In the Fishbowl - 16. Chapter 16

A/N: Thanks to Jim for editing!

Dennis Gordon held his cell phone between his ear and his shoulder, and when Owen Dovan answered he said, “If you don’t think you’ll succeed at something, you probably won’t.”

“What? Dennis?”

“Yeah. Me,” Dennis replied. “So what do you think that means? It’s kinda cold, right?”

“Um...”

“It was in my fortune cookie,” Dennis explained. “If you don’t think you’ll succeed at something, you probably won’t. Cookies are supposed to make you happy. This isn’t doing it for me. I mean, it is kinda fucked up, isn’t it? Negative. ”

Owen was silent for so long that Dennis looked at his phone to make sure the call hadn’t been dropped, but then he heard what suspiciously sounded like Owen laughing.

“Cookies aren’t supposed to be negative,” Dennis said defensively.

“I’m sorry,” Owen said, sobering. “It’s just... I’ve had the weirdest week. Not the good kind... and I wish I could be mad at the cookie with you, but it’s kinda hard since this is the nicest conversation I’ve had yet. You haven’t been drinking, have you?”

Dennis frowned. “No.”

“Sorry,” Owen said again, as if he’d offended. “You don’t really sound like you.”

“Because I’m pissed off at my dessert?”

“That could be part of it.”

Dennis let out a breath. “Look, just agree that the fortune-cookie elves, or whatever they are, are out to get me and I’ll let you go.”

“Hmm... but, maybe the elves have nothing against you.”

“Huh?”

“Maybe it’s not supposed to be negative,” Owen explained. “Maybe it’s just another way to say... Think positive. Believe you’ll succeed, and you will.”

“Then why doesn’t it just say that?”

“I dunno. It’s a fortune cookie. They’re supposed to be cryptic, aren’t they? What are you doing right now, anyway?”

That was a good question, Dennis thought as he lifted his eyes from the small slip of paper between his fingers where those words he’d found so objectionable were written. What was he doing?

Half-eaten containers of various kinds of Chinese food littered the passenger seat of his car, and his own seat was slid all the way back to leave the room he needed to keep his feet up on the dashboard. The windows were down, venting in the cool air outside, along with the scent of the pines and soaked foliage surrounding the spot where he’d pulled off the road hardly a mile from the Chesleys’ place; a spot that incidentally, looked directly over the house he’d grown up in.

Dennis could see his brother’s car in the driveway, and the group of poor saps his mother had hired to clean out the gutters since Lyle had a fear of heights and Dennis was no longer around to do it for her. Not that he missed it, or any number of chores he’d been thinking about since parking there two hours ago, the whole time wondering what he was doing.

For the last four days, Dennis had felt different. Confused. It was no surprise to him that this had all started with his latest encounter with Travis Beltnick. Of course, Travis hadn’t called him since, which was also no surprise to Dennis. In fact, it was possible that expecting Travis not to call was the very reason why Dennis had allowed things to go as far as they had. So, he wasn’t so much confused by his own actions as much as he felt confused by his feelings. He’d been feeling alone since Travis had walked out of his room the morning after--more than usual, even. He’d been accepting more dinner invitations from the Chesleys, even attempting to join in on their conversations, which he could rarely relate to. But the sense that something was missing had finally pushed him into the self-isolation that had started when he woke up that morning. He’d been avoiding everyone; the closest he’d come to interacting with another individual was when he’d ordered his lunch.

He couldn’t say what had provoked him to stake out his family’s house. At first he’d been disturbed by the idea that he might actually miss them. But maybe a part of him did. He couldn’t name much that he liked about either his mom or his brother at the moment, but at least their irritating, cold company would have felt familiar. Dennis was lacking familiarity. And it was a little unnerving for him when thinking about his family led him to thinking about Travis again. Over the last few days, he was probably most confused when he realized that as far as getting physically involved with another guy went, he wasn’t having much of a reaction to it. That was definitely different. Because really, this wasn’t something he was supposed to be okay with. A lapse in judgment might have explained what he was thinking when it happened, but afterwards, Dennis had expected to at least feel guilt, or disgust, or any number of things that would suggest he had serious regrets. But he hadn’t felt any of that. He hadn’t even had it in him to admit that he was ashamed until he brought his family into the picture.

He’d struggled through bites of his meal, being so close to his mother’s house, and thinking of things that would have been considered forbidden any closer to her front door. It was as if he were close enough to his family for them to know. When he thought about the way he’d let Travis kiss him until he was lightheaded, or the way he’d finally allowed himself to touch Travis, to enjoy the smell of his skin and the way his entire body felt hot to the touch when there were no clothes between them, it was embarrassing. Picturing the disgust on the faces of his family if they were to ever know he’d let down his guard long enough to actually ask for more when Travis had slowed down was frightening to him. And, the strangest part about all of it might have been that Dennis had wanted to call Travis to ask what he thought about all of this. It was the first time Dennis had really even considered calling Travis. Ultimately, he hadn’t, of course. He couldn’t even begin to come up with something that he might say.

But either way, Dennis had grown tired of his six-hour-long isolation, so when the words on his fortune cookie had sent him pathetically over the edge, he’d picked up his phone and called the only person apart from Travis that he could think of. He had no intention of attempting to explain to Owen what he was going through, but just knowing that Owen might understand it made him easy to talk to.

“I’m looking at a house,” Dennis finally answered Owen. “It’s the one my mom lives in.”

Owen was silent for a moment. “You’re at your parents’ house?” he asked, obviously alarmed by the announcement.

“Not really at it,” Dennis replied. “I’m just... looking at it.”

“Are you... alright?”

“I don’t know,” Dennis replied casually. “Would you be? I mean... if your mom suddenly called you and said she wanted to be a family again, what would you do?”

“Did that happen?” Owen asked.

“Kind of. So would you?”

“Dennis, when did...”

“Would you?” Dennis pressed.

“That would never happen,” Owen finally answered, obviously wising up to the fact that this conversation was going to go Dennis’s way, or no way at all. “My mom would never call me. She knew she was giving me up when she watched my dad beat the crap out of me in her kitchen and was more worried about how she was going to get the blood off the floor than about me. See, I didn’t fit into her perfect family when I stopped lying about being gay. She would never call me because I think in her mind, I’d eventually make her look bad. I’m not her family. She doesn’t want me to be... but you and me are a little different when it comes to families, so what happened?”

Dennis shook his head to himself, feeling guilty for even bringing it up now. Maybe Owen felt that they had shitty parents in common; maybe it was even the biggest thing that made them relate to each other. Dennis knew that Owen had had it bad, but he’d never actually made it his business to get the whole story. He hated it when someone else’s problems made him feel like a perpetual bellyacher for mentioning his own.

“It’s a long story. Never mind.”

“You can’t say never mind!” Owen snapped, surprising him. “Forget your fortune cookie--not explainingthat isn’t right. If you don’t want to talk about it, make it a short story.”

“I just… talked to my mom,” Dennis explained. “I didn’t mean to. I guess she said some things that struck a nerve. It’s stupid.”

“Not if you’re spying on her house,” Owen said carefully. “Did she really say she wanted to be a family again?”

“Something like that.”

“Are you thinking about it?” Owen asked, obviously trying hard to sound neutral. It was no secret how he felt about Dennis being anywhere near his family. “I mean, obviously you’re thinking about it... but are you thinking it’s a good idea?”

“No. Not really. Mostly I’m just pissed.”

“Oh.”

Dennis sighed. “I told you it’s stupid.”

“No...”

“I don’t think she had any right to say it,” Dennis suddenly explained. “First she acts like I was wrong for leaving. Like it’s my fault I want nothing to do with them; like that’s actually what’s in her head. And then she acts like it’s my dad’s fault... like now that he’s gone everything can just... just be fine again. Like I never left at all.”

Owen remained silent until he was sure that Dennis wasn’t going to continue. “Is she right?” he asked. “Would it be okay with your dad out of the picture?”

“You’ve met my mom, right? My brother?”

“That doesn’t mean I know how you feel about them,” Owen pointed out. “I doubt you called just to listen to me insult your family.”

“Why not?” Dennis remarked, causing Owen to laugh again. “It wasn’t just my dad. It was everything... a lot of things. I guess now I’m thinking that she was right in the first place.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe it’s not all my fault for leaving. But, when I did leave, I didn’t exactly stick around to let them know why.”

“Did they give you a chance to?”

Dennis frowned, not sure he wanted to think that over. “I don’t know. But I don’t want things to go back to the way they were before.”

“But, are you thinking about going back? I mean, starting over and all that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Hey... do you want company or something? Maybe I could meet you and we can talk...”

Dennis didn’t hear the rest of what Owen was saying. Not because he wasn’t paying attention. Really, he could predict what Owen was going to say to him, and he would have agreed to having company quickly. But he found it difficult to do that when he was otherwise preoccupied by the sudden thumps on the roof of his car; so forceful that they shook the vehicle and had him jumping.

Dennis’s head hit the ceiling as his feet fell from the dashboard. He cursed as he knocked over his drink and it spilled over his lap and the car floor, and in a terrifying moment, he lost the breath to scream when two hands were suddenly in his vehicle, forceful enough to pull him halfway through the driver’s-side window. His green eyes shot up, wide and startled, only to narrow as they met the face of his brother, who was much more amused by all of this than Dennis was.

“Asshole!” Dennis cursed, placing his hands on Lyle’s chest to push him off long enough to slide back through the window. Dennis had just enough time to bring the phone back to his ear and tell Owen, “Gotta go,” before he hung up and the door was opening, which he shot out of before Lyle had the opportunity to pull him out.

“What are you doing?” Lyle asked, still laughing. “Are you spying on us?”

“No, I was having lunch,” Dennis said quickly, and then glaring towards the mess in his car, reached back into it to make an attempt at picking up some of the ice that had spilled from the cup. But, not without looking back over his shoulder. “Why do you have to be such a dick?” And what a good questionthat was for his brother, he thought, wondering why it had never occurred to him to ask before.

“Not my fault that’s what I’m made up of,” Lyle remarked proudly, making a rude gesture at his crotch.

Right. That’s why Dennis had never asked before.

“You’re an idiot,” Dennis informed him.

“Watch it, Dennis. Mom’s not gonna show up to save your ass this time,” Lyle warned.

And he’s not drunk this time, Dennis noted as he sized his brother up. “Go home, Lyle. I’m leaving.” But, he only had one foot in his car before Lyle’s arm was suddenly around his shoulders, pulling him back.

“Whoa, hold on a minute. You haven’t explained what you’re doing,” Lyle pointed out as he pulled Dennis in front of the car, where the view of their house was the best. “Just having lunch, huh?”

Dennis only glanced at the house before his eyes found the ground and stayed there while his jaw clenched as it always had when he had nothing worthwhile to say to his brother. And, like so many other times when he felt that Lyle had tortured him, his breath became short and his nostrils flared. For Lyle, these signs of distress coming from his brother were only an indication that he was in charge, just the way he liked it.

“Come on now,” Lyle baited him, unable to hide his laughter. “Don’t go cryin’ on me, pussy. What’s the matter? Miss us that much?”

Dennis flinched, and a sudden burst of anger had him shoving his brother away. But, he didn’t make a dash for his car as he might have expected himself to do. It would have been pointless, anyway, especially since he was in no mood for another violent altercation with his brother. So he stood there staring at the house while the workers that had previously been on the roof packed up their truck and left, and his eyes drifted to a window on the second floor that he remembered standing behind with Lyle during lightning storms when they were younger. Lyle would dare him to touch the glass, and the moment he did it to prove himself his mother would just happen to appear, right on time to send him to his room for being an idiot. And he didn’t have to be inside to see it. Walking upstairs after a football game the first year he’d made the team. Outside of the house, he’d been a hero, credited for leading his team into a winning streak. Inside he was anything but, his father’s heavy footsteps hounding his every move, pointing out flaws in his technique and reminding him that he’d never be good enough.

And it had always been like that. He’d been as trapped in that house as he felt now with his brother standing behind him. Only now, he wasn’t going to stand there and wait for someone like Lyle to tear him to shreds. Lyle seemed to want his attention, so Dennis gave it to him.

“Why do you still live here?” Dennis suddenly asked. “When you moved away you said it was the best thing you ever did.”

Lyle stepped closer to his brother, and for no apparent reason, slapped Dennis on the back of the head. He obviously became irritated with something about that question, but it didn’t stop him from answering when Dennis wisely gave no reaction to the minor assault. “Maybe I changed my mind.”

“Changed your mind? You’re living with Mom. She’s gotta be driving you crazy, and I don’t get it. First you’re acting like you want me to make her happy, and then you’re rubbing it in my face that you’re not even happy with what she’s doing, marrying this guy. So why do you care if I don’t...”

“Because,” Lyle said irritably, “if I stick around it annoys him. Plus, you can’t beat the rent. And you’re gonna make her happy because if you do, she’ll listen to you when you tell her to dump this dumb shit.”

Dennis spun around at that. “First, I don’t plan on getting to know him well enough to tell her what I think of him, and second... you’ve lost it if you think she’d listen to me, anyway.”

“Oh yes she will,” Lyle said firmly, in a tone that reminded Dennis entirely too much of his father. He wasn’t sure where the thought came from, but he was suddenly praying that all the drug use had made Lyle sterile; the guy shouldnever have kids. “She’ll listen, because like I tried to tell you before, she’s feeling bad about not being able to keep the family together now that you and Dad are gone. This guy’s just in the picture because she knows the family will approve, but once you start coming around again, she won’t give a damn about him. So, yeah, I want you to give her exactly what she wants.”

Dennis stared at his brother, unable to keep himself from taking all of this to heart and contemplating how on earth he’d be able to function if he let even half of his family back in. He could see it: at first, dinners twice a week before more demands were made on him, slowly pulling away from any independence he’d created for himself until all that was left was what they wanted. His stomach churned and his muscles ached just thinking about it, and yet at the moment, he felt too afraid of something to just bluntly tell his brother to fuck off. So Dennis shook his head until he finally got out his next weak-sounding words. “I can’t.”

And for that, Lyle sneered at him. “You’re the most selfish asshole I know. Everything has to be about you, doesn’t it? You might have our parents giving up on you but don’t think for a second I’m gonna put up with....” Lyle stopped suddenly. Dennis didn’t know why, but he was glad for it. He could feel the tension growing around them, and there was no way he wanted to find out what would happen if it boiled over. Maybe that wouldn’t happen now that Lyle’s attention was focused elsewhere as he looked down the hill, towards the house. “Hey--I know that son-of-a-bitch. What the fuck is he doing?”

Unaware of anyone else’s presence, Dennis decided to look, and his eyes widened at who he found Lyle watching. Dennis knew him, too.

Dennis was fairly certain that there was no good reason why Travis would be walking towards his old house, but then again, Dennis wasn’t sure if Travis ever had a good reason to do anything. He supposed that didn’t matter, though. The fact was, Travis was there, walking towards the front door like he knew exactly why. As he looked Travis over, Dennis would have liked to be enlightened.

From the distance, it looked like Travis had trimmed his hair. Or, maybe it just seemed that way with his sunglasses on the top of his head, pulling it back. He was wearing a simple t-shirt with his jeans, despite the chill in the air, and instead of the usual backpack over his shoulders he carried what looked like a brown lunch sack in his hand, and all of this made him look different to Dennis. Or, maybe something else made him seem different, Dennis thought, which was a source of stress all on its own. The fact that Lyle was still there watching Travis’s every move--could call out to him at any moment--brought back Dennis’s instincts to flee. And yet, he was compelled to watch, which pretty much had everything to do with the way that Travis came to a stop in front of the front porch, lifted a lighter from his pocket, and ignited the brown bag he’d been carrying.

Dennis’s lips parted, but no words he could come up with could possibly describe his disbelief over the burning bag on his mother’s front steps a moment later, which had split upon impact, and he didn’t have to guess what the brown mush that had escaped from it was.

Dennis glanced at Lyle just in time to see his brother’s face go red. “Hey!” Lyle screamed.

Travis turned suddenly, obviously startled as he looked up the hill. By then, Dennis was already headed to his car, but he wasn’t so far away that he didn’t see Travis wave at Lyle just before he took off running; a good idea, since Lyle was already after him, sliding to the bottom of his hill on the balls of his feet where he paused, seeming torn between hunting Travis down and putting out the flames. Common sense sent Lyle in the direction of the house, but left him when he bypassed the garden hose and attempted to stomp the small fire out, cursing loudly as feces large enough to come from a cow covered his sneakers. He looked up, fit to kill now, and decided he’d do just that when he noticed that Travis had paused at the end of the driveway to watch, only bothering to take off again when Lyle forgot about the shit on his shoes long enough to go after him.

At the top in the hill, Dennis was already in his car, had his key turned in the ignition, and had paused for a moment of reflection. He found himself... strangely amused. Not so much that he’d laugh outright. He was too out of practice for that; but there was certainly an unfamiliar feeling of laughter bubbling right below the surface. He had no idea what had just happened, but he was almost blindly pleased by it before he came to his senses and realized that he’d just been given the opportunity to escape his brother. He’d backed out to the street before it occurred to him that Travis was more in need of an escape than he was.

Dennis wanted to rescue Travis. However strange the thought was, Dennis didn’t take time to think it over as he chose to turn down the winding road instead of heading back to the safety of the Chesleys’. He figured it wouldn’t be too hard to pick Travis up. Sure, there was always the chance that Lyle would see him and it would cause more trouble later, but as always, Dennis felt a little braver when he had more than a few feet of breathing room away from his family.

He turned a corner, expecting to see Travis round the corner away from the Gordons’ driveway at any moment, and even if Travis decided to head through the woods, Dennis figured he’d have enough time to get his attention before he disappeared. But, hitting his brakes, Dennis stopped looking for Travis altogether as another vehicle on the road ahead of him caught his attention.

Dennis recognized the vehicle immediately; it was one of a few that his father often used for errands, and it was pulled over not far from Dennis’s old driveway. As he watched, he suddenly felt discouraged and hopeful all at the same time, crossing his fingers that he wouldn’t see what he knew that he would.

Unfortunately, as far as Dennis was concerned, when he did finally spot Travis, it was as the guy climbed into John Gordon’s vehicle. It was disappointing for reasons he couldn’t begin to explain. What Travis had apparently just done for Dennis’s father was stupid, and dangerous--nothing that a normal person might think of. And maybe, a little less funny than it had been when Dennis thought that Travis’s prank might have been for him.

Idiot, Dennis cursed himself as he quickly backed into a neighbor’s driveway, not wanting his father to see him as the other vehicle turned around. And he was confused all over again. But not nearly as confused as he felt when his father’s vehicle passed, and Travis’s window was facing his car.

Past Travis, Dennis caught sight of his father in a position that Dennis hadn’t witnessed for what felt like ages. The man was laughing. Almost hysterically even as he reached over to roughly pat Travis on the shoulder. But when it came to Travis, he didn’t look nearly as pleased with himself as Dennis expected him to. There was no satisfaction or amusement to be found anywhere over his features. What there was, was frustration, and maybe a little exhaustion, too, and then surprise when he happened to look out his window and make eye contact with Dennis.

Travis sat up in his seat while he lifted the palm of his hand to touch the glass, and then he was gone as John Gordon’s car disappeared down the winding road.

***

It was a slow night, even for a bar that was already halfway to bankrupt. From where he sat on the world’s most uncomfortable barstool, Travis looked across the room where his eyes fell on a round table surrounded by three men and two women, who seemed more interested in drinking and laughing than on their game of poker. He would have liked to join them.

Poker wasn’t really his game, but losing the last fifty dollars in his pocket sounded like a great idea compared to staying where he was. His attention turned to his phone when he felt it vibrating in his pocket, and he wasn’t surprised when Kyle’s number showed up. It was probably the sixth time that day, but just as he’d done previously, Travis didn’t answer it. He’d call later, when he’d have a better opportunity to talk. Besides, he wanted to talk to his friend, if only because he hadn’t heard from Kyle in nearly a week, not since before he’d left town for his birthday. It was unusual, and he hoped that Kyle wasn’t still angry over the last time they spoke.

And speaking of angry... Travis sighed as he scrolled through his phone’s contact list until he came to Dennis’s number. It was tempting enough to push the talk button. He’d been meaning to. It just hadn’t happened yet. Hoping that Dennis would call him... as of this afternoon, he figured that was out of the question. Maybe Travis didn’t think he owed it to Dennis to explain why he was seen with John Gordon, but he figured Dennis would like it. That made him consider it. Of course, he had a reason for not pushing the talk button on his phone just then. The same reason that had kept it from him all day.

He frowned at the loud belch coming from the right of him, and turned his attention back to Mr. Gordon in time to watch the man chase another shot of vodka down with a few swallows of beer, which he dribbled down his cheek and then laughed about it. He pushed one of the several beer bottles in front of them closer to Travis and nodded.

“You’re not gonna catch up to me anytime soon,” he remarked.

“Probably not,” Travis agreed. He’d only sipped down half of a bottle, only to appease Mr. Gordon nearly an hour ago, and it was already churning in his stomach. “Maybe you should drink it for me.” He glanced at the bartender before leaning closer to his older company. “I’m not even legal, remember?” Not that it mattered to him. Travis just hoped that if he reminded the old man enough times it would start to matter to him. At least that way, he’d stop buying Travis drinks... and stop drinking them himself when Travis refused.

“Don’t be such a pussy,” John Gordon responded, even as he helped himself to Travis’s drink, and then he laughed again, clumsily gripping Travis’s shoulder and giving it a shake. “This is good... we’re having lots of fun!”

“We’re drunk,” Travis remarked. The we, of course, being Mr. Gordon and the invisible friend he started talking to every time Travis stopped paying attention. Just like he stopped paying attention when Mr. Gordon started acting as if Travis had made a joke.

Travis was becoming impatient with the situation, and quite frankly, bored. He allowed Mr. Gordon to finish two more drinks before he finally insisted that it was time to go. First, Travis reminded the man that they had to work in the morning, but when it didn’t work he stood by and let Mr. Gordon make an ass of himself when he stumbled across the room to ask a woman with a bad haircut to dance. She was either as intoxicated as he was, or just desperate, since she agreed. The dancing lasted as long as it took John Gordon to throw up on her shoes, an event that somehow provoked a small scuffle with another old man all the way across the room and could have been worse if Travis hadn’t been there to intervene. By then Travis really had been in the mood to fight, so it seemed to be a miracle when he solved the problem by picking Mr. Gordon’s pocket and offering to pay for the other guy’s next round of drinks.

The trip through the parking lot was an interesting one; Travis didn’t consider himself a half-pint by any means. He was taller and stronger than most of the people he knew, so it was a little strange being reminded of just how big Mr. Gordon was. Most was accounted for his height, but he certainly seemed a lot heavier than he looked when his drunken clumsiness had him falling into Travis every other step.

Mr. Gordon had more objections when Travis told him to hand over his car keys, but Travis solved the problem by picking the older man’s pocket again. He was almost sure that Mr. Gordon had taken a swing at him for that, but it would have been a little difficult to prove since all the old man did was lift up a fist before stumbling backwards into the passenger seat. Only minutes later, Mr. Gordon was buckled in and passed out. Travis didn’t feel like trying to follow the old man’s attempt at directions to whatever apartment complex he was living in, so he didn’t even bother to ask as he made himself comfortable in the driver’s seat and took Mr. Gordon to the next best place he could think of: the man’s office at the car dealership. By then John was no longer protesting about anything, and Travis wasted no time getting out of there as soon as his boss had dropped down on a small, uncomfortable sofa.

Outside, Travis paused when he realized that he still had the car keys, but giving no real thought to the matter, he shrugged it off and headed back to the car. After the day he’d had, he didn’t see why he should have to walk all the way home, and decided to temporarily forget that the buses didn’t stop running for another two hours.

Free of the burden that was Mr. Gordon, Travis found his mood improving quickly. His previous plan to go home and close his eyes for a few hours diminished, and quite frankly, he found having a car to drive around exceptionally convenient. He changed all the radio stations, played with the sun roof, and flipped off the first person who cut him off at a stop light because it seemed like the thing to do. He drove home for a quick shower, but had no intention of staying.

He wouldn’t have had any fun there, anyway.

Aiden had stopped speaking to him days ago, and not in the cute way, either. He was obviously angry that Travis had left with Owen days ago, and really, Aiden being upset about it wasn’t something Travis understood. He really had been trying to help. It was just too bad that when he tried to help, people assumed that he was sleeping with their ex-boyfriends. It certainly couldn’t be his fault that they jumped to the wrong conclusions. Or course, not bothering to correct some of those assumptions out of both personal amusement and spite over feeling insulted--that might have been his fault. But, whatever. Aiden wasn’t around to glare at him, anyway.

The apartment was empty, which was the easiest excuse for Travis to use when it came to why he’d stripped completely down by the time he even made it to his room. For some reason, he felt rushed to take his shower and get going again. Probably because his day had been wasted and the night was just beginning. But, he put it all on hold for a moment as soon as he realized that someone had been in his room.

It was only a small difference from how he’d left it, but Travis quickly picked out the two envelopes that had been left on his bed and went to them quickly. Aiden always left his mail on the kitchen table, so this wasn’t it. But, even if he was disturbed by his mystery visitor, it only lasted until Travis opened the first envelope and grinned at what he found inside before he brought the slip of paper to his lips and kissed the last paycheck he’d receive from the video store. He’d been wondering when he’d get that. The fact that he needed it only added to his satisfaction to find it in his hands. Obviously, Lacy had paid him a visit, and he’d make a point to thank her when he saw her again.

The second envelope, however, he wasn’t as thrilled to see. It wasn’t what he knew he’d find in it, though he was really thrilled to find that waiting for him. But, what bothered him most as he picked it up to look it over was that someone had obviously opened it. The clear tape sealing it all back together was a dead giveaway. He would have loved to think it was accidental, that it had arrived that way, but as far as he was aware, the post office stamped mail that had been opened before they sent it out. This made him nervous, and he decided that he’d be asking Lacy about it as soon as he saw her. But, he also pushed the feeling aside for the time being. It was the last thing he wanted to stress over. Tonight, anyway.

***

Travis realized that having a car was convenient, at least, up until he was required to park it. Near the nightclub was especially difficult. It looked like a busy night, and while there was a parking lot not far off, he didn’t especially like the looks of the kids weaving in and out of parked vehicles on their roller blades and bicycles. That left the street, where he had to wait for a place to open up.

After circling the block a few times, he waited at the end of the street, where he could see anything that might be opening up in front of him. He also pretended not to notice that he was blocking traffic, but his tactics paid off because as soon as a minivan moved, he drove right in, just about as close to the club as he could get. He hardly had his borrowed vehicle in park before he happened to look out the passenger window, and paused when he found Owen Dovan looking back at him from where he was standing on the sidewalk.

Travis sighed as he broke eye contact to get out of the car, and knowing full well that the youngest Dovan brother had already seen him, walked around to say hello. Except, he didn’t exactly say hello. He stopped in front of Owen and stood there, leaving the next step up to the blond.

Travis hadn’t seen Owen since he’d shown up at the apartment looking ready to strangle someone. He was under the impression that Owen was just as angry with him as Aiden was, if the long, painfully silent ride Owen had given him to the dealership four mornings ago was any indication. Travis had done his best to lighten Owen’s mood. It would have been impossible for him not to try at the time; he’d been convinced that nothing at all could go wrong with his morning. But, each time he opened his mouth, Owen had greeted him with the same thing: Please, just shut up. So he had, which was why he couldn’t help wonder if the sound of his voice would irritate Owen Dovan as much as before.

Owen seemed to be considering the same exact thing, so Travis found it was in his best interest to make an effort at being patient. That wasn’t exactly what he was best at, so it was a relief when Owen let him off the hook early, and smiled.

“Hi.”

Travis ginned. “You look better. Are you?”

“No. But I’m willing to pretend I didn’t act like a complete asshole the other day.”

“That’s generous of you.”

Owen laughed, and then nodded towards the club. “Are you going in?”

“Yeah. Thought I’d track down Kyle,” Travis explained. “He’s been trying to call me all day, but now he’s not answering his phone.”

“Kyle? You won’t find him in there,” Owen said.

“You know where he is?”

“Out with my brother somewhere. I think they went to a party one of Chris’s friends are throwing.”

Travis frowned. “Oh.” He suddenly wished that he’d tried to find time away from Mr. Gordon to talk to Kyle earlier. Not really because he was interested in being invited to a party, but because it was beginning to feel strange, having not spoken to his friend all week.

“So are you still going in?” Owen asked.

“I don’t know. Are you?”

Owen shrugged. “I’m waiting for Dennis to show up, then... who knows.”

Travis’s brow arched. “You got Dennis to come here?”

Owen smirked. “Not really. He won’t go in. Already said so... something about a headache. We’ll probably see a movie or something. You wanna come?”

“I get an invitation?” Travis asked, more genuinely surprised than sarcastic.

“I guess so.”

Travis thought it over, looking a little bewildered. When he didn’t say anything, Owen added, “Listen, if you’re upset about the other day, I’m sorry about...”

“No,” Travis said quickly. “I was just thinking... I can’t even remember the last time I watched a movie.”

“So you’ll come?” Owen asked.

There was more to think about. Travis wasn’t much for sitting still for long periods of time, but dropping in on Dennis Gordon didn’t exactly sound like a terrible idea. Dennis might not like it, though... so it was a good thing that wasn’t a concern for Travis.

“When’s Dennis getting here?” he asked.

“Um...” Owen stopped short of answering to nod his head, signaling for Travis to turn around, which Travis promptly did.

Dennis wasn’t standing directly behind him as Travis nearly expected, but he was very visible, and obviously entirely focused--not on the two familiar faces waiting for him on the sidewalk--but on what was parked in front of them.

Travis frowned, approaching Dennis as he speculatively looked over the vehicle Travis had just parked. “Hey. He’s not here,” Travis said. “Just me.”

Dennis turned his head, looking surprised to see him. “Just you?” he repeated, a severe amount of annoyance in his voice.

“I borrowed it,” Travis continued to explain.

“What’s going on?” Owen asked, approaching them.

Neither of them answered Owen, but the following conversation did lend him a clue.

“You just borrowed my dad’s car?” Dennis demanded.

“Well, I didn’t ask first, if that’s what you mean,” Travis replied. “But don’t worry, I’m pretty sure he was too wasted to notice it missing.”

“What?” Dennis shook his head in a botched attempt to clear it. “You don’t even know how to drive!”

Travis’s lip curled up in amusement. “Actually, I think all I ever said to you was that I don’t have a driver’s license. I can drive just fine. And, if that surprises you, I think I should be a little bit insulted,” he finished, crossing his arms.

Dennis narrowed his eyes, while next to him, Owen was regarding John Gordon’s vehicle with renewed interest. “I don’t get how the two of you can be friends when you work for his dad,” he said to Travis.

“Who said we were friends?” Dennis remarked, and Travis regarded him with a strange expression, as if he didn’t know if he should laugh or be hurt.

“Should we talk about why you’re so pissed off, or are you going to drop it so we can go see a movie?” Travis asked, and the question turned Dennis’s accusing glare at Owen.

Owen shrugged. “I asked him if he wanted to go.”

Dennis looked between them for a few moments, obviously uncomfortable, but too thrown by the turn of events to do anything about it, so finally he just pointed at his father’s vehicle and announced, “I’m not riding in that.”

“Excellent,” Travis said, grinning. “I’ll follow you, then.”