“Was he a close friend?” I nodded. “Was he friends with your mother?”
“Yeah. He was friends with another … close friend of my mom’s,” I somewhat explained.
It was the truth. Eli was friends with her psychologist. I could assume that she was friends with her shrink just like Eli and I had been.
“Had you known him long?”
“Um, we had been friends a few years before that picture was taken.”
“I can see when the picture was posted here, but do you remember when the photo was taken?”
A week before he sold me.
“Sometime after graduation,” I admitted.
James was smart. I knew he was way ahead of me in terms of this conversation. I felt like he knew some of the answers before he even asked them.
“What’s his name, Brandon?” James asked directly.
After what seemed like a long internal battle of bouncing back and forth from deciding to tell him or not, I caved.
“Eli.”
9
James
I’d spenta week running through scenarios about who Eli had been to Brandon. And after a week of mulling things over, I still didn’t really know who Eli was. Brandon had mumbled the name ‘Eli’ during his sleep on a number of occasions. I had always thought that it was in a negative way, but during the past week of obsessively thinking, I wasn't so sure. I’d tried spending time and really thinking back to try to recall hearing Brandon say the name again.
After spending a week obsessing, my mind still wasn’t settled on the idea that this Eli character was truly a friend. Each time I told myself this, my gut told me that I was a lying bastard. But each time I told myself that there might be more to Eli, my gut encouraged me along that path.
Today when I got to the hospital, I went to my office and closed the door for a little while. Even though I really tried shaking the feeling that Eli wasn’t a creep, it didn’t sit right. I phoned Russell and needed his input and thoughts on the matter. I knew he wouldn’t bullshit me. After we got past the pleasantries, I cut to the chase.
“Do you have the Instagram app?” I asked him and was instantly met with his hearty laugh, which made me smile.
“Perhaps you’ve forgotten that I’m about your age, my friend.”
“Perhapsyou can humor me and download the app. If it’s safe, just put me on speakerphone and download it.”
“It’s safe. Ryan is swimming.”
A few moments had passed, and then he spoke up.
“Wonderful, I have a ‘welcome to Instagram’ greeting on my phone. All that’s missing now are some raging hormones and pimples,” Russell said sarcastically. “Oh, James! It’s suggesting that I find some friends or search for something. Are we going to be Instagram friends?” His approach and comments to all of this gave me a much needed laugh.
“No, I don’t have an Instagram account. But you’re one of the cool kids now,” I jabbed.
“Okay, so what am I doing on Instagram?”
“In that search box, search hashtag Brandon C Cooper. Don’t put any spaces—”
“Thank you, James. I had no idea how to input a hashtag,” Russell interrupted, causing me to laugh out loud again. “Is this your Brandon?” he asked.
“Yes, that’s my pup,” I proudly said. This was the first time Russell had seen pictures of him. “Remember, those pictures were taken over three years ago.”
“Have you had your session with this young man to welcome him to your world?”
“Brandon and I have had mini sessions, of course, that was before he ran away and before we had sex. I’ve played with him often.”
