Five Boroughs 01 - Sutphin Boulevard (5 page)

“Ay Dios….” I glanced around. “Keep your damned voice down.”

“Fuck these people.”

I elbowed him. “Calm yourself. It’s not about that. We were drunk. It happened. It wasn’t a big deal.”

The corners of his mouth curved down. “That so?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

I rubbed my thumb through the gathered condensation on the bar around my mug. Trying to describe the previous night brought up a slew of things that I wasn’t in the mindset to deal with. The sight of David shared between us, Nunzio’s eyes trained on me in the darkness, and the salty taste of his fingers between my lips right before his thick cock had rammed into me. Bareback.

My mouth went dry, and I shifted on the barstool. That discussion would either have to wait, or never happen at all.

I nursed my beer and glanced over at Nunzio. He was still watching me, clearly expecting a response.

“It was insane,” I said finally. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“You had fun, though?”

“Yeah, I did.”

He nodded, still too serious for the nature of the conversation. “Would you do it again?”

My head filled with a chorus of resounding
yeses
. That morning, stone-cold sober and sick as a dog, I’d thought about having a replay. Hours later, the events of the night before were much further away and an affirmative just seemed awkward.

I rubbed a hand over my face as if that would wipe away the dirty thoughts, along with their effect on me. “Look, I don’t know. I can’t even think about that now. I’m in a terrible mood thanks to my family, and we need to talk about something real.”

“Okay. Sorry. I just wanted to make sure—” Nunzio cut off the sentence with a shake of his head. “Doesn’t matter. What’s the deal? Is Raymond being a pain in the ass?”

“I wish it were that easy. My father is back and wants to live in the house.”

Nunzio’s eyebrows disappeared into the unruly mess of his black hair. The grim set of his mouth made it clear he already understood the gravity of the situation. Nunzio had been there for most of the trouble with my father, and had even had some of his own. Joseph was one of those polite homophobes who waited until the offending gay was out of earshot to mutter about their life choices being a shame. Like that made it better.

“Damn. Where did that come from? He hasn’t been around in months.”

“Not since the reading of the will. He and my aunt showed up and announced that he’s moving back in. Since he owns half of the house, there isn’t much I can do about it. If I try to throw him out, it will get ugly. My aunt and uncle would for sure fight me on it and probably even take my ass to court.”

“What did Raymond say?”

“Looked a few seconds away from throwing his fists up and forcing my father out.”

“Sounds like Ray.”

“Yeah, exactly. The two of them locked in the house together with nothing to do but be unemployed and ornery is going to make my life really fucking fantastic.”

Nunzio winced.

“Your face is my thoughts. I’m so done with all of this shit.”

“So be done with it for real. Just move out.”

“I can’t.”

“You did before, and that was when your mother was still living.”

We’d had this argument in the past, and it wasn’t the first time I felt myself getting defensive in response to the pointed questions. I rolled my shoulders and looked up at the television again.

“Mikey, you gotta stop this shit. I know you feel like it’s your responsibility, but at some point you have to live your own life. I’ve told you so many times before, bro. Move out, save what’s left of your sanity, stay with me until you find a new place, and be done with it once and for all.”

“And trust Raymond and my father to take care of the house? You know that won’t happen.”

“Then convince them to sell the house! I’m pretty sure your pops will not argue with the chance to get half of the money you’d earn on it. It’s worth twice as much as it was when they bought it.”

“No.”

“Why? Just explain to me why you want to keep making yourself miserable.”

“Because my mother worked herself to the fucking bone to get that house, and I’m not going to get rid of it.” My voice rose enough to carry over everything else in the bar. The din of noise quieted. I felt people staring. My face warmed, and I grabbed my beer.

Nunzio spread his hands in surrender. “I just want you to be happy. Okay? Sorry.”

“I know that, but you need to understand that it’s not as simple as you make it sound. It’s complicated. I have to worry about Raymond—”

“Because you and your mother both babied him,” he interrupted. “I love Ray like my own brother, but he’s twenty-five going on sixteen because no one ever expects him to be anything else.”

“Regardless, the damage is done. I can’t rely on him, and I definitely can’t rely on my father, especially now that he’s claiming to be sick.”

I launched into the whole explanation, repeating Joseph’s story about his short and failed stint in rehab, and the discovery that he had advanced liver disease. I tried and failed to omit the parts about the promise I’d made to my mother and how my resentment over the situation still didn’t smother my fear that Joseph was not exaggerating. By the time I stopped talking my voice had a ragged edge and Nunzio was rubbing my back, his strong hand an anchor that kept me from sliding off the barstool and succumbing to weariness and resignation. I wished I’d just waited for Nunzio in his apartment where I could bask in his affection without an audience.

I pillowed my head on my folded arms, sighing when he squeezed my shoulder. He could unwind me with very little effort, but it wouldn’t last. It couldn’t.

I looked up. “Nunzio, I can’t go.”

“Can’t go where?”

I fought the urge to bury my face in my arms again. “I can’t go to Italy. Not with all of this going on.”

He stared at me, wide-eyed.

“I’m sorry.”

“Michael, we’re leaving in like a week.”

“I know. You have no idea how sorry I am.”

Nunzio dropped his arm, expression disbelieving. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“I wish I were, niño.” I covered his hand with my own, squeezing it. “Leaving them in this situation is a bad idea. I can’t do it. It would be on my mind the whole time we’re over there, and I won’t be able to commun—”

“You don’t even have insurance on your fucking ticket. There’s no way in hell we’re canceling this trip because your pops decided now is a good time to make an appearance.”

“We’re not canceling anything. You’re still going.”

“Michael….”

The storm brewing on his face was so evident that my stomach started to do backflips. “Nunzio, I’m not going to change my mind. I can’t do it. Not like this. Just go and have fun.”

“I don’t want to go by myself. I want to go with
you
! What part of that is—” Nunzio’s barstool scraped the floor with a screech. “What’s the point of me going without you?” He clenched both hands in his hair.

“Now who’s being ridiculous? What kind of question is that?”

“Ridiculous? Really? You fucking—you really have no idea what the hell—” He broke off, his jaw clenching. We stared at each other as everyone in the bar likely stared at us. Nunzio broke the standoff by taking out his phone. “Fuck this, I’m calling Raymond.”

I slid off the stool and grabbed his wrist. “Stop.”

“I think he should know you’re going to eat fifteen hundred bucks because you completely lack faith in his ability to function.”

“Because he has no ability to function.” I twisted the phone out of his hand. “Do you think this is easy for me, man? Do you think I’m happy?”

“I think you’re an idiot!”

Miranda cleared her throat. I shot her a wild-eyed look.

“Maybe take it outside, gentlemen?”

I opened my mouth to apologize, but Nunzio was already storming out the door. I swore under my breath and fumbled for my wallet, but Miranda shooed me away, telling me to come back to pay later. I tried to force a grateful smile, failed, and hurried out the door after Nunzio. He was pacing the sidewalk outside the bar but spun on his heel and jabbed a finger into my chest as soon as I stepped out of the door.

“It’s not your responsibility to take care of them. They’re grown people, and you don’t always have to fix everything. When are you going to get that through your head?”

“I don’t know, but it’s not a decision I’m going to make on the fly with my brother threatening to kill my father, and him supposedly on the verge of death. Ay Dios mío, Nunzio, what do you want from me? To just turn my back on them all of a sudden?”

He shrugged, mouth tight. “I did.”

“Yeah, but that’s different!” I stepped forward, grabbing his shoulder and drawing him closer to me. “Your family was straight-up evil, and my family is just… they’re just fucked-up and broken! They didn’t ignore me and beat the shit out of me just for the hell of it like your parents did. I can’t just say fuck it and go to Italy while Raymond and my father are at each other’s throats. I have to be sure my brother will be okay before I take off for a different continent. They’re a pain in the ass, but they’re still my family.”

“So what am I?”

I looked at him through the hazy filter of heat and my throbbing headache. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing. Forget it.”

“No, what do you mean?”

Nunzio shrugged, cutting his gaze away from mine to focus on the pavement. “Never mind. I meant nothing.”

“Nunzio, please.”

When he refused to look at me, I pulled him closer until he had no choice but to meet my eyes. The full weight of his disappointment made the knot of guilt gnaw at me with sharper teeth. His whole demeanor had changed—shoulders sagging and hands balled up like they did when he was forcing himself to stay calm.

I hugged him until he responded to the embrace.

The sun was beating down on my back and my damp T-shirt was sticking to his, but the feel of Nunzio pulling me to him instead of pushing me away made up for all of those petty discomforts.

Suddenly I wanted nothing more than to go back to his apartment and hold him for the rest of the day. We would be separated for the entire summer. I hadn’t considered how distressing that reality would be until he’d accepted it. I started to say just that, but Nunzio’s shoulders shook and the sound of his laugh shattered the moment.

“What?”

“That dude in the suit just walked out and gave me the only bitch face.”

I barked out a laugh and glanced down the street. Sure enough, the accountant was walking away from us. Poor guy.

“Damn.”

“Who cares?”

Nunzio pulled away. His face was flushed, and he was still wilted from the news, but the anger had drained from his posture.

“Are we good?” I asked, touching his cheek.

“Yeah.” Nunzio shrugged. “But I can’t even explain how much this sucks. Every plan I had is fucked.”

“That’s not true.”

He laughed again, but this time the sound was harsh and sardonic. “It really, really is. But it doesn’t matter. I understand.”

“Are you sure?”

Nunzio chucked me under the chin. “Don’t worry about me. You got enough on your plate.”

“Okay….” Unconvinced, I forged ahead. “And if something was wrong with you, I’d drop everything to fix it just like I’m doing for them. The difference is, I’m stuck with those motherfuckers, and I chose you for myself.”

Again Nunzio stared at me. He didn’t respond, and our conversation stalled, words replaced by the honking of a taxi and the exuberant laughter of some teenagers at the far end of the block.

I scowled. “Thank you for making that really awkward.”

“Sorry.” He looked down. “You just make things harder than they already are by saying mushy shit at random.”

“Oh, shut up. I take it back.”

“No, you don’t. I need to go home and start packing.”

“All right.”

“Call me later?”

I nodded, but I was confused by the abrupt end to the conversation. He gave me a strained smiled and walked away. I watched until his lean form disappeared from view.

I didn’t feel satisfied about him understanding. I was simply hit with despair.

Something had shifted radically in the last ten minutes, and I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. All I knew was that I’d let him down. I’d bailed on a trip we’d been planning for two years, and I was spending the next several weeks of my summer vacation in the trenches of the Rodriguez family home.

My body tightened with anxiety as I replayed every furious word Nunzio had said. I agreed with each one.

Defeated, I reentered the bar. I paid for Nunzio’s drink and asked Miranda to open a tab. If I was going to get through the night—and the summer—with my sanity intact, it was going to take a lot of amber liquid, suds, and eventually something with a higher proof.

September

A
PIERCING
beep jolted me out of sleep, and on reflex, I groped for the offending device to hurl it across the room. I lay there taking deep breaths, trying to will the room to stop spinning. After several minutes I couldn’t tell if the dizziness had receded or if I’d just acclimated myself to the sensation after several weeks of waking up in a similar state.

My phone chimed from across the room, and I stumbled to my feet to find it. I was pantless but still in a faux-military shirt that was now missing several buttons—not that I remembered how they’d been ripped off. I bent to retrieve my phone, and my foot caught in the comforter that was hanging off the bed. I stumbled and looked down at the screen.

The alert flashed
6:45—Work,
but that was impossible. At least, I convinced myself it was until I saw the date in the corner of the screen.

September 2.

I was due back in the school building at 8:40 a.m.

“Hijo de la gran puta—”

I fumbled with the phone, trying to solve the kindergarten-level mathematics that my alarm app required to shut it off. If I couldn’t handle two plus two, I had no idea how I was going to survive the day of professional development on school safety and inquiry-based strategies to the Common Core while getting screwed dry by the Regents. Jesus Christ, how had I forgotten the date?