Omorphi (26 page)

“Thank you,” Christy growled softly.

Michael smiled and kissed his temple. “How do you do that with your voice? It sounds like a growl.”

Christy motioned to his throat. “Flutter.”

“It’s your larynx?”

Christy nodded.

“Was your voice always so deep?”

Christy made a so-so motion with his hand.

“Always,” Sophia quipped.

Christy lightly kicked the back of her seat like a child.

She giggled.

Christy reached over the back of the seat and pulled a strand of Sophia’s hair.

She giggled again. “You know it’s true, Christy!”

Michael watched this interplay with amusement. He’d never seen Christy be spontaneous. Or lighthearted. Or carefree. And it pleased him that Christy was having fun despite his nervousness. “She’s quite a character.”

“You cannot imagine,” Christy whispered.

“Here we are,” Jake announced as he parked behind a seedy looking deli.

“What’s the plan?” Michael asked.

“See that door?” Jake pointed. “That’s where we’re going. Get out on the left side of the car, and go straight there. Let’s go.”

Michael and Jake exited the car, pulling Christy and Sophia close as security guards surrounded them, holding umbrellas overhead, not a raindrop in sight. They jogged across the lot, shot across a grimy alley redolent with rotting trash, and were hustled through a back door. Michael saw cash change hands between a guard and the deli owner right before they were hustled down a flight of stairs and through one dank, dingy storage room after another. Tad trotted up a steep flight of wooden stairs, rapped loudly on the door, and it opened. Yellowish light and the sound of celebratory music cascaded down the stairs, and Tad motioned them up. Michael took the lead, and a security guard brought up the rear.

“You’re here at last!” Jake’s dad bellowed over the din.

Nero Santini was one of the biggest men Michael had ever seen, both in height and girth, and was anything but demure.

“Hey, Mr. Santini!”

A hand the size of a dinner plate descended on Michael’s shoulder, and he could only smile at the large man’s warm demeanor. “Sorry, kid, didn’t think it would be this rough!”

“We made it! That’s what counts! This is Christy Castle!” He brought Christy forward by the hand.

Mr. Santini patted Christy’s cheek, his hand engulfing half of Christy’s head. “Good boy. Such a good boy. Nice to see you with my other son. Enjoy yourself. Plenty of security.” He patted Christy’s shoulder gruffly, jostling his small frame and nearly sending him to his knees. To Michael’s surprise, Christy didn’t flinch or cower before the enormous man. In fact, Christy had offered the big man a small smile and a nod.

“Thanks, Papa!” Jake yelled over the music.

Mr. Santini cupped Jake’s cheek and shouted something into his ear. Jake nodded and turned to Michael. “Head front left! Your parents are sitting with my mom!”

Michael nodded and guided Christy through the crowd with a hand on his shoulder. Michael couldn’t help but worry when a tremor ran through Christy and transcended his hand. Concerned, Michael leaned down. “It’ll be okay. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

Christy squeezed the hand on his shoulder in appreciation.

Michael could almost feel the tension escape Christy on the air when they reached the table where Michael’s parents sat with Jake’s mom.

Bobbie stood. “Come sit here with me, Christy. Michael, you sit on the other side of him next to your father. Jake, Sophia, sit there. Nero, you’re on the other side of Jake.”

No surprise, the seats had been carefully orchestrated. Christy sat in the center on one side of the table, his back to the wall, and was the least accessible person in the lot. Sophia and Jake took seats between Jake’s mom, Anna, and Nero. Michael took his seat between Christy and his dad. No one was going to get past any of their parents.

Mac leaned close to Michael. “Bulwark.”

Michael laughed. “You guys are better than a drawbridge and alligator moat.”

Jake introduced Sophia to his mom, and Anna Santini took one look at Sophia and not only applied the parental seal of approval, but also the “You’re the one” look. Michael could see wedding plans magically come to life in her eyes. They exchanged a European, two-cheek kiss and hugged.

Mac put an arm around Michael’s shoulders. “I’m proud of you, son.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Bobbie blew him a kiss.

“Thanks, Mom.” Michael looked at Christy. “You ready for something to eat?”

Christy toggled a hand.

“Is anyone up for food? I’m starving,” Michael announced.

“We asked for a waiter, honey. We thought it best to keep you nestled away from the press,” Bobbie said.

“I’m starving, and Jake and I can handle it.”

“Are you certain? It’ll only take a few minutes for the waiter to take our order.”

“Jake?” Michael pressed, not wanting to wait to eat.

“No problem, so long as you guys are willing to take care of my gorgeous girl and Michael’s pretty boy.” Jake gave Christy a thumbs-up, and Christy smiled and returned it.

“What is it that you say? We’re all over it?” Mac asked, provoking a warm round of laughter.

“Yeah, Dad, that’s what we say. C’mon, Jake.”

“You’re in love, bro. I see it in your eyes,” Jake said as they made their way through the crowd.

“Like you have room to talk.” Michael shoved him playfully.

Jake leaned in. “I’m going to miss you when we head off to college.”

Michael stopped and turned to Jake in the middle of the crowd. Time stood still as people bumped and made their way past them. “I don’t know if I’m going to be okay without you,” Michael blurted.

Jake hooked an arm around Michael’s shoulders and one-arm hugged him. “Sure you will. ’Cause you know in your heart that I’ll always be with you. Nothing can separate us.”

Michael gave Jake a giant hug, lifting him from the floor.

“Hey, hey, hey! Get off me, gay boy!” Jake laughed.

Pain shot through Michael’s diaphragm, and he dropped Jake on his feet. “You better not ever friggin’ forget me.”

“Get out. No matter how far apart we are, we’ll always be together. We might as well be freakin’ married.” Jake ruffled Michael’s hair and pushed him toward the buffet.

They surveyed the long table piled high with food. “Let’s take a couple trays back to the table,” Michael suggested.

Jake laughed. “Seriously?”

“Why not? It’s easier than trying to fill eight plates.”

“Okay. Which ones?”

“It only seems fair that you get the Italian and American, and I get the Greek and the fruit.”

Jake cracked up. “Go for it, bro.”

“Jake!”

They turned to find Nicky Jamison making his way through the packed bodies with considerable effort.

“Dude, how the hell did you hook up with Sophia Antoniou?”

“Clean living, Nick. Congratulations on a great high jump today.” They bumped fists.

“Back at you. You were smokin’ in the relay. How’d you hook up with her? She’s freakin’ hot and, like, famous!”

Jake glanced at Michael. “She’s Christy’s cousin.”

“Who?”

“Christy Castle. Can’t you tell? They look like twins.” Jake pointed to their table.

Nicky gaped. “The little queer dude? The one who doesn’t speak? That’s his cousin?”

Michael ignored the comment and picked up two trays of food, carefully balancing one in each hand.

“Man, I’d give anything to have a cat like that! Is she good?”

Anger flashed in Jake’s eyes and dampened his smile for a split second. “This is the first time we’ve hooked up, man.”

“Does she have any friends you can hook me up with?”

Michael winked at Jake before heading back to the table, leaving Jake to handle Nicky’s juvenile interest.

Michael managed to make his way through the throng of dancing, shouting celebrants without spilling the trays only to find that Christy and Sophia were no longer at the table. He set the trays to rest as Bobbie and Anna made room on the table. “Where’d they go?”

“Restroom,” Bobbie answered.

Michael looked over his shoulder; then turned back to his mom. “You let him go alone?”

“Sophia went with him.”

Panic raced up Michael’s spine. Christy was alone, in a large crowd, with the press, a crazed teammate, and a psycho on the loose.
Shit
. Michael took off.

He pushed through the crowd, leaving rude remarks to paint the air in his wake as he made his way to the restroom. He bumped shoulders hard with some guy heading in the opposite direction and glanced back at him with a quick, “’Scuse me.” The guy didn’t seem to care, and all Michael saw was the back of his stringy, black hair as he made his way quickly through the crowd. He had just set his hand on the bathroom door when Christy bolted from the room. Michael caught him as he slammed into his chest. “Whoa!”

Christy shuddered and buried his face in his hands. Michael looked around and found a door with a baby changing room sign on it. He quickly pulled Christy inside and locked the door behind them. Christy shook like a newborn leaf and was pale as a ghost. “Are you all right? What am I saying? Obviously, you’re not all right. What happened?”

Christy simply shook his head against Michael’s chest and tried to bury deeper against him. Michael leaned back against the wall and held Christy, rubbing his back in long, soothing strokes as he murmured words of comfort.

Christy gradually calmed and put his arms around Michael’s waist. Michael still couldn’t get over how good it felt when Christy held him.

“Tell me what happened, babe?”

Christy shook his head against Michael’s chest again.

Michael sighed deeply and kissed the top of Christy’s head. “Don’t go anywhere without me, okay?”

“Pathetic.” It came out in a cracked, hoarse whisper.

“You’re not pathetic. You went to the meet, you survived the press, and you came to this party with me. You’ve been brave all day. You’re anything but pathetic. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Christy squeezed Michael’s waist tightly.

“Do you want to go home?”

Christy shook his head and looked up at Michael. “Not fair to you.”

Michael stroked his golden locks back and kissed his forehead. “Don’t worry about being fair. If you need to go home, we can go home.”

“Should eat something,” he whispered.

“Okay, but if you want to go home, let me know, okay?”

Christy’s attempt to smile nearly broke Michael’s heart. He was trying so hard to be strong. “I mean it, okay?”

They ran into Sophia in the short, dimly lit hallway outside the restrooms.

“There you are! I have been looking for you!” Sophia started in on Christy in Greek, and her words didn’t sound kind.

“Sophia, lighten up.” Michael’s words came out ruder than he intended.

She was indignant. “Why?”

“Let’s just get back to the table so we can eat. Okay?”

Sophia looked from Christy to Michael and back again. “Are you well, Christy?”

Christy nodded and motioned her forward.

“He’s okay. Let’s just get back to the table.”

Michael met Jake’s eyes briefly as he seated Christy next to his dad and took a seat between Christy and his mom.

Sensing Michael’s concern, Jake winked without humor as he pulled Sophia’s chair out for her.

“Can I get anything else for you?” the waiter asked with only half his attention on their table.

“Do you have chicken soup?” Michael asked.

“Bowl or cup?”

“Bowl.”

“Be right back with it.”

“Is everything okay?” Bobbie asked.

“Fine.” He glanced at Christy. “Christy’s stomach is upset, so I thought broth might help.”

She turned to Christy. “Nervous after a big day?”

Christy nodded.

“I can’t say I blame you. It’s been a very exciting day.”

Michael looked at his mom. She’d tried like a champion to keep a stiff upper lip and mask her worry over the Jason thing as well as the circles under her eyes. On impulse, he kissed her cheek.

“What’s that for?”

“What? I can’t kiss my mom?” He glanced at Jake. “I think we’re going to head home after Christy gets something in his stomach. That all right with you?”

Jake nodded. “Sophia, how about you?”

She looked at Christy with concern, then turned a radiant smile on Jake. “I will have to be satisfied with seeing you tomorrow at three.”

Jake’s smile told Michael that he was ecstatic that she wanted to see him again.

The waiter brought the soup, and Christy’s hands trembled as he fought to steady a spoon to his lips. Whatever happened in the bathroom had scared the crap out of him, and Michael had to fight the urge to feed him. When Christy spilled the spoon a third time, Michael took it from his fingers. Embarrassed, Christy pushed Michael’s hand away.

Bobbie turned to the table next to them. “May I have that unused coffee cup?”

A nice woman passed it to Bobbie, and she poured a measure of Christy’s soup into it. “Try that.”

Christy wrapped his hands around the mug, soaking the warmth in before drinking the soup down. Life slowly bled back into Christy’s eyes, and Michael began to relax.
What the hell had happened in the bathroom?
He wanted to hold Christy, to ask Christy to confide in him, to tell Christy he wouldn’t judge him for his fears. But he couldn’t do a damn thing in public.

T
HE
music abruptly ceased, and Coach O’Malley rang a spoon against a water glass. The room quieted. “I’d like to make a toast. Great moments are born of excellence and all of you were magnificent today. No one could be prouder of you than I am. I’m the luckiest coach in the world!” The crowd clapped and cheered and someone issued an ear-piercing whistle. Coach O’Malley raised his hands to quiet the room. “I’ve been coaching track and field for nearly thirty years. Never have I coached a team with as much winning spirit as you have. You brought this school from twelfth to first place four years ago and set new records every year since. It’s been my great pleasure to coach you.” A few people began to cheer, and Coach held his hands up to quiet everyone again. “I’ve also never coached a team captain with as much heart and balls as Michael Sattler.” The room erupted in applause and cheers. “As most of you know, Michael will be joining the Oxford blues come fall. We’ll miss you, Michael.”