Pisces: From Behind That Locked Door (4 page)

"Why are you even dating her? What if our roles were reversed? Would you be happy about this situation?"

"Jay, I get it. But what if our roles
were
reversed? Can't you try to see things from my view? I haven't had a real date in like five months. Jeni has been the first to show any interest in me in a long time. I can't just spend every night here with you, stuffing my face."

"Sometimes the right thing to do is choose your
friends
over getting laid."

"What would you know about it?"

Amy was prone to blurting unfortunate things before her mind caught up with her mouth. Jay knew this about her and had been one of the few people to forgive her again and again. It wasn't that she had a malicious soul, but she didn't always fully appreciate the consequences of her words. He blinked at her, absorbing the details he hadn't noticed before--one earring was missing, her eyes were ringed with enough black to make her look like a raccoon, her shirt was buttoned improperly, and her bra was sticking out of her bag. Just a lacy hint, like it was waving coquettishly at him.

"Clearly I was wrong to think you knew anything about self-control," Jay said coolly. "Do you fuck anybody who buys you a few drinks?"

"Are you saying I'm a slut?"

"I'm saying you must have lower standards than an alley cat if you're willing to fuck Jeni."

"God, maybe if you fucked somebody, you wouldn't be such an asshole."

"I'm an asshole? You're supposed to be my best friend and you brought my worst enemy back to my
house.
She threatened to show up at the gym on Monday so she could have front row seats of my humiliation. And that's the kind of person you want to be with?"

"Jay... don't you ever get lonely? Lonely enough that you're willing to overlook some things you don't like or don't want? You must, you're never with anybody."

"Yeah, but Karen left you what, six months ago? You can't live with it for six months? You're so desperate that you'll go along with whatever bitch you can find?"

"She's not a bitch to me, Jay. And maybe I don't want to be lonely for the rest of my life. Maybe six months
is
too long. I don't know why you're so upset. It's not like you have to date her."

"Well excuse the hell out of me for expecting a bit of consideration and thoughtfulness from my best friend." Jay abandoned his half-eaten bowl of cereal on the coffee table and stomped over to the door, half pushing her out of the way when she refused to move.

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

"Will you be back in time for our grocery run?"

"Probably not."

"What about dinner?"

"Doubtful."

"But... that's our thing," Amy protested, touching his arm like they never had a fight. "I wanted to tell you about--"

"I don't want to talk to you today, Amy. So I guess you'll have to run to the grocery store by yourself."

She looked absolutely stricken by that. Nothing else Jay said had made any sort of impact on her, but this got through, somehow. She must have realized that if Jay didn't want to spend an afternoon with her--which had been their practice since they moved in together three years earlier--then he must be really pissed. Jay wasn't just really pissed. He was absolutely fucking livid, and the purple hickey on Amy's neck just drove his rage to higher levels. But her green eyes were wide and shimmering with emotion. Jay couldn't remain indifferent to that.

"I need some time to process all this, okay? I don't want to keep fighting with you."

"I don't want to keep fighting with you, either. I mean, I didn't do any of this to hurt you, Jay. I really didn't."

"I know. That's why I'm going to take a breather. If you don't want to go to the store by yourself, we'll do it tomorrow, okay?"

Amy nodded, rising to her tippy-toes to kiss his cheek before releasing his arm. He was completely incapable of staying angry at Amy. Maybe that was why she didn't think it'd be a big deal to bring Jeni home with her--Jay always forgave her, after all. For both major and minor infractions. And he'd probably forgive her for this because the alternative was to lose his best friend, and Jay couldn't afford that. If he lost Amy, who or what would he have left? Nothing. Without Amy, he feared he would turn into a shut-in with nobody for company but the feral cats who slipped into his house to escape the harsh winters.

It wasn't until he reached his car that he realized he didn't have anywhere to go. He could do the grocery shopping himself, but he lacked Amy's half of the money as well as the list. Which meant any effort he made would inevitably result in the two of them going to the store the next day for everything Jay forgot or couldn't afford with his own funds. There was a Village Inn just down the road, but given the mood he was in, sitting in a room full of pies just seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.

There was really only one place for Jay to go when he was feeling out of sorts and flat broke. The library was only a few blocks away, but he drove instead of walked. His legs were still too sore to even entertain the idea, and what if he didn't feel like walking home? Then he would be stuck taking the bus, which meant he'd be on the bus's schedule, and that was even more annoying than walking.

The Salt Lake City Library was beautiful, architecturally interesting, and completely out of place in downtown Salt Lake. Mainly because it was beautiful and interesting. Jay didn't know how the final design was approved, but from the moment it was finished, it became Jay's favorite place. It was more of a complex than a building, with five levels of books and a glass elevator to travel between the floors. The design was big and open, so even in the midst of winter, sunlight streamed through the huge windows. There were little shops on the north side of the bottom floor, including a café, which was always Jay's first stop. On the south was the entrance to the actual library, as well as the elevators that carried patrons to the various sections. The children's floor was the second level. The nonfiction was on level three. Jay had spent countless hours exploring the different levels, losing himself in the stacks completely.

The only thing Jay didn't like about it was that it didn't
smell
like a library. He loved the scent of leather and musty pages and dust sinking into every square inch of the rugs and walls. It was an odor that sat high in the air, sharp enough to tickle at his sinuses, and he always associated it with a deep chill. Perhaps because the Bookmobile he'd frequented as a kid smelled the strongest of old books, and the heater in that thing had been broken. He'd stand shivering, studying the spines of books he'd already read until he found one he hadn't touched yet. Then he'd clasp the icy cover in both hands, his whole frame shaking as he read through the first page. Sometimes, the book didn't pass the first page test, and so he was forced to try again and again, ignoring how the cold bit into him. It was more than a little strange to be standing warm and comfortable, a coffee in one hand--yes, they allowed beverages, much to Jay's mingled joy and horror--and a brand new paperback in the other. When he was a kid, it was a miracle if he found a book even published in his lifetime. This library only smelled of coffee and cleaning supplies.

Jay stopped to buy the white chocolate mocha first, mouth watering at the thought of the hot, sweet drink. There was a line since it was a lovely Saturday morning, but Jay didn't mind waiting. He studied the flyers on the wall, noting with some interest that the midnight movie that night was
Scanners.
He'd been meaning to see that movie for the last five years, but he never wanted to watch it alone, and Amy did not like Cronenberg.
The Fly
traumatized her pretty severely as a child. They were still showing Cary Grant movies on Monday downtown. There was a talent show at West High School that night, and a decent band playing at Kilby Court. Jay thought he could use that information to put together one hell of a date--if hell froze over, that is.

"Jay? Fancy meeting you here."

Stephen's voice was like a punch to the chest, and Jay had to give himself a second to catch his breath before looking up. "Hey."

"How are you feeling after yesterday? All right?"

Jay half shrugged. "No pain, no gain. What are you up to?"

"Returning some books. Every time I move to a new city, I tell myself things are going to be different. This time I'm not going to lose my library books and end up paying hundreds of dollars in fees. So far, so good. What about you?"

"Getting some coffee. And I have some research to do for a paper, so I planned to just hang out here until they closed."

"You're going to stay in the library all day?"

"Yeah."

"But it's beautiful out today."

Jay didn't find that a compelling argument. It was beautiful most days. What was he supposed to do about it? Go to the park? Jay was not a go-to-the-park kind of guy. "A grad student's work is never done."

"I was thinking about driving up to Park City for lunch. I hear that's where all the good restaurants are."

Jay nodded. "Yeah, there are some good ones. Almost anything you choose on Main Street is good, but there are a few more that are completely out of the way. They're a bit harder to find, but worth it."

"Why don't you come with me? You could show me the good places."

It wasn't a surprise that Stephen seemed to like his company, given how willing he was to spend time with Jay at the Center and at the fitness center. But the invitation still somehow left him breathless. He studied Stephen's face for any hint that he was joking, but his smile was sincere. He was really going to have the chance to spend several hours with Stephen? And instead of huffing and puffing and straining on an exercise bike, he'd actually get to enjoy a fine lunch? It seemed too good to be true. It might have been just that. The whole scenario could very well be a dream. This wouldn't be the first time he fell asleep in front of
Mythbusters
on a lazy Saturday morning.

"Unless you have other plans," Stephen amended when Jay's silence stretched for just a beat too long.

"No, lunch sounds great."

"Did you drive here?"

"Yeah."

Stephen smiled. "Good, because I didn't bring my car. You just saved me a trip back home at least. Let me just drop these off real quick."

"I'll wait here," Jay promised, a little unnecessarily.

Stephen was good to his word, dropping off the books and returning quickly, before Jay could change his mind or come to his senses. Fifteen minutes later, they were on the freeway and leaving the valley behind them, following the ribbon of the I-80 into the Wasatch Mountains. The leaves weren't changing color yet, but the late summer heat was bearing down on the foliage, and everything had a sort of brown, dead look to it. It would be better in a few weeks, after the regular autumn storms came and the leaves all turned yellow and red. But in the meantime, everything just looked hot, and dreary, and thirsty.

"It was pretty lucky that we ran into each other, actually," Stephen said. Jay wished Stephen wouldn't talk while he was trying to drive. Being in such a confined space with Stephen made it difficult enough to concentrate on driving without him speaking. Especially when he said strange things like that.

"Why?"

"I was going to try to call you."

Jay frowned. "Why?"

"Because I wanted to invite you to lunch," Stephen said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"But why did you say try to call? Do you not have my number?"

"I have your number. But it's been awhile, you know."

Jay had no idea what Stephen was talking about, so he made what he hoped sounded like a noncommittal grunt of agreement.

"What kind of food are you in the mood for?" Stephen asked.

"I'm not sure. Do you have something in mind?"

"I know it's not even noon yet, but I have been craving sushi for the past two days."

"I know of a great sushi place, but we'll have to kill a little bit of time before it opens. It's right on Main Street, though. So we should be able to park and wander around a little bit."

"You don't mind?" Stephen asked.

"Nope, not at all. I love Main Street. It's actually changed a lot in the past twenty years, but it's still all right."

"I guess it didn't change for the better?"

"It used to be a place for the locals. All of the businesses were genuinely small businesses, you know. People who were running the shops and restaurants their parents started with a few new places sprinkled in. Now it's completely... artificial. Everything is for
their
benefit. Nearly all of the places I used to spend time are gone, replaced by galleries and stores that sell scarves for five hundred a piece."

"We don't have to go there if you don't like it," Stephen said.

"Oh, no, I still like it just fine. Especially on days like this. It'll be at least ten or fifteen degrees cooler up there. It's just... not the same."

"I know what you mean. The neighborhood where I grew up in Phoenix was completely different by the time I was fifteen. It grew really fast. It was supposed to be a good thing, but I hated it. I don't mind change, but I like it when it happens so slowly I barely notice it."

"That's exactly how I feel. I wish there were two versions of Park City. One for all the tourists and Hollywood people, and another that's mostly just full of ski bums."

"A town full of ski bums sounds charming."

"Doesn't it, though?"

"Why do you know so much about Park City? I thought you didn't ski?"

"I don't. But I had a few jobs there. And my parents both worked for the resorts, so I spent a lot of time around town."

"So you could have learned to ski for free?"

"Yeah, I guess so. I think the employees got free or reduced lift passes. But I never felt
that
suicidal."

Stephen frowned, and Jay realized it wasn't so much the words that gave him away as the tone. The words could be written off as a figure of speech, but he didn't sound like he was joking. Afraid of what Stephen might think of him if he lingered over the implications, Jay quickly said, "You should have seen it up here during the Olympics. It was insane."