Chapter Five

MOST of the time Ethan used a cart at work to deliver food and refills to customers, but if the coffee shop got too crowded, he had to use a tray. He didn’t like to use it because of his balance problems. He dropped it the first time, caught up in the excitement of having a job, and stood sucking the burn while the shattered mugs and upturned plates lay at his feet while everyone stared.

He had a tray today. He concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Both hands on the tray, thumbs tucked as close to the edge as possible. Since the first spill, he didn’t carry hot beverages, but the coffee shop still seemed to double in size as he walked from one end to the other. Reaching the table he was aiming for, he set the tray down with a relieved sigh.

“Thanks, Ethan,” Mike said. He took his sandwich off the tray. Sometimes people expected Ethan to set their plate on the table for them. The worst was when there was no room to put the tray down.

“You’re welcome,” Ethan said. Mike came in every day and he always talked to Ethan. He was really nice. He was good-looking and about the same age as Ethan, but not Ethan’s type, which wasn’t to say that Ethan wouldn’t have sex with him if Mike wanted, but Mike never talked about stuff like that or complimented how Ethan’s pants fit, which was another way of saying that Ethan had a big penis. Ethan had told him about the car hitting him, and sometimes if he needed extra help, Mike offered to give him a hand.

Douglas sat across from Mike. He always had his hood up and he never smiled. He hardly ever talked, but he came in every day with Mike. Ethan didn’t like him very much.

Mike tugged Ethan’s sleeve. “We should go out sometime, Ethan.”

“And do what?” Ethan asked, curious.

“Anything you want. You like the beach, right?”

“Sure!”

Mike grinned. “Great! Well, when this rain stops, we’ll head out there.”

“Okay.” Ethan grinned back. “I have to go back to work now.”

“Sure thing.”

Ethan walked away feeling buzzy and happy. The feeling dimmed when he heard Douglas say, “What the fuck are you thinking?”

Ducking into the back of the shop to avoid hearing the rest, Ethan scrubbed his eyes to get rid of the stupid tears that had popped into them.

At least he had going to Carter’s to look forward to. He went over every day after work. Carter hadn’t left his house since they went to the beach together. He said he had a lot of work to do, but Ethan didn’t think that was the only reason. Elliot’s teasing had really hurt him. Ethan understood about wanting to hide out with hurt feelings, so he didn’t pressure Carter to get over it. That never helped.

Pepper curled around Ethan’s legs. Crouching, he scratched her gray head and tickled her pointy ears. She purred against his hand.

“Did you keep those bad mice away?” Ethan asked. Pepper flopped onto her side so he could scratch her stomach.

“Hey.” Andy stuck his head into the back. “I need some help out here.”

“Sorry,” Ethan said. “I was just saying hi to Pepper.”

“You all right?” Andy leaned further into the dim light of the back room.

Ethan turned away and wiped his eyes on his wrist. “Fine.”

“Did something happen?’

“Douglas.”

“Still being a jerk?” Andy asked.

“Yeah.”

“Well, he and Mike left. So, think you can come back now?”

“Okay.”

Andy pointed at Pepper. “And you get back to work too.” Pepper yawned and stretched on her side.

“I don’t think she’s going to,” Ethan said.

Andy shook his head in disappointment. “Cats.”

PUTTING the house in order went quickly when Carter used unpacking and organizing to distract himself from the fact that he was hiding. I lasted a whole week without becoming a hermit. Alice will be so proud. On the upside, the house looked pretty good. Ethan had helped him with the decor. He had a good eye for color. At Ethan’s insistence, they spent a lot of time online looking at throw pillows, art reproductions, and drapes. Ethan had twisted Carter’s arm on the goldenrod and red color scheme for the living room, but after Carter caved and bought the curtains and three throw pillows, he liked how they brought the room together with his otherwise mismatched furniture.

Ethan was on him about the kitchen now, trying to convince Carter to stain his table and paint his chairs’ legs and backs a different color than the stained wooden seat. Carter would cave eventually, like he had done with the living room and with Ethan’s idea to mount Carter’s guitar on the wall so it could double as decoration when he wasn’t playing.

The guitar was in place in its brackets on the sloping paneling that followed the stairs upward. Carter lay on the couch half-asleep and half-watching the television. He was being an idiot, letting stupid kids get to him like that. Elliot had sent a letter to apologize. It was as brusque as he was. Sorry for teasing you. It was wrong. Then, in smaller print, but you should get that checked out. Carter had been tempted to dump his box of Tourette’s Syndrome pamphlets, some old enough to be in museums, on Elliot’s porch, but that would necessitate leaving the house. He knew he was being over-sensitive. Elliot was a fifteen-year-old kid, and Carter hadn’t gone into hiding when he was fifteen and his classmates mocked him. Carter was an adult now, which meant he was supposed to be mature.

It also meant he could go into hiding if he wanted to. He hadn’t done a damn thing with his day except watch the first season of The Vampire Diaries on DVD. The sound of a car’s slowing tires drew his attention to the window. Alice had pulled into his driveway. Oh fuck. Sitting up, Carter pulled his fingers through his unwashed hair and sniffed his armpits. He’d never pass. Was it Saturday already? Fuck. He plastered on a smile and went to meet her at the door.

Alice shifted the box she held onto her hip and gave him a one-armed hug. “Hey, babe.” She pulled back with a wrinkled nose. “Did you skip your shower this week?”

“Ha ha.” She was only off by a few days, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. “Let me take that.” The box wasn’t as heavy as its size implied, but the light boxes could be deceptive. He might be looking at a month’s worth of work once he opened it. But that was good—he was running out of things to do; he needed a big project for an excuse to continue avoiding people.

“When’s the last time you left the house?” Alice gestured at Carter’s sweatpants and ragged T-shirt that he’d slept in. “Have you been out since I was here?”

“Yes,” Carter said. “I’ve been out with the neighbors.” He tilted his stance to block her view of the empty pizza box on the floor.

“When was that?”

“Um.”

“Carter,” she said, in a way that stuck a hundred meanings, none of them good, into his name. “Are you talking about the trip to the beach last week? Are you saying you haven’t seen anyone since then?”

“I’ve seen people.” He set the box on his desk.

“Who?”

“Ethan. He comes over.”

“Okay. That’s good. Human contact is very good.”

“Yeah. Thought you’d like that.”

“It’s not the same as going out, of course. Who else? The pizza guy?”

“Alice….” Picking up the pizza box, he walked past her into the kitchen. She followed right behind.

“Well, did something happen? You seemed fine last week.”

Despite his best efforts to keep his frustration in check, he shoved the box into the trash with too much force, and one side of the loosely fitted trash bag came free.

“Carter. Hey.” Alice spoke gently, but he kept his back to her, using the trash bag as an excuse.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Someone made fun of you.”

“Yes.”

He was grateful when instead of asking for details she put her arms around him from behind. “I’m sorry.”

He squeezed her hand. “Thanks.”

“But you still can’t hide away.”

Stepping out of her arms, he turned around. “Try me.”

“I knew I should have come last weekend. I’m sorry I couldn’t get away.” She sat down at the table. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”

He handed her a cold soda from the refrigerator. “Yeah, me neither.” The doorbell rang. “That’s Ethan.”

“I can’t wait to meet him,” Alice said. She stood up.

“You’ll love him. He’s pushy too.”

If not for Ethan coming over—at first because Carter’s absence made him worry that Carter was angry at him, and then every night for music and to help with the house—Carter would have no contact with anyone (except the pizza guy). Ethan connected him to the outside world. Carter liked to think that Ethan enjoyed having this responsibility, even though it was one Carter hated giving him. Carter would walk out the door one day soon. Start slow again, maybe in a situation where he didn’t have to talk, and go from there.

The previous afternoon Ethan had pulled him into the backyard. Placing his hands on either side of Carter’s face as he stood behind him, Ethan had tilted Carter’s gaze toward the sky. “Listen.”

Carter couldn’t hear all the things Ethan did—he didn’t have the gift for finding every snippet of music—but he’d tried. He’d concentrated on the grass, the clouds, the wind, and the emptiness between what he could see, where music could rush in and out like a thief.

“I think I… maybe, a whistle?” Carter turned, seeking Ethan’s response to know if he’d listened right.

“Everything’s music,” Ethan had said. He’d put his arm around Carter, so light Carter barely felt the touch. “I’m glad you can hear it too.”

Carter had stepped away from him and looked up.

“Wait until night,” Ethan had said, “when you can hear the stars.”

Carter had gone out again after dark, after Ethan was home. He’d stood in the same place and imagined Ethan guiding him to look at a certain spot in the sky. He’d found the spaces between the distant twinkles and listened. It was harder to hear (or to imagine he heard) without Ethan there, but he did the best he could. It was like rushing, like water, and distant bells, a cat maybe, and, deep, deep in the distance, so far he almost couldn’t reach it, longing like he’d never felt before.

He’d never known need had a sound.

The doorbell rang again. “He’s not good at waiting,” Carter said, in part apology to Alice.

“It’s understandable. I don’t like waiting to see you either,” Alice said.

Carter went to open the door. “You took a long time,” Ethan said. Ethan wore shorts and a Red Cross T-shirt. He had no shoes or socks—he often didn’t—and his toenails were painted a new shade of blue.

“Sorry,” Carter said. “Nice toes.” He showed Ethan his thumb, still painted green from the day before when Ethan had brought the polish over. Ethan had done his own nails and Carter’s thumb sitting at the kitchen table with a newspaper spread out under their hands to catch spills, but he’d been meticulous and done a salon-perfect job on his right hand. The left was a little shaky because, being left-handed, Ethan had more trouble controlling his right hand, but even with a few rough spots where the polish wasn’t even, the end result was still a thousand times better than Carter could have done. When he’d finished, there wasn’t a drop of polish on the newspaper.

“Thank you!” Ethan’s grin faltered as he looked over Carter’s shoulder.

Carter turned. Alice smiled at them. “Oh, this is Alice. My boss.”

“And his friend,” Alice said. She extended her hand to Ethan, who looked wary. Carter imagined it must be quite a shock to never see anyone else over and suddenly here’s a strange girl. But Alice soldiered through, keeping her voice pleasant without dipping into condescension. “Carter has told me a lot about you.”

“He has?” Ethan sounded amazed.

“I know you’re his best friend here,” Alice said.

Ethan’s hesitance faded as the statement sank in. He clasped Alice’s hand and shook it, his smile once again shining. “Yeah,” he said, “I am.”

“So, Carter tells me you like music too?” Soon Alice had Ethan’s full attention as she showed him the box she’d brought. Ethan sat enrapt as she explained what Carter did as a transposer. She walked Ethan through the plot of the show Carter would work on next, showed him the major songs, explained where they occurred in the story, how they moved the plot along (or in some cases how they “let the lead show off a little about being, you know, head over heels”) as Ethan nodded and took special care to look at each page as she handed it to him.

“You’ve never explained anything that thoroughly to me,” Carter said.

“You’ve never shown this much interest,” Alice said. Carter bit down a rush of jealousy as Ethan scooted closer to her like they were best buds.

“Carter is going to transpose all these songs?”

“Yep.” Alice saluted Carter with her soda. “That’s why he’s the best.”

Ethan turned to Carter. “Can I have a soda?”

“You don’t have to ask.” Ethan was probably just being lazy, or he didn’t want to leave Alice’s side. Most of the time Ethan headed for the refrigerator as soon as he arrived to help himself. Carter went to the kitchen and got one for himself too. He sat down on the couch and allowed himself a smidgen of satisfaction when Ethan scooted over to be next to him.