“Morning! Oscar, right?” Yep. This guy seemed like the exact type of almond-chewing, protein-shake drinking, 5am-run-going perky athlete who might get along with wannabe policeman Ryan.
“Yeah.” Oscar tugged on a thick strand of hair, looking for a door that might indicate the presence of a toilet. It wasn’t a maze. This apartment was even smaller than his own. It was a wonder three people could live here.
“Bathroom’s there.” Joe jerked his head at a door adjacent to Aaron’s. “And I’m making some lunch. Sandwiches. Want one?”
“Uh, sure.”
Well, at least he atecarbs.
Oscar lingered awkwardly a second longer, then passed through the door and shut it, praying to whichever god might exist that he didn’t fart while peeing, with Joe standing so close in the kitchen.
Oscar didn’t, and he was relieved, but being so self-conscious about Joe’s proximity also meant that Joe would instantly know Oscar was done when he flushed, and if he took his time, then Joe would think Oscar was taking a dump, and Oscar didn’t want that either.
He glanced at the selection of items on the sink, hoping his morning breath wasn’t as bad as he imagined, because he could in no universe imagine using a toothbrush that had already been in someone else’s mouth, and settled for a hand-cupped serving of tap water. He ran his hand through his hair, calming the frazzled strands and hoping he seemed at leastpresentable. It would have been nice if the woman were around, too; might have eased him a little. She seemed nice.
Oscar glanced down at himself, only now realizing he was still wearing Aaron’s clothes, his own slung over the chair at Aaron’s desk, but it would be rude to go in and change after Joe had offered to make lunch, so he determined to try not to care too much and headed out to the living room.
“I hope you eat everything. I didn’t ask.” Joe stretched his mouth into ayikesexpression that felt miles and miles away from Ryan. “You good with, like, mayo and cheese and butter?”
“You good with me potentially using your toilet after?”
Oscar wanted to bite his tongue off and slip it between the halves of bread Joe had so neatly put together on a waiting plate. So much for holding in that fart. There were even potato chips on the side, crispy and salty—the cheap kind Oscar liked to get from Paulie.
They took him back to quiet beach mornings with Papa and Lina, the long drive away from home to go swimming when it was still early, the potato chips and ice cream, the long drive back, soft pop ballads playing through the speakers, Papa raspily singing off-key.
Joe laughed, eyes narrowing on his handsome face. He didn’t have a hint of stubble on his chin, as clean-shaven as a military officer. Maybe he was one. He had the frame for it.
“Come on, I’m starving.”
The chair cushion made a squishy noise as Joe dropped to sit, wrapping his hands around the fat sandwich he’d prepared. Oscar’s seemed identical, filled with thick slices of ham and cheese, crispy lettuce, and what looked like beautifully marinated tomato slices. The baguette was toasted and crispy, butter and mayo softening the middle. His stomach was growling by the time he sat.
“I hope we didn’t keep you up with the TV last night,”Joe said in between bites. “We were supposed to go to bed early because Anna had to get up for work, but we ended up watching another movie after. We’re awful.” His laugh was warm, drizzling into Oscar like the olive oil on Joe’s tomatoes. It didn’t make him sound awful at all.
I couldn’t hear you over my thumping heart, Oscar would have said if this were Lucas. But it wasn’t, so he shook his head and took another bite of the delicious sandwich.
“It’s really nice to see Aaron hanging out with someone real,” Joe said.
“Does he normally bring over people the rest of you can’t see?” Oscar arched an eyebrow, allowing his expression to drop as Joe’s face contorted into a panicked expression. “Sorry. I’m rarely ever serious.”
“Oh.” Joe sighed in relief, laughing again.
Oscar would have liked to be the kind of person who laughed all the time. Grandpa had been like that. And Papa had tried, even though he’d had to live with Oscar’s mother and Oscar with her.
“He does have friends and stuff, of course, but they all live out of town…anyway…”
“It’s fine. I’m not spying on him.” Oscar narrowed his eyes. “But it’s good you look out for him.”
“We haven’t known each other long, but he’s really grown on us. Honestly, it’s really easy to love that guy, isn’t it?”
Joe flashed Oscar a face-splitting grin. There was pepper stuck between his teeth and Oscar thought it was a little adorable, even if pepper in teeth would always break his heart. He didn’t want to think about that now.
“So what do you do, Oscar? You’re twenty, Aaron said. Student or do you work?”
“Bit of both.” Oscar popped a potato chip into his mouth and reached for the soda Joe had poured him. “I’m doing Computer Science, but I also beta test games part-time. It’srecent. My professor scored me the gig this summer. Couldn’t exactly do much physical labor.”
“Right, of course! The surgery.”
Joe nodded, as though it was obvious Oscar had removed a part of his body, as though the trans flag had been painted onto his forehead. Oscar shuttered, chewing on his baguette, eyes on everything except Joe.
