In the Fishbowl - 5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thanks to Jim for editing!

“This place is great,” Travis commented, not seeming too worried about whether or not Dennis could hear him from the bathroom he’d entered to change his clothes, while Travis took in all the open space in his room. “Nice people, too. Why are you trying to avoid them?”

The bathroom door swung open. “I’m not avoiding anyone,” Dennis stated, looking across the room. He cocked his head at Travis, as if he couldn’t quite figure out how he’d come to be in his room in the first place.

“Really? Seems like you are.”

“Maybe I just want to get you out of here,” Dennis replied as he crossed the room to find some socks in his closet.

Travis watched his bare feet, toes red from the cold, as they crossed the room on the beige carpeting. “Why?” he asked.

“Because like you said. They’re nice people, and I’d feel guilty exposing them to any more of you than necessary.”

Travis thought that over as if it were a reasonable explanation. “Nah,” he finally decided. “If you were worried about that you would’ve let me out on the side of the road way before we got here.”

“Yeah. About that. Do you always jump in moving vehicles without being invited.”

“It wasn’t moving, and I saw you from the bus. I figured it would better trying to talk to you like that than ordering another pizza. So is it because of Aiden? Old friend, right? Is my roommate an old friend, too?”

Dennis thought about Ryan for a minute. “Maybe.”

“Man. What’s with you not getting along with anyone? Kinda hard, isn’t it? Seems like everyone around here knows everyone. Figured you were in a different crowd and then it turns out you live with the little one...” Travis held his hand out at chest level as he searched for the name. “Reilly. He likes you. Does anyone else?”

“Aiden and Ryan? Not likely.”

“Phil...” Travis added. “Is there anyone else on the list?”

“Probably.”

Travis whistled. “Why don’t you like them?”

“Maybe they don’t like me,” Dennis said impatiently. He was on his bed now, rolling on a clean pair of socks, and still trying to figure out what was possessing him to engage in conversation with this... guest.

“Do they have a reason not to?”

“Probably.”

“So dinner’s gonna be awkward, then?”

Dennis glanced up long enough to give Travis a once-over. “Definitely.”

“Well. Sounds like fun all around then.” Travis suddenly crossed over to Dennis’s bed, sat on the mattress, and bounced a few times. “I think you should explain it to me.”

“Explain what?” Dennis asked, inching away enough so that their shoulders weren’t close enough to touch.

“Why you and your dad don’t get along.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You might as well tell me, or else I’ll just ask him.”

“Go ahead.”

Travis regarded Dennis curiously. “When was the last time you did talk to him?”

“I don’t remember,” Dennis replied, but it was clear to both of them that he was lying. Frowning to himself, Dennis looked at Travis and was quick to turn the conversation towards him to avoid further interrogation. “How long have you worked at the dealership?”

“Hmm... few months now, I think.”

“And you haven’t quit yet?”

“What for? It’s not such a bad job. Boring at times, though.”

“Just boring? So you don’t get sick of being called a pussy little bitch? Dumbass boy?”

Travis laughed out loud. “So he really is your dad!”

Dennis shook his head. “Seems weird that he hasn’t fired you yet. You... talk too much.”

Travis shrugged. “Actually, he does that at least twice a week--fires me. But, he never means it. I think he likes me.”

Now Dennis laughed, but it was obviously void of humor. “He doesn’t like anyone.”

Travis shrugged, not bothering to argue with that assessment. He’d get nowhere, and if Dennis’s outburst outside was any indication, he was walking delicate ground on this topic, which he’d decided should be dealt with in small doses. Besides, he was a little surprised that he was dealing with it at all. It wasn’t like him to take an avid interest in anyone’s family affairs, but he’d already decided that he was this time because Mr. Gordon was a curious man, who turned out to have a curious family. So, Travis opened his mouth to change the subject, which turned out to be easy when a strange scratching sound reached his ears.

“What’s that?”

Dennis looked up suddenly, as if he’d forgotten something, and then suddenly rushed to his closed door. Travis stood as he opened it, and watched as he let in a little black dog, one that looked like it had seen its fair share of mischief. She entered the room cautiously, head ducked and her short stubby tail tucked tightly up against her butt as if she were preparing for a scolding. And maybe she had reason for one, Travis determined when he saw that she was tracking in black marks that matched her coat perfectly. Dennis was quick to scoop her up, looking perturbed. “What the hell have you been into?” he demanded of the dog as he held her safely away from his shirt. But, he didn’t seem too concerned by it as he wiped her paws with a dirty t-shirt from the laundry basket, freed her into the room and waved Travis out. It was a slow climb up the stairs as Dennis vacuumed each and every paw-print the canine had left behind.

***

If anything, the Chesleys weren’t the kind of parents who worried about their guests filling up on hot chocolate and marshmallows before dinner, because there seemed to be a lot of it around a long oval table that fit perfectly in the open, newly painted dining room where everyone but Mr. and Mrs. Chesley had gathered. They’d instead gone to the kitchen together to make dinner. Whatever it was smelled strongly of simmering tomatoes and garlic, and was obviously enjoyable to put together, since there was more chatter and laughter coming from the kitchen than the dining room.

But, that was because the four young men occupying the dining room had nothing to say to each other, and at least one of them, who’d had no warning of what he was walking into, found his company completely unexpected.

Aiden Knightly was used to Dennis Gordon living with the Chesleys by now, but it was never a bother when he came to visit the family he’d grown close to. Dennis was hardly ever around, anyway, and it seemed that when he was, he made himself scarce when Aiden was around. The few times that they did come face to face, if anything passed between them it was a nod of recognition, and only that when they ended up face to face attempting to pass in opposite directions through the same doorway. Now that they were seated at a table across from each other, the same rules seemed to apply. But, that hardly bothered Aiden any, since the Chesleys had a guest even more unexpected than Dennis at their table.

Aiden, who’d been spending most of his nights in his best friend’s living room, hadn’t gotten to know much about Ryan’s roommate. Thus far, if anything, Aiden found Travis Beltnick to be both interesting and worth pondering, whether or not he was around; which, he rarely was when it came to the apartment he shared with Ryan. A few days before he’d come home with the black eye that was still fading on his face. Aiden had asked him about it, and Travis had grinned at him in a way that managed to unnerve him, and then he’d replied, Don’t worry your pretty little head over it. Aiden had been at a loss then, and he was at a loss now. In fact, he hadn’t known how to interact with Travis ever since the guy had bluntly invited Aiden into his bed.

It was unusual, since usually Aiden was pretty good at taking anything from anyone. He pretended to be unbothered by it, though, every time Travis decided to talk to him like that--which, happened to be every time that Travis talked to him. Unbothered and unaffected. But then, Aiden also realized that his fronted disinterest to the attention wasn’t working to discourage Ryan’s roommate. That didn’t really bother him, either, though he found himself pretending that it did. That part bothered him; that he didn’t know how to respond to any of it. It bothered him more that he was pretty sure that he secretly liked the attention, if only because it seemed like it had been months since he’d experienced it with anyone.

And now, across the table, Travis seemed to be doing it again. Each time his dark, narrow eyes cut across the table to Aiden it was like an obvious invitation; like a wordless secret that he didn’t care who noticed. But then, Aiden was pretty sure that he was the only one who did notice. Dennis was stirring his steaming drink, looking like he wanted no part of any of the happenings around him, and Reilly was busy talking when Travis--who was simply not one for long silences--had asked him about school, seeming to take a polite interest in all details that Reilly was willing to offer. And Reilly was offering a lot, Aiden noticed, for a boy who had a hard time speaking to anyone before he became fully comfortable with them. But then, Aiden was also willing to admit that when Travis wasn’t making him feel utterly naked, his charismatic personality made him someone that others would want to talk to.

“How old are you?” Travis asked him.

“I’ll be eighteen in a few months,” Reilly explained. “I was gonna graduate early, with Aiden... I’m kind of smart.”

Aiden took a surprised glance at Reilly, who had never been more than humble when speaking about himself, and Travis laughed out loud as if Reilly had made a great joke, and even that made Reilly grin.

“I got sick, though,” Reilly explained. “Something in the air was making me sick. Hasn’t been so bad since winter started, so I’m gonna graduate this year. I’m not gonna walk with my class, though. I don’t want to wait that long, and I don’t like anyone, anyway.”

Aiden looked at Reilly oddly again. He’d known the boy didn’t like many of his classmates, but he’d never said as much before.

“I doubt you’ll be missing anything,” Travis remarked. “I never walked with mine, either.”

“Where’d you go to school?” Aiden asked Travis, using the opportunity to attempt to get to know something about him. But, Travis shrugged the question off.

“No place you’d know,” he said, and before anyone could ask him anything else, the Chesley parents peeked out of the kitchen to announce dinner was ready, and invited everyone to serve themselves.

The setting throughout the entire meal was warm, even though Travis seemed to be the only one contributing to conversation with Mr. And Mrs. Chesley as they made an effort to get to know him better and he answered their questions as best as he was willing. “Yeah, I’m living with Ryan Sader... Uh-huh. Working a few jobs right now... This lasagna’s perfect. You make it?... Oh yeah, I’ve got family. Big family. Yep.”

And that’s when Dennis started looking at him suspiciously and Aiden started watching him with interest. Honestly, Travis didn’t care who believed his story about a close-knit family and extended family, the imaginary pit bull-poodle mix named Bubu, or the family vacations at the ocean. Answering questions about a fabricated life always seemed to be easier than telling the truth, and most of the time, he was pretty damn convincing. So of course, he didn’t understand where Dennis got off looking like he was about to move down the table and chew off Travis’s smiling face with his grinding teeth. But then, there was a lot not to understand about Dennis Gordon.

It had been no joke to say that the evening would be awkward--for Dennis. Travis could see right away that Dennis, for the most part, liked the people around him, but these family meals were obviously something he wasn’t accustomed to. He didn’t join in conversation, laugh at jokes or otherwise make his presence known, and Travis was a little put off by the way that Dennis wasn’t invited to. An avid believer that everyone should always have something to contribute to the social experience they found themselves in, Travis was miffed by this. Not towards Dennis, or the Chesleys, or even Dennis. Just in general. It was like the guy wasn’t even at the table, even though they all clearly saw him. It made him wonder what type of setting Dennis was actually comfortable in, because if there was one, he hadn’t seen it yet. As he filled his stomach, Travis tried to place Dennis at a dinner table across from John Gordon, and honestly, he couldn’t really see that, either.

Dinner lasted through dessert, which Travis easily passed up when he started feeling like he’d eaten his fill for the rest of the week. He joined in a card game with Mr. Chesley, Aiden and Reilly, and he helped Mrs. Chesley with the dishes. Sometime before this, Dennis had excused himself to his room. Travis had noticed, but didn’t ask about it, or try to seek Dennis out anymore that night; and by the time it felt late enough to excuse himself, he’d already arranged a ride with Aiden since they both seemed to be going to the same place.

***

Being in the close confines of a warm moving vehicle with a guy hot enough to have a golden ass was not an opportunity that Travis would easily pass up, or one that he wouldn’t make an effort to take further advantage of. But, while driving home with Aiden, he found himself in the inconvenient position of being too full and too lethargic to make half the effort that the situation deserved.

It had been fun to come home for the last few days, knowing that Aiden was still camping out in their living room, and Travis, as Travis did, had made a point to show his interest at any and every opportunity, from creeping up too close behind Aiden when he was getting something out of the refrigerator, to waiting outside the bathroom door in nothing but a towel when he knew Aiden was showering. (He would have walked straight in, but it seemed that their houseguest shared his interest in locked doors.) Travis even politely offered his lap to Aiden just the night before when he’d purposely taken up the entire futon in the living room. He was rebuffed, of course, and Aiden had sat on the floor. But, it hadn’t discouraged Travis in the least, and whether Aiden was willing to admit it or not, Travis fully believed that he was having fun with it, too. Half of this had gone on in front of Ryan, and while he acted mostly clueless, Travis had noticed that his roommate was giving him stranger and stranger looks lately, and something about that also added to his encouragement.

Travis supposed that he’d been treating the entire situation like sport, and he’d been playing it like there was no doubt in his mind that Aiden would cave in sooner or later. Because the way Travis saw it, Aiden would cave. It would be downright unacceptable for him not to. Flirt though he was, it wasn’t every day that Travis went out of his way to show his interest in someone. If he did, it meant that he wanted what he was seeing, and that he’d deemed that interest as worthy of the effort. Such was the case with Aiden Knightly.

“Are you tired?” Travis finally asked as he forced a yawn away.

“I guess so.”

“How tired?”

In the shadows beneath passing streetlights, Aiden pressed his lips and glanced quizzically at his passenger, seeming to wonder if he was about to answer a trick question. “What do you mean?” he finally asked, with just a hint of unsuppressed amusement lacing his voice.

“Well, there’s always room to be... more tired, right?” Travis replied. “I’m just saying, if you’re not there yet, I’d be happy to help.”

“Stop it.”

Travis grinned over at him, his smile widening when he was sure that Aiden was holding back a smile. “Are you sure? I will if you are.”

“Yes. I’m sure.”

Travis sighed. “Never mind. I lied. Can’t stop. It’s your fault.”

“It’s not my fault.”

“Sure it is,” Travis insisted. “You keep saying no.”

Aiden finally laughed, and then sighed as if exasperated. “Look, you’re...”

“Uh, oh,” Travis cut him off. “No conversation ends well that starts like that. So, let’s not talk about what I am. I’ll be quiet now and start hitting on you again tomorrow.”

This time Aiden really laughed, but seemed unwilling to let what he wanted to say drop. “I just got out of a relationship. A long one. I don’t really know how...”

“I’ll show you.”

“That’s not what I mean. I think, I’m not ready to start something else. Sounds stupid, but it still feels like cheating.”

Travis wanted to agree with the stupid part, but had the sense not to as he took a few minutes to think it over, and finally decided that he just didn’t understand what the problem was. But, that was because Aiden was talking to him as if he was trying to start a meaningful relationship when for all intents and purposes, Travis’s interest didn’t reach that far. He liked Aiden, that was enough; and since Travis had no sense of courtship beyond blunt flirtations, he was wise enough to understand that what he was experiencing was lust, just as it always was. Uncomplicated, infatuated, lust.

“Yeah,” he finally said. “I don’t need you chained to my ankle. Just maybe in my room for a while, if you’re into the kinky. I’m usually not, but I’d try it at least once.”

Aiden, who obviously hadn’t been expecting that type of response, stared ahead for a moment, seeming embarrassed or annoyed, and definitely surprised as he took the time to try to understand something that had just transpired. And then, as if he’d figured it out, or perhaps blown it off, he raised an eyebrow at Travis. “So we’ll continue this tomorrow then?” he finally asked, and Travis grinned.

***

Travis watched Mr. Gordon enter the dealership with his usual straight spine and permanent frown as he snapped his cell phone shut like it had somehow offended him before he made a beeline to the desk that Travis was manning.

“Travis! What’s going on with our... project?” Mr. Gordon finished in a lower voice when he realized that one of the maintenance men had come in for a cup of coffee.

“Still working on it,” Travis replied. “Been kind of busy lately.”

Mr. Gordon scoffed. “So you haven’t done a damn thing,” he mumbled. “Idiots, all’a’ya.” He violently clenched his jaw and turned away from the desk. “Can’t rely on anyone.” He suddenly stopped and pointed at Travis. “I want to know what’s going on by tomorrow, boy, or you can start looking for another job!”

“Right, Mr. Gordon,” Travis replied without feeling. His migraine had returned from the day before, so while he felt like telling John Gordon that things were moving slow because his own son was being a chicken shit, he held off in hopes that the old man would go away and let him finish out the rest of his shift in peace. Besides, he really didn’t feel that way about Dennis. He didn’t know how he did feel about Dennis. Part of him wanted to keep pressing the guy to join this fight, when for all purposes of common sense, he knew better. Still, though, Travis hadn’t been very inspired to arrange things with someone else. He figured it should be easy enough, and as soon as he figured out what was holding him back and stuck on Dennis Gordon, he’d probably get things moving.

Meanwhile, he saw potential customers roaming around the lot--a young girl with a new driver’s license who was about to get everything out of her father that she could, if Travis had anything to say about it--and he used it as an excuse to escape the office for a while. After forty minutes, he didn’t make a sell, but he had them coming back with the mother, who apparently had to approve everything.

Travis was on his way back into the lobby, hoping that he could be sharper than he felt if Mr. Gordon decided to drop in on him again, when a familiar reflection in the glass door made him spin around and watch the tall, thin man looking overdressed in a black scarf and clean leather jacket move towards him.

“Hey, what’re you doing here?” Travis asked, pleasantly surprised by the interruption to his day.

“I figured this was the best way to get a hold of you,” Kyle replied.

“Why didn’t you call?” Travis asked, but he was already pulling his phone from his pocket to confirm he hadn’t charged it again, and Kyle flashed him a knowing look. “Never mind. You wanna come in for a while? I’ll buy you lunch from a vending machine. Ham looks okay, but I’d stay away from the tuna.”

Kyle made a face. “That’s sick.”

“You’d be surprised,” Travis replied as he opened the door for his friend. “You haven’t been in here, have you?”

“Nope,” Kyle confirmed, taking a look around the clean lobby. “It’s dead in here.”

“It’s Monday,” Travis said fairly, and then nodded Kyle towards the desk where he started fishing quarters out of his backpack. “What are you up to, anyway?”

“I don’t know. Just wasting time before work, I guess. I might not get to do it much longer. Chris wants to start serving lunch at the club.”

“Huh. So what’s going on tonight? Work?”

“Some. Actually, there’s going to be a barbeque. It would be cool if you showed.”

“Where at?”

“The club,” Kyle replied, and it earned him an odd look from Travis.

“Practice for the new lunch thing?”

“No, nothing like that. It’s just a little get-together, since Nicky’s back in town.”

“Okay. Yeah. I don’t know yet.”

Kyle frowned. “Travis...”

“Travis!” John Gordon suddenly interrupted their conversation as he emerged from his office. His intrusive tone was enough to raise the hair on the back of Kyle’s neck, but when it came to Travis, it was doubtful that his blood pressure bothered to even raise a notch.

“Yes, Mr. Gordon?” Travis asked, still counting quarters.

“What did I tell you about your damn friends coming in here?” Mr. Gordon demanded.

Travis looked up at that. “Nothing, actually,” he replied truthfully, and then gestured to Kyle, who was more than uncomfortable now. “This is the first damn friend who’s come to visit me here, sir. He won’t be staying long.” Instead of counting quarters now, Travis began putting them back into his backpack.

“Yeah, I’m leaving,” Kyle said quickly. “Um, sorry if I...”

“Just don’t let it happen again,” Mr. Gordon snapped. “I’m sick of you damn kids loitering!”

Kyle started moving away from the desk, still taken aback by this treatment and ready to make a quick getaway, but Travis stopped him with a hand on his shoulder as he addressed John Gordon himself. “I’m leaving with him. Got stuff to do. Besides, it’s slow enough for me to go, anyway, don’t you think?”

Mr. Gordon stepped forward angrily. “Boy, if you walk out that door don’t even think about coming back tomorrow.”

Travis flung his backpack over his shoulder and grabbed his friend’s arm to lead him out. “No problem, Mr. Gordon,” he said. “I don’t work tomorrow, anyway.”

“Travis!” Kyle hissed, but Travis didn’t seem to pay any attention to him or Mr. Gordon as they left the dealership together.

“Where’re you parked?” Travis asked.

Kyle looked at him wide-eyed. “Shit. I heard that guy was a prick, but seriously Travis, I don’t know how the hell you put up with all that. It’s okay, though, we’ll go to Chris right now...”

Travis rolled his eyes. “No we won’t. That’s just Mr. Gordon. I’ll be back on Wednesday morning. Sorry he yelled at you, though. We’re still getting lunch, right?”

Kyle was incredulous, but before he could respond, Travis shook his head. “Don’t. And seriously, lunch?”

“Fine, lunch, but...”

“No,” Travis insisted, holding up a finger.

“Trav--”

“No.”

“But you can’t...”

“Eh!”

Kyle released an exasperated breath. “Fuck you.”

“Stop trying to be my mom. It makes you look old.”

“Old?” Kyle demanded, and then punched his shoulder. Hard.

“Ouch!” Travis objected, glancing sideways at Kyle. “You don’t hit like a mom. Hey, have you ever thought about...”

“No.”

“Right. So where are we going for lunch?”

“God, when was the last time you ate?”

“This morning... but last night I had dinner with these people...”

“What people?”

“Chesley. That Reilly kid, Aiden knows them.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Seemed safe enough.

“Lots of food. I think it stretched my stomach or something. I’ve been hungry ever since. We should go somewhere with a lot of food.”

“Fine. While we’re on the topic of food--this barbeque...”

“I told you, I don’t know yet. I’ve got shit to do, you know?”

“No,” Kyle admitted. “I don’t know. But whatever it is... take a night off, alright?”

“I did that last night. I can’t...”

Kyle suddenly stepped in front of Travis, bringing them both to an abrupt halt in the middle of the parking lot. “Take the night off, Travis.”

Travis sighed, and then made a face. “Fine... Mommy.”

***

The shadows cast by dim lighting in The Shadow nightclub made Lacy Chapman feel as if she’d stepped out of day into night when her eyes were forced to readjust after being outside all day. She stood near the entrance for a few minutes, not used to entering when there was no line outside the door or busy servers making their way through the crowds. In fact, she thought as she placed her hands on her hips--successfully mocking a woman on a mission--she’d never seen so much of the club’s floor before.

She was almost uncertain with the lack of activity, as if she’d stepped onto the wrong stage and was being threatened with having to leave, so she felt sneaky when she bypassed the bar and the chatty bartender behind it to slip under the chain blocking the stairs so she could move up them.

Her feet tapped below her with every step, but long heels were to blame for that. Uncomfortable heels, that she swore she was only wearing because she had to--because she really did have to. She had to be--or at least look--as high-maintenance as possible, and since the gallon or so of hair spray her roommate, Heather, had used to keep her curls in place seemed to be working, Lacy figured that her work was done. Besides, she’d already received any necessary second opinions on the matter walking down the street when she caused a group of pimply little boys to almost run into a stopped bus. That had been fun.

She reached the second floor and took a moment to look around. The tables had been pulled out and lights were on, stacks of plates and napkins prepared to be set up. There would be music, but from the looks of it, it wouldn’t be live so as to keep the noise from being intrusive, and since no one with common sense would put a grill in a room full of finished hardwood, she figured the food would be ordered.

Good. Good. It all looked like a grand old time. Fine.

And Nicky Davis was nowhere to be seen. She hadn’t exactly expected him to be there now, but she had to at least check. After leaving her a message about a party--justhaving to mention how much it would mean to him if she was there--while she was conveniently at work and unable to answer...and then avoiding her calls when she was able to call back... well, she just had to check. And that was because Nicky happened to be the only one capable of answering the highly obnoxious question on her mind. What the hell was he up to?

This party was his idea; he’d said as much on the phone. But that was just it, she’d heard from Owen that it was to celebrate Nicky being back in town, and Nicky wasn’t the type to throw himself a party. He wasn’t even the type to throw someone else a party! But he seemed to be doing just that, and everyone seemed to be okay with it. Everyone, Lacy felt, but herself.

She was about to turn around to head downstairs to look, but stopped short when she heard the sound of glasses clicking together in the direction of the small bar. She headed over on her toes, trying to keep her shoes from interrupting the near-silent room, reached the bar, and peered over the counter where she found a tall blond bent straight over as he organized the lower cabinet, and her eyes had a bit of trouble removing themselves from the back pockets of his jeans as she lifted herself onto a soft, leather-capped stool and delicately rested her small chin in her hands. A few more moments of watching, and then she sighed loudly. “I’d know the butt of a Dovan anywhere.”

That butt, and the rest of the man attached to it, didn’t hesitate to become alarmed as he shot up and spun around to look at her. Lacy might have had the decency to blush at the look on his face, but she seemed to be too busy making him blush before he forcibly composed himself and reached for a plastic drink cup. It might have looked natural, if the cup hadn’t been empty when he went to take a drink.

Lacy laughed. “You look just like Owen does when he’s embarrassed.”

“Thanks,” Chris said flatly, and then as he stopped pretending to be perturbed, he smiled at her. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“Then my work here is done,” she announced, lacing her fingers on the counter in front of her.

Chris reached behind him without looking to grab two glasses and a can of coke. He split the can between the two glasses, slid one into her hands and stuck a straw in it.

“Got anything stronger?” Lacy remarked, looking as grumpy as her features would allow.

Chris smirked. “Got any ID?”

She stuck her tongue out at him and took a drink.

“Aren’t you here kinda early?” he asked. “No one else plans to show up until at least six.”

“Yeah... I don’t know if I’m coming.”

“You’re here,” Chris pointed out slowly. “You’re here early. You’re wearing makeup... why are you wearing makeup? Have I ever seen you wear makeup?”

Lacy slapped the counter in front of her like a disgruntled drunk to silence his question, and then leaned forward secretively. “Focus.”

Chris leaned forward, feigning avid curiosity. “On?”

“I’m here early because I was hoping to run into Nicky.”

“Ahh,” Chris said, nodding. “So you’re dressed up for Nicky. He’s lucky. But next time, go without the makeup,” he added with a wink. “You don’t need it.”

Lacy frowned, looking down at herself the best she could. “What? No. This isn’t for Nicky. It’s for Ryan.”

“Oh. But... didn’t you and Ryan break up?”

“Exactly.”

“Exactly?”

“If I’m going to see him tonight, have to look better than he does,” Lacy insisted, like this was supposed to be obvious. “It’s a rule.”

“Oh. Makes perfect sense. Hey, I’m no expert or anything, but I’m pretty sure you could have pulled that off without making all the effort.”

“Right. Whatever.”

Chris frowned at her, unaccustomed to the lack of cheerfulness in the blonde who made a habit of dressing his little brother through half of high school. “Is that why you want to skip tonight?” he asked seriously. “Ryan?”

Lacy huffed a breath and ran a hand over her hair, still not managing to mess it. “It’s stupid, isn’t it?”

“No,” Chris replied carefully. He didn’t make a habit of trying to figure out the right thing to say in these situations. “You don’t want to see him... that’s okay, right?”

“I don’t care if I see him,” Lacy stated. “I just don’t want to see him with a date.”

“Ryan’s bringing a date?”

She shrugged. “It’s something he’d do.”

“But you don’t know for sure?”

“Does it really matter if I know for sure?” she asked, her eyes growing threateningly narrow.

Chris couldn’t help it. He laughed at her. “Sorry,” he remarked. “But bitter doesn’t look right on you.”

“Damn. And here I thought I was just getting good at it.”

Chris shook his head, still smiling. “So are you sticking around?”

Lacy shrugged. “I have to. I want to,” she admitted. “It would probably look strange if I didn’t, anyway. Can’t avoid things forever, right?”

“It would probably be smart not to.”

Lacy looked at him pathetically. “Do you think I’ll get laughed at if I cry when I see him with his date?”

“You won’t cry.”

“Are you just saying that because it freaks you out when girls cry?”

“Could be. But I don’t think you’ll cry. And why don’t you bring a date if it bothers you so much? Ask Nicky. He’ll do it.”

Lacy shook her head. “No he won’t. He’s trying to stay neutral. Ryan’s his friend.”

“Well... I can see that. There’s gotta be someone else, though. Why don’t you think on it for a while. It’s not like you don’t have time.”

Chris turned from the counter in search of a rag to wipe away a few drops of soda, but when he turned back he nearly dropped it as his eyes widened on Lacy. Her expression was thoughtful but severe, her eyes appraisingly on him.

“Oh no,” he said quickly, half laughing, half terrified. “No.”

“It’s just one night,” Lacy responded. “And it was your idea.”

“That is not what I meant,” Chris stated, suddenly looking for anything else that might keep him busy for a few minutes.

“You’re perfect,” she decided.

“It’s not happening. And I’m too old for you. Even if I wanted to help you make Ryan jealous--which, I don’t; he’d never buy it.”

Lacy rolled her eyes. “You’re only--what? Four years older? I’m legal.”

“You’re pushing it.”

“Why? You said I was pretty.”

“I did not...”

“So you don’t think so?” Lacy looked affronted, and Chris started to look at her as if she were pure evil. Good, but evil.

“Lacy.”

She sighed. “I know,” she finally said, letting him off the hook. “I’m just... a little desperate lately, okay? Please don’t tell anyone.”

It took Chris a minute, but he was able to smile again, and even move closer to the counter. Or at least what he considered a safe distance closer. “Hey,” he said. “You’re not desperate... and you’ll be fine tonight.”

***

Okay, Owen thought as he compared his side of the second chair attempted in a week to Dennis’s; obviously, he needed more practice with the sander. Better yet, next time he could let Dennis to the whole thing, since his side of the chair (fortunately, the side used to sit on) was smooth and free of even the smallest dents.

They were in his garage again. The overhead light didn’t provide the brightest light, but having the door closed kept it warm enough to work without their coats.

“It’s not a big thing,” Owen was saying. “Chris told me about it, and it’s not like I can’t go. Nicky asked me. So I have to. It might be in the best-friend handbook...You know?”

Dennis removed the paper from his sander and started running it over a small knot in the leg of the chair before he realized that Owen was waiting for a response. “Yeah.”

Owen sighed. “I don’t wanna go, though. Nicky’s throwing himself a party just to stir up trouble. I mean, Lacy and Ryan alone shouldn’t be in the same room. At least until they stop wanting to kill each other. If I go, I might end up a material witness. That’s reason enough to stay home, right?”

“Um... I guess so,” Dennis said when a response was once again expected. Of course, he really didn’t know anything. Owen just seemed to like it when he agreed with him, and this was a conversation that Dennis couldn’t really add to. But, at least it was a conversation. Talking seemed to be coming easier to them now, especially when they focused most of their attention on their new hobby. A hobby, Dennis reasoned, that seemed to be doing both of them some good when it came to passing otherwise unoccupied time. It was... good. The fact that he was doing it with Owen Dovan... well, it made more sense when he wasn’t thinking about it.

“Not that Nicky doesn’t think he’s doing the right thing,” Owen continued. “He does. I get it, he wants everyone together in the same room for a little while. That means Aiden’s gonna be there.”

Dennis looked up to find that Owen was staring at him... or rather, Owen’s eyes were facing his direction, looking like empty blue glass. It was impossible to tell what he was looking at, because for a moment, he seemed far away, unreachable and lost. It brought strange thoughts to mind for Dennis as he realized that not so long ago, catching Owen Dovan in a moment like this would have been a dream come true. A twisted, cruel dream, but still something he would have liked to have happen. And, if he’d caught Owen in a moment like this back then, he would have cut him down with whatever he could, and he would have been proud of himself. Now, the thought made him sick. He was sure that was supposed to be a good thing, but he still had to take a moment to remind himself of that.

“I see him,” Dennis said. He didn’t know exactly why he was getting involved in this, but he did feel some relief when Owen snapped out of his trance. “When he visits Reilly. He looks miserable. Sometimes. Does that help?”

Owen seemed to study Dennis for a moment, appearing thrown before he suddenly laughed and shook his head. Picking up a loose piece of sandpaper and kneeling down on the other side of the chair, he looked around it and asked, “What else?”

The corner of Dennis’s mouth twitched as he rolled his eyes. “He’s living on... on Ryan’s couch,” he decided, realizing that he didn’t even want to bring up Travis for his own benefit. “And, I heard Reilly saying something about how Aiden had to refund a whole wedding album when he messed up the negatives.”

Owen winced at that. “Shit,” he hissed, not sounding at all happy. “That would’ve pissed him off. He’d probably offer to photograph the next five generations of weddings for that family to make himself feel better.”

Dennis cocked his head, trying not to feel so confused about why Owen looked so sad again. “Hey,” he said carefully. “Aren’t you supposed to be basking in his misery or something?”

For a moment, Dennis thought that Owen was going to take offense, so it was a relief when the blond smiled again, even if it was forced. “I guess I can’t,” he admitted. “I can’t do anything to make him feel better... and I can’t see him tonight. But I still have to go... What’re you doing tonight?”

It didn’t take long for Dennis’s eyes to widen at the insinuated invitation. “No,” he said flatly. “That’s not going to happen.”

“It should be a big enough party to blend into,” Owen replied. “And food. Don’t forget there’ll be good food.”

“Hmm... as much as I hate to pass up an opportunity to piss off all your friends...”

“Come on, things are different now,” Owen insisted, but Dennis shook his head.

“Not so different.”

Owen looked away as he busied his hands sanding their chair. He wanted to argue. He always wanted to argue. Dennis didn’t know if it was because Owen hated the thought of him being right about anything, or because he had something insightful to say. Either likely would have proven interesting, but then the look faded from the blond’s face, and once again, they were just two guys in a closed garage, sanding down a chair.

“But if things could be different,” Owen suddenly said. “And you got really bored tonight, you’d come, right? For shits and giggles. Right?”

Dennis smirked without looking up. “No. Not really.”