Social Skills (24 page)

An
older Latina lady came to usher them into a booth and take their order,
interrupting the conversation.

“You
wanna get by the slice, or split something?” Jared asked.

“Sharing’s
fine,” Connor answered quickly, eager for the interloper to leave so he could
get back to his question.

“Cheese
okay?”

“Sure.
Whatever.”

The
waitress shuffled away after filling their drink orders, allowing Connor to
return to his icy stare. “You were saying?”

Jared
sighed. “I came out here because I thought it’d be easier for me to…to do date
things.”

“What?”
Connor snapped his head back. “Jared, I told you—”

The
waitress returned to drop off their sodas and they fell silent until she had departed.

“I
know, I know.” Jared jumped in before Connor had a chance to finish. “I guess I
was just hoping…well, anyways, you don’t need to worry. I was wrong. I think I
feel even less comfortable out here. It was a stupid idea to begin with.”

“What…what
exactly did you think you were going to do?”

“I
dunno. Sit close to you. Touch you. Hold your hand or something.”

“Oh.”
Connor’s cheeks warmed. Just what would he have done if Jared had pulled any of
those moves? “S-so…why do you feel less comfortable here?”

Jared
snorted. “Have you ever driven around Crozet? The people out here fly
Confederate flags from their windows. I know that doesn’t necessarily mean they
want Black people to be their slaves, but it still sorta freaks me out.”

“Well…”
Connor scratched his head. “I guess I see what you’re saying, but—”

“Oh,
and the other day, Ben was out here doing a community service project and these
old ladies gave him a really hard time about how he’s not going to be ‘saved,’
because he hasn’t accepted Jesus into his heart. I can only imagine what they’d
think of gay people.”

Connor
stifled a chuckle. “Okay, so it’s probably a good idea to be…cautious…but I
wouldn’t lump everyone into one stereotype. I mean, if you and I were our
stereotypes, we’d probably have nothing to do with each other.”

A
smile eased onto Jared’s features. “I guess. Well, then here’s to breaking
stereotypes.” He raised his glass of coke and tipped it before taking a swig.

Connor
grinned back, although underneath that expression was a tiny, wistful daydream
of holding Jared’s hand out in the open, where anyone could see. He quickly
blinked it away.

Jared
replaced his glass in the ring of condensation on the table. “You’re different,
you know.”

“How
so?” The pizza arrived and Connor leaned away.

“You
don’t…need me anymore.” Jared shrugged. “Not like you used to. Guess that’s why
you’re making things more challenging this time around.”

“What
does that mean?” Connor folded his arms defensively, even though the
implication was perfectly clear—and true.

“I
saw you with your friends…laughing, talking…looking so much more confident. And
you’re out now, too, which is good for you, I guess. I just mean you’ve come a
long way.”

“Oh.”
Connor blushed and directed his attention into removing a slice of pizza. The
cheese trailed along the table, giving him an added excuse to avoid Jared’s
eyes as he dabbed it away.

“I’m
proud of you,” Jared added.

A
lump formed in Connor’s throat, and he swallowed a hunk of pizza to push it
down. “Thanks, I guess. I…I owe some of it to you.”

Jared
scoffed. He picked at the crust of his pizza, but didn’t eat it. “Why, because
I broke your heart?”

“No,”
Connor responded immediately, although that probably did factor into it. “You…you
were the first person I ever felt safe opening up to. You showed me that
letting people see me could be a good experience. That I was missing out on
things by being too afraid to risk my heart.”

“So…are
you afraid to risk it again now?”

Yes.
“A
little.”

Jared
nodded solemnly, his eyes sad but accepting. “Okay. Friends first, then, until
you feel safe again.”

***

Connor’s
ringtone woke him the next morning. He answered the phone groggily, coughing to
force the raspy coating of sleep from his throat. “Hello?”

“You
wanna come over to the quad and play Frisbee?” Jared asked.

Connor
peered at his clock. Was it really almost noon? The emotional drain of the past
few days must have tired him out more than he’d realized.

“Um…I
dunno.”

“Why
not? What are you doing right now?”

Connor
scratched at himself under the blankets. “Uh, working on a paper.”

“Well
an hour off is not gonna kill you. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“Aren’t
you getting tired of me yet?” Connor rolled over and pressed his ear to the
phone, like he’d done so many times before, just to feel a little closer to
Jared. “You saw me like twelve hours ago.”

“No,
not tired yet. Won’t be anytime soon, either. So, you coming then? Ben should
be around in a little while. We could all hang out together and play.”

Ben.

The
image of Jared’s roommate and his condescending smirk popped into Connor’s head,
with a flare of nervousness close on its heels. “To tell you the truth, I’ve
always thought Frisbee was better suited to dogs than people. It’s pretty
mindless.”

Jared’s
sigh filled the line and he cringed. He hadn’t meant to sound so rude.

“Connor,
how do you expect this friendship thing to work if you’re afraid to hang out
around my friends?”

“I’m
not afraid!” Connor shot back, even as the jump in his pulse told him Jared had
hit a nerve. “I just…don’t care for Frisbee.”

“Well
it’s not about the Frisbee. It’s about hanging out, getting some fresh air…we
could sit and talk for all I care. If you’re really not afraid, then why don’t
you—”

“All
right, all right.” Connor kicked off the blankets. “I’ll come. But not for very
long—my paper is due this Wednesday and I haven’t even written a word.”

“I
thought you said you were already working on it.”

“I’ll
be there in like fifteen,” Connor grumbled. “Bye.”

***

“You’re
letting go too late,” Jared said, apparently unmoved by the scowl on Connor’s
face. “It’s like this.” He released the neon green disc and it sailed through
the air, slowly enough that Connor was actually able to catch it.

Connor
threw it back, and once again, the disc shot wide. Jared dove for it anyway and
grasped it as he fell. He landed on his side, still managing to make the move
look graceful.

“That
was better. At least I could reach it.” This time, Jared launched the Frisbee
from his position on the ground, and it ended up flying a little too high.

After
a split second of consideration, Connor decided to lunge for it. People were
watching—the first-year quad was always home to at least a handful of
lounging students—and he probably hadn’t imagined the snickers at his
earlier failures.

Of
course, he missed the Frisbee and wound up on the ground with a face full of
grass.

He
rolled over to stare at the sky, prepared for embarrassment or shame, but
instead started to giggle. Jared trotted over to observe him with an amused
expression, and the laughter grew so out of control he got stomach cramps. “I
suck,” he gasped out between spasms.

Jared
grabbed the Frisbee and tucked it under his arm. “Yes, you do,” he murmured,
his eyes dancing. He pulled Connor to his feet. “There are some things you suck
pretty well, in fact.”

Connor
groaned but couldn’t stop the giggles—until Jared stepped closer,
reaching out to brush a thumb along his cheek.

“You
have a smudge of dirt,” Jared whispered.

The
air between them crackled, energy shooting out from the tiny space where Jared’s
skin touched his. Connor gazed up into Jared’s eyes, and it no longer mattered
that they were in full view of at least a half a dozen students, or that he was
supposed to be maintaining a firm line of friendship. All he wanted was for Jared
to grab him and kiss him deeply, like he had that very first time.

Rebecca
was right. He didn’t stand a chance against these emotions.

Jared
brushed the dirt for a few more seconds, then kept his finger hovering by Connor’s
cheek. His lips tilted in a drunken-looking grin. “Connor, I—”

“Jared!”

Dropping
his hand, Jared whirled to face his lanky roommate. “Yo, Ben. What’s up?”

“What’s
up?
What’s up
? Where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to get a
hold of you for like forever! Don’t you know how to answer your damn cell
phone?”

“Uh,
I think maybe I left it in the room. Why?”

“Dude,
Ronnie’s been going around telling everyone that’ll fucking listen that you’re…that
you’re…that you’re a…” He trailed off, his gaze shifting between Connor and
Jared.

Connor’s
heart leapt into his throat.

“Jesus.”
Ben gasped. “The crazy bitch was telling the truth for once, wasn’t she?”

Connor
waited, suspended in shock, for Jared to deny it. For him to get angry, or
laugh it off as a joke.

But
Jared did neither; he just stared back at Ben with wide eyes.

“Wow,
dude.” Ben shook his head, pressing a hand to his temples. “Just…wow. That’s…fucking
nuts.” Then he turned and walked away.

In
the terrifying silence that followed, Connor opened his mouth, but only air
came out. Had that really just happened? Everything Jared had worked so hard to
keep secret, laid bare across the green grass of the first-year quad?

It
took him thirty seconds to muster his voice. “Jared?” he whispered.

Jared
spun around. “I have to get out of here,” he said, and took off running.

Chapter Twenty-two

When
he could finally get his feet to move again, Connor sent them plodding toward
his dorm. Thoughts crashed through his mind like so many forceful, final chords,
and every step made him crave his previous shadowy existence that much more.

Because
he knew what would happen now. Jared would hate him. He was to blame for
placing Jared in the position to make a mistake—a mistake that had probably
just cost him the only life he knew. And unlike Connor, Jared had actually
had
a life to begin with. He was the popular, good-looking,
all-American boy. He was never meant to be a marginalized human being.

Jared
would never forgive him.

A
slumped figure by the entrance to Connor’s dorm added his voice to the despair.
“What took you so long?”

Startled,
Connor jumped back. “Oh…I…I didn’t know you were coming here.”

“Where
else could I go?” Jared stood and dusted himself off, then followed Connor into
his room. He collapsed onto the bed and wrapped his arms around a pillow,
burying his face there.

“Jared…”
Tears gathered in Connor’s eyes, hot and fast. “I’m so sorry, I’m s-so—”

“Don’t,”
Jared growled.

“I
never meant for th-this—”

“Connor,
please stop. Just…just let me be right now. Do your work or something.”

“B-but—”

“I
said, stop.” Jared rolled over to face the wall, effectively shutting him
out.

For
several seconds, Connor stared after him. He took in uneven gulps of air as he
worked to keep the tears at bay. No one would comfort him if he did
cry—and wasn’t Jared the one who deserved the comforting right now?

But
not from him, apparently.

After
a few more wistful seconds, Connor sank down at his desk and opened his laptop.

In
an hour’s time he typed only a few disjointed notes. He flipped mindlessly
through books, highlighting random phrases while the sentence
Jared’s been
outed and it’s all your fault
streamed through his head like it was on an
electronic marquee sign. After a while he could tell Jared had fallen asleep by
the way his ribcage rose and fell with even breaths, but he still couldn’t
concentrate. He finally gave up and went to the only thing he could count on to
grant him any relief. Without his bow, he tucked his violin under his chin and
began wandering through familiar favorites.

He
started out fast, his fingers just barely grazing the strings. When they tired,
he went on to a few Hungarian dances, then shifted toward slower, sadder music.
His hand trembled with a shaky vibrato, and after slipping into Barber’s melodramatic
adagio, he was forced to stop. The last thing he needed was more emotional
fodder for his tears.

Jared
stirred as he undressed. “Do you want me to move to the other bed?” he asked,
his voice thick.

Connor
sat on the edge of the mattress. “You don’t have to.”

With
a grunt Jared scooted over to make room, and Connor lay stiffly beside him. Fear
kept him from reaching out and making any physical contact. Instead he just whispered,
“I’m sorry, Jared.”

There
was no response.

***

Jared
didn’t move an inch at the noise from the alarm clock, so Connor shut it off
and snuck out of the blankets. He dressed for class and readied all his
materials before dropping down onto the bed again.

“Hey,”
he said tentatively, then allowed his voice to grow a little louder. “Hey.”

“What?”
Jared yawned, but didn’t turn around.

“It’s…it’s
Monday morning. Are you going to class?”

Jared
yanked up the covers. “I don’t know. Probably not.”

Connor’s
hand edged closer to Jared and he squeezed the sheet to keep himself from
touching. “Jared, I’m s—”

“Stop
apologizing. Go to class.”

“O-okay.”
He took a few deep breaths. “Will you call when you leave?”

“Yeah,
sure.” Jared burrowed deeper into the blankets. “You should go now or you’ll be
late.”

In
other words,
stop bothering me and get
out
. Swallowing his guilt, Connor did as he was asked.

By
the last class of the day, he had his cell phone glued to his hand. It refused
to ring, though, and every moment he stared at the blank screen just served to
confirm his fears.

He’d
probably never hear from Jared again.

Depression
overtook the numbness, and he didn’t realize class was over until people began
tripping over his legs to exit the row. He followed the crowd, then stood out
on the grassy Lawn and tried to come up with something to keep from sliding
into complete desolation.

The
answer came quickly, and he returned to his cell phone to text Rebecca.

You
busy?

Doing
a project w/ my film class till late. What’s up?

Connor
squeezed the phone until his palm hurt, cursing under his breath.

Nothing-
it can wait.

Defeated,
he trudged back to his room. It was nearing six in the evening when he opened
the door, and found Jared exactly where he had left him at nine o’ clock that
morning.

Jared
rolled on the bed to face him. “Hey.”

“Hey,”
Connor responded automatically, blinking through his shock. “Have…have you been
in here all day?”

“Nah.”
Jared stretched. “I left to take a piss a couple of times. Found your stash of Pop-Tarts,
though, so I didn’t have to go anywhere for food.”

Connor
almost cracked a smile, but the impulse quickly vanished. Panic took the place
of surprise. What was he supposed to say next, now that Jared was actually
speaking to him?

Useless
ideas like
are you okay
? floated through his mind, but when he sat
beside Jared, the first thing out of his mouth was, “Do you hate me?”

“Hate
you?” Jared looked at him sharply. “This isn’t your fault. I know that.”

The
words washed over Connor, and his lungs heaved out a breath he didn’t know he’d
been holding.
He doesn’t hate me.

Jared
sat up. “I just…don’t know what to do now.” He blinked several times, his brown
eyes darkened by fear. “What do I do, Connor? Fuck. I’m so fucked.”

Connor
snatched Jared’s hand, forgetting his earlier concerns. He couldn’t stare into
Jared’s face and not try to lessen his pain. “Everyone’s always saying Ronnie’s
crazy. Why don’t you just say she made it up? That she was pissed about you
breaking things off?”

Jared’s
gaze drifted to the floor. “I thought of that.”

A
ray of hope shone through Connor’s despair. Maybe things weren’t as dire as
they seemed. Maybe this could be fixed.

“But
if I do that,” Jared continued, “if I do that, it would be the end of…
us…
wouldn’t
it.”

Connor’s
mouth dropped open.
Shit.

“I
mean, the friends thing…it wouldn’t really work then. She might have told
people about me being involved with you. And going back to the way things were
before—”

“I’m
sorry, Jared.” Connor surprised himself by breaking in. “But I can’t ever go
back to that.”

Jared
sighed. “Yeah. I know.” He rubbed his face with clenched hands. “What do you
want me to do?”

“What
do
I
want?” Connor repeated, brows drawing up. “This…this shouldn’t be
about what I want. It’s your life.”

“I
know that. But…that guy, from the other night…he seemed nice. And he obviously
has his shit more together than I do. If that’s what you want, I wouldn’t blame
you. I’m sorry I came back into your life to screw it up. If that’s what you
want, Connor, if you want me out of the way…”

Moisture
gathered in Jared’s eyes, and Connor stretched his arm out, intending to take
the sheet and soak up the tears before they had a chance to fall. But at the
last second, he grabbed Jared’s t-shirt instead and yanked him close. He had no
idea if what he was doing was right—in fact, there was a good chance it
wasn’t—but suddenly it was the only thing he
could
do.

He
connected with Jared’s lips in an abrupt kiss, so forceful it was more like an
attack. After a few seconds it melted into something softer, though, and when
he finally pulled away, he could feel Jared trembling just as much as he was.

“No,
Jared,” he whispered. “That’s not what I want.”

Jared
swallowed, his eyes held wide, probably to keep from blinking out the tears. “You
know, I don’t really think telling people she lied would work. And anyways, Ben
already knows—”

It
took every ounce of restraint Connor had not to shout from the joy that filled
him. Without thinking, he pulled Jared into another hungry kiss.

His
face was wet, but he wasn’t sure if the tears belonged to him, or to Jared. Or
maybe to both of them.

“Does
that mean you’re going to—”

“Stop,”
Jared commanded.

Connor
snapped his mouth shut and backed away.

“No,
listen.” Jared grabbed him close again, pulling him down onto the bed. “I don’t
want to talk about it right now, okay? Not right now.” He inched closer to
Connor’s lips, eyes desperate with an entirely different need. A need that
spread to Connor like wildfire.

Even
after all the time apart, he fell back into the negative space of Jared’s form
with complete ease. Urgency radiated from Jared’s tense body, but for a while,
there was nothing but lips and tongue, frantically reconnecting. They plunged
into kiss after kiss, Connor’s mouth starved for the contact it had been denied
so long.

Except…he
wanted more. Didn’t Jared?

Connor
tried to convey his readiness through his fingertips, clutching fiercely at
Jared’s shoulders. He received a few deep kisses for his effort.

That
wasn’t enough. His patience ran out, and he slipped his hand beneath the covers
to find the button to Jared’s pants. Within a second, Jared was following his
lead, warm fingers sneaking under the band of his khakis.

So
Jared had just been waiting for
him
to make the first move.

They
tumbled into a rhythmic grinding, and Connor took them both in hand. He coaxed
Jared to the edge, panting with pleasure at the little grunt Jared let out when
he came. His own cry was smothered in a heavy kiss.

Jared
held him tightly, mingling the come between their bodies. He ran his fingers
through Connor’s hair, and for the first time in over twenty-four hours, the
ghost of a smile crossed his face.

Connor
returned it, tucking his head in against Jared’s neck. He breathed in the
sweat-moistened air caught there as the frenzied heat of passion ebbed away. Once
it had left, though, doubts and fears rapidly took its place.

What
was he doing? Everything about their relationship was completely up in the air,
and he’d just succumbed to physical desires before taking the time to figure
anything out. Where did they stand? Where would they stand tomorrow, in the
light of day?

“Jared…”
He invaded the post-orgasm silence. “We still need to talk about things—”

“I
know.” Jared breathed heavily against his hair. “I know this doesn’t fix
everything, but right now, I just want to hold you, Connor. Please. I just want
to hold you.”

Lips
pressed against Jared’s trembling throat, Connor nodded. “I guess we can talk
about it later.”

***

Connor
awoke early the next morning, still wrapped in Jared’s arms. He untangled
himself and slipped off to the shower.

The
water trickling from the cheap showerhead hit the floor in a steady
pitter-patter
rhythm, and he stood outside the cascade to create a simple accompanying melody.
Eventually he had to step into the stream, though, and the music vanished, allowing
his thoughts back in.

Beyond
the sexual intimacy, holding Jared had felt
right.
Different than
before, but in a good way, as though some of the fronts they’d put up to
protect themselves had been stripped, leaving them bare, yet safe. Everything else
in both their worlds might have been upside-down, but he couldn’t deny that
connection.

Still,
if Jared were really going to accept what Ronnie had forced on him, he had a
difficult road ahead…and there was always the chance he’d decide he couldn’t
take it.

Connor
scrubbed his scalp, fingers jerking erratically through his hair. He hated the
feeling of powerlessness—as familiar as it was. He didn’t want that in
his life anymore.

As
Rebecca might say, he needed a plan of action.

When
he reentered the room, Jared was still asleep, his dark curls spread across the
white pillowcase. Connor sat on the edge of the bed and ran his hand over the greasy
locks.