Chapter Seven
Mars
By the time I said goodbye to Clark and headed back toward the apartment, it was early evening. The time with him had just flown by in a way I didn’t expect. I’d always loved the chase of a guy who was hard to get and the thrill of flirting with geeky guys until they melted into a puddle. With Clark, though, the connection felt stronger than that. He claimed to have a happy life, but the way he talked about science fiction and the way he nodded when I talked about my own teenage years and challenges made me feel like he understood me in a way I couldn’t quite place.
Add to that the sexy way he blushed behind his glasses and the fact that he had no idea how damn handsome he was, and I barely even noticed the afternoon pass.
By the time I got back to the apartment, I was ready to crash on the couch with Rip and watch some crappy TV. I might even luck out and get a backrub from him. But somehow, the second I pulled in the driveway, I had a strong sense that something was wrong.
I headed toward the staircase on the side of the house, then noticed a flash of movement on the first floor and the outline of Rip’s shadow in the window. Turning on my heel, I headed in the front instead.
“Rip?” I said, stepping into the house. “Grace? You around?”
I stopped in the doorway, and my heart leapt to my throat. All the stacks of paper and knickknacks from the bookshelf were thrown across the floor, and there was broken glass across the small dining table near the kitchen. Immediately, I darted my eyes in both directions, and my instincts from living on the street kicked in. My muscles tightened, and I bounced up onto the balls of my feet, ready to throw a punch.
“Mars,” Rip said, stepping around the corner. “There you are.”
His face was stern, and his eyebrows were set in a furrow.
“What happened?” I asked, rushing forward to him. “Is Grace okay?”
“She’s fine,” he said quickly, holding his hand in the air to stop me in my tracks. “She was just able to lay down.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I tried to call you…”
“My phone died,” I said quickly. “I forgot to charge it this morning.”
Rip shook his head and kept his eyes trained to the ground. “I guess you forgot a couple of things this morning,” he grumbled.
“What does that mean?” I asked. “Rip, what the hell happened here?”
“You left a pan on the stove upstairs,” he said. “There wasn’t a fire, thank god, but it filled the apartment with smoke. First the alarms went off, then the police showed up with their sirens blaring…” He rubbed his hand across his beard, and I noticed how tense his shoulders were. “Grace was the only one home.”
“Oh shit,” I said and rested my hand on the top of the kitchen chair. “She panicked?”
Rip gestured to the mess in the apartment. “I’d say so.”
“Fuck, Rip,” I said. “I’m so sorry. I was running late like always, you know.” I gritted my teeth together, and hot shame tingled across my skin. “I can’t believe I did that. Fuck, man!”
“It’s whatever,” Rip said, his voice tense and cold. “I get it. This kind of thing happens. And you get distracted. You’ve just got to be a little more careful while we’re living above Grace. I can handle the chaos, but you know it takes a toll on her.”
He’d only ever been mad at me like that a few times before. Back during those first weeks we spent together on the street, he’d gotten really pissed at me when I turned my back on some other gay kid in order to pull an extra job with one of the straight assholes who ran the scene. I’ll never forget the way he yelled at me, saying that we had to look out for each other, or else no one would. It’s what had made me realize I wanted to stick around him, actually. I needed someone strong like Rip in my life, and he knew it.
I’d screwed up big a couple other times over the years, blowing our rent money once and driving my truck when I was wasted a few times, too. Every time stung, and every argument stayed with me, same as if it happened yesterday.
Rip just accepted so many parts of me that other people didn’t, and he put up with so much of my bullshit. It made me feel like a real scumbag when I let him down.
“I understand,” I said. “And really, I’m sorry, Rip. I’ll be careful from now on.” I wanted to throw my arms around him but could tell from his body language that it wasn’t the time. “Let me help clean this up,” I said. “It’s the least I can do.”
Rip ran his hand over his beard one more time, then nodded. “You want to take care of this glass? When the lights were flashing outside, Aunt Grace accidentally knocked some things over. I can take care of the stuff from the bookshelf.”
“Sure,” I said. “No problem.”
Rip paused, then finally took a step closer to me. When he closed the distance between us, the guilt and anxiety started to fade. I pressed my forehead against his, just like we always did. Instead of staying there, though, he pulled himself away and turned toward the mess in the living room.
“How was your date?” he asked. “I figured you were buried deep inside the guy when you didn’t answer your phone.”
“Not quite,” I said. “But we had a good time. He’s nervous. He hasn’t dated much.”
Rip dropped to a squat and began to gather the scattered papers into a pile. “Jumping into the deep end with you, isn’t he?”
