Bowie’s heart rate rocketed upwards. “What? Who?”
Was he outside again? Sitting in his town car? Just waiting for Bowie to leave so he could drive slowly alongside him, saying nothing…just watching?
Odette looked at him like he was crazy. “Your sexy ex-convict? When I was walking in this morning, there was this, like, hot criminal guy outside the school. Shady? Sexy? Throat tattoo. Was that him? Joaquin?”
“Javier,” Bowie muttered.
“Whatever,” she said, gesturing with her spoon. “I can see the appeal. He’s hot in that grungy bathroom stall hookup kind of way.”
Bowie rolled his eyes at her casual dismissal before really considering her words. “Wait, when did you see him?”
Odette shrugged. “I don’t know, whenever I got here. Like, seven fifteen.”
Bowie’s already pounding heart tripped behind his ribcage. Javier had waited until others arrived. He’d wanted to make sure he wasn’t alone in the building. He couldn’t stop the smile starting to drift across his face. “Maybe?”
“Maybe?” Odette asked. “What do you mean, maybe? Was it him or wasn’t it?”
Bowie could feel himself flushing. “I don’t know. There are a lot of people in LA. Especially with ink. How am I supposed to know if that was him? I was already inside working. Remember?”
Odette took another bite of her snack, crunching thoughtfully as she examined him. “Why are you being so weird about this? Do you like him? Like, are you two a thing or something? Did you hook up with child advocate gangbanger guy?”
Bowie’s mind reeled as he tried to keep up with Odette’s rapid-fire stream of consciousness. Was he being weird about it? Probably. Javier was his. This one light in a sea of darkness. He didn’t want to share it with Odette or with anybody, really. He already felt exposed to the world on a level he’d never imagined.
Besides, he and Javier didn’t even know each other. They’d had exactly three conversations. That didn’t make him or them a thing. It was just something new, a distraction, a way to focus on anything except his new normal.
“Being weird about what? I barely know the guy. He gave me his business card. He walked me to work. It wasn’t a thing. But if you want to talk about being weird, why did you sleep on the couch last night?”
Odette’s face fell, her gaze sliding away from him. “I just fell asleep watching tv.”
Liar.“You took your pillow and blanket,” Bowie said, voice tight.
Odette sighed. “Fine. You were asleep when I got home. I took a shower like usual, but when I went to go to bed, you were crying. At first, I thought you were awake, but when I got closer to your bed, I realized you were asleep. I tried to shake you awake, but you started talking…”
“Talking?” Bowie managed, feeling light-headed.
Odette flushed pink to the tips of her ears. “Yeah, you were saying things, like you were…being hurt in your sleep. I didn’t know what to do.I couldn’t wake you, didn’t even know if Ishouldwake you, so I just went and slept on the couch.”
Bowie’s few bites of salad started to rebel, climbing their way back up his esophagus. Tears pricked the back of his eyes. Part of him wanted to demand to know what he’d said in his sleep, but the other part was sick over what her answer would be.
He was going to puke. He lurched away from the table, his chair clattering to the floor. All eyes cut to the commotion, widening when they realized the cause was Bowie.
Great. Once more, he was the center of attention, only this time it was nobody’s fault but his. He couldn’t handle this. He just couldn’t. He bolted, almost barreling into his other two roommates, Alice and Anna, as he headed towards the glass door of the break room.
“What’s his problem?” he heard Alice ask, but he didn’t stop.
All eyes were on him as he moved through the building. Maybe it was his hurried pace, maybe he looked like he was being chased. He was. Chased by his own fucking demons. He just wanted to fall apart in private. But he had to get away from other people, away from their prying gazes. He’d already given them enough free entertainment. He hurried to the hallway on the far side of the building, finding the props closet with the broken lock, the one everybody used for quickies and nervous breakdowns, praying it was empty.
It was.
Once inside, he pulled his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them, pulling himself into a tight ball and just letting himself wallow. This wasn’t fair. He hadn’t done anything to deserve this. He’d never been a saint, maybe a little self-centered even, but he’d been a good person.
Logically, he knew bad things happened to good people all the time, probably way more than they happened to the bad people, but it still didn’t seem right. How did other people handle this? How did he move on with his life when everything just kept dragging him back to the night of his attack?
He couldn’t deal with this place or those people, the ones he’d thought of as his friends just a few days ago. He freed his phone from the pocket of his hoodie, pulling up his text messages.Still rescuing kittens?
There was a good chance Javier wouldn’t answer. He had work, a life that had nothing to do with Bowie. He was a virtual stranger. He’d already taken up so much of his time. But, almost instantly, his phone vibrated in his hand.Just finished.
Bowie swallowed, throat clicking audibly.Can you come get me? I need to get out of here.
