Serpentine Walls (22 page)

They met each other’s eyes, and Pete suddenly wanted to smack his hand down on the bar and say something stupid like,
Don’t be celibate! Be with me! Be my boyfriend!
And yet, he didn’t want a relationship either, so…. He cleared his throat. “Is it hard? To be celibate, I mean?”

Matthew’s lips quirked. “Not usually.” He paused and then said in a lower voice, “Sometimes it is.”

After a moment, Pete said, “Um, thanks for telling me,” and then added on impulse, “I’m kind of bummed, though.”

“Really? Why?”

“God, Matthew, if things were different, I’d be all over you like white on rice.”

Matthew threw his head back and laughed loudly and then put his hand over Pete’s where it rested on the bar.

“Believe me, if things were different, I’d be all over you too. You’re something special, Pete.” He squeezed Pete’s hand before letting it go.

Taking a shaky breath, Pete covered for the arousal spiking through him by scoffing, “Aw, you say that to all the boys.”

“Actually, I don’t. I haven’t said that to any boy since….” Matthew coughed and took a sip of water. “Let’s talk about something else. Read any good books lately?”

Pete went along with the change in subject, because what else was there to do? They were hot for each other, but Matthew was celibate and Pete wasn’t interested in a relationship.

Life sucks, sometimes. Or not.

Much later, Pete let himself into the house after watching Matthew drive away. Tired, drunk, and more than a little horny, he pulled out his phone and studied the text he’d gotten yesterday, although it was already etched in his memory. It was the first text he’d ever gotten from Aidan:
Happy holidays, adorable. See u in the new year.
Another confusing message from Mr. Emery. He was in London, anyway. Matthew, Aidan—both so attractive… and Pete was horny.

He consulted his contact list. After letting his finger hover over Jed’s name for a moment, he shook his head, scrolled up to
George
, and sent a text.

“H
AND
over that popcorn.” Angie hiccupped. “Oh God, I hope I don’t have a hangover tomorrow.”

“Everyone has hangovers on New Year’s Day.” Pete pushed the popcorn bowl toward her. “It’s a national pastime.”

“Global, you mean,” said Mom from the depths of the armchair. She sipped from the tumbler of Scotch she’d been nursing for the last hour. “Given New Year’s is a global phenomenon.” She yawned. “What are we watching next?”

Angie surveyed the collection of DVDs scattered on the floor beside her. “We have
Now
,
Voyager
,
Sleepless in Seattle
,
Mean Girls
, or….
Trainspotting
? Pete!” She glared at him. “You snuck that in!”

Pete shrugged. “So sue me. It’s brilliant. And you guys are killing me with the chick flicks. Although I grant you that
Now, Voyager
is a masterpiece.”

“Okay, then
Now, Voyager
wins.” Angie removed the disc from its cover and glanced over at the clock. “It’s eleven thirty. We’ll have to pause it to ring in the New Year, I guess.”

“BFD.” Pete picked up a noisemaker and blew, making a raucous sound before throwing it down to grab his drink.

“BFD?” Mom asked, puzzled.

“Big effing deal,” Angie explained.

“Oh. Right.” Mom settled back in her chair and held up her drink. “Happy fucking New Year to us.”

“Mom!” Pete exclaimed, faintly scandalized, while Angie laughed.

“Right on, Mrs. Morgan.” She toasted her with her glass. “Happy fucking New Year to all the lonely hearts, including us.”

Pete glanced at his mother, afraid she might take offense and still somewhat stunned at her language, but she was smiling back at Angie, leaning forward to clink glasses. Suppressing a sigh, he held up his own glass to join their toast. Staying at home on New Year’s Eve was a drag, but all of his siblings were out with friends at parties, and he had felt bad about leaving Mom alone tonight. So the excuse he had given to Jed turned out to be true after all.

And even if he hadn’t been spending tonight with the lonely-hearts club, there weren’t all that many alternatives at the moment. He was hiding out from Jed. George had wanted to spend New Year’s Eve together, but hooking up with him after leaving Matthew the other night had been bad—not the sex, but the fact that Pete had left George’s house feeling emptier than he had when he went there. And he didn’t even want to start thinking about Matthew being celibate and Aidan being… Aidan.

Next year
, he promised himself, as the movie started and Bette Davis graced the screen playing another lonely heart, an ugly duckling who turned into a swan and found love on an ocean liner. Maybe next year he’d be sailing out to sea with Aidan, or Matthew, or his own Mystery Man, and the guy would light two cigarettes and hand him one, saying, “Here’s looking at you, kid.”

Yeah, right. Wrong line, different movie, and too many chick flicks tonight. After this one, it’s
Trainspotting
or nothing. If we’re even still awake.

Happy fucking New Year.

P
ETE
dropped his bags on the floor of his room, toed off his shoes, and flopped onto his bed with a yawn. The apartment was still. He’d returned to school from winter break a few days early, and he had the place to himself. Not that he could take advantage of the situation. He hadn’t gotten any more texts from Aidan despite the ill-advised drunken ones Pete had sent him on New Year’s Eve when he was buzzed. Matthew? Matthew was definitely off-limits—Pete didn’t trust himself not to jump him if they were alone together in the apartment.

His phone rang, and Pete was somehow not surprised to see that it was Matthew calling.

“Hey,” he said, “are you a mind reader?”

“Hello to you too. What do you mean?”

Smiling as always at the sound of Matthew’s voice, Pete stretched his legs out on the bed and contemplated his stocking feet. “I was just thinking about you.”

“You were? Must have been awesome thoughts, then.”

“Of course. Are you back at school?”

“No, coming back tomorrow. Why, are you?”

“Yeah. I decided to come back early.”

“Then we’re cruelly separated by hundreds of miles, Marvin.”

“Tammi, sometimes life… well, it sucks.” Matthew’s loud laugh rang out, and Pete held the phone away from his ear with a grin. “Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you how New York went.”

“Crowded, and we froze our butts off, as expected. But it was fun. How about you? Did you survive New Year’s Eve okay?”

“Yep. I watched chick flicks with the lonely-hearts club.”

“Rough. But what chick flicks?”

Pete laughed. Trust Matthew to focus in on the movies. “
Now, Voyager
was one of them.”

“
Jerry, don’t let’s ask for the moon… we have the stars
.”

“Wow. You’re probably the only guy at U.Va., other than me, who can quote lines from
Now, Voyager
.”

“And that’s what makes us amazing. And speaking of movies, are we still doing your script read-through on the thirteenth?”

“Yep, everyone’s confirmed. I need to figure out a place to meet.”

“I can reserve us a classroom in Cabell. What time?”

“I’m telling people 4:00–6:00 p.m. You can reserve a classroom?”

“Peter, please. Do remember who you’re talking to. I’m a TA, you know.”

“Oh, well,
excuse
me, your mighty TA-ness.”

“Oh, bite me.”

“Umm… not gonna touch that one with—” Pete stopped himself.

“A pole?” Matthew sounded amused. “You ever notice how everything can be turned into a sexual innuendo?”

“I’m noticing it now. Sorry.” Pete twisted a hand in the covers, hating how awkward he was being.

“Hey. I don’t want things to get weird between us now that you know I’m celibate.”

“You really are a mind reader. So, sexual innuendo is okay, then?”

“More than okay, Marvin,” Matthew said in a girlish falsetto. He began to sing. “
When I get that feeling, I want sexual healing
.”

Pete couldn’t stop grinning. “You are
such
a nut.”

“Oo, you said nut!”

“And you’re also twelve years old.”

Laughing loudly again, Matthew started talking about movies.

Pete hung up an hour later, almost winded from laughing so much. He had a sneaking suspicion Matthew was going to be the death of him one day.

T
HREE
days later, Pete walked through the Colonnades on his way to Bryan Hall. His gait was brisk—the January wind was cold, and he didn’t want to be late for the read-through. His phone buzzed with a call from Matthew.

“Yes, dear?”

“Ha, ha,” Matthew’s voice said. “Just wanted you to know I’m here and getting the room set up.”

“You’re the best.”

“Of course I am. Are you on your way?”

“In a few—I’ve got to drop off a paper for Professor R.” As he spoke, Pete walked by the old amphitheater and thought back to the day of Professor R’s creepy come-on. It seemed like a long time ago now.

“Don’t be late, Mr. Screenwriter-Director. It’s the all-important and earth-shattering first read-through for your film!”

Pete smiled. “I know, I know. Get off the phone and maybe I’ll make it there on time.”

“See that you do, sir.”

Pete couldn’t wait for the read-through. To hear his script being read by the actors was gonna be unreal. Also, he’d be seeing Aidan for the first time since winter break, and he was anticipating that probably more than he should be. He figured John would glare at him if he drooled too obviously.

He ran up the steps to the building and headed down the hallway to Professor R’s office, pulling a manila envelope containing his paper out of his messenger bag. Professor R didn’t have office hours now, and he was preparing to slide the envelope under the closed door when the sound of a voice from inside made him pause.

“… I never would have started this. It’s driving me crazy.”

It was Angie’s voice. He straightened slowly. A male voice responded, muffled, but he could hear the end of the sentence: “… not here, Angela.”

“Where, then?” Angie sounded on the edge of hysteria, and Pete reached out his hand as if he could touch her through the door. “You haven’t returned my calls, you won’t answer your doorbell, you ignore me—” Her voice broke.

Professor R’s next response was clear: “I’m sorry, but I made no promises. I wouldn’t have started anything if I knew you couldn’t handle it.” His clipped British accent sounded cold as ice.

You’re Mystery Man? You bastard.
Pete clenched his fists, bending his envelope in the process, not knowing whether to leave or storm the damn office.

The choice was made for him when the door flew open and Angie ran out, almost barreling into him in her haste. She uttered a shocked exclamation, while behind her Professor R stood, eyes on Pete, his face impassive. Pete put his arm around Angie, threw the envelope onto the office floor, and shot Professor R the dirtiest look he could manage before turning his back to him.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he whispered to Angie and ushered her down the hall.

Angie trembled under his arm as they walked. “I’m sorry,” she said in a choked voice.

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.”

“I never wanted you to know.” She began to weep in earnest.

Pete steered her into an empty classroom and closed the door. “It’s okay,” he soothed, putting his arms around her as she cried, his shock fast becoming fury.
Professor R. That fucking creep.

“I’m so embarrassed,” Angie mumbled against his chest.

“God, don’t be. He’s the asshole.” Pete’s phone buzzed. He ignored it.

“I’m… I need to go home.” She pulled away from him. The phone buzzed again. “Is that your phone?”

“It’s not important.”

“Go ahead and get it.” She got a small mirror out of her purse and moaned at her reflection. “I’m a mess.”

Pete looked at the first text, which was from Matthew.
Everyone here for read thru. Where r u?
“Damn.” The read-through had completely escaped his mind.

“What?”

“I have the read-through for the film right now. I’ll tell Matthew to go on without me.” He began to text, but Angie put her hand over his phone.

“No! You need to be there, you’re the writer, the director, everything.”

“I’m not leaving you like this.”

“I’ll be fine.” But even as she said it, tears welled up again. “Ah, screw it.”

Pete sent Matthew a text.
Crisis w/ Angie. Start w/out me.

A moment later Pete’s phone rang with a call from Matthew.

“Hi,” Pete said into the phone.

“What’s going on with Angie? Should we reschedule the read-through?”

“No, don’t reschedule, just do it without me—”

“Pete!” Angie’s voice was shrill. “You need to go. Stop worrying. I’m going to go home and we’ll talk later.”

“Pete?” Matthew’s voice sounded in his ear. “Brian says he’ll come to be with Angie. John can take notes for him on the production stuff.”

“Okay, hold on.” He put his hand over the phone and said to Angie, “Brian wants to be with you. Is that okay?”

Her face grew relieved. “Yeah. Fine.”

“Matthew?” Pete said into the phone. “Tell Brian to stay there and we’ll be there soon.”

“Okay. Hey, Pete?”

“Yeah?”

“You all right?”

Pete bit his lip at how Matthew’s caring tone made him feel. “Yeah. But thanks for asking.”

“See you soon.”

He shut off the phone and opened the door to look up and down the hallway. “The coast is clear,” he said over his shoulder to Angie, who cracked a wan smile.

They linked arms and left the building.

“I’
M
NOT
sure how Gregory is supposed to be feeling after the parents leave.” Parker frowned at the script in front of him. “I mean, he doesn’t get the approval he’s looking for, but on the other hand, he finally comes out.”