Omorphi (39 page)

The server returned and set a small bowl of ranch dressing next to Michael’s plate and a bottle of Tabasco next to Jake’s. “Holler if you need anything else.”

“Thanks.”

Christy swallowed his bite. “Gaydar?”

“I can take this one, Michael.”

“You’re hogging the easy ones.”

“Do you know what radar is, Christy? They have it on submarines.”

“Wrong, bro. That’s sonar. You sure you’re ready for Columbia? Radar is used for air traffic control.”

“Like I said, they have radar for aircraft. It’s so they can locate airplanes in the sky even when they can’t see them.”

Christy nodded.

“Okay, gaydar is radar for gay people to find other gay people and is not to be confused with guydar, which is radar for guys. Only girls have that. Michael’s gaydar doesn’t work properly. In fact, it doesn’t work at all. You could stick him in the middle of a gay pride parade and he’d still be trying to figure out who’s gay.”

“You cannot see it?” Christy whispered.

Jake sprinkled Tabasco on his fries. “Pathetic, isn’t it? I feel sorry for the guy.”

“Bullcrap, Jake. You think it’s highly entertaining when you can tell and I can’t.”

“Me too.”

“Oh my God. My boyfriend agreed with you, Jake. I’m scarred for life. That makes twice in one week. Be honest, Christy, can you always tell?”

Christy rolled his eyes and nodded.

“How?”

Christy set his burger down and wiped his hands on a napkin. “The way they look at me,” he said softly.

“In your case, I can see that, Christy, but not Michael’s. It’s hard to tell if Michael’s gay or not.”

Christy agreed with a nod.

Michael seasoned his fries with seasoning salt and poured the ranch dressing over them. Christy made a face. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

“Mayonnaise?” Christy asked.

“Salad dressing. Try one.”

“See, now, Christy, if I saw a guy do that, I’d know he was gay. A guy just doesn’t put ranch dressing on his fries. Try this.” Jake handed the Tabasco to Christy.

“Be careful. That’s hot,” Michael warned.

Christy dabbed a drop on his plate, dipped his fingertip into it, and put it to his tongue. His face immediately puckered, and he reached for a glass of water.

“Water won’t work. Eat a fry.”

Christy tried one of Michael’s fries and nodded in appreciation.

“I win, Jake. He likes my fries.”

“Christy, do you know any other gay guys at school?”

“Not out.”

“Can you name names?”

“Gavin. Noah.”

“No way. Are you serious?” Jake was incredulous.

“Noah, I can see, but Gavin?” Michael popped a fry into his mouth.

“They are together after practice.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.” Jake leaned in and lowered his voice. “Michael and I are together all the time. Doesn’t mean we’re gay.”

“Together in the shower.”

“You don’t mean, like, connected together. As in bodily one?”

Christy nodded.

Michael laughed. “See, Jake. Even your gaydar doesn’t work all the time.”

“Maybe it’s a passing thing. Sometimes guys like other guys until the right girl comes along.”

That hit too close to home for Michael. He studied Jake, trying to read between the lines.

“It’s true. We used to choke the chicken together all the time. Didn’t mean we were gay.”

“Agreed,” Michael admitted, relieved there wasn’t anything more to Jake’s comment.

Christy asked, “Choke the chicken?”

Michael leaned in, “Jack off.” Christy frowned. Michael put his hand beneath the table and demonstrated. Christy rolled his eyes.

“Who else is gay?” Jake pressed.

“Jerry.”

“Who’s that?”

“In art with me. Short with purple glasses and a pink line in the hair.”

Jake laughed. “How can he not be out with a pink streak in his hair?”

“Artist.”

“Now there’s a disguise if I ever heard of one. Would he be good for Stephen?”

Christy shrugged and glanced at Michael.

“What?”

Christy shook his head, a silent “nothing.”

“Come on, tell us.”

“You will not be mad?”

“I won’t be mad. Promise.”

“Stephen is a bad kisser with the hands all over and rough.”

Michael grinned. “That’s good to hear. I mean, not good, but definitely better for me.”

Christy nodded emphatically.

“Do you think Jerry can stick up for himself?”

Christy nodded. “Can be bitchy.”

Jake laughed. “Maybe that’s exactly what Stephen needs. You could introduce them and see what happens.”

“Do you wish me to invite Jerry to lunch?”

Jake gave Michael a wary look. “Our table could get a rep.”

“It isn’t like it doesn’t have one after today.”

“True.”

“I have an idea.” Michael pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Stephen. “Yeah, it’s me. Hey, Jake mentioned that thing you needed…. Yeah, that thing. You into meeting people blind?” Michael laughed. “No, he can see. Where are you after first period tomorrow…? Ah-huh, okay. You know where the art bungalows are…? Yeah, the one closest to the parking lot. Leave class five minutes early. Christy will hook you up…. All I know is short, purple glasses, and hair has a pink streak…. Sounds good, man. Later.” Michael tossed the phone on the table. “He’s thrilled.”

Jake turned back to Christy. “Anyone else? Might be good to have a backup in case Jerry doesn’t work out.”

Christy wiped his hands on a napkin and picked up the pen. He clicked it against his lower lip and abruptly stopped with an annoyed look at it, as if the pen had hurt his bruised lip deliberately. He wrote
Stephen top
.

Jake sprinkled more Tabasco on his fries. “How do you know that?”

Christy rolled his eyes and wrote
Said what he would do to me
.

Michael’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

Christy nodded and wrote
Some like this talk
.

Jake made a face. “Eeew.”

Christy scribbled
Others in school tops
.

“Maybe Stephen can handle it.”

Christy shrugged and mouthed, “Okay,” before scribbling
Jorge
.

Michael read the name. “Oh, no way!”

Jake looked at the pad. “Jorge the football player? The giant guy with the goatee?”

Christy nodded.

Jake coughed a laugh. “Bad visual.”

Christy took a sip of Coke, and Michael swallowed a fry. “What do you expect for a guy who plays a game with tight ends, wide receivers, and only one ball?”

Jake barked a laugh. “You’re too much, bro.”

Christy’s hand shot to his mouth to stifle a laugh, Coke bubbling up and fizzing through his fingers.

Michael chuckled. “You okay, babe?” He handed a napkin to Christy as his phone rang. He looked at it before answering it this time. It was Tad.
Crap.
He couldn’t say anything about the death threat in front of Christy, but he was desperate to know whether the security system had been tapped into.
Roll with me, Tad.
“Hi, Mom.”

“I take it that Christy is nearby?”

“Yep.”

“Michael, we have a couple of problems. There’s been a security breach at Wellington.” Tad was grave.

“Is the kid going to be okay?”

“Not for several hours. I’m unable to reach your father. Where—?”

“Sorry to hear that. How late will you be at Saint Elizabeth’s?”

“Is that where he is?”

“Oh God, you haven’t even made it out of labor and delivery yet?”

“I’ll reach him there. Will you please take Christy to your home for the night?”

“I can’t imagine a risky procedure like that.”

“We’ve tripled security. The house will be surrounded.”

“He must be really broken up. I can’t imagine what I would say to him.”

“Tell Christy you’ll be home alone all night. Make it sound as if your parents said it was okay if he stays with you.”

“What about the other parent?”

“Rob’s back here now. Have Christy call him for permission to stay with you.”

“Really? It’s okay if he stays with me?” Michael looked at Christy. “He doesn’t have clothes for school tomorrow.”

“One of the security personnel will have clothes and medication.”

“Okay. I really hope things get better.”

“Mr. Santini asked that Jake call him.”

“I’ll tell Jake to call him. See you in the morning.”

“Another thing.”

“What?”

“Security spotted Jason Whitman tampering with your car. We don’t know what he did to it. When you leave the restaurant, head straight to Jake’s car. He’s driving a Mercedes. Have him drive you home.”

“Oh wow, you saw it leaking this morning? Was it bad?”

“Jason’s with two other people who we have yet to identify.”

“I think either Rich or Tony can fix it.”

“Thanks, Michael. We’ll be in touch.”

“Thanks, Mom. I’ll call if there’s a problem getting home. Love you.” Michael took a sip of lemonade. “Jake, you turn your cell off? Your dad called my parents looking for you. Call him.”

“It’s on, and he knows—”

“Hey, don’t look at me. I have a hard enough time paper-training my own parents.” Michael looked at Christy. “I’m going to be home alone all night. Mom says you can stay the night if you want to.”

Christy’s eyes went wide, and Jake gave Michael a quizzical look as he plucked his phone off the table. “They stuck at the hospital all night?”

“High-risk baby. Has things that aren’t supposed to be there. They’re going to remove ’em and seal him up again, so he’s safe from bugs and anything else that might threaten his well-being. And I guess my dad saw an oil leak under my car this morning. He wants me to leave my car here and for you to give us a ride home.”

Jake gave him a look, as if registering that Michael was speaking in ill-formed syntax.

Sorry, Jake, it’s the best I can do off the top of my head
.

“No problem. Excuse me, Christy, while I go assuage my nervous-Nellie father. I’ll be right back.” Jake scooted out of the booth and walked into the corridor leading to the restrooms.

“I would love it if you spent the night, but if you don’t want to, I understand.”

Christy scribbled
Saturday night was together
.

“That was different. It was a horrible night. This would be only if you want to.”

Christy thought for a moment, and then wrote
Rob may not permit it
.

“All you can do is ask. Text him. If you want to. If you don’t, I understand.”

Christy thought for a moment, uncertainty filling his eyes.

Michael stroked his long ringlets. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Christy. I’ll be fine. I’ve been alone all night a lot of times.”

Christy seemed to make up his mind. He withdrew his phone, typed a text message, and showed it to Michael.

“Good.”

Christy sent it and received a message right back. He showed the phone to Michael again.

“Wow. I guess he’s happy about us. You sure you want to?”

Christy scribbled
Want to try
.

“If it’s too much, we’ll take you home.”

Jake returned to the table. “Man, sometimes the old man is worse than Mama. I told him I’d be home after I took you guys home.” Michael and Jake reached for the check at the same time, and Jake smacked Michael’s hand. “Dad said to use his card.”

The only time Nero Santini let Jake use his credit card was when he wanted a tax receipt, and nothing about this meal was tax deductible. Something was up.

Jake signaled the server, and she came right over. “Everything okay?”

“Fine, thanks.” Jake handed the credit card to her.

“Did you want any dessert to go?”

Michael grinned. “No thanks. I have dessert.”

Christy rolled his eyes and shoved Michael’s shoulder.

“M
Y
CAR
’
S
this way, man. Where’s your car?”

Michael pointed to his car. It was five cars away on the other side of the aisle. “Why’d you drive the Mercedes?”

“My dad’s being paranoid. He doesn’t want to chance Jason taking any potshots at me. The Mercedes is bullet resistant.”

“He has a point.”

“I think Jason’s on the run. I doubt he’s anywhere near here.”

Michael looked at Jake to see if he’d lost his mind. Jake glanced at Christy before he winked at Michael.

They climbed into the Mercedes, Christy fitting snugly between them on the front bench seat. Jake started the car, and Michael’s SUV exploded.

J
AKE
, Michael, and Christy watched as the roof of Michael’s car shot fifty feet into the sky and began a slow descent. It twirled once like a leaf on a summer breeze, and the wind carried it straight toward them.

“Get down, Jake!” Michael tucked Christy’s head and shielded him with his body.

The shrapnel landed with an earsplitting crash on the hood of the Mercedes, and the windshield cracked. They sat up slowly and watched as a spider web of cracks took a full minute to fill the window. Sirens wailed in the distance, but they were deaf to the approaching sound.

Jake said something to Michael, and Michael pointed to his ear. “I can’t hear you!”

Christy had turned as white as a sheet, and Michael cupped his face gently. “You okay?”

Christy looked up at him with terror-stricken eyes.

“Can you hear me?”

Christy frowned and shook his head.

Michael brought Christy into his arms and looked out at the wreckage that was his car.
Holy Mother of God.
Michael looked beyond his car to the field that abutted the parking lot. He squinted and rubbed his eyes, unsure if he was imagining things. Three people sprinted across the field with four people in hot pursuit but losing ground quickly. Michael patted Jake’s shoulder and pointed.

Jake started to get out of the car, and Michael grabbed his shirtsleeve. He shook his head and mimed pulling a trigger with thumb and forefinger. Jake closed the car door.