a dog that’s been left alone all day when its owner finally comes home.
He had a backpack on, and he shrugged it off at the door.
“There’s leftovers in the fridge,” I said.I’d put some aside for him when I was making dinner, in case he wanted some.
“Thanks.”
I went into the kitchen to join him.As the food was heating in the microwave, I said, “You want any help moving your things?”
“I already did,” he said.
“That’s all your stuff?In one backpack?”
“I don’t have much,” he said.Like it was normal to fit everything you owned into a backpack.
I realized I didn’t know much about him, how long he’d lived with Trish or where he was living before that or how old he was.
“Those films you acted in.Do you have them on DVDs?”
“Sure.You want to watch one?”
“Yeah.I’ve never known anybody who was in a movie.”
He got a DVD out of his backpack and handed it to me.“It’s rated NC-17.”
“Well, I’m older than seventeen, so I think I’m okay to watch it.”How sheltered did he think I was?
The movie was calledWanton Town.The DVD cover featured an overpass covered in graffiti.One of my exes had made me sit throughThe Incredible Lightness of Being.I was worriedWanton Townwould be one of those boring art films.
It wasn’t.
The movie starred a lanky guy in tight, black jeans, with dyed black and red hair and a lip ring.He was dealing and doing a lot of drugs.
For the first while, Eddie wasn’t in the movie.Then, forty minutes in, this kid sauntered onto the screen, slouched, with his hands in his pockets, seeming a lot smaller and younger than the Eddie I knew.But his presence filled the screen.That little glimmer of what I’d seen when I’d first met him was turned up to eleven here.
