‘Huh?’
‘When you said Matt wasn’t that different from Hammer,’ I clarify. ‘You weren’t far off the mark. Turned out Hammer was just like him, after last night, right?’
Zeke’s forehead crinkles. ‘I don’t follow you?’
I get that horrific shiver that I’ve put my foot in my mouth, like when you say Father Christmas isn’t real in front of a five-year-old.
I swirl my beer. ‘Hammer told you, right?’ I ask quickly. ‘You guys spent all night together at the hospital. He told you, right?’
Zeke flicks his phone screen off. ‘Told me what?’
Shit. You dickhead, Charlie.
‘Uh – you know why he was there, right?’
‘Not exactly,’ Zeke admits. ‘You said you called him or something, but – why? What happened between you guys? Why did he come down to the hospital?’
Argh. No avoiding it now. And he deserves to know.
I tell Zeke that Hammer found him at the house and called the ambulance – and that he was at the house desperate for Zeke’s help because he was suicidal.
‘You should have told me this!’ Zeke snaps. ‘I was so confused by Hammer being there. Now I feel horrible. I didn’t say anything to him about it. It feels like you guys were keeping me out of the loop.’
‘Well, if he didn’t tell you, maybe he didn’t want to talk about it anymore,’ I point out. ‘But you were right. I was nicer to Matt than I was to Hammer, but they were tortured by the same shit. I shoulda been less of a dick to a fellow homo.’
Zeke immediately fires off a DM to Hammer.
‘What did you say to him?’ I prod.
‘Not telling,’ Zeke says. ‘See, I can keep things secret, too.’
‘Passive-aggressive is an ugly colour on you, Calogero.’
‘I told him I wanna see him after his game.’
‘The fuck are you gonna do if he says yes?’
‘Cross that bridge when I come to it. Did you text Mason or not?’
Ah, shit.
‘You made a good argument,’ I say bracingly. ‘I’m convinced. Texting Mason is the right call. I just need to build up to it.’
‘Chicken.’
‘Yes, Zekey boy, I am a big chicken,’ I say. ‘If Mason leaves me on read or tells me to piss off, that’s gonna add a layer of crap to an already crap day.’
‘Fair. I just think you deserve to be happy. Mason made you happy.’
‘You think so?’
‘I could tell, man. You lit up all around the house. You’re usually moody, you know. But once you started seeing Mason you had a spring in your step.’
‘I really like him,’ I tell my car’s wing mirror. ‘In a way that feels like it could wreck me.’
‘Text him, chickenshit.’
‘Fucksakes!’ I snap. ‘Okay! Fine!’
