Rebound

Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:

1. If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You shouldn't be here.

2. I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or anything else. This is a work of pure fiction.

Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I enjoy constructive criticism, praise, and rational discussion. I do not enjoy flames, and will not tolerate them.

That said, we now continue.

Justin walked out from behind the counter and leaned against it, arms back behind him, soaking in a little of the poetry reading. A few of the people in the audience glanced at him, one or two with a little bit of a sneer, but I assumed that was more due to our minor disruption than it was from anyone recognizing him. Meg was watching him intently from her perch by the front register, and I was amused to note that while I was in talking to Justin she had shaken her hair out of the casual ponytail she had twisted it into earlier, and had produced lip gloss from somewhere in her purse. Michelle, on the other hand, seemed barely conscious of Justin's existence, and was watching me carefully as I shut off the light in my office. I walked over to her, trying to read the expression on her face.

"Did you win?" she whispered, leaning over. The crowd broke into applause again, and the poet closed her book, moving over toward the front, where Meg had a chair set up and stack of books waiting.

"Win what?" I asked, catching Meg's eye. I raised an eyebrow, and she gave me a thumbs up to let me know that she had the book signing under control.

"The argument," Michelle answered, glancing over at Justin. He was waiting in line behind a few people for his chance to talk to the poet. As if sensing our eyes on him, he turned and smiled, nodding at us as he put his hat back on.

"We called a truce," I said, shrugging. "We both apologized, and we're going to go to dinner and see if we can clear the air between us a little."

Michelle smirked at me, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"What?" I asked. "It wasn't that bad an argument."

"Whatever," she said, reaching for a cloth. She began polishing the counter.

"What?" I asked again. "Say it."

"Say what?" she asked, nodding at a customer who handed her a coffee cup. Before I could demand an explanation, Justin rejoined us at the counter.

"I apologized to the poet lady," he said, smiling. He really was a cute kid, sort of, and he didn't seem to have any problems at all filling out that turtleneck. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah," I answered, glancing at Michelle. She still had that look on her face, the one that said there was a really funny joke that I just didn't get. I would hammer some answers out of her in the morning. "Can you and Meg lock up?"

"Sure," she answered, shrugging. "See you in the morning."

I nodded to Meg and to the guest reader on my way out, wondering if the woman would ever say a good thing about us again, or if she would tell everyone that the owner got in an argument during her reading and disrupted everything. The small crowd didn't seem to mind either way, and I noticed that a lot of the guys had that expression that screams, "I'm here because my girlfriend said I had to come." They were all doing a really good job of looking jaded and poetic, though. Justin followed me out onto the sidewalk and fell into step alongside me.

"Where are we going?" he asked, looking around. It wasn't very long after dark, and the store was in a fairly safe part of town, so I figured we would be ok out on the sidewalks.

"There are some pretty good restaurants a couple of blocks from here," I said, pointing up the streets. Both of us had our hands jammed into our pockets, and were just kind of ambling along, not in a hurry. "Do you like seafood?"

"I guess so," Justin answered, shrugging. "I mean, I'll eat almost anything. I guess seafood's ok."

"Justin, you're in Boston," I pointed out. "Everyplace here serves seafood of some kind. I was just wondering if you wanted to go somewhere that had other stuff, or if that would be ok."

"Wherever you want to go is fine," he said, smiling brightly. I giggled, and he cocked his head to the side, curious. "What?"

"Nothing," I said, shaking my head. "It's just, you know, you don't have to try so hard to apologize. It's ok to disagree with me."

"I don't know," Justin began, staring at me innocently, eyes wide. "Last time I disagreed I got yelled at in your office, and then the time before that I got ditched at the airport. I don't know if I feel like getting pushed into oncoming traffic, too."

"Oh, you're funny," I said, grinning at him. "I said I was sorry, ok?"

"You're right, you did," he agreed. "Seafood is fine. Maybe I could get some chowder or something."

"Sure," I said, shrugging. I wasn't sure what else to say to that, as it didn't really seem to need a response. The two of us continued to walk along, Justin looking around at the sights while I glanced at him every once in a while. We didn't really know anything about each other, but after the two screaming matches in a row I wasn't really sure of how to break the ice.

"So, um, your work in that bookstore?" Justin asked.

"Sort of," I answered as we rounded the corner. There was a restaurant a couple of stores up that I knew was good, and which would also be quiet at this time of day. It was off the beaten tourist track, so there would just be neighborhood people there, and they wouldn't give Justin a second glance. "I own it."

"Really?" Justin asked, surprised. I nodded. "Wow, that's kind of cool. You own the whole thing?"

"Yeah," I answered, nodding.

"How old are you?" he asked. I blinked at him. "Well, you know, it seems pretty successful, and I was just, that seems really impressive for someone as young as you."

"As young as me?" I asked. He nodded. "Justin, I'm twenty five."

"That's not old," he said, shrugging. I held the door of the restaurant open for him, smiling.

"Maybe I'll buy your dinner," I said, grinning. He laughed.

"Maybe I'll let you," he said, grinning back. He had nice teeth, too.

"Chris, hi," the waitress said, walking over from where she'd been talking to the bartender. It was a small place, and I ate there often. "Two tonight!"

"Yeah," I said, eyes narrowing at her obvious surprise. Did everyone I knew have to make silent, and not so silent, judgments about everything I did? I looked at Justin as we took our seats. "Chowder?"

"Sure," he said, smiling.

"Lynn, can we have two big bowls, and some bread?" I asked. Lynn nodded. It was the kind of place where you didn't really need a menu, and she didn't write anything down. "Could I have a pint, too?"

"Sure thing," she said, patting my shoulder. Lynn was a big, grandmotherly type. "Pint for you, hon?"

"He's only twenty," I said, before Justin could answer. He looked a little miffed, but covered it quickly, smiling at Lynn.

"Could I have an iced tea?" he asked.

"Sure," she said, smiling at us both. "I'll have those drinks right out."

Lynn walked away, and Justin looked around the restaurant, which was really more of a pub. Following his eyes, I looked, too. There were a few couples at the tables, and a few people who lived around the neighborhood eating alone. I recognized a couple of the guys at the bar as regulars, and imagined that they had been there for a while, although I didn't know for sure. I usually didn't make it down here for a few more hours. The tables were thick wood, scarred and scratched, and Lynn brought the drinks out in plain glasses, setting a basket of break in the middle of the table. We both nodded a thank you, and Justin looked at me evenly over the top of his tea as he stirred the sweetener in.

"I wasn't going to order a beer," he said finally.

"Pardon?" I asked, pulling a roll out of the basket.

"I wasn't going to order a beer," he repeated. "Does my age bother you?"

"Why would it?" I asked.

"I don't know," Justin answered. "But you keep bringing it up. You keep talking about babysitting me, and then there's that, too. Is it some kind of an issue for you?"

I was about to say that it wasn't true, but I realized that he was right. I did keep bringing up his age, although I wasn't sure why. He was a grown adult, at least physically, and mentally he hadn't acted any less maturely than I had, but somehow, in my head, I just kept thinking of him as a little kid. I was being unfair, and I really needed to give him even more credit for bringing it up and calling me out on it without getting into another argument. I sighed.

"I don't mean to insult you, Justin," I said. "And I don't know why I keep bringing it up, really. I guess, I don't know, I just don't see that we really have much in common, and you being so much younger than I am is part of that."

"I'm not a kid, though," Justin said. "I know I'm only twenty, but I've done more than a lot of people twice my age. I've been places, and seen things. I'm not just some spoiled babe in the woods. I have, I guess you'd call it life experience."

"I know," I said, nodding. "I'm aware of that, and, like I said, I didn't mean to insult you. I'm sorry if I did."

The two of us were quiet for a moment as Lynn returned to the table, carrying two steaming bowls of clam chowder. Being dinner sized, they were rather large, the stoneware bowls thick and heavy. They made a thudding noise as she set them on the table, and she waited patiently for us to stir them and then take a taste.

"It's good?" she asked, waiting.

"Excellent, thank you," Justin answered, and I nodded. Lynn beamed and wandered off to check on another table. Justin turned back to me as I crumbled a handful of crackers over my bowl. "You're wrong, you know."

"About the soup?" I asked. "All I did was nod, but it is good."

"No, about you and me," Justin answered, taking another spoonful of his chowder. It was thick, full of clams, and I'd yet to be disappointed eating here. "You said we don't have anything in common, but we do. April."

"That's true," I said, nodding. "You and her are pretty good friends?"

"Yeah, we're really close," Justin said, smiling. "She was a good friend during a, um, a rough time for me, and she really helped me out a lot. She's good to talk to."

"Yeah, she is," I said, nodding. I wondered if whatever she had helped him with before was related to whatever it was that was going on now, but didn't think I should ask. I did, after all, barely know him, and didn't want to push.

"You guys are friends?" Justin asked. "I don't think she ever mentioned you, but I'm sure she has a lot of friends that she never talked about."

"We're kind of more like family," I answered. I didn't know if April had shared a lot of her family life with him, or how much she would want to. Then again, if she wanted me to hang out with Justin (I mentally checked myself from using the word "babysit" again) she must have assumed that at some point he and I would have to talk about something. "You could say I'm her brother in law."

"Really?" Justin asked, cocking his head to the side again. I'd noticed him doing that a lot, whenever he had a question, or stopped to think about something, and it was kind of a cute gesture. "I didn't know April had a sister."

"She doesn't," I answered, sipping my soup again.

"Oh," Justin answered uncertainly, his eyes flicking to my ringless hands. You could almost see the lightbulb go on over his head when he put it together. "Oh!"

I waited to see what he would say. I'm sure he met gay guys before, working in the music and entertainment industry, so I didn't expect him to jump up and leave the table, but you also never really knew what people thought. He looked down into his chowder, stirring it, as if it had suddenly become very interesting, and the silence yawned between us.

"Justin?" I asked finally. He looked up, blinking.

"Sorry," he said, a little sheepish grin crossing his face. "I didn't mean to go all quiet. I was just, you know, I was thinking, that's all. I'm cool with it, you know, with you."

"So glad you approve," I said, a little bit of an edge creeping in.

"That didn't come out right," Justin said quickly. "I was thinking about something, and that's why I didn't say anything. I didn't want you to think it was because of what you said. I don't have any problem with that at all, actually."

"Oh, good," I said, shrugging. Sometimes guys, especially straight guys, got really awkward around gay ones, thinking that we'd hit on them, or any number of other stupid misconceptions. Guys Justin's age, especially, didn't always act as mature about it as they could have, and I didn't want the rest of dinner to be really awkward. "I don't really have a problem with it, either."

He looked up, grinning, and I smiled to let him know it was ok, and I wasn't offended.

"So, you said April is kind of like your sister in law," Justin said, and I nodded. "Do you have any brothers and sisters of your own?"

"Nope," I answered. "I'm an only child. My mom and dad live in New York, out in the country, with a couple dogs and a bunch of cats. How about you? What's your family like?"

"I have a bunch more than you, I guess," he answered. "There's my mom and my stepdad, Paul, and my dad, Randall, and his wife, Lisa. I have two little brothers, too, Jon and Steve. They're really good kids, both of them."

"They sing, too?" I asked, curious. Was there a whole stable of little Timberlakes, like Nick Carter and his brother, or that girl from Destiny's Child and her sister?

"No, thankfully," Justin answered. I looked at him a little curiously, wondering why he sounded so glad that they weren't following in his footsteps. Wasn't he proud of what he did? I knew that it wasn't looked at as really serious music, but they worked hard at it, regardless.

"You don't want them to be singers?" I asked. "You don't want them onstage in shiny clothes with thousands of fans chanting their names?"

Justin laughed, catching the little bit of needling in my tone, but recognizing that it was playful.

"I want them to do whatever makes them happy," he answered. "I just don't know if I'd wish this kind of life on them. It's a lot of hard work, and we've given up a lot for it. It's not always easy, and sometimes, I don't know, sometimes I feel like it would be easier to not be who we are."

His face seemed to darken a little at that, and I remembered what he and April had both said about him having some problems right now. I wondered if maybe he was thinking of quitting his band, because for a second he looked that unhappy, and a shadow seemed to pass over his face. As quickly as I thought I saw it, though, it was gone, and he was smiling again. As I'd noticed before, his face looked a little odd when it was blank, his mouth seeming small and his nose kind of large, but when he smiled it all seemed to balance out somehow, to brighten, and his eyes were almost an electric blue.

"My family's always there for me, though," he said, but it seemed brittle, almost false. If his family was always there for him, why was he flying off to Boston to hang out with a close friend? Shouldn't he be with them, or with Britney? Every tabloid I saw let me know that they were dating. I didn't feel like I knew him well enough to ask about any of that, though. "They support what I do. I mean, in the beginning, my mom actually toured with us, since I was only fourteen. She didn't want me out on the road by myself, especially not in Europe. What about you?"

"Me?" I asked, not following. "I've been to London, but that's it. I haven't been to the rest of Europe."

Justin laughed, not just giggling, but outright laughing, and when he saw that I was completely confused he dissolved, laughing even harder.

"I didn't mean that," he said, still giggling. "Oh, God, 'I've been to London.' That's great, Chris. What I was trying to ask, though, was about your family. Are they, um, supportive of you? Of, you know, that whole thing?"

"It's ok to say it out loud, Justin," I said, seeing the humor in my misspeaking. "You can use the G word."

"I didn't want to, you know, presume something," he said. "I didn't know how comfortable you were with that. Sometimes it's not the right word, or the right way to say it."

"It's ok, Justin," I said again. "But thanks for being concerned."

I hoped it was because he cared about my feelings, and not because he was afraid of pissing me off again.

"My parents aren't unsupportive," I answered carefully. "They took the whole gay thing really well, and they were always nice to Matthew when they saw him, but they're not ever going to be out at the front of the parade or anything. They still love me, and they accepted Matt, but I think they've always wished I wasn't like this."

Both of us were quiet for a second. Justin was eating more of his chowder, even though our bowls were almost empty, his eyebrows scrunched down in thought. I was looking into my bowl, too. I had shared a little bit more than I usually did, and couldn't figure out how he'd managed to slip right past my wall so easily.

"Matthew is April's brother?" Justin asked finally. I looked up, and saw that he looked concerned, as if worried about his questions.

"Yeah," I answered, not elaborating. This was a bad area for me, a thing I didn't really want to or even like to talk about, but I knew he was going to ask.

"That's how you met April?" he asked, and I nodded again, swallowing. My chowder seemed impossibly thick suddenly, or maybe it was the lump in my throat. "I remember how I met her. She started in our office, and I didn't really notice her at first, but then she got assigned to be my assistant. I had a couple, and she was one of them for that semester when she was there, and she and I just hit it off really well. She was so easy to talk to."

"She's always been like that," I said, nodding. "She's so damn social, and she's always been the kind of person who's there when you need someone to listen to you. I love her to death, and Matt did, too. I always wondered how she ended up being friends with you."

"It just kind of happened," he said, shrugging. "I was going through a rough time then, too, and she listened to me, and helped me feel better."

"She listens to me, too," I said, looking down. "I try to return the favor, though. That's how I ended up picking you up."

"And here we are," Justin said, smiling. His hands dropped into his lap, and he bit his lip nervously. "Can I ask about the rest?"

"You mean Matthew," I said, clarifying, and he nodded. "Can I ask why?"

He swallowed.

"I'm not trying to pry or anything, if that's what you're worried about," Justin said. "It's just that, well, April and I are close friends, and she's never talked about him. And I saw that you have a picture of him in your office, there at the bookstore, but he's not here. You both talk about him in the past tense, but what happened to him? Did he get sick, or, I don't know, did he leave? You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to, but you just looked so sad there for a minute, and I wanted to know if I could help."

I looked at him carefully, and saw that he seemed to be sincere. It wasn't just morbid curiosity or something, just him being nosy. He was watching me earnestly, his eyes wide, and I thought maybe he did want me to feel better. Wait, wasn't I supposed to be taking care of him? He didn't even know me, really.

"I'm not surprised April hasn't talked to you about him," I said, folding my hands on the tabletop. My appetite was sinking fast, anyway. "She barely mentions him to me. It's her way of dealing with it, I guess. She still comes over and hangs out at the store, or has dinner up in the apartment. She and I talk every day, but there's always that one thing we don't talk about. It's really odd, actually, because if it wasn't for Matt, April and I wouldn't even know each other."

"Tell me about him," Justin asked, cocking his head again. "What was he like? I mean, it's obvious that you love him very much, both of you. How did you meet him?"

"I met Matt in college, my freshman year," I said, thinking back. "We went to school here in Boston. I came from New York, on a scholarship, and when I got here I was a little shy thing. I still am, kind of. I'm not really extroverted, like you."

"Were you out?" Justin asked, leaning forward. He pushed his bowl aside, and Lynn walked by and picked it up, dropping off another iced tea and smiling at us. "Did you know you were gay then?"

"Yes, I did," I answered. "I went to the gay group thing on campus, but it wasn't really my scene. There didn't seem to be anywhere that was my scene, so I just kind of kept to myself. I was in this little tiny single room, on the top floor of the building, and Matt lived down the hall. He was like the complete opposite of me. He was always in a big group of guys, and I knew he was on the rugby team and the baseball team. I kind of thought, at first, that he was just a big dumb jock, but he seemed like a nice guy, and I found out later that he was actually pretty good with numbers. He graduated with a business degree, and he was good at what he did. He was good at everything he did, actually, and there I was, this little geeky kid who didn't hang out with anyone, and lived in that little closet at the end of the hall, and always had my face buried in a book."

"You're not geeky," Justin said, smiling. I smiled, too, remembering the happy times. "I mean, you know, you've got a little bit of a build there."

"Matt's influence," I said, shrugging. "I've always naturally been skinny, but I was never in a gym before I met him. That was later, though. In the beginning it was just me, and then one day in the cafeteria Matt came and sat down at my table. I knew who he was, because, like I said, he knew everybody, but I had no idea why he was sitting with me. He didn't have anyone with him, and I don't think I'd ever seen him up close before. You saw that picture of him, Justin. He was hot, and just being that near to him made me feel a little nervous, but it wasn't just that. He had this confidence, and it just seemed to glow out of him. He said hi, sat down, and pulled my book out of my hands."

"What did you do?" Justin asked, grinning.

"I didn't know what to do," I said, giggling a little. "I mean, who does that? He just pulled it out of my hands and closed it, and I thought maybe he wasn't as nice as he seemed. It was the kind of thing that a bully would do, that kids had done to me in high school, but when I looked up, he had this big smile on his face, and I didn't know what to think. I said, 'I was reading that,' and he nodded. He was still smiling, and then he said, 'You shouldn't read so much.'"

"Isn't that sort of the point of college?" Justin asked.

"That's what I was thinking," I said. "I was so confused that I didn't realize it was a line."

"What?" Justin asked, leaning forward.

"It was a line," I answered, grinning. "He said that, and I was like, 'What?', and he said, 'You have really amazing eyes, and if you have your face in a book all the time it's really hard for me to stare at them.'"

"Oh my God!" Justin said, and I nodded, blushing. "What did you do?"

"I didn't know what to do!" I said, leaning back. "Actually, I thought it was a joke. I was really pissed, and I grabbed my book, and left. I was sure that he was fucking with me. I mean, he was an athlete, and he was hot. There were girls talking to him all the time, and he was always out at parties and stuff, and I didn't think guys like that could even be gay, not outside of cheesy online stories. I was sure that it was some kind of mean trick, and I just didn't want any part of it."

"But what happened?" Justin asked, confused. He had his head cocked to the side again.

"He came to my door the next day with flowers," I answered. "And I closed it in his face, but the next day he came back with more flowers, and the day after that. I told him that I didn't know what kind of game he was playing, but that I wasn't going to let him make fun of me, and he promised me that wasn't why he was there. Finally, I agreed to meet him in the cafeteria for dinner, because he promised to show me he was serious, and we went down there, and got food, and I waited for the entire dinner for the punchline. I waited for the shoe to drop, and then he got up on his chair, and I knew that was it."

"What did he do?" Justin asked, waiting.

"He said hi to everyone, and they all said hi back," I said, remembering how nervous I had been, how everything inside of me had frozen in terror. "He knew everyone, and they were all just kind of waiting to see what he was doing, because he was always doing something like that. He was grinning, and he announced to the whole room that he was on a dinner date with me, that it was a real, romantic dinner date, and that I was nervous as hell, and he asked if they could do something to make me feel better. The whole room was quiet for a second, and then people started tapping their glasses like at a wedding, and before I could do anything else, he kissed me. Right there, in front of everyone, and that's when I knew he was serious."

"What happened after that?" Justin asked. He was completely caught up in the story, and I realized I was equally as caught up in telling it, or had been for a second. I knew where this story was going, though, and I felt icy numbness settling over me.

"We started going out," I said, shrugging. "He liked me, and I was just in awe of him. He was so perfect, and I couldn't figure out what he was doing with me. He told me, though, that I was a challenge for him. Everything else was easy for him, everything he ever tried, but he had to work with me, and he said it was worth it. We moved in together our sophomore year, sharing a room, and we stayed together. We got the idea for 'Beans and Books', and it was a dream that grew up between both of us. It combined the things we both loved, and we worked damn hard to get it. Matt wasn't out to his family yet, but he told them when we were sophomores, and eventually they came around. I think they thought it was a phase, but after a while they figured out that I was kind of permanent. They actually cosigned on our business loan, and that meant so much to both of us, to know that they loved us, and that they accepted us."

I was quiet for a minute, and felt my eyes stinging a little. Justin folded a hand over mine, startling me.

"Chris, are you ok?" he asked quietly.

"He died, Justin," I said bluntly. "You don't have to ask what else happened. Matt died."

"I'm sorry," he said, his face twisting in sympathy. I stood abruptly.

"Can we get out of here?" I asked, dabbing quickly at my eyes. I dropped some money on the table, and Justin dropped more on top of it, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Let's go," he said, squeezing once. "I'll take you home."

I nodded goodbye to Lynn, and we left the restaurant.

To be continued.