“Our kids did just fine with it,” the landlord claimed, but his kids were notably not living there anymore.
The summer before Ben went to college, he’d tried arguing against his father’s stance on “the queers.”As a result, his father had taken his bedroom door off its hinges and locked it in the garage for the six weeks before the start of the fall semester.Ben knew this behavior went far beyond what most Mormons dealt with to the point of bordering on child abuse.He also knew that should he and Charlie need to share space for whatever reason, he would not be performing psychotic middle-of-the-night checks or taking away Charlie’s things.
Still, Ben couldn’t imagine inflicting such a lack of privacy on Charlie if he didn’t absolutely have to.
The last place was all the way back through Oakland again to Fremont.It cost the most of the three, and Ben nearly hadn’t sent the landlord a message about seeing it, but looking around the airy, spacious rooms, he could actually imagine living there.
Charlie hated it.
That and the cost were reason enough for Ben to decide against it.
“Guess we’ll have to keep looking,” he said as they walked to the car.
“Philtold mewe could stay forever.”
Ben choked on nothing.“What did he—how did—why?”
“He’s stupid into you, he’s the nicest person I’ve ever met,andhe said I could play hockey with him sometime.”
One thing at a time.“Hockey is a dangerous sport.Are you sure—”
“Oh myGod.”
Ben shut up.
He opened Maps on his phone, only to find Phil had texted him.The Fremont apartment must not have had any signal.Another strike against it.
Tom’s coming over for dinner.
Did that mean he wanted Ben and Charlie to stay away?Or that he would cook for all four of them?It definitely meant tonight wasn’t the night he’d ask if Ben could bite his thighs a little, or for Ben to ask exactly what Phil had meant by telling Charlie they could “stay forever.”
Either way, Ben definitely couldn’t handle pretending to be hockey coach while having dinner with Tom Crowler.
“How about we get Chipotle on our way back?”he suggested to Charlie.
The detour lasted them the time it took for a fourteen-year-old boy to eat a burrito bowl, sitting in the car in a parking lot, plus traffic.Thankfully, the line in the Chipotle had been long and the traffic heavy, and Ben pulled into the garage to the sight of Tom’s taillights heading down the driveway.Judging by the darkened downstairs windows, Phil must have gone up early.Ben hoped he hadn’t had a bad pain day.
“I’m going to bed,” Charlie announced as soon as he kicked off his shoes.He stomped off toward his room, just as taciturn and ill-tempered as he’d been all afternoon.
Ben breathed through the frustration.“Good night,” he called.No answer, only the distant slamming of a door followed by running water.What could he say to get Charlie to understand how bad it would look in court if they stayed here?Or if they moved and Charlie acted this immature about it?He didn’t want to endanger Charlie by telling the truth about his job and wanted to spare him from having to lie to Phil, but maybe he needed to know.
Upstairs, another door slammed.Ben closed his eyes and drew a hand over his forehead.He’d give Charlie the night to cool off and then talk to him about it on the morning drive to school—when Charlie couldn’t escape.
With a sigh, Ben rounded the corner of the couch and let himself fall into his spot on it.
“Am I a homophobe?”Phil’s voice came from right next to him, loud in the empty, dark, and silent living room.
Ben scrambled away from him.“Holy shit!What the fuck!”
“Sorry.”
“Why are you sitting here in the dark?”
Phil’s phone lit up.He hit an app and pressed a button, and the living room light came on, much too bright.Of course he had an app for the lights.“It was a weird dinner with Tom.Seriously, Ben.Do I seem like a homophobe to you?”
Ben stared at him.This didn’t appear to be a practical joke, but what else could it be?“You didn’t punch me when I kissed you.”
“I also kissed youback.And I haven’t totally fucked up with Charlie, have I?”
