Veil of Scars

Evernight Publishing ®

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2015 J.R. Gray

ISBN: 978-1-77233-321-3

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Karyn White

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.  No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

Even the most painful situations can become the best inspiration. In madness we find comfort, and we are all a little Mad sometimes.

Thank you to all those that helped get this piece finally to light.

Sally—This would never had been finished if you hadn’t begged me to.

Patty—I think you know why. 

Karen—Thank you for your amazing beta work, always.

Nathan—Because when it counts you’re always here for me.

Sean—Most ardently. P&P — 256pg, 9, 1-36. P&P — 257pg, 25, 1-22.  LB — 278pg, 9l, 5-10.

VEIL OF SCARS

J.R. Gray

Copyright © 2015

Chapter One

Keys rattled in the lock, drawing me out of the calculus coma I had forced myself into. I had my books spread out on the coffee table, hunched over a problem. My gaze darted to the microwave clock, surprised since I wasn’t expecting anyone. I swallowed back the lump in my throat, not sure whose face I’d rather see. The door swung open, and there stood my ruggedly handsome roommate. My stomach flipped, and I quickly tore my gaze away from his face.

"Hey, Steven." Sam hung up his coat and came over to take a seat across from me.

"Hey, man." I kept my eyes on my work, not looking up.

Sam also had these blue eyes I was sure could see right through me, which at times left me feeling vulnerable, like tonight.

It was a Saturday, and I'd expected to be home alone all night. The music was going, and the tiny apartment was buzzing with the low thump of the bass. It was a furnished two bedroom. Nothing to write home about, not that I would even if it were.

"I thought you and Char were going to that party?" My chest grew tight as I set the book aside. I thought he’d be crawling in during the morning light, not this early.

“I went, but you should have come with me. Shit’s always boring without you.” He had a strong jaw line and dimples, giving his broad smile a touch of cute. I’d seen more than one woman pinch his cheeks over the years.

"I had work to get done." I was his stark opposite. Green eyes with black hair fell almost to my shoulders because I never got it cut. My soft features and alabaster skin were anything but “manly” while he was tan, and he had about fifty pounds of muscle on me.

He stared at me until I looked up. "I always have more fun when you come. Plus you have a good time when we drag you out."

I didn’t agree. Staying in on the weekends appealed more than pushing myself outside to socialize. I’d always been a bit of an introvert, or that's what textbook definition fit me best. None of the typical feelings and attractions normal kids my age were going through made sense to me.

But I didn't have the heart to tell him. "Yeah, maybe." So instead, I focused on my books, excelling at school and sports. My first semester at Harvard had come and gone in a whirlwind, and I was ass deep in my second. “Not like I’d know anyone there anyway.”

“Maybe if you came out more, you would.” He leaned forward on his arms.

I swallowed hard. “Maybe you should stay in more with me instead of going out.” I half smiled.

He grinned back coyly. “You’d like that too much.”

I shifted in my seat, looking down at my hands, willing them to be still in my lap. “Why’d you come home early anyway?”

"My head is hurting from last night, so I bounced." He sat back and kicked his feet up on the coffee table, stretching out his long, lean body. "What are you working on?"

“You missed me, admit it.” I tucked a long, dark strand of hair behind my ear and looked quickly down at the books. "Just some final review for my calc midterm Monday."

He rolled his eyes and got up from his seat, moving a book to slip down next to me. Our shoulders brushed. He was warm and familiar, and it was nothing unusual when he leaned into me to look at the book that sat on my lap. His closeness still got me every time, and I melted into him feeling suddenly at ease. I moved to sit back, and before I could fully recline, he slung an arm around my shoulder. I angled into his body, absorbing the comfort only he could bring. I'd spent so many nights poring over books at his parents' house, settled in his full bed and sprawled out against him. The excuse was studying, but we both knew the real reason I'd slept at his house night after night. It was our unspoken agreement.

"Want some help?" Sam looked over at me, his pale pink lips only inches from my face.

Sam had never been allowed at my house, but it wasn’t just because of the part of town I lived in. “Past the tracks” as most people called it. Three miles took me from the trailers in concrete hell to picture perfect suburbia where Sam lived. It wasn't a long walk to that neighborhood where the grass was all green and the trees were so thick that their canopies touched in the middle of the road, a place where the cars were new and the doors were bright colors.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back to rest on his muscular bicep. "I think I got it. I was reviewing."

"You always do that. It's a waste of time for you to study this much," Sam joked. He was one of those kids that absorbed information through his pores. Anything he read or heard was instantly committed to long-term memory. He breezed through things with mid-level As without any of the work I put in. Had he committed to any study time at all, he would have surpassed me in grades, but he didn't see the point. But I'd learned to love studying, and it had probably saved my life.

"Force of habit, I guess."

"Mmmhmm." He scooted down on the couch. I went with him, his head tilting and resting against mine.

I opened one eye and set my hand on top of his folded ones. "Tired?"

"Yeah, last night did me in." His eyes were closed, and his long lashes rested against his smooth cheek.

"You drank a lot," I mumbled.

We'd been at a swim team party, and a drinking bet had been put on the table. The game involved teams of two, the last team standing was exempt from having to wear their Speedos out in the snow the next day. Sam chose me as a charity case, but it was he who’d drunk most of the members of the club under the table, including half of my share before the night was out. We’d spent the morning huddled together on the MIT quad, laughing our asses off. I wasn't surprised Sam was hung over.

"It wasn't bad. The Irish genes give me an edge." He came from a big family, all with different shades of red hair, but he was the only one with the blue eyes.

"Charlie coming home from the party, too?" I didn't dare to hope.

“She didn’t go. She’s pulling an all-nighter in the library with a group for a project or something or other." He shrugged.

Maybe I would get a stolen night. One like old times.

We sat there for a while in silence, not quite wrapped up in one another but taking comfort from the other's body heat. I closed my eyes. Even on the sofa a night in his arms was bliss.

"Want to go to bed?" Sam asked, rousing me from the light sleep I had slipped into.

“Yeah, sorry." I got to my feet, cheeks flushing a bit, realizing I’d just fallen into something that wasn’t a reality anymore. In seven months there had been a few stolen nights with my best friend, but living with Charlie had put a stop to how we once were.

His brows fell, and he looked up at me before getting to his feet. I was turning to head to my room when he grabbed me by the hand, lacing his fingers through mine. I stopped, looking up to search his face.

He didn't say a word as he led me to the bed he shared with her. I couldn't help the smile that spread over my lips. The dark gave me the cover I needed to watch him pull the polo off his broad shoulders and cast it aside. I kicked out of my jeans and added my shirt to his on the floor, before crawling into bed.

The assured way he scooted in after me, coming up from behind to wrap his arms around my body, gave me a pain in the middle of my chest I couldn’t explain. I leaned back into his bare skin, and a calm washed over me. Within moments, it was like the nervous bundle of energy that had been wound inside me for months started to dissolve.

He tucked his head in next to my shoulder and whispered, “Goodnight," against my skin.

Chapter Two

"Someone is going to see you two at some point and think you're gay." Charlie's voice pulled me out of my dreams.

Bright light filtered in through the cheap blinds hanging over the window, reflecting off the white-washed walls, making the room too bright to open my eyes. My mind was still groggy and laced with sleep. During the night, Sam and I had shifted positions, and currently, I lay on my stomach, which I was thankful for with Charlie in the room. My thin boxer briefs were my only covering.

Sam's arm was draped over my back, and his fingers tightened on my ribs in a possessive grip as he mumbled something about leaving him be.

Charlie laughed and flopped down on Sam's other side. "I see what you do when you don't have me. You find someone else to fill the void."

“Well, if you're not doing your job, someone has to." Sam grunted, not making a move to detangle himself from me.

"You're making me jealous," she huffed.

Sam picked up his head. "Aww, baby, I'm sorry."

She smirked and met my eyes. "If you got to cuddle Steve all night, I should get a turn." She crawled over him and landed on my other side, laying her head on my back.

I was comfortable with them. It was easy.

"I knew you had a secret crush on him this whole time!" Sam joked.

Late in our senior year, almost a year ago, Charlie and Sam had broken up, which left her without a date to prom. Sam swore he was going alone for the experience. I had refused to go, not wanting any part of asking someone or the awkward dancing that would inevitably occur, even if it meant staying at home for the duration.

****

My father sat in his stained, green recliner with his feet up, and when the doorbell sounded, he started cussing. I ran to get it, expecting the postman, but slipped out the door when I saw who it was. Charlie stood there, staring back at me, and when I peeked around her, I saw her mother waiting in the car.

"Charlie, what are you doing here?" I closed the door behind me.

She smiled her irresistible grin. ”I want you to go to the prom with me."

I glanced behind me where I could still hear my father bellowing. I sucked my lip into my mouth as my eyes wandered back to her mother in their hybrid SUV, who appeared about as out of place as a killer whale in a shopping center.

"I can't." Not only did I have no interest in a dance, but there was no way I could spare the money. I was saving every penny I made at my part-time lifeguard gig for college.

"Yes, you can. You don't have to worry. My mom is going to pay for the tux rental, and I already have the tickets." She held up her hands to cut me off. "I don't want to hear it. She’s doing it for me. You're my best friend and the best looking guy at the school." She mumbled something under her breath that sounded like “other than the asshole,” before going on. "And there is no one else I could imagine being a better date."

I groaned when she batted her big, violet eyes at me. I couldn't say no.

She barely contained her excitement. “Do you want to go get the stuff now?"

"Who the fuck is at the door, Steve?" my father grunted from inside.

I didn’t answer him, jogging down the front steps towards her car. "Let's go."

"You're not going to grab a coat?" She trailed after me.

I glanced back at the door then shook my head. "Nope."

When I showed up at the dance with a purple shiner to match her dress, she didn't say a word. She wasn't an idiot.

****

The rest of the week flew by, and the weekend of our first house party had arrived. Both Sam and Charlie had invited a few friends, nothing out of control. They'd told me to invite some of mine, but I hadn't really found anyone to ask, so I figured I’d have a few drinks and people watch. I’d done the same at many parties in the life of my friendship with the two of them. This would be no different.

"You're such an introvert, Steve." Char was standing with the door of the fridge wide open, looking over what Sam had bought for the night. "I can't believe you didn't invite anyone."

"I am complacent with my group of friends." I wrapped my arms around myself watching her back. She was rarely ever insistent about my behavior, usually leaving me to do as I always had done. I started to panic thinking she would want me to branch out like she and Sam had done since coming to college. Maybe they saw me as needy or something. "I can get out of here tonight if you don't want me to crash your party." I sucked on my lip ring thinking of the project I could be working on in the library until their friends cleared out.

She turned on me, narrowing her perfectly manicured eyebrows. "You're so dense sometimes." She grabbed me by the hand and dragged me towards the door, collecting her purse on the way, but not letting me go. "Come on. Sam didn't get enough girly mixers."

"I heard that, and man up," he grunted from the couch where he sat in his video game haze.

"Woman up, asshat." She said it with a smile, and he didn't even have to look up to know.

Sam held up his middle finger wearing a similar expression. The flipping the bird had become almost a game to them since they'd started dating. I could remember whole dinners at Sam's house sitting alongside his mother, while the pair of them tried to out flip the bird each other without anyone noticing. Ever since then it had become synonymous with "I love you".

Charlie laced our fingers together as we walked down the two flights of stairs from our apartment heading out into the cold. I pulled my hood over my head, shocked she wasn't freezing with only the thin sweater she wore. She stalked down the block towards the liquor store that sat at the corner. My stomach turned, and bile rose in my throat. When we were only a shop away, I stopped dead in my tracks, a dead weight. She tried to drag me forwards and then turned to look at me when I didn't move.

"What's wrong?"

She must have noticed all the color drained from my face. I couldn't speak, and I shook my head.

"I'll wait out here."

She studied me for a long moment before she stepped into me. She set her hands on my biceps and leaned up on her toes. "Come inside, you're going to freeze out here. I'll be quick I promise."

The weight of the evening, and what she was asking me to do, sunk me. I took an uneven breath. "I won't freeze." I looked away.

She gently lowered my hood and slid a finger under my chin so I would look at her. "Steven, hold my hand and don't let your past control you."

Taking my hand again she tugged me forward, and I lifted one foot. It felt leaded, but I moved. Each step was a task. The bell sounded as we entered, making me cringe. It was like being eight years old again, and I hated myself for it. She led me towards the mixer section and grabbed a few things. When she turned back around with her arms full I sighed. She looked like she was about to tip over. I took them from her. Setting them on the counter I felt a little better as this was nothing like the corner store near my house.

Char whipped out her gold card, and the man behind the counter bagged everything. We were silent on the way back, and I decided I needed to ditch the party. I couldn't face her, let alone anyone else with how I was feeling. Sam would understand. The only reason I'd agreed to it was for him anyway.

"You know you're my best friend right?" Charlie stopped in the middle of the block dragging me to a halt this time.

"Am I?"

Her auburn tinged hair blew in the wind. "You are. You always have been."

"Even with all the new friends you've made?" My chest ached, and it took an eternity for her to answer.

"Always, silly, always. No one compares to the heart you have." She set her hand over my chest and smiled up at me.

I'd gained and lost so much in the last year, but it comforted me to know I still had her friendship.

People slowly started filtering into our apartment.

****

At the end of eighth grade, Sam threw his first party in his parents’ basement. He made me promise to come. The night started with music, and everyone lined up along the wall until Sam had started forcing people, including me, out to the middle of his basement floor to dance. The tension eased, and people started having fun. As things died down, and we all ended up sitting in a circle in the middle of the floor, someone suggested spin the bottle. It went round, and I got more and more nervous. I didn't want the bottle to land on me.

I avoided it until it was my turn, and I groaned inwardly. The last thing I wanted to do was take someone to the closet for any amount of time. I wasn't comfortable with most people alone, and a simple touch of my shoulder would have me sharply pulling away. I turned red faced thinking about it. But I put one of my large hands on the bottle and spun, looking at every face the bottle passed and trying to picture what would happen in the dark utility closet.

My breathing hitched when the bottle stopped on Sam. The kids started laughing and cracking jokes about how they knew I’d always been gay because of my long hair and my effeminate features. My eyes burning and hands balled into fists, I got to my feet, not sure if I was going to run from the room or kick someone’s face with one of my big, black boots. The room closed in, and I couldn't breathe. I knew I shouldn't have come.

Sam was at my side, and he placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"I guess if it's uncool to be gay, then y'all better get the fuck out of my house." He took my hand and dragged me towards the closet.

I struggled to inhale, stumbling as he pulled us inside and slammed the door. A faint glow flickered from the pilot light of the hot water heater, illuminating his strong jaw line in a harsh shadow.

"What are you doing?” I asked. "You know how many rumors are going to be started because of this?"

"So?" He said like it didn't matter.

"You shouldn't have risked it for me." I looked down at my boots and blew my hair out of my face.

"Like you did for me?"

“It was just once, Sam, and it was no big deal.”

Sam had been behind the rest of us in our growth spurts before middle school. Back in a time long forgotten, he had been the short, fat kid. It was astounding what a few inches and the swim team could change. How easily minds are swayed by a pretty face. The look he had when the kids were swarming and taunting him in the lunch room was one I had known well. I wore it at home quite frequently. I'd always been big for my age, and I was good in a fight. Defending yourself since birth had a way of doing that for you, or maybe it was the cold, dead, green eyes that scared the kids off. But since that day, Sam and I were inseparable. Even popularity didn't drive us apart.

The hint of a smile crept over my lips as I looked back at him.

“Plus, there could be worse rumors than me making out with you for seven minutes." He stepped into me, and my whole body got warm. His long fingers slid around the back of my neck, and he leaned closer until I could feel his breath fanning over my lips. He smelled like root beer, ranch dip, and cheap teenage boy body spray. I'll never forget that combination. He pressed his forehead to mine and smiled. "Let them say what they want. You’re hot." Chuckling, he pulled back and then hesitated.

I wanted everything and nothing all in that moment. I didn't want him to move or anything to change between us. I wanted how I felt in that moment to last forever. He wrapped his arms around me after another second and held me tight. It was the first time I had felt that type of devotion towards anyone.

I realized something: that was love. I finally knew what love felt like. Not only did I realize what it felt like to be loved for the first time but also to love someone else in return. I wasn't in love with him. It wasn't romantic, but it was home. The warm glow that spread out from my chest to the tips of my toes.

****

The memory faded, but I could still feel its warmth.

Soon the music was going and party-goers were milling about in the low lights. There were drinks and bodies on every surface. I stood behind the bar, not minding making drinks for the guests since there was little else at the party that I wanted to do. The atmosphere mellowed as the liquor took effect, and Sam had long stopped trying to drag me out to dance. Instead, he’d taken up a spot on the couch with Char. Their mouths met, skin and lips, while their hands wandered, stroking and skimming over each other’s clothes as the party moved around them. I sat back, finding I was no longer needed as everyone was sated. The few remaining people had paired off in couples for the night, strewn over the furniture and floor. The base thumped, and bodies moved with it as if the alcohol had turned them into living recreations of the music. The door to Char and Sam's room slammed shut, closing off a guy and two adventurous women.

Sam’s head snapped back at the sound, and he cursed under his breath. He glanced around then whispered to Char. She giggled and grabbed a throw off the back of the couch.

An outsider where I sat, I seemed to have escaped notice as the only fairly sober party in the room.

She pulled the blanket over herself and then moved the thin fabric over his lap. Soon Sam’s head flopped back into the cushion, and his mouth fell open in a soundless moan. Charlie's eyes blazed with mischief, and she grew more eager with every reaction from her boyfriend. His hand slid up her shoulder, curling around the back of her neck. My skin burned in the same place, a physical memory of the times he’d touched me the same way.