“No one put me up to anything. I asked because you seem worn out.”
“I’m fine. Just need sleep,” Jasper muttered. And for everyone to stay out of his business.
“All right.” He felt Keith’s eyes on him, and a few moments later he asked, “Thought any more about getting your driver’s license?”
He squeezed his eyes shut with a soft groan. “I’ll take care of it after I save enough money to afford the EMT course.” He didn’t have the money for the classes or tests right now, and he hoped his plans to take them next year weren’t too ambitious. He’d have to pick up more than a few extra shifts to pay for the course and textbooks.
“You know we don’t mind taking care of the driver’s ed classes for you.”
“It’s fine,” he said, managing not to snap. “You guys have done enough.” No way was he letting them pay for his license on top of everything else. He wouldn’t follow in his brother’s footsteps—couch surfing, drugs, and planting the seeds for stage-three lung cancer by the age of thirty. Not a chance in hell. He’d make his own way, and he wouldn’t rely on others for every damn thing.
Keith sighed with a soft “All right,” and thankfully let it drop.
Once they were home, Jasper grabbed his bag and trudged up the stairs for a quick shower, then settled in to work on his assignments. Amber brought a plate of food up a bit later and set it on his desk. “Thanks,” he murmured, glancing up when she leaned against the wall.
“Spill,” she said.
Jasper sighed and turned back to his assigned reading on drug administration. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
“Uh-huh.”
His fingers twitched, and he curled them tight in his hair to keep from saying anything he’d regret. “Thanks for dinner. I have a lot of homework to do,” he said, staring at his textbook without really seeing it. He ignored Amber until she sighed and left, then eyed the plate of chicken and veggies. The chicken was unseasoned, and the broccoli was undercooked. No doubt it was Matt’s night to cook—his food was as insipid as his personality.
He managed to choke down two bites before his phone rang.
The sight of Vincent’s name on the screen immediately made his day better. “Hello, Sir.”
“Pet,” Vincent replied, and that one word somehow popped the bubble of the dark mood he’d been trapped in since that morning. “What are you up to?”
Jasper eyed his plate with a soft snort. “Eating disappointing food.”
“Oh?”
“Matt can’t cook for shit.”
“Some things never change,” Vincent said with a soft laugh.
Right. He’d almost forgotten they all knew each other. Vincent had probably eaten Matt’s food loads of times. He realized he’d never asked if they’d been together, and he really didn’t want the answer.
“Sounds like that’s the highlight of your day.”
He snorted quietly. “Yeah, the rotting cherry on a shit sundae,” he muttered, then winced. Vincent didn’t want or need to hear about his horrible day. He opened his mouth to say he needed to finish studying so he didn’t shove his foot any farther into his mouth, but Vincent spoke first.
“What happened?”
Jasper snapped his mouth shut, but not before a quiet strangled sound escaped his throat. It was on the tip of his tongue to say, “Nothing,” but that would obviously be a lie.
As if sensing that intention, Vincent said, “Talk to me.” It wasn’t a request.
He let out an explosive breath, and then he spilled everything. From the test he hadn’t properly studied for, to the clusterfuck at work, to the others hounding him about his driver’s license. Not to mention the general sense of feeling utterly useless that’d been plaguing him all day.
When he finished, he slumped in his chair, somehow feeling even more drained than earlier.
There were a few moments of silence, and then Vincent asked, “Should I come over?”
Jasper blinked at the wall, sure he’d heard that wrong. “What?”
“Do you need me to come over?”
