“He’s doing better. And actually I’m back ’cause I helped him move to a facility that’s not far from here. He promised he would start telling everyone the truth and asking for the support he needs to get better. He wanted to move here for me, saying I needed support too. And he’s not wrong.”
Bas pulled away. “Really? That’s great. I know how worried you’ve been.”
“He’ll come around soon. He has apologies to make.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. They don’t call me a queen just because I’m a diva. Tell him he’s been royally pardoned and to just get better. I understand.” Bas turned to grab a painter’s tray and brush. He didn’t know why thinking about Dane bothered him so much. Probably because they could have connected, given time. They’d both been down rough paths and survived. Well, Bas had. Dane was still fighting to survive. Maybe now that the guy realized how much he needed his friends, who also neededtheirfriends, he could work on recovering instead of just existing.
“Hi,” Tommy said, offering his hand to Marissa. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Tommy.”
“Marissa,” she replied as she took Tommy’s offered hand. Bas knew the look on her face as he’d had it himself when he first met Tommy. He was every bit the idol most celebrities ought to be.
“I have to say it’s great to have a girl around for a change,” Tommy commented. “I’ve always got these boys drooling over me. Seeing your pretty face is a nice change from looking at their ugly mugs.”
“As if!” Ru protested.
“Keep your pecker in your pants, straight boy. She’s not legal for you. Besides, who you calling ugly? Do you have any idea of the beauty routine needed to keep this face so lovely?” Bas motioned to his skin, then cracked open the paint. Time to get rid of the puke green that decorated this room. “That’s what you get for being the oldest in the bunch: no love and dry skin.”
Tommy put his hand to his chest in mock wounded fashion.
“Are you saying I’m old? I’m not even twenty-one yet. And here I thought your love for me transcended everything, including my advanced age and apparently lizard skin.”
Everyone laughed. Bas felt a lot lighter as everyone picked up a brush and began to paint. He would never have thought a year ago that he’d be in this spot: laughing, happy, surrounded by friends in a house that was his. The day he’d dropped so low as to try to take his own life seemed so long ago. And he was a different person now. He glanced over at Adam. Thank God for small favors and unassuming best friends.
They painted through the day, stopping for lunch briefly, but finished five rooms with two coats of paint each. Bas had cracked a window in each one—even though the temps were barely above freezing—just to air out the stench of paint.
Tommy flirted with Marissa the whole time. Adam and Ru teased each other playfully, and though Bas was lonely, it was okay. His friends were there, caring for him, making him laugh, and including him in their play. He teased Tommy, who playfully returned his banter without any irritation.
Ru and Adam talked about the prom.
“I can’t wait to dance with you where everyone can see,” Ru told Adam.
“Wear hard shoes. ’Cause I’m going to be stepping all over your feet,” Adam replied.
Ru swept him into a slow-dance sway.
“You do this one just fine.”
“What are you guys going as, since we’re doing a twenties theme?” Marissa asked. She had already admitted to being on the prom committee.
“We’re working on that.”
The doorbell rang in the distance as they were starting on another room.
“Be right back, all. No paint fights. No one wants to clean that up, and by ‘no one’ I mean all of you,” Bas singsonged at them as he headed for the door. He hoped it wasn’t someone else to help paint. He was running out of brushes.
It was a very stiff-looking man in a suit.
“Sebastian Axelrod?” the man asked.
“Yes?”
The man held out a large envelope of papers.
“You’ve been served,” the man said, then turned and walked back to his car.
Bas closed the door, leaned against it, and pulled the papers free to review them. After a moment he let out a long sigh.
Adam appeared in the living room to ask, “Everything okay? Who was it?”
