Omorphi (73 page)

“We’ll be fine after we shower again. It was seriously gross,” Michael added.

“Do they know who did it?”

“It was the idiot who beat Jerry up and his big brother.”

She shook her head in disgust. “Your dad’s gone to Saint Elizabeth’s for an emergency appendectomy. I’ll have Dr. Peters replace it.”

Michael was half-relieved he didn’t have to face his dad and half-sorry he wasn’t there. He wanted to make things right between them. “Will Dad be okay with that?”

“He’ll be fine with it. Come on back.”

Michael looked back over his shoulder. “Jerry, you’re on.”

“Is he mad?”

“He’s not here. Another doc is going to do it.”

J
ERRY
hopped up on the exam table, and Michael, Jake, and Bobbie watched from the doorway as Dr. Peters cut the dirty cast off Jerry’s arm. Michael winced when he saw Jerry’s bruised arm. It was hued in nearly every color of the rainbow. How Jerry managed to bash his cast around without pain, Michael couldn’t fathom.

“Are you coming home tonight?” Bobbie asked softly.

“After we take Jerry back to Wellington,” Michael answered.

“Be sure to speak with your father when you get home.”

“C
HECK
it out, Christy! I got a purple cast!” Jerry announced as he entered Christy’s cabin, looked around, and didn’t see him. “Christy?”

Christy peered over the loft railing, the look on his face betraying his frustration with the interruption. “You have a new one?”

Jerry looked up. “There you are! Yeah! You gotta see it! It’s so cool!” He started up the stairs.

“Jerry, no!”

Jerry froze midway up the staircase and turned to Michael.

“I will come down,” Christy said quickly from above.

“The loft is off-limits, man,” Michael explained.

“Oh, sorry. Why?”

“He paints up there. It’s his private studio,” Michael explained and kissed Christy when he reached the bottom step. “You okay, babe? You look a little pale.” Michael petted Christy’s paint-stained ringlets and gave him a gentle hug.

Christy rubbed his forehead with the back of a hand and managed to smear three colors of paint across his brow. “I am okay. Why are you here?”

“We took Jerry to my dad’s office to get a new cast. Jerry wanted to show it to you. That’s all.” Michael petted Christy’s curls again.

Christy admired the neon-purple cast with strained effort. “Very colorful. Why do you have a new one?”

“That jerk, Duncan, and his big brother drove by and threw buckets of blood at us, and it wrecked my cast! It was so gross, Christy. You should have seen it! Ughh! There was so much blood! It’s still all over the parking lot at school! They’ll probably think we slaughtered a cow there!”

Christy looked up at Michael, confused, unsure, scared, anxiety visibly building in his eyes. He began to tremble. “Blood?”

Horror tinged Michael’s spine.
Oh my God
. Jerry’s innocent exclamations had brought to the forefront the very thing Christy had likely dealt with all day in his reconstructions. Michael brought Christy into his arms and held him close. “It’s okay,” Michael whispered as he kissed Christy’s paint-spattered forehead, not caring whether his lips came away with five shades of color. He held Christy tightly and kissed the top of his head. “It’s all right, babe.”

“There was blood?” Christy’s words were muffled against Michael’s chest.

“Yeah, but we’re okay. It wasn’t your blood. That’s the important part, isn’t it?” he whispered ever so softly.

Christy clung to him. “Not my blood. Not mine.”

“No, not yours. Never yours again,” Michael reassured.

“What’s wrong with him?” Jerry asked.

Michael looked to Jake for help and realized he’d never told Jake what Christy had endured with respect to blood. He closed his eyes and tried to think fast. “What do you want me to tell him?” he whispered to Christy.

Christy buried deeper against Michael’s chest. “The truth.”

Michael cleared his throat in an effort to buy a few seconds to formulate his words. “Jerry.” Michael licked his suddenly dry lips. “Christy has been through some pretty tough things. He, well, people hurt him and… he bled a lot, so he doesn’t do so well with it. Blood, I mean. We shouldn’t talk about blood anymore. Okay?” There. That was good, wasn’t it? Enough, but not too much?
Crap, I am so out of my friggin’ league.

“Oh,” Jerry said softly. He set a gentle hand on Christy’s shoulder, and Christy nearly jumped out of his skin.

“It’s all right, babe, it’s all right,” Michael assured. “It’s only Jerry.”

“Sorry,” Jerry said quickly. “I didn’t mean to, ah, well you know, make it worse.”

Christy peered up at Michael from the safety of his embrace. “This is okay to do in this country? Throw blood at people?”

“Not at all,” Jake answered. “The police got them.”

Christy shook his head, trying to process his words, suddenly aware of Jake’s presence. “You are okay?”

“We’re fine,” Michael assured with another pet to his curls. “I just wanted to say hi. Do you want me to call you later?”

“I would like this.”

“Okay, babe.” Michael pecked his lips.

“C
HRISTY
looked a little stressed out,” Jake said as he drove.

“He’s painting some pretty awful stuff.”

“Have you seen any of it?”

“Yeah. It’s disgusting. There’s one picture that shows what happened to his neck.”

“What happened?”

Michael wished he hadn’t said anything. “Someone tied ropes around his neck, wrists, and ankles and hung him from the ceiling in midair, in sort of a cradle.”

“What do you mean, like, hanging in the air?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“So they could….” Michael let his words trail off. He didn’t think he could explain it without getting upset again.

Jake glanced at him, and he looked away. He stared at the passing lights, red, yellow, and white streaking his face in the dim reflection of the guidance system. Jake reached for Michael’s hand, and the comfort was welcome.

“I talked to your dad when I got home last night.”

Michael turned to him. “What’d you say?”

“Aside from telling him where you were and that you didn’t have your cell phone with you, I explained the situation.”

“What’d he say?”

“Didn’t. Your mom said it. She said, and I quote, ‘MacArthur Sattler, what would you have said if someone had asked you to give me up?’”

“Go Mom.”

“Right? My suggestion is that you talk to him nicely. Don’t fight.”

“I can’t forgive him for qualifying Christy.”

“Horseshit. Everyone says things when they’re upset. That doesn’t mean it’s who they are or what they really mean. Talk to him, man. Just talk to him.”

M
ICHAEL
leaned a hip against the desk in the parlor and looked at his dad. The last three weeks had aged his dad, and it was obvious he was exhausted. He didn’t think he, himself, looked much better, and he desperately wanted to take another shower. The shower at the gym definitely hadn’t been enough. But, more than anything, he wanted to make things right with his dad.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Mac said softly.

“Sorry about last night.”

“Me too.”

They both began to speak at once, and Michael clammed up. Mac smiled. “Go ahead.”

“It’s not right for you to say ‘someone like Christy.’ To qualify him like that.”

“It is, but I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I only meant that Christy comes with a number of factors that other boyfriends might not. That’s all that I intended to say.”

“Don’t you think I figured that out for myself? Don’t you think I already worry about the same things that you worry about? I don’t mean only the same things, but I also worry that
you
worry.” Michael idly straightened a stack of folders on the edge of the desk for something to do with his hands. “Shit, Dad, give me more credit.”

“I don’t doubt that you figured things out for yourself. You’ve always been very perceptive and levelheaded. However, I think that this is the first time you’ve honestly been in love, and you can’t blame me for being concerned when it comes to someone like Christy.”

“There you go again. You just can’t let it go, can you?”

“Michael, dammit, stop thinking that I’m judging Christy to your disadvantage!”

“But you are!”

“Michael, I support you two, but I owe it to you, my son, to be as objective as I can be. I think Christy is a fine boy, but he comes with extraordinary circumstances, and I have every obligation and every right to protect you to the extent that I can. You must accept that!”

Michael twisted inside trying to understand what his dad meant. “You’re saying that you support us but only to a point?”

“I’m saying that I support you, but I owed it to you to encourage you to see other people.”

“Owed. Past tense. As in this whole argument is over?”

Mac sighed and walked to one of the big picture windows and looked out at the dark sky. Moments passed, and Michael wanted to squirm and fought to be still. To Michael it felt like eons before his dad responded.

“Yes. I won’t beat a dead horse.”

Michael couldn’t help it. He buried his face in his hands and fought not to cry. The last three weeks had been the best and the worst of his life. When his dad hugged him, he lost it. He simply lost it and cried.

C
HRISTY
broke into one of his sudden and bright smiles when Michael pulled into Wellington at seven on Tuesday morning.
Man, I love that smile
, Michael thought as he leaned across the passenger seat and shoved the door open. “Do you need help?”

Christy shook his head. “I can do it.” Christy swung easily into the seat and hugged Michael. “
Kaliméra, filos
.”

“Morning, babe. How are you doing? Did you sleep okay?”

Christy nodded. “I finished three paintings last night.”

“Wow, that’s incredible.”

Christy beamed. “I am proud of me.”

Michael chuckled. “So am I.” He put the car into gear and hit the CD button and Taylor Swift’s “Untouchable” filled the air. “How’s your leg?”

“It is interesting. It is almost as if the cold water of the lake made the burn less. The leg is very good today.”

“Maybe it’s because you gave it a rest yesterday. I don’t suppose you looked at any of your homework.”

Christy shook his head as he looked out the window. “Are you still angry with your father about me?”

“First of all, it wasn’t about you, it was about my dad’s opinion, and second, no, we worked it out last night.”

Christy turned to him, fear and hurt large in his eyes. “You will see other people, then?”

“What?” Michael almost veered off the road as he turned to Christy, stunned. He quickly pulled over, put the car in park, and hit the CD button, silencing the music. “Have you been worrying about that since yesterday morning?” Christy lowered his eyes, and Michael’s heart nearly broke in two. He pulled Christy into his arms and hugged him tightly. “I would never see anyone else while I was with you. Never. I should have told you that yesterday.” He pulled back and cupped Christy’s face with both hands. “Never.”

“I would understand if you did. I have baggage.”

Michael made a small noise in frustration. “I love everything about you, including your baggage, Christy. I don’t want anyone else but you.”

Christy studied him for a long moment before wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him thoroughly. Only the need to breathe forced them apart.

“Thank you,” Christy whispered against his lips.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were worried?”

Christy slowly withdrew from Michael’s arms. “I have problems, and I thought you might want someone with no problems.”

Michael cupped his face again and rubbed a thumb lightly over his cheek. “Christy, everyone has problems, including me. Seeing someone else would only give me a different set of problems to deal with. But, seriously, I want only you.”

A small smile flickered across Christy’s lips as Michael’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He withdrew it and looked at it. It was Jake. He silenced it and turned back to Christy. “I want just you, Christy. No one else but you. I mean it.” His phone vibrated again. Irritated, he answered it. “What’s on fire, bro?”

“We are. Come to the office when you get to school and bring Christy with you.”

“What? Why?”

“Don’t know. I suspect it has something to do with what happened in the parking lot yesterday.”

“Christy wasn’t there. Why does he have to go to the office?”

“Because neither one of us is available to take him to class.”

“I’ll drop him first.”

“Let me try this differently for you, Michael. You’re late for school, and if you don’t have your ass here in five minutes, you’re going to be suspended.”

Michael gave the phone an incredulous look. “We’ll be there in a few minutes.” He hung up. “We need to get to school. You okay about us?”

Christy nodded.

“You need to tell me when you’re worried about us, okay?”

“Okay,” Christy said softly.

“Okay.” Michael put the car in gear. “We need to go to the office before we go to class.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Jake thinks it has something to do with what happened yesterday in the parking lot.”

M
ICHAEL
led Christy into the office and saw Jake, Stephen, Jerry, Lisa, George, and Jorge in the reception area. “What’s going on, Jake?”

“Not a clue. We all had one of these taped to our locker.”

Michael looked at the summons that Jake had pulled off his locker. “Christy too?”

“I didn’t check.”

Mrs. Thomas exited Headmaster Sullivan’s office and motioned them to the glass-enclosed conference room. They filed in and took seats along the far edge of the long table. “Headmaster Sullivan will be with you in a few moments. The bottles of water in the center of the table are for all of you.”