Pisces: From Behind That Locked Door (5 page)

"Oh, I bet. I wanted to come up here and watch the snowboarding at least, but my parents wouldn't let me."

"My mom made me volunteer to work the Games."

"That sounds like fun."

"It was pretty much the opposite of fun. I was stuck cleaning up the Ute Stadium after every event. Do you have any idea how filthy and disgusting people are? And all those stairs... "

"But it helped build character, right?"

Jay snorted. "Yeah, that's what my mom said. I let it build my character for about three days before I had enough of that bullshit. Fortunately, when I told her it was distracting me from school, she didn't fight me."

"Did you at least get to go to any of the events?"

"No. Just watched them on TV like everybody else."

"I know this sounds really lame, but I love the Olympics. I wish I could go to London in 2012."

"You
love
the Olympics?"

"I do."

"Wow. That does sound really lame. Do you like the summer or winter sports the best?"

"Summer. Like everybody else."

"I like the horse events the most," Jay admitted. "Even though I don't really understand what's happening."

"Do you mean like dressage?"

"Yes."

"I love watching dressage. And no, I don't understand it, either. I keep hoping that if I just keep watching it, I'll figure it all out sooner or later. I should just look it up on Wiki, I guess."

"I did," Jay said. "It didn't really help. Maybe it'll make more sense to you, though. If it does, explain it to me."

Stephen chuckled. "I will. So, what's in those mountains?"

"What?"

"Is there like another town back there somewhere?" Stephen asked, gesturing to the mountains on the north side of the road.

"Nope. Just more mountains."

"But there's an exit here off the freeway."

"Yeah, there's a reservoir down there, and that road goes to Emigration Canyon, which just cuts back to Salt Lake. I don't know what's beyond that though, honestly. Probably nothing."

"We should go explore."

"Where?"

"Everywhere. Aren't you curious about where all those roads go?"

Jay wasn't. Plus, if he ever got curious about it, he could just check out Google Earth. But Stephen seemed really enthusiastic about the idea, and even though it was somewhat dangerous to spend too much time with Stephen, his enthusiasm was rather contagious. If
exploring
meant driving for miles and miles with no real destination in mind and Stephen at his side, Jay would happily be the Lewis to his Clark.

"I guess I never really thought about it before. I mean, I've driven through this canyon so many times I never even really noticed those other roads."

"That's why a fresh pair of eyes is always helpful. Did you know your brain doesn't even process the information your eyes send it? It mostly just reconstructs everything from impressions and memories."

"I didn't know that," Jay said, watching as a semi-truck got over to the left to get around an even bigger trailer, narrowly missing a SUV in the process.

"So that means that sometimes you literally just see what you expect to see. Your brain is tricking you."

"That's not very nice of your brain, is it? It happens when people are writing essays all the time. I've seen the craziest things because people tend not to catch their own mistakes. But I guess it makes sense for your brain to take shortcuts where it can and save energy for other tasks."

"I guess so. Still, I wish seeing really could be believing."

They reached the top of Parley's Summit, and the valley was so green beneath them, and Stephen's company was just so nice, that Jay felt the last of bad mood evaporate. He didn't spare Amy or Jeni a second thought. He was just happy to be with Stephen and not killing himself in the process. Jay didn't know what Stephen was getting out of the deal, but he wouldn't worry about it. Instead of analyzing the situation to death, he'd just go along with the flow.

"Is this Park City?"

"Not really. It's Jeremy Ranch. Park City is still a few miles farther."

"Are you annoyed with all my dumb questions?"

"What dumb questions?"

"Where does that road go? Are we there yet? I should throw in 'Why is the sky blue?' to complete the hat trick of annoyance."

"I hope you don't, because I can't tell you why the sky is blue. Something to do with the way the light bends through the water molecules? Anyway, I don't think your questions are annoying at all."

"You probably hear worse in your classes."

"You have no idea. I have to be quick on my feet to keep the class from derailing on an almost daily basis."

"I bet you're a great teacher."

Jay smiled a little. "Well, I am pretty good, I think. My evaluations are always positive, at any rate. But why do you think that? Have I been particularly teacherly?"

"Teacherly? Do you make up words in front of your students?"

"Not intentionally."

Stephen turned in his seat, leaning against the door and facing Jay more directly. "You know on the first day of class when you try to get some sort of handle on your teachers? Sizing them up, I guess."

"Sure."

"Well, I had that down to an art form. And my first impression was always right."

"Always? Don't you think you might be a victim of confirmation bias?"

"I love that you just said that."

Jay glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "What? Why?"

"Because I feel like nobody even knows what the concept is. I never hear anybody casually and correctly work it into conversation. Anyway, no, it's not confirmation bias. I really was right, like, every time. It was a good survival skill to have."

"So you're saying you sized me up?"

"Yep. You're one of the good ones, Jay."

Stephen said it with such finality that Jay's protest died before it was even properly formed. He felt himself smiling shyly, and he tried to wipe it from his face, but he was completely unsuccessful. His face and the back of his neck felt hot, and he muttered a "thanks" that didn't even begin to express his actual gratitude for the compliment. Thankfully, Stephen didn't let the silence settle over them, happily transitioning to the next question on his mind. In that moment, falling in love with Stephen didn't seem like such a stupid idea.

Lunch went very well. Jay felt more in his element than he did at the gym, so it was easy to just talk to Stephen about everything. It didn't feel like any topic was off-limits, and they let the conversation drift wherever it wanted to go, from the slightly surreal to the downright personal. Stephen explained that he'd always known he was gay, that both of his parents were gay but had married each other anyway and had two kids. He talked about the strangeness of his parents' home life and how much of a relief it was when they finally decided to be honest about their feelings and divorce. Stephen talked about his favorite topics in school, his least favorite movies--he claimed you learned more about a person by what they didn't like--and the summer he spent following the New Pornographers.

Jay lost himself for twenty minutes while he explained the research he'd already started in anticipation of his dissertation, excited to share with somebody who actually seemed interested. He told Stephen stories of his more colorful and bewildering students, gave Stephen a list of his favorite movies because he didn't even bother to remember the ones he didn't like, and eventually admitted he'd never had a serious relationship. He didn't go as far as confessing that he'd never had sex or been kissed, either, but Stephen might have caught on to that fact. The scary thing was, Jay felt like he could literally tell Stephen any thought, any feeling, any deep dark secret, and trust the other man with that knowledge. He knew it wasn't necessarily because Stephen was interested in these things, but he did a good job of acting interested, of listening, of asking questions to prompt Jay to continue.

They were discussing where to get dessert when Stephen's phone rang. Stephen ignored it and continued his soliloquy on why pie was superior to cake. The phone beeped to signal a new voice mail, and then started ringing again.

"I'm sorry," Stephen said. "I know it's really rude, but I have to take this."

"That's fine."

Stephen pushed talk and brought phone up to his ear, his face instantly transforming. Jay couldn't put his finger on any one change, but he looked different. More professional. Jay didn't have time to figure out how or why this change happened before Stephen said, "Hey, Jeni."

And Jay
knew
it wasn't some other girl. It wasn't some
Jenny
or
Jennifer
or anything like that. It was
Jeni,
and Stephen was talking to her like they knew each other well. He closed his ears, not wanting to hear another second of the conversation, and stared at his salmon nigiri like there was a good chance it would march right off his plate. He wasn't so egomaniacal or self-centered that he thought Jeni called specifically to talk about him, but she'd already promised she would ask Stephen about him, and she had no way of knowing that Stephen was actually at lunch with him.

He must have done something absolutely wretched in a previous life to be cursed with Jeni now. There was no way somebody could just randomly make his life this miserable. There had to be a purpose behind it,
reason
behind it, and since Jay had never wronged Jeni in this life, that was the only reasonable explanation. Well, there was one other, he supposed. His weight was so very offensive to her that she had a primal need to destroy the object creating the distress.

Stephen laughed at something she said, and the sound that had been so welcome before now grated on his frayed nerves. Oh, yes, Jeni was a laugh riot. A real shining example of wit. Oscar Wilde himself would kneel at her feet after hearing just one of her hilarious zingers. Maybe his earlier assumptions were both incorrect. Maybe Jeni wasn't a curse or offended by the sight of Jay. Maybe she was just a comedian in need of a punchline, and Jay fit the bill perfectly. And now they had a mutual acquaintance in Jay. Ho, ho how delightful. How droll.

Jay just wanted to make his escape and go home. Where Amy was waiting with bated breath to tell him all about her wonderful, fun night with Jeni.

"Sorry about that," Stephen said as he returned his phone to his pocket. "Trying to work out a good time for a planning meeting next week. You know Jeni Jacobson, right?"

"Yes."

"She's a funny girl."

Something in Jay's chest deflated until he thought he was in danger of collapsing in on himself. "Sure is."

"Look, I propose we settle this silly cake versus pie dispute by going for ice cream. There's a place just up the road... "

"You know, I don't really have time for dessert."

Stephen blinked his surprise. But why shouldn't he be surprised? A guy like Jay always had time for dessert, right?

"Oh, okay. Do you need to get back for something?"

Yeah, maybe it's possible to get back in time to rescue my pride.
"I do need to finish Ovid."

"Ah, right. Sometimes I forget about the yoke of homework." Stephen stood, reaching for his wallet. "I'll get this."

"No, I'll pay for my own," Jay protested.

Stephen put a hand out to stop him. "No. It was my idea, I invited you, so it's my treat. You can get the next one."

Since there probably wasn't going to be a next one, Jay didn't really see how this was fair. But he didn't want to get into an argument over it. This was already awkward enough without adding a
scene
on top of it.
Why is that fat guy yelling at the other guy?
One patron would ask another.
I don't know. Maybe the other guy tried to steal his food?

Stephen paid, grabbed a handful of the red and white mints Jay only saw at restaurants, and smiled in response to something the waitress said. In that moment, Jay had such a yearning for Stephen that he couldn't draw a breath. Spending so much time with Stephen had been a mistake. Now he knew exactly what he was missing out on, and what he'd be missing out on every day for the rest of his life. He ducked out of the restaurant, desperate for a lungful of breath air.

"Peppermint?" Stephen asked, once he joined Jay.

"Sure."

The tip of Stephen's finger just brushed against Jay's palm as he passed the candy over. Jay caught his breath a little, but tried to mask the startled sound with a quickly added, "Thanks."

"You've helped out with Pride before, haven't you?" Stephen asked.

"Yeah, I was on the committee my junior and senior years. I volunteered before that."

"Any interest in helping out again this year? We could really use it, to be honest."

Jay would eagerly volunteer his nonexistent time except for one thing. "Is that why you were speaking to Jeni?"

"Yeah, she's on the committee this year."

"I'm sorry, but I just don't have the time."

"What about that week? Can I ask you to man a booth or two? Please?"

Oh good. Public torture. But Stephen was asking nicely, and his blue eyes had such a lovely tint in the sunshine. "Yeah, I can probably do that."

"Thanks. But just so you know, I wasn't trying to bribe you or anything with lunch."

"What were you trying to do with lunch?"

Stephen laughed. He had a maddening tendency to do that whenever Jay was being serious. He wasn't sure where that laughter came from, but it lacked an edge. Jay had heard plenty of derisive and mocking laughter in his life, and Stephen's was nothing like that. Jay was so caught up in the shine of Stephen's smile that he didn't look away in time, and Stephen's gaze shifted over in time to catch Jay's eye. His laughter faded, but his smile didn't. Jay's heart slammed against his ribs once before settling back to its proper rhythm.

"Thank you."

"For volunteering? It's no big, I do every year."

"No, for accompanying me. I've had a lot of fun today."

"So have I." Jay finally looked away, unable to stand the force of Stephen's eyes. His perfectly sincere eyes. He didn't know what Stephen and Jeni had actually discussed, but he was stupid for thinking that Stephen had been laughing him. He wanted to apologize for being so stupid, like he'd insulted Stephen to his face. "I'm sorry I had to cut it short."