I went home to Flagstaff the next day. I couldn’t find Jayden anywhere and Evander refused to disclose his whereabouts. I decided not to pursue him until I could be what he wanted.

Me. The real me.

I was going to talk to my father, but I needed some down time before I went at him with both guns. I didn’t care how much he’s changed now. Back then, he’d made me feel like a freak. I loved boy bands back in middle school. I did have a crush on Lance Bass. I wanted to look like him, sound like him, and have everything he had. I had posters of The Backstreet Boys, NSYNC, and a few others on my wall, and I even practiced dance steps. I found guys attractive when I was thirteen, I got boners in school watching the athletes. My father found me jacking off to a poster and that was it. He took all my posters and CDs and told me if I kept listening to that kind of music, I’d end up gay and he was not going to have a gay son.

I crossed my living room to my CD player and opened the cabinet to my secret CD collection. I turned the volume up as high as it would go and stood in my backyard as Bye, Bye, Bye by NSYNC blasted out across the desert. I was startled to hear singing along my back wall and then Harley poked his head up over it. I laughed as Harley shouted the lyrics. We both began singing and I let Harley in the back gate. We danced around the pool, singing the lyrics at the top of our lungs. We went back in the house and I shut off the CD player, collapsing with laughter. Harley sprawled out on the couch holding his stomach.

“Dude! I didn’t know you liked that music!” I laughed.

“I would say I don’t, but then I wouldn’t be able to explain knowing the lyrics.”

“I thought you hated boy bands?”

“That was you. I never said such a thing.”

I sat on the floor and regarded my best friend. He was laughing, but there was sadness behind those eyes.

“You saw your parents?”

“Yep.”

“How did that go?”

“Same ol’, same ol’. I gave them tickets for the finale.”

“Harley.” I shook my head. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, that’s why I’m here. Can I stay? I didn’t want to be alone.”

“I’m sure you’re not alone. Where’s Achilles?”

“I lost him somewhere on the freeway.” Harley grinned.

“Are you sure about that?”

Harley’s grin faded and I laughed.

“I need to find Jayden, but they won’t tell me where he is.” I sighed, rubbing my face.

“Well, we could play detective.”

“I’ve got a better idea.” I stood up and tilted my head to the side. “Achilles?”

“What?”

I jumped in the air as Achilles poked his head in through the back door.

“Nice try, Harley,” Achilles said as he walked into my house. “Nice concert out back,” he added.

“Blowing off some steam,” I explained somewhat defensively. “I need your help.”

Achilles dropped on the couch next to Harley, bouncing him into the air, and gave him a fierce look. He turned back to me and nodded his head. “What do you need?”

“Um, you’re like Special Forces and stuff, right?”

“Former, but yes.”

“Could you find someone for me?”

“Jayden?” Achilles searched my face.

“Yes.”

“Should be able to give you a location in no time. In the meantime,” Achilles glared at Harley. “If you’re staying here, so am I.”

“Is there some reason why you can’t get off my ass?” Harley groused.

“Hang on, I’ve been waiting for this. I’ve got a list.” Achilles reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet and lifted out a piece of paper covered in barely legible scrawls. “Because you’re unreasonable, rash, impulsive, impetuous, reckless, irrational, indiscreet, infantile, and flaky.” He turned the paper and squinted. “And you’re a chipmunk. Huh? Oops, sorry. That says ‘childlike’.”

“Thank you!” Harley batted his lashes.

“Where are the other Marvel Men?” I asked, smothering a laugh.

“Axel is with Gareth and Ransom, Buster and Hammer are with Rebel. I think they’re playing pool in town.”

“So, do you think Hammer and Buster might ever break into song?” Harley mused.

“No.”

“Will you?”

“No.”

I laughed as Harley gave Achilles his best pout. Many women had fallen prey to Harley Payne’s pout.

We sat around watching Netflix for a while before I said goodnight. Harley was out, a slight snore his only contribution to the conversation. I needed to be up early to confront my father and find Jayden. I looked over my shoulder as I left the living room. Achilles was placing one of my throw blankets over a sleeping Harley. Harley needed someone to take care of him and Achilles fit that bill. I smiled as I watched them. I wanted that ─ someone who I could take care of and who could take care of me.

I needed Jayden.

 

~*~

I went to my parents’ house in the morning. I needed to get my boxes from the attic and talk to Dad. No one was home when I got there, so I used my key to get in. The house was warm and smelled like coffee. I grabbed a cup on the way up to the attic. I stood at the bottom of the stairs and willed myself to go up there. Fucking thing freaked me out, like ‘The Grudge’ was up there or something. I shivered and took a deep breath. I pulled the string and stairs folded out.

I climbed halfway up and reached up to hit the light switch, illuminating the attic. The smell of mothballs assaulted me and I swiped at a cobweb. A row of boxes lined one wall and I headed that way. My name was on a few of them and I pulled one down, searching through the contents. The first one contained some old books and pictures. I dragged another one down and found some of my old baseball hats and clothes.

The third box held a lot of the things my grandfather had left to me, including his old military uniform and some pictures of him behind his drum set. I traced his face with my finger. I missed him. I missed having coffee with him and laughing about bullshit stuff. I caught sight of another box across from me and dragged it over. I opened it and gasped. It was all my posters and CDs that my father took from me. Why keep them? Why not just throw them out like he said he would? The front door shut downstairs and paper rustled. I poked my head out of the attic.

“Hello?”

“Josiah?” my father called out.

“Yes, I’m up in the attic.”

“I’ll come up.”

“No, I really want to come out. Can you help me with the boxes?”

“Sure.”

I waited for my father to appear at the bottom of the ladder before I slid the first box at him. It was the one with my posters and CDs.

“Why didn’t you destroy them like you said you would?” I yelled.

“Because I couldn’t,” he said quietly.

I lowered another box to him, which he caught, and then another and another. Finally, I didn’t have any more of mine to move.

“Josiah, please come down so that I can talk to you.”

I grabbed my now-cold coffee and descended the steps, moving by him on my way to the kitchen. He followed behind me silently. I poured another cup of coffee and dropped into one of the kitchen chairs. He poured his own cup and then stood there, staring into his cup as if it would tell him what to say.

“Well?” I glared at him.

“I’m not perfect, Josiah; none of us are. I’ve made mistakes with you that I’m ashamed of. I thought it was a failure on my part that you were attracted to boys, that I didn’t spend enough time with you.”

“No, I spent time with Grandpa, he must have made me gay,” I said wryly.

“I know that’s not what happened. My father never had a problem with gays, he was in the military and surrounded by people from all walks of life. He didn’t teach me bigotry, I did that on my own. My friends in school, we always knew when a boy liked his bread buttered on a different side.”

“Well, that’s … a different expression.”

“We thought they were weaker, more feminine than us. And I’m ashamed to say, I was a bully.” My father shook his head sadly.

“I like women and men, Pop. I just couldn’t get either when I was younger.”

“You’re that same Josiah, son. You have a very caring heart and the mind of a poet. You see things no one else does. You see beauty all around where we see nothing. I was very wrong to treat you as I did and I am so truly sorry.” My father wiped at his eyes.

I had only seen my dad cry twice  ̶ when my grandfather got sick, and at his funeral. Well, that took the wind out of my sails and my anger vanished. I stood up and crossed to my father.

“I know you love me, I knew it back then, too. I just … I wanted to be me.”

“And I love you. I know I should have become the man I am now back then, and it took cancer to make me see that life is short. You were with me every step of the way, staying home with me, cleaning up after me when your mom had to work. After everything I said and did to you, you still took care of me.”

“You’re my Pops.” I smiled.

“I am so very proud of you, Josiah.”

“Yeah? Even if I’m falling for a guy?”

My father’s eyes widened. “You’re falling in love?”

“Yes, did you hear the part where it’s a guy?”

“That’s of no consequence. My son is finally falling in love? I want to hear all about this man.”

“Are you on meds?” I stared at him.

“Come! Sit! Let us talk about this man.”

I told my dad all about Jayden. He listened attentively and even made some suggestions on how to get Jayden back. All in all, it was one weird morning. I made blueberry muffins, and when Mom came home, we all sat down together like we used to.

As a family.

To say Mom was excited about my potential love life was an understatement. I showed them pictures of Jayden that I looked up online and my mother patted her chest.

“He is so beautiful, Josiah! You’ve done well.” She waggled her brows.

“He likes me for me, ya know? The guy I used to be before I became Jinx- asshole-Jett.”

“No swear words at the table,” my mother giggled.

“You were not an ass, Josiah, you were angry,” Dad pointed out.

“That’s no excuse for the way I treated some of those women. In my next interview, I’ll apologize to them.”

“Are you staying for dinner?” Mom asked hopefully.

“Yes. Are you making mac and cheese?”

“But of course!”

My phone beeped with a text from Achilles. He’d found Jayden and was tracking him.

“Can I get that mac and cheese to go?”

“Of course. What is it?” my mother asked.

“They’ve located Jayden.”

“Why are you still here?” my father smiled.

“I’ll just make you a to-go package.” My mother hurried off to the kitchen.

“Jinx?”

“Yes?”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks, Pop.”