The Troll Whisperer (11 page)

“Leave what alone?” Noah asked, despairing.
“I don’t understand. Just tell me what I did wrong.”

Oscar found his shirt and pulled it on.
“Where are my pants?”

Noah snatched them off the ground. “I’m not
giving them back until you tell me why you’re acting like
this.”

Oscar let out a roar of frustration. He
stopped for a minute to breathe. “Fine,” he said when he’d calmed
down. “You’re right about the tattoos. They all mean something, and
it’s very personal. Some really fucked up shit happened to me when
I came out, and I don’t like talking about it.”

Noah’s eyes grew wide. Oscar could tell he
wanted to ask a question, but he bit it back. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“I didn’t know.”

Oscar strode forward and swiped his pants
from Noah’s grip. “Well, now you do.” He put on his pants. When he
was dressed, he headed for the door.

“Don’t forget your laundry,” Noah said
weakly.

Oscar turned back around. Noah looked
absolutely pitiful. He looked like he’d just seen someone murder a
puppy. Oscar sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I overreacted.”

Noah laughed a little. “No, it’s my fault.
It’s just that I want to know you, you know?”

That was a terrible idea for so many reasons.
“Yeah,” he said noncommittally.

Noah walked over to Oscar and put his arms
around Oscar’s shoulders. “I was going to make us dinner. What are
you in the mood for?”

Oscar ducked out of the embrace. “I’m still
going to head out. Don’t you have finals on Monday?”

“It’s just the one. I took the others last
week.” That despairing look was back on his face. “Now that summer
session is over for me, I’ll have more free time. We can see each
other more.”

But they already saw each other at least
twice a week. This was getting out of control. “I’ll text you,” he
mumbled. He picked up his laundry and left.

Once he got back to his room, he set the
laundry down and immediately went to his computer. While it booted
up, he tried to think of some trolling to do; that usually made him
feel better when he was in a bad mood. But not a single one of his
usual targets seemed appealing. Instead, he searched for Lord of
the Rings quotes until he found the poem about the tree of Gondor.
It talked about wanderers, and the promise of hope and rebirth—

He shut the laptop with a clap. It was a dumb
quote— at least in regards to him. He’d gotten that tattoo in a
brief moment of delusion that there was hope for him. Who the hell
was he kidding?

He reached for his bong and was about to take
a toke when his phone rang. That was weird, he usually texted with
both Jeremy and Noah. He picked it up to see who it was and let out
a groan. It was his older sister, Alex. She had been pestering him
all week. He let it go to voicemail. Two minutes later, he got a
text. He didn’t look at it. Another five minutes and there was
another text. Then another.

He could turn off his phone, but she clearly
was not going to leave him alone. Sure enough, when he looked at
the phone, the latest message was:

If you don’t respond to me, I swear to
Christ I will show up on your doorstep.

He took a deep, long hit from his bong. Once
he stopped coughing, he called her back. “What do you want?”

“What do you think I want?” Alex sounded
apoplectic. “I have been trying to get a hold of you for the last
week, and you keep brushing me off! Are you coming to dinner next
Saturday or not?”

“Is it that important?”

“Considering that you have yet to meet the
man I’m going to marry, and we’re only going to be here for the
weekend before we head back to Massachusetts, which makes this your
last chance to meet him before the wedding, I’d say, yes, it is
pretty goddamn important! Besides, do you remember the last time
you went to see Mom? Or Sophia, or Stephanie, or Nikki?” When Oscar
didn’t give her an answer, she supplied it for him. “Christmas.
That’s when. They miss you.”

“How about Dad?” Oscar sneered. “Does he miss
me, too?”

There was a very brief pause. “Yes, of course
he does,” Alex said. Her tone softened. “Come on, Oscar. I miss
you, too. It’s been over a year since I’ve seen you, and I don’t
know when I’ll get the chance to come home again.”

Oscar heaved a great sigh. “Yeah. Sure.
Whatever.”

He heard Alex sighing, too. “Not exactly the
enthusiasm I had hoped for, but I’ll take it. Dinner’s next
Saturday at six. Don’t be late.”

“Cool,” Oscar said, although it definitely
wasn’t. “See you then.”

They hung up. Oscar took another hit on his
bong, then wandered into the kitchen for a beer. He had no plans to
face this night sober.

CHAPTER FIVE

Oscar ducked out of his usual Tuesday date
with Noah. He said he had plans with Jeremy. That was a lie, but
then he decided that it would be an even better cover story if he
actually did have plans with Jeremy. He should have contacted
Jeremy earlier, but he didn’t know what to say. Jeremy had switched
shifts to graveyard, so he didn’t see him at work anymore. They
were close, but the kind of close where you didn’t talk about your
feelings. Ever. Was he going into rehab? What would that mean for
their friendship? They spent almost all of their time together at
that stupid bar. Would Jeremy getting sober mean he’d lose him?

Jeremy responded immediately after Oscar
texted him. He suggested they meet at the Downspout Diner; they
often met there for hangover food. When he entered the restaurant,
he really shouldn’t have been surprised to see Crystal there, yet
he was. They waved him over to the booth where they’d already been
seated. A basket of onion rings was on the table. Jeremy had a
soda, and Crystal had a cup of coffee.

“Hey, Oscar,” Jeremy said with a weak
smile.

Crystal smiled and gave a little wave. “Good
to see you again.”

Oscar eyed her suspiciously as he sat down
across from them; he still didn’t know how he felt about her.

Nobody said anything for a few minutes. The
waitress came by and offered to bring Oscar a drink. When she left,
Jeremy reached into his pocket and placed a silver coin in the
middle of the table. “It’s my first sobriety chip.”

Oscar waited for Crystal to say something,
like how Oscar should be proud of him or some such shit, but she
said nothing. She sipped her coffee, managing to somehow not be
involved. She didn’t have that nervousness a third party usually
had when in the middle of a private conversation. She was just…
there.

“Great,” Oscar said. “That’s… really great.”
He kept his gaze fixed firmly on the salt and pepper shakers. “So,
uh, how many days have you been… you know?”

“Ten.” Jeremy laughed a little. “God, that
sounds pathetic. It’s just been ten days, and I’m already falling
apart.”

Oscar forced himself to look at Jeremy. “You
don’t look like you’re falling apart.” Which was true, sort of.
Jeremy always looked kind of busted, but he didn’t look any worse
than usual.

Jeremy laughed a little. “Yeah, well, I am.
Have been for a while now.”

More silence. Jeremy took a paper napkin and
began to rip it into tiny pieces.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Jeremy eventually
asked, his gaze still focused on the napkin.

Oscar ran a hand over his face. “I didn’t
know what to say, man.”

“How about anything?” Jeremy said, suddenly
furious. “Anything at all! I get one text from you, and then you
just drop off the face of the earth?”

“Christ, Jeremy, it’s only been eleven
days.”

“Yeah, and I’ve been out from work that
entire time while I go through detox. I’m on medical leave. Do you
even care?”

Oscar was stunned for a moment, but that
feeling quickly morphed into anger. “How the fuck was I supposed to
know that? We work different shifts now!”

Jeremy blinked. “No one told you?”

“No, because I’ll bet that everyone assumed
that I already knew, because you’re my friend, and
you should
have told me
!” He gestured at Crystal. “Or you could have had
your new not-girlfriend give me a call. She pretty much talks for
you right now, anyway.”

Jeremy stood up. The little bits of paper
floated off the table like ash. “I need a smoke.” He stormed
off.

As soon as he was gone, Oscar rounded on
Crystal. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he snarled. “This is
none of your goddamn business.”

Crystal took another sage sip of her coffee.
Oscar wanted to grab that stupid mug and smash it; he bet that
would get a reaction out of her. “I’m here because Jeremy asked me
to come,” she said. “He’s afraid.”

Oscar laughed. “Afraid of me? What for?”

“He’s afraid he’s going to lose you over
this.”

Oscar got very quiet. Of course, he had been
thinking the same thing, but he wasn’t about to admit that to
Crystal. “Well, he’s not.”

Crystal didn’t say anything to that. “Would
you like an onion ring? I think these are the best in the
city.”

“I know how good the onion rings are,” Oscar
snapped. “I come here all the fucking time.” He took one and
munched on it angrily.

The waitress brought Oscar’s soda. By that
time, he had composed himself a little more. Jeremy was taking a
long time. He guessed he was stuck with Crystal a little longer.
“So what made you get sober?” he asked. “Did you have some perfect
Zen master like you to usher you into it?”

She smiled. “Not really. I had an
epiphany.”

“What do you mean?”

She put down her coffee mug. “Well, one night
I woke up after a real bender. I’d been tweaking for days; you
crash after that, and it’s pretty intense. I was lying on the floor
in this condemned house I was squatting in. Usually, I’d either be
thinking about all the terrible things I’d done to get that high,
or all the terrible things I’d do to get to the next one, or the
terrible things that happened to me as a kid. But that day was
different. I was stuck solely in the present moment. Granted, it
wasn’t a great moment, but I felt like a tether had snapped. I
wasn’t shackled to the past. I wasn’t on a leash to the future. I
was simply there. I felt free.”

“That seems like a pretty good argument to
just be high all the time,” Oscar pointed out. “I mean, if only the
present moment matters, why not?”

Crystal smiled. “No, drugs are a way to
escape the present. The past and the future, too. They don’t really
work long-term.”

“So what, you just quit drugs, just like
that?”

“Of course not. It was hard. Real hard. And
the things that happened to me still bubble up on occasion. But
there’s no sense in getting upset when one particular moment is
bad, because there will be another, and another, and another. Set
yourself up for good moments, and life will take care of
itself.”

“That’s bullshit,” Oscar said. “You think the
past doesn’t matter? Look at you— you’re all fucked up with scars,
and you always will be.”

“I didn’t say it doesn’t matter. It just
doesn’t define me.”

“Well, thanks for the wisdom, Yoda,” Oscar
sneered. “But it’s not that easy for the rest of us.”

“Sure it is,” she said. “You change a little
with every beat of your heart. Embrace that change. Just let go and
be who you need to be in the moment, instead of trying to recreate
what’s already passed.”

As if on cue, Jeremy reentered the diner. He
slid in the booth beside Crystal, his gaze skittering away from
Oscar’s. He ITAdid LICSlook rough. Oscar had been trying to deny
how bad he’d gotten.

“Hey,” Oscar said. “I’m glad you’re doing
this, man. We don’t need the Molten Taco. Their food is terrible.
We can come here.”

As soon as Oscar said the words, Jeremy’s
whole body language changed. He released a tension that had become
so ingrained in him that Oscar hadn’t even realized it was there
until it was gone. For a minute there, Oscar was worried he was
going to tear up or something. Oscar didn’t think he could handle
that.

But he didn’t. He just looked up at Oscar and
smiled, his whole face lit up with it. “Thanks, man. That means a
lot to me.”

Oscar felt himself smiling back. He hadn’t
seen Jeremy look that happy in— well, it had been a long time. “Or
maybe we could see a movie. I know you’re on graveyard, so maybe a
Sunday matinee or something?”

“Yeah, sounds cool.” Jeremy seemed almost
shy.

The waitress returned and asked them if they
wanted to order their meals now. Now that the tension had been
eased, they actually had a decent time. They talked a little about
work, some about video games. Just like normal. Crystal chimed in a
few times, but mostly let them talk together. Oscar left the
restaurant in pretty good spirits. Then he remember the whole
situation with his family, and with Noah. Christ, he was fucking
things up again. Crystal’s advice snaked its way through his brain,
but he shook it off. She was wrong. The past was with him, etched
in his skin. Besides, if he let go of the past, where would he be?
He didn’t know how to live anywhere else.