Determination (45 page)

Twenty-Five

THE next two weeks were brutal for us. Drake had disappeared, and Brian spent all his time obsessing about how his life would change if he contracted HIV, while I spent all my time obsessing about the hearing and what would happen if the judge decided probation wasn’t enough.

Between that and everything else in our lives, Brian and I were almost unbearable to live with. My dad had taken to working late in the evenings so he didn’t have to hang around with us while we sat at opposite ends of the couch and watched the television with blank, staring eyes.

I did the very basics of my homework and turned it in, but knew the efforts weren’t my best. Kate and Greg tried to get me to talk to them about what was wrong, but they didn’t know anything about the drugs or the arrest, and I couldn’t find the balls to tell them. Brian and I were drifting through life, but at least we were drifting together.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop would have been so much worse if we’d been going through it alone.

Mike and Alex tried to get us to go out with them, but neither of us felt like partying. We spent a lot of time cuddled together in the huge queen-size bed that barely fit in my room. Brian even started keeping clothes in my closet and doing his laundry at our house. Somewhere over the last week, he’d practically moved in. My dad didn’t say anything, probably because he saw how badly we needed each other right then. The only thing in my life that didn’t suffer from the depression that seemed to settle over us like a fog was my rehab. I went to every meeting, talked to Christian, and kept reading the books he Determination

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gave me when I could. In fact, I had to admit I’d really liked reading about the fourth chakra, or the heart chakra. It made me believe that maybe, if I could get everything centered and in line, Brian and I could be okay.

“Where’s Brian?” my dad asked as I stood in the kitchen making dinner. Somewhere over the last couple of weeks, I’d started cooking for three instead of two. The roast I’d put in the slow cooker earlier would be enough for Italian beef sandwiches for all of us for dinner and maybe lunch the next day, though Brian and I hadn’t been eating much of anything lately. I only cooked to feed my dad. He’d done so much; it was the least I could do.

“He’s upstairs asleep, finally. He spends most nights just pacing,”

I said as I cut up some of the peppers to add to the sandwiches.

Everything was ready, but the menial task would keep me busy for a few minutes, at least. “I finally slipped a Benadryl into his soda.”

“You drugged him?” my dad asked, half-incredulous, half-amused.

“I didn’t drug him. I just… he needs to sleep.”

“How about you? Are you sleeping?” he asked, and his voice sounded serious again.

“Yes, I’ve been taking the meds that they gave me when I first came home. It’s helping. It’s different if I don’t sleep. The last thing anyone needs is more stress from my seizures.”

“Jamie, Darren explained that you’re just going to get probation, right? What has you so wound up?” he asked and sat down on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. It seemed we were about to have a conversation. I did owe it to him. I’d spent pretty much every minute of the last two weeks with Brian. My dad deserved some one-on-one time.

“He said that the judge could decide not to go with the recommendation and sentence me to something else. Plus, once we go through that hearing, I’ll be a convict, Dad. I will have been convicted of a crime and serving my sentence. Who is going to hire me after that?

What’s the point to going to school if I won’t be able to get a job because I was convicted for drugs?” My words came out in a confused 296

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tumble, and I dragged a stool to the kitchen side of the bar and sat down across from him.

“Your questions are valid, son. I don’t know what’s going to happen when you try to get a job. I can tell you that we do background checks and criminal record checks, so it is going to come up. You’ll deal with it when it does, just like you deal with anything else. As to the judge, the district attorney would have no bargaining power if the courts discounted their recommendations. You’ve made an agreement and you’ve signed it. They aren’t going to back out of it—they’d lose credibility in future negotiations. If you’d killed someone, maybe, but not just for a first-time drug offense,” he said, and I felt my stomach lurch.

“I’m going to check on Brian,” I choked and practically fell off the barstool in my haste to get out of the room. If the court, or anyone else, found out I had actually killed someone, then all deals were off, with them and probably with my father. He’d pull all his help, and I’d go to prison forever.

Not even bothering to take off my jeans, I curled up next to Brian and wrapped myself in his warm comfort. He sighed quietly in his sleep and pulled my arm tighter around him, probably looking for the same feeling.

We stayed in bed for about another hour before the smell of fennel seed and au jus pulled us from sleep. The sandwiches smelled phenomenal, and I hadn’t eaten since the day before. It took me a few minutes to convince Brian he was more hungry than horny as he continued to grind against my fully clothed ass. With the promise of a long, lazy night of sex later, he finally rolled over and sat up on the side of the bed. I grabbed his jeans and tossed them to him. His phone slid out and bounced on the floor as he straightened the denim in order to put them back on. I went into the bathroom to wash my face, followed closely by Brian.

“Hey, look at this,” he said as he came up behind me and wrapped an arm around my waist. He held his phone up so I could read it.

[Nick]
Seen Cock and Bull today? Check the comments.

Determination

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“Oh Christ, what has he dug up now?” I asked as I rolled my eyes at Brian in the mirror. “It’s got to be about me. You haven’t done anything lately. Oh damn, unless someone spilled about the condom thing?” I turned and strode into my room, the thought of food gone.

Guys’ careers got ruined because of shit like that.

“Here it is,” Brian said as he handed me my laptop. I flipped the lid open and powered it up. Brian’s knee was bouncing as he sat on the bed next to me. I rested a hand on his leg.

“Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it, babe,” I said and kissed him lightly on the cheek. He set his hand on mine and squeezed. My hands were shaking so much, it took me two tries to log in. I could tell Brian was trying to be patient but at the same time wanted to take it away from me and do it himself. I clicked the bookmark for
Cock and Bull
and checked the list of recent blog entries. Sure enough, there was one about an HIV scare.

“Damn,” Brian muttered as I clicked on the link.

“An industry insider has confirmed that Drake Compton, bodybuilder and part-time porn model, has tested positive for HIV,” I read aloud, a catch in my voice.

“Oh crap,” Brian breathed.

“A call to Compton wasn’t immediately returned, but his agent, Kevin Sanders of Blue Spots Entertainment, tells us that he hasn’t shot any scenes in the last six months, so an industry scandal isn’t likely.”

“Why would he say that? Nick worked with him to get the guy in with us. I don’t understand,” Brian said furiously. “I mean, I appreciate that they didn’t bring me into it, but why?”

“Nick said look at the comments,” I said, ignoring the rest of the post to get to the dozens of responses at the bottom. One in particular caught my attention, as it was all capitalized.

[DRAKECOLLINSXXX]
I DON’T HAVE HIV. IT’S A CROCK

OF SHIT. AS SOON AS I GET TO A SCANNER I’LL POST MY

GODDAMN RESULTS. THE TEST IS LESS THAN A MONTH OLD.

WHOEVER TOLD YOU THAT IS A GODDAMN LIAR!!!

“Damn, he doesn’t look pleased,” I commented and looked over at Brian, who was already typing on his phone. “Who are you texting?”

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Jamie Mayfield

“Nick,” he said as he typed, “to say thank you.” It made perfect sense. Nick was one of the most powerful producers for one of the biggest studios in the industry. Of course that guy over at
Cock and
Bull
would take anything he said as gospel, and one call to Drake’s agent threatening not to use his models because of an HIV scare would shut him up about shooting with Brian. Forcing Drake’s hand, he had no option but to post his test results for the world, and Brian, to see. If Drake was negative, he couldn’t have given anything to Brian.

“You still need to get tested,” I said quietly, and Brian nodded.

“And I really don’t want you to shoot anymore.” Turning toward him, I put my head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around me. “I know that you’re careful, but you have other models. I’m not asking you to get out of the industry, just stop shooting scenes. Please?”

Brian stayed quiet for a long time, holding me close against him.

“Okay,” he said finally. “I’ll talk to Nick tomorrow.” I couldn’t tell if his posture looked more defeated or relieved. In my heart, I really hoped it was relieved because I didn’t want him to resent me for making him stop shooting.

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. It’s something that you want, and I don’t really want to do it anymore. I want to produce and stay behind the camera.

I’m sick of covering up the scar because it just keeps reminding me that my body isn’t…. Anyway, you’ve just given me an out.” Brian pressed his forehead against mine, and I closed my eyes, loving the feeling of his arms around me. After a few minutes, his stomach rumbled.

“Let’s go get some food, and then I have plans for you, Brian.”

I FOUND myself thinking more and more about the conversation I’d had with my father in the kitchen.
It’s not like you killed someone….

The phrase repeated itself in my head whenever I couldn’t find something to distract me from it. Sometimes it kept me awake, especially when Brian stayed at his place. Frequently, I wondered what my father would do when he found out. I could stay at the boardinghouse with Brian and the other guys, and I had my college Determination

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fund but had no idea how I could hold down a job with uncontrolled seizures, or how I’d finish college if I had to live off my college fund.

On Saturday afternoon, I couldn’t stand it anymore and asked my dad to drop me off at the boardinghouse. Mike had gone up to San Francisco for a shoot, so Alex invited me for the weekend to hang out with him and Brian. Brian offered to come and get me, but Dad and I were going to a meeting anyway, so he said he’d drop me off with Brian afterward. When we walked into the meeting, Christian greeted us immediately. I handed him the chakra book I’d finished, and he gave me a one-armed hug.

“How are you, Jay?”

“I’ve been better,” I mumbled. He knew about the arrest, but I explained about the anxiety and sleepless nights.

“I was on the wrong side of those negotiations a few times before I got clean. They never changed the terms of any deal, and I did my time and went on my way. Some people will give you shit for it when you try to get a job, but if you stay clean and show you’re some kind of upstanding citizen, eventually it will get better.” Coming from Christian, it seemed to comfort me a little more than coming from Dad.

I loved my father, but he’d always been a winner—he didn’t know anything about being a loser.

“Thanks, man.”

“No problem. Did you finish the book? I see you picked up a chakra pendant. Does it help?” he asked as he motioned to the full seven-stone pendant around my neck. I had taken to wearing it a few weeks ago to see if it would do more for me than the single stone.

“Yes, I finished the book, and I haven’t felt any kind of magical alignment. I’m just as scared as I was when I got out of rehab,” I sighed and wrapped my hand around the pendant. I didn’t know if I intended to break the chain or just grab it, but Christian’s next question stopped me short.

“Are you? You don’t seem as scared as you were when you got
out
of rehab.”

I stared at him and thought about it for a long time as the room began to fill. When my father had shown up in my hospital room, I had been terrified. Homeless, drug-addicted, and broken, I’d had no idea 300

Jamie Mayfield

what was going to happen to me. It took a while, but eventually I started to trust my father again. Unable to pinpoint an exact time or day, I realized it must have been sometime just after I got out of rehab.

He started to find out details about my life and didn’t abandon me. All of that was even before Brian came back into my life.

“You’re right, I’m not as scared anymore, but I
am
scared, Christian.”

“We’re all scared. I’m scared sometimes too. That’s why I use the pendant. It reminds me that I have strength. You have strength too,” he assured me. As much as I didn’t want to admit it right then, I knew he was right. I’d survived much worse than probation and not being able to get a job. I’d survived losing my family. I’d survived losing Brian.

I’d survived an overdose of cocaine spiked with rat poison. I’d survived rape and pain. So many worse things had happened to me, and I’d survived them all.

“Did you have to take classes to become all-knowing?” I asked him with a smirk, and he grinned back at me.

“Yep, I have a PhD from the school of hard knocks, kid. I need to start the meeting, but let’s have lunch next week. I want to hear what else is happening with you. If that hickey is any indication, it hasn’t been all bad.” He laughed as I felt a blush creep to my face. With a sheepish smile, I turned around toward the group and found my dad sitting near the front. He smiled back at me.

“Guys, let’s get started,” Christian said from the front of the room. He waited for a few minutes for the murmur in the room to die down and then asked, “Okay, anyone want to get us started?” I wasn’t sure what made me do it—maybe it was our conversation about strength and not being scared anymore—but I raised my hand. I couldn’t tell if he was surprised or not, but Christian nodded and stepped back so that I could come up. My dad put a hand on my shoulder, and I took a deep breath before standing up. My legs felt shaky as I went to the small table where everyone gave their stories. A few people looked up and smiled encouragingly as I stood there mustering my courage. Finally, I just grabbed the sides of the table and faced my fear.