The Art of Hero Worship (20 page)

After a full minute, he lifts his mouth from
mine. Our faces are wet and chafed, as are our bodies, but it’s
perfect. “Tell me now,” he utters, and I immediately know what he
wants.

“I love you, Liam, and I’m yours.”

He was right; everything is different now.
I’ve given him full access to my body, and I’m glad.

And just like that, a soft sweet version of
Liam is here. He snuggles down beside me, yawns, and says, “We’re
gonna seriously need showers in the morning, man.” Just when I
think I know Liam, he shows me a facet I’ve never before seen. “And
I love you, too.”

I still see the haunted look on his face,
but it only shows up every now and then since he confided in me
what happened to his sister. And I’m not naïve enough to think his
problem with guilt and regret is suddenly solved because he talked
to me about it, and that years of torturing himself about having
left his sister in the house when it was on fire has miraculously
disappeared, but having it all out in the open has taken away some
of the power yielded by a big bad secret. So I guess I can say that
he’s doing as well as can be expected under the circumstances. But
I wish I could wipe all the pain away for him, I’m not going to
lie.

Classes, as well as our relationship, have
been sailing along rather smoothly, which for some reason makes me
worry, and now it’s Columbus Day weekend. Batcheldor College’s
annual tradition is to welcome back alumni and all past students
for Fall Festival. There’s no shortage of activities on and off
campus, and Liam and I are participating in the pumpkin-carving
contest tonight. We have an awesome idea that involves poking fun
at certain presidential candidates. There’s also a theater exchange
with some other schools where short one-act plays will be performed
in a judged competition at Harrison Theater. Mariah, Ginny’s
freshman year roommate and Liam’s friend from the business program,
is returning to Batcheldor to play her part in last fall’s
production of “Oh, What a Tangled Web.” I’m not yet ready to go
anywhere near that theater, even if Mariah is going to be
there.

Last week, she reached out to both Liam and
me by email, and the three of us settled upon a time Saturday
afternoon to meet between her performances, at College Coffee on
Main Street. This is as close to the theater as I’m willing to
get.

Liam and I are sitting in College Coffee,
staring through its glass walls at the theater across the street,
and I don’t know about Liam, but my mind is near to bursting with a
resurgence of banished fears.

“Why did we agree to meet Mariah
here
of all places? This is a bad idea.” I’m certain of it. I’m not
ready to casually sip coffee in this close proximity to the
Harrison Theater, nor am I prepared to have the
serious
discussion
Mariah has alluded to.

Liam hooks his ankle around mine beneath the
table, which helps me to feel marginally better. “We’ll get through
this, Jase. Just grab a hold of me if you’re freaking out. I’ll be
here for you, ‘kay?”

This is yet another example of what I love
about Liam. He’s dependable and steady. Even when I feel almost
obligated
to worry, he lets me know that I won’t be worrying
alone. “Thanks… hey, look, she’s here.”

We both stand up to greet Mariah, and
automatically reach out to hug her, but she steps away and avoids
the physical contact. “Let’s sit down,” is all she says. And her
voice sounds cold and curt, like she means business.

“We ordered you an iced chai latte, seeing
as that was what you always brought with you to marketing class,”
Liam tells her. “Hope you’re still into chai.”

“It’s fine.” Mariah’s blonde hair is slicked
back in a tight bun and she’s wearing stage makeup that dulls any
softness that would normally show on her pointy face. “I’ve got a
bone to pick with you guys, and I’m here to get it off my
chest.”

My first reaction is surprise, closely
followed by dismay. I’m definitely not in the mood for
picking
bones
with Mariah. Liam and I have had so many ups and downs in
the past six months, all I want is to enjoy some peaceful, happy
times with him and our friends. I thought tonight was going to be a
bittersweet stroll down memory lane, talking about the good times
with Ginny and how much we miss her, but obviously I’m mistaken.
Mariah has never been a person to keep her feelings boxed up inside
of her, especially the negative ones. In fact, I remember Ginny
saying that Mariah could never let any minor problems be swept
under the rug.

“Well, tell us what’s wrong,” I urge,
despite the fact that I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know.

“You guys are like
together
now,
right?” She doesn’t wait for either one of us to reply. “Like
you’re
a couple
?”

Liam answers before I have a chance to. “We
are. Do you have a problem with this, Mariah?” He isn’t
apprehensive about giving her his answer, which seems to surprise
her.

Mariah’s sky blue eyes turn into midnight
blue ones. “Well, yeah, maybe I do.”

“And?” Liam is better than either Mariah or
me at keeping his emotions under wraps. “And what might your
problem with us be?”

She doesn’t hesitate. “How about the fact
that you guys aren’t gay, and two straight guys screwing is
disgusting and sick?”

I choke on a sip of cocoa, and Liam hands me
a napkin but other than that, neither of us respond. I literally
can’t; I’m too busy coughing. But I can tell that Liam is biding
his time, waiting for more. Which he soon gets.

First she glares at me. “Let’s take you,
Jason—you were oh-so-frigging-in-love with Ginny last year…. I
never heard a single word about you being unsure how you felt about
her cuz you were gay!” The volume of Mariah’s voice has risen with
every word. College Coffee is packed with students and all of the
occupants are now staring our way. She shifts her angry gaze to
Liam and even jabs her finger at him across the small table. “And
you and me hooked up at that Marketing Club holiday party at
Jarrod’s place last winter. What the fuck was
that
if you’re
light in your loafers?”

I join Mariah in staring at Liam. He never
told me that anything was going on between them. He glances at me
uncomfortably before responding to her. “That was a one-time thing,
Mariah. You
know
that—we talked about it.”

I’m floored by this revelation, but I don’t
blame him. I don’t think we’re required to confess every detail of
our lives to one another, especially stuff that doesn’t really
matter. And unfortunately for Mariah, I think his hook-up with her
qualifies as inconsequential.

“How do you think it makes me feel to find
out that the guy I was seeing and the guy my best friend was
hoping to marry
are gay for each other? Did you ever stop
and think about that?”

Not only am I feeling somewhat shocked from
learning that Liam and Mariah hooked up last year, but also like a
world class piece of shit, because—
Ginny was hoping to marry
me?
She never mentioned this to me! Of course Mariah is
confused; who wouldn’t be in her shoes? I’m damned confused right
now, too.

Liam doesn’t see this situation in exactly
the same way as Mariah does. “Look, Mariah, we weren’t ‘seeing each
other.’ You and me had too many drinks and went too far at that
party. I’m sorry it happened because we’re friends. But both of us
knew that’s all it was… and as for Ginny and Jason, well, they
were
in love, but Ginny is… she’s gone now.”

“Jason was so in love with Ginny that he’s
fucking a dude
less than six months
after she died in his
arms?”

Mariah’s wrong on that count—Ginny didn’t
die in my arms because I let go of her right when she needed me
most. She died, cold and alone on the floor of the theater. But I’m
smart, and I keep my mouth shut about this detail.

Liam is sufficiently patient to make one
more effort to engage Mariah’s mind in an attempt to help her see
reason. “Think about this for a second, Mariah: Jason and I
survived a
mass shooting
together and then the guy tried to
come and finish us off a couple days later where we were in witness
protection. Thanks to that living hell, the two of us bonded. So
maybe we can’t explain it, not even to ourselves, but now we don’t
wanna be apart.”

“All I can say is, looking at your cozy
little duo from the outside, everybody thinks you guys are mighty
twisted.” She stands up and crosses her arms in front of her. “I
mean,
Jesus
, Liam.…”

She’s really mad at us, and I have no idea
what she wants us to say or do. My head is spinning with images of
Ginny and me—how close we’d once been and how we’d drifted apart as
lovers.
Maybe I was gay all along… maybe my relationship with
Ginny was nothing but a lie…. And maybe Ginny was hurt and angry
because she knew I didn’t feel the same way she did, just like
Mariah is feeling now.
I’m getting a headache from all the
scenarios fighting for a foothold in my brain. I drop my head down
onto my arms that are folded in front of me on the table.

“Liam, come back to my hotel room…
alone
… and we can talk about this misunderstanding. We can
sort it all out.” Mariah’s suggestion sends a spike of pain into my
aching head.

She wants to “sort it all out” with my
boyfriend? What the fuck does that mean?
I stand up, too, and
head for the door, because I can’t just sit here and listen to her
proposition Liam. And then, like an idiot, I trip on absolutely
nothing and nearly knock Mariah onto her ass.

Liam is on his feet in an instant. He grabs
my arm to steady me. “It’s okay Jase… Look, Mariah, there’s nothing
for us to sort out.”

“Liam—Jason just knocked
me
over and
you’re jumping to
his
side?” I knew Mariah for almost a full
year and I never saw this side of her—furious, bitter, and slightly
vicious. “Are you for real? Well, I have an idea. You can actually
answer that question for both of us. If you’re a real man you’ll
take me back to my hotel and prove it.” She winks at me. “I know
how he likes things, Jason…
things
you don’t have, no
offense.”

Sometimes I feel like this
thing
with
Liam simply can’t work. There’s too much going against it. And
maybe Mariah has a point—we aren’t really gay guys. We’re just two
guys… who don’t belong together as a couple.

Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t ignore the
little voice in my head that’s screaming at me, telling me that
somehow
we do
fit together. It may not make sense, but Liam
and I work. Nonetheless, I don’t plan on standing here and
listening to any more of this. In fact, I can’t, because it hurts
too much for too many reasons. I turn around and head for the door,
which brings me face-to-face with the Harrison Theater. I look
through the glass and stare at the building where every scrap of
normalcy in my life was destroyed. But then, it was also the place
where something incredible and precious was born between Liam and
me.

This is all too much. I shudder just once,
but it shakes my entire body visibly, I’m sure. I push the glass
door open and step outside. Standing on the sidewalk, nothing but
the street between the theater and me, I’m soon lost in the
past.

“Come on, Jase. It’s time to go home.”

“Home?”

“Home to my place.” Liam takes me by the arm
as he had when I tripped in the restaurant, whenever that was….
“Don’t worry about Mariah. She was totally off base and I told her
so.”

I let him lead me to his car that is parked
behind the café. “You never told me that you were with her.”

Liam shakes his head. “It was one night. A
mistake I never made again.”

I nod because I think I understand. “Does
she know how you
like things
?” I’m thinking about the way he
dominates me in bed, and I wonder if he did the same to her. I
secretly hope it’s something he has wanted to do only with me,
which I realize is a childish desire. A desire as strange as
everything else going on here.

“No one but you knows how I
like
things
.
I
didn’t even know until the first night I was
with you.” Liam is burly and strong and looks tough in his leather
jacket and spiked hair and heavy boots. It would be easy to believe
that the inner Liam was what he projected on the outside—dangerous.
But that’s not the case. He’s gentle and protective and I need him
now… again… always, I think.

“I just want some ‘normal’ for a while. No
shootings, no family drama, no interfering friends. Just time spent
being… being boring,” I tell him, my voice too whiny.

“You
know
your wish is always my
command.” He laughs and the sound is like a low roar; I place my
hand on his chest so I can feel the rumble. “No pumpkin-carving
contest featuring a round, orange Donald Trump, or wild parties or
drinking beer for us this weekend, man. It’s pizza delivery/movie
weekend. Your fine ass won’t be getting up off my big bed.”