49
Simon
Misery. Simon wilted over the couch, his cell phone on his chest. Harlow had sent him a text an hour or two ago to let him know that they’d arrived home safe, but Simon hadn’t replied. He didn’t know what to say. If he tried to act like everything was fine, Harlow would think he didn’t care, but if he was honest and let Harlow know that he was falling apart at the seams, he’d cause unnecessary pain. Torn by indecision, silence won. More words never spoken, more missed opportunity.
In the other room, Parker laughed—Shep had been doing an excellent job of keeping him engaged all day, and while Simon had been hesitant to let him stay home from school, he found himself glad for his assistance. Most days, Parker’s laughter was enough to make Simon smile, but today, not even his nephew’s innocent joy could reach him. Feeling more and more like a lump, Simon rolled onto his side. His phone slid from his chest onto the couch cushion. He left it where it landed. When he figured out to do about his reply, he’d bother with it—until then, it was a source of anxiety he could do without.
As Simon lamented his sorry state, the latch on the front door clicked. The knob turned. The door opened, then closed. Jayne announced his presence with a loud yawn, then rounded the corner into the living room—Simon followed his progress by tracking the sound of his steps.
“Simon,” Jayne said, an eyebrow raised. “You’re still here.”
Simon rolled deliberately onto his back and looked at Jayne with dead eyes. “Yes.”
“Don’t look at me like that—there was a chance you’d change your mind and take off to Los Angeles.”
“No.” Was Jayne being thoughtless on purpose? Simon pushed his lips together, holding back a fresh wave of tears. “We went over this, Jayne. I need to stay here for you and Shep. We’re family. Who else is going to look out for you?”
“Oh.” Jayne paused. “Well, yeah. That’s true. But… it’s been a long time that you’ve been taking care of us. Don’t you think it’s about time that we started taking care of you, too?”
Simon wasn’t in the right mood to deal with Jayne’s antics. He sat up, then regretted it—blood rushed from his head and left him dizzy. Irritation struck like lightning on pavement, its destructive forces cracking Simon’s composure into splintered, singed fragments. When he spoke, his voice sparked. “Jayne, can younotright now? I know you mean well, but I did what I had to do, and I don’t need you poking fun at me because of it. Right now I need some time alone.”
“Nah, you don’t.” Jayne sat on the arm of the couch, swinging his legs around so his feet rested on the cushion. He’d taken his shoes off at the door. With great ceremony, he removed his cell phone from his back pocket. Simon wished he would go away. As soon as he didn’t feel like a withered husk of human being, he was going to migrate to his bedroom and install a lock on his door no matter what fucking Fulch thought. “So, here’s the thing… the vote was kind of divided. Three of us thought you would stay, and two of us thought you would go, so—”
“What?” Simon narrowed his eyes. His head throbbed. “Who are you talking about?”
“Me and Harlow’s friends.” Jayne tilted his cell phone back and forth as if doing so would enlighten Simon as to what he meant. “He doesn’t know I’ve been talking to them, of course. There’s this really handy private group chat feature, so I just have all of them inside the same private chat, and we’ve been talking about you guys—placing bets on what would happen today.” Jayne looked particularly proud of himself and bragged, “Fucking TD owes me five dollars. It’s like taking candy from a baby.”
“Wait…” Sense started to break through Simon’s confusion. “What?”
“Do you remember those friends you were too shy to meet?” Jayne asked. “Well, anyway… they’re really good friends. Not in like, a creepy orgy way or anything—just good guys. And when I told them what was going on, they got worried for you. For both of you.”
Simon’s heart stopped. He stared at Jayne, unable to speak.
Harlow’s friends cared about him?
“So, one of the guys, Knot—he’s kind of like Harley’s unofficial best friend, from what I’ve gathered—got all the guys together, including me, and we had a discussion about what was holding you back from going, if you decided not to go.”
Silence. Simon opened his mouth, then shook his head and closed it again.
“I’m boring you. Sorry. You don’t care who these people are, so let me cut to the chase.” Jayne cleared his throat. “As it turns out, all your boyfriend’s ‘BFFs,’ as Evie would call them, are really committed to making sure that Harley is happy. They’re like this little found family, and it’s really stinking cute. So, anyway, here’s the deal: we’re sending you to LA.”
“What?”
“Crazy, right?” Jayne grinned. He smoothed a hand through his hair, eyes alight with mischief. “Three of the guys from the chat live in Aurora, and they’ve agreed to step in and help me take care of Parker during the week while I get my life together. Knot, who lives in New York and can’t help with childcare, is paying for your flight—first class, private lounge, platinum card type deal. All he says is that when Harlow turns into sea foam, he’s going to piss on him extra hard with his huge horse dick… don’t ask—not even I wanted to touch that one.” Jayne snorted and rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I already talked to Shep about it earlier today, while I was on break at work, and he said that he’s fine with you leaving. Something about getting to visit and Evie being his wingman, or something? I don’t know. Those kids are weird, and I’m not going to pretend I understand them. But there you have it.”
Simon gaped at Jayne. Jayne checked his phone.
“Oh, Knot just bought you the ticket. Your flight leaves in… seventeen hours. I’d start packing my bags, if I were you.”
“Jayne?” There was a chance that it was all a cruel joke, and in a few seconds, Jayne would slap his knee and grin at Simon with his teeth and crush his dreams to dust. But there was also a chance that he wasn’t joking—that a future Simon couldn’t have imagined had opened up before him. Simon’s head throbbed as it attempted to make sense of what it had heard, but the pain didn’t bite anymore. “You’re… you’re being serious?”
“There’s the Simon I know.” Jayne winked. “You know, contrary to popular belief, I’m not a selfish bitch all the time. I care about you, Simon. I want to see you happy. You’ve done so much for me and Shep… it’s time we did something for you, too.”
It wasn’t a joke.
Itwasn’ta joke.
Simon vaulted up from where he was sitting and latched his arms around Jayne’s neck. Jayne gasped, and they fell together backward onto the couch. Jayne grumbled and struggled, but, like a grumpy cat clutched tight to a child’s chest, eventually settled and accepted his fate. He hugged Simon back.
