Read Online Excessica Anthology BOX SET Winter by Edited by Selena Kitt - Free Book Online
Authors: Edited by Selena Kitt
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paying attention, he would have known Brad
was going to say this. It's not that Spencer wasn't paying attention, it's that
he didn't think—he didn't want to think about it. He didn't even
want to contemplate the possibility he'd have to think about it. This method
has rarely worked for Spencer in the past, so he doesn't know why he keeps
trying it.
When he hears
Brad say his name, Spencer realizes all the time that passed in his head while
he was thinking just now has also passed outside his head, wordlessly. He
doesn't know what to say. Since he's already had to think about it, he tries
thinking more.
He does more
than think; he imagines: all the people who will be there. Not that he'll know
any of them, of course. In his imagination, they are faceless. How they can
make so much noise without mouths, Spencer doesn't know—but they do. A
cacophony. Not even the music can drown it out. It's worse than any grocery
store Spencer has ever been to, and twice as bright even when the house lights
dim, because there's a spotlight on him, even though he's only sitting in the
audience. Everyone can see him and how he doesn't fit in, how his face doesn’t
match theirs, how he doesn't belong.
Again Brad says
his name. Spencer shakes his head. He can't. He can't even tell Brad that he
can't.
"I'm
sorry," Brad says. His hand hovers but doesn't touch, then falls back to
his side. "I shouldn't have—look, it's all right. I can give the
ticket to Ronnie or something."
Spencer doesn't
say anything, and Brad doesn't say anything else.
When they get to
the apartment, Spencer fumbles for his key. He has to concentrate to get it
into the lock, and then to turn it the right way once it's in. Finally, he gets
the tumbler to click and the knob to twist.
"Hey,
Spencer." Brad's voice is soft. When Spencer glances at him, Brad says
again, "I'm sorry." He looks like he wants to say more, but he
doesn't. He looks at Spencer, and the regret looks so terrible that Spencer has
to look away. Spencer focuses on his hand on the doorknob as he turns it.
"I'll just—" Brad starts. "I'm going to see if Ronnie's
still in."
Spencer doesn't
look and he doesn't say anything, not until he has the door open and one foot
inside it. "You're not coming in?"
Half-way to
Ronnie's door, Brad turns back to him. "Do you want me to?" The
regret is still there, but there's something pushing in from the edges.
Something so familiar, but elusive. Then Spencer remembers it: hope.
As Spencer looks
down this time, the plastic bag from the convenience store catches his eye.
"I don't like sour cream and onion," he says.
With a sinking
feeling, he realizes too late that Brad might take the sour cream and onion
chips to Ronnie's.
Brad comes
closer, close enough to touch. He doesn't touch Spencer, but he does say,
"Then I guess I should come in." He smiles when Spencer looks at him,
even though Spencer can't smile back, not yet; Brad smiles enough for both of
them.
* * * *
Brad doesn't
come on regular days to see Ronnie anymore, but when he does, Spencer sometimes
goes over, too. On Fridays, Friday after Friday, Brad comes to see Spencer, and
they hang out, just the two of them.
One evening as
they're walking to the convenience store, they find themselves face-to-face
with the homeless guy, who has popped up from around a corner. The homeless guy
looks at Spencer, and Spencer can't help looking back.
"This your
new boyfriend, Allison?" The homeless guy jerks a thumb at Brad.
Spencer doesn't
know what to say.
The homeless guy
turns to Brad. "You better not hurt her," he tells Brad. "You
better not make her cry."
Spencer doesn't
know what to say. But Brad does.
"I
won't," Brad says seriously, meeting the homeless guy's eyes. "I
promise."
The homeless guy
holds the stare a moment longer. Then he nods, satisfied with whatever he has
seen in Brad. He glances over at Spencer again, not quite meeting his eyes this
time. "Merry Christmas, Allison. Take care of
was going to say this. It's not that Spencer wasn't paying attention, it's that
he didn't think—he didn't want to think about it. He didn't even
want to contemplate the possibility he'd have to think about it. This method
has rarely worked for Spencer in the past, so he doesn't know why he keeps
trying it.
When he hears
Brad say his name, Spencer realizes all the time that passed in his head while
he was thinking just now has also passed outside his head, wordlessly. He
doesn't know what to say. Since he's already had to think about it, he tries
thinking more.
He does more
than think; he imagines: all the people who will be there. Not that he'll know
any of them, of course. In his imagination, they are faceless. How they can
make so much noise without mouths, Spencer doesn't know—but they do. A
cacophony. Not even the music can drown it out. It's worse than any grocery
store Spencer has ever been to, and twice as bright even when the house lights
dim, because there's a spotlight on him, even though he's only sitting in the
audience. Everyone can see him and how he doesn't fit in, how his face doesn’t
match theirs, how he doesn't belong.
Again Brad says
his name. Spencer shakes his head. He can't. He can't even tell Brad that he
can't.
"I'm
sorry," Brad says. His hand hovers but doesn't touch, then falls back to
his side. "I shouldn't have—look, it's all right. I can give the
ticket to Ronnie or something."
Spencer doesn't
say anything, and Brad doesn't say anything else.
When they get to
the apartment, Spencer fumbles for his key. He has to concentrate to get it
into the lock, and then to turn it the right way once it's in. Finally, he gets
the tumbler to click and the knob to twist.
"Hey,
Spencer." Brad's voice is soft. When Spencer glances at him, Brad says
again, "I'm sorry." He looks like he wants to say more, but he
doesn't. He looks at Spencer, and the regret looks so terrible that Spencer has
to look away. Spencer focuses on his hand on the doorknob as he turns it.
"I'll just—" Brad starts. "I'm going to see if Ronnie's
still in."
Spencer doesn't
look and he doesn't say anything, not until he has the door open and one foot
inside it. "You're not coming in?"
Half-way to
Ronnie's door, Brad turns back to him. "Do you want me to?" The
regret is still there, but there's something pushing in from the edges.
Something so familiar, but elusive. Then Spencer remembers it: hope.
As Spencer looks
down this time, the plastic bag from the convenience store catches his eye.
"I don't like sour cream and onion," he says.
With a sinking
feeling, he realizes too late that Brad might take the sour cream and onion
chips to Ronnie's.
Brad comes
closer, close enough to touch. He doesn't touch Spencer, but he does say,
"Then I guess I should come in." He smiles when Spencer looks at him,
even though Spencer can't smile back, not yet; Brad smiles enough for both of
them.
* * * *
Brad doesn't
come on regular days to see Ronnie anymore, but when he does, Spencer sometimes
goes over, too. On Fridays, Friday after Friday, Brad comes to see Spencer, and
they hang out, just the two of them.
One evening as
they're walking to the convenience store, they find themselves face-to-face
with the homeless guy, who has popped up from around a corner. The homeless guy
looks at Spencer, and Spencer can't help looking back.
"This your
new boyfriend, Allison?" The homeless guy jerks a thumb at Brad.
Spencer doesn't
know what to say.
The homeless guy
turns to Brad. "You better not hurt her," he tells Brad. "You
better not make her cry."
Spencer doesn't
know what to say. But Brad does.
"I
won't," Brad says seriously, meeting the homeless guy's eyes. "I
promise."
The homeless guy
holds the stare a moment longer. Then he nods, satisfied with whatever he has
seen in Brad. He glances over at Spencer again, not quite meeting his eyes this
time. "Merry Christmas, Allison. Take care of
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