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.

The evening had cooled off a little while we were in the restaurant. It was getting more toward fall now, being the end of September, but we'd be fine in what we were wearing, without jackets. There was a little bit of a breeze, but the night was clear. There were too many lights in the city to see any but the brightest stars, since the rest of the sky was kind of washed out, and that's how I felt, too. Washed out. Any time that I talked about Matthew with anyone I felt like this, cold inside, and hollowed out. Lynn called a goodbye as we left, and I nodded, stepping out onto the sidewalk and filling my lungs with air. It felt too tight inside the pub, too small, and I wished I hadn't started thinking about any of this.

"Chris?" Justin asked, following me. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," I answered quickly, hands jammed in my pockets. "I'm fine," was my perpetual defense against the world, and flew out of my mouth immediately whenever I was upset. Matthew had always been able to see past it, and would always push a little until he got behind it, but Justin didn't know me that well.

"You sure?" he asked, and I nodded. "OK. I'm sorry that I, you know, if you're upset. I guess I'm just sorry for the whole thing, you know, to lose someone you care about. Can I do anything?"

"No, it's ok, Justin," I said quickly. "It's fine. I guess I'm just a little tired."

I started to walk back toward the store, and Justin fell in beside me, looking like he wanted to help but wasn't sure how. I smiled at him, to show him I was fine, and wondered again what he was doing here. Why had he come to Boston? I knew that their tour had ended at the beginning of September, and then there had been the middle, which had been a horrible time for us all, but things were finally starting to calm down again, and we were all starting to feel a little more normal. I hadn't been back on a plane yet, but figured I would be soon enough. I'd noticed earlier that Justin wasn't flying commercial, but that wasn't a luxury that all of us could afford.

"I'm kind of tired, too," he agreed. "It's been a really long day."

"Yeah, it has," I agreed. It felt like I'd been awake for years. "Did you end up getting a hotel?"

"After you ditched me at the airport?" he asked, smirking.

"Hey, I said I was sorry," I said, shrugging, but I smiled, too.

"I got a suite in one of the ones over by the water," Justin said, pointing. "You know, over where the cruise ships are? It's kind of nice, but all I did was sit around and watch TV all day."

"Anything good on?" I asked, feeling bad about that. Justin grinned.

"Not really," he answered, shaking his head. We were in front of the store now, the lights off inside, the doors all locked up, and I reached in my pocket for my keys.

"Hey Justin," I began, turning to him. "Do you need a ride back to your hotel?"

"I thought I'd catch a taxi," he answered, watching one drive by. They passed fairly regularly, so I knew he'd be able to snag one. "Thanks for dinner, and, you know, everything else."

"No problem," I answered. "Thanks for listening to my tired boring stories."

"They weren't boring," he said, the streetlight catching in his buzzed hair. It made his head seem to glow a little, and I turned away, reaching for the door. In the reflected glass, I saw him raise his hand for a taxi. "Good night, Chris."

"Good night," I said, opening the door. I stopped and looked back as he opened the taxi door. "You know, Justin, if there's nothing on TV tomorrow, and you want to swing by the store, I could take you around the city, or something. If you wanted to."

"I think I'd like that," he said, grinning. I gave him a little wave, and he climbed into the taxi.

There was a back door in the building that opened onto the stairs to my loft and connected to the storeroom, but sometimes I liked to walk through the store before I went upstairs, just to check on things, or think about things. I had snickered before about the poet lady wanting to feel the vibes in there, but sometimes it was something I did, too, when I was down, or when I wanted to clear my head a little. Sometimes when I walked through the store at night, in the dark, with only the lights from street filtering in through the windows, I could imagine Matthew walking around in here, the way we had together when we opened the store. The two of us had done it together, hiring the staff, meeting with the contractor who did the work on the inside, and the store was like our child. Everything in it had been picked by both of us, and I had only changed minor things since then. Every time I remodeled something, adding new shelves or changing the furniture, I tried to imagine what Matthew would have said about it, and if he would agree.

I tried to imagine what he would think now, about my new friendship with Justin. It was probably a little early to call Justin a friend, but we were friendly. He was nice, and not as spoiled and prima donna as I had thought. I mentally chastised myself, admitting that at least half of the attitude I thought I'd perceived had been projected from me. I expected him to behave a certain way, so I read all of his behavior in that context, catching only the things that agreed with what I wanted to see like a camera with a filter on the lens. I thought of him as a good kid, and mentally corrected myself. He wasn't a kid. He was only twenty, but it was a mature twenty. He had it a lot more together than most of the guys his own age, and than a lot of the guys my age. April liked him, and I had to agree that I thought Matthew would have, as well.

The store, as always, was spotless. Everything was put away in its place, the floors swept, the rugs vacuumed. The dishes and glassware gleamed behind the counter, waiting for the morning, when Michelle would come in and take over her spot again. The chairs were all put up on the tables, waiting for me to come in the morning and take them down, and the register waited for the first customer of the day. The shelves were neat, the garbage taken to the dumpster out back, and on my way through the storeroom I glanced at the schedule, which the staff more or less did themselves. In the morning Michelle would be in with me for an hour, and then Meg would be in as well, which meant the store would be in good hands if I did go somewhere with Justin. Michelle was off after lunch, and Meg and Pete would have the store for the afternoon before Pete and Julie locked up tomorrow night. Our staff pattern was two people on, supplemented by me, but we really did need an extra person. We could afford it, so I really just needed to find someone who would fit.

I climbed the stairs, feeling the same little pang I always did when I climbed them alone. Some days the entire day went by without me feeling like this. I knew that Matthew was gone, but some days it was safe to think about that. Other days, especially days when I thought about him, or talked about him, I felt the immediacy of his loss again. When I walked into the loft I felt it even more. Matthew had never seen the loft the way it was now. After he died, I thought about selling the store, but I couldn't. We had worked too hard, and it meant too much to both of us, but I couldn't keep the apartment the way it was. It was too easy to imagine him sitting on the couch, or walking around the kitchen. As I'd told Justin, the store was mine, free and clear, because I had used some of Matt's insurance money to pay off the mortgage and the loans. I used the rest to change everything up here, to create a space that belonged only to me. I understood how April could just not discuss her brother, because I had, essentially, erased him from the place where we had lived. I worried sometimes that it was wrong, that doing so was a selfish thing, but no one else seemed to think so, and it was the least painful thing I could think of to do.

Matthew and I had always treated the loft as an afterthought, because all of our money went into the store, and getting it off the ground. There had been a small kitchen area up here, an old stove, refrigerator, and sink against one wall, and we had just put our yard sale table near enough to use as counter space and dining area. We had a bed, and pushed it into the corner that we designated as the bedroom. Another corner was the living room, while the bathroom had been the only part of the loft to actually have separate walls. Our furniture was all hand me down or the cheapest that we could find, but the two of us had been ok with all of it, because we had each other, and we had the store. The loft was spacious, and I had preserved that, but I had also broken it up a little bit. There was a wall around the bedroom area corner now, although it was mostly made of glass, and I had an L-shaped counter coming out of the kitchen. I could sit at the dining room table if I wanted to, or I could sit on one of the stools at the end of the counter, as I usually did when I was alone. If there were guests over, I closed the bedroom curtains, but when it was just me, I didn't bother.

I got ready for bed, brushing my teeth, dropping my clothes in the hamper, and picked up my book off of the coffee table. Crossing the loft, I hit the lights, and turned on the lamp next to my bed, settling onto the sheets and setting the alarm clock. It was a little early, but like I'd told Justin, I was tired, and it had been a really long day. I looked over at the nightstand, where there was a picture of Matthew and I on one of the spring break vacations we'd taken in college. Oddly enough, in light of the conversation I'd had with Justin earlier, it was from the London trip, and the two of us were posed, typically obnoxious American kids, next to one of those palace guards with the tall hats who weren't allowed to smile. I loved Matt, still, and I missed him. I felt something hurt inside of me when I looked at the picture, and later, when I went to sleep, it was the last thing I saw before I flicked off the light.

In the morning I was awake and downstairs bright and early, my sleep rough and restless. I woke up with the sheets all wrapped around me, but couldn't remember any of my dreams. When I went downstairs, after showering and dressing, I took the chairs down off of the tables, and brought the bakery deliveries in, setting the boxes on the counter. I was about to turn on the coffee machines when Michelle walked in.

"Good morning," she said, smiling. I marveled that one person could have so much black in their wardrobe yet still manage to look different every day. "What are you doing in my area?"

"I was bringing in the bakery boxes," I said, smiling. "I wouldn't dream of touching your sacred coffee pots, even though, you know, they're actually mine."

"Part of being on a team is making sure that everyone works where their skills are most needed," Michelle said, setting her bag and jacket down in the storeroom. "My skills are most suited toward the cafe."

"Sounds like somebody's management night class is going well," I said, grinning. "I'm going to get the papers onto the rack."

"Go nuts," Michelle said, flipping switches. The store was immediately filled with the smell of brewing coffee, and I craved the first cup. "You want anything special today?"

"What are we brewing?" I asked, stacking the bundles on a dolly in the storeroom. I wheeled them in and began to stack them on the rack, which was emptied nightly as part of closing up. "Anything good?"

"The raspberry truffle isn't bad, and I'm using up the last of the chocolate macadamia," she answered. I shrugged, and she smiled. "Why don't I just surprise you? I'll let you know when it's ready. So, Chris?"

"Yeah?" I asked, not looking up.

"You seemed to be getting along with your new friend on your way to dinner last night," she said, moving pastries into the case. "Will we be seeing more of Mr. Timberlake around here today?"

"You don't have to ask it in that tone," I snapped, pushing the dolly back behind the counter and into the storeroom. "He might stop by today, and if he does then I'm going to take him out and show him a little of the city."

Michelle stared at me without saying anything, her expression unreadable. It seemed almost mirthful, but mixed with skepticism.

"I promised April that I would keep him entertained until she got back," I added. Michelle nodded innocently. "He's not as bad as we thought."

"We," Michelle began, emphasizing it, "didn't think anything. We just listened to what you said about him, and agreed. We aren't the ones who got in a loud, bickering argument with him in a public airport and right here in our office."

"Point taken," I said, unlocking the front doors. We were now open for business, although it would probably be twenty minutes or so before the first customer came in. There was a small group of regulars who came in every morning for coffee to go, and there was a second crowd, older people mostly, who came in and sat, reading the papers, relaxing, and occasionally starting a game of chess. "Just out of curiosity, what did you think of him?"

"He was polite," she said, thinking it over. "He was really nice to Julie's dirty hippie lady."

"Promise me we're not inviting her back," I said, shuddering. The poetry really had been that bad. "That's all you thought?"

"Well, if he wasn't, you know, so American Top 40, he would have been kind of cute," she said. I must have looked surprised, because she blushed a little. "If all men weren't total jerks and not at all worth dating."

"Right," I said, pulling a newspaper off of the rack as she pushed a cup of coffee over to me.

She thought Justin was cute? I guess he was, in that charming southern boy kind of way, when he wasn't trying so hard to be hip hop. A couple of times last night he had slipped a few odd words in, but basically he sounded like a regular guy, even if he looked a little better than the regular guys that wandered in most of the time. Wait, I didn't care if he was cute, anyway. I wasn't interested in him, and even if I was, he was probably straight. More importantly, he was only in town for a few days or so, although we hadn't really talked about how long he was staying. Most importantly, he was April's friend, and it was just wrong to date your sister in law's friends, and when had dating started slipping into my thoughts, anyway? And why hadn't April called back yet, damn it?

Our morning went as regularly as all the other mornings. The customers came and went, taking coffee, staying for a muffin or a bagel. I helped some people find a few things, did some special orders, and watched Michelle bus a couple of the tables and do the dishes. When Meg came in, her look today sternly librarian with a blouse buttoned up to her neck and her hair pulled up in a bun, she asked if she could work the register, so that she could read some homework, and I said that was fine. While she did that, I circulated, straightening things, checking the shelves, and helping customers. The store was pretty good sized, since the building was a warehouse at some point in its history, so there was always someone to help or something to put back. I was up on the second floor helping someone find something in the children's section, when the bell above the door jingled, and I heard Justin ask for me.

"Is Chris available, please?" he asked quietly. I couldn't see the register from that far back on the second floor, but I could hear them in the quiet. Like Michelle had said last night, a bookstore was kind of like a library, even with the Spanish guitar, the current background selection, playing softly.

"I believe he's upstairs," Meg said evenly, her voice betraying none of the nervous tremor it had yesterday when she talked to him. I guess the novelty of chatting with a celebrity could wear off pretty quickly.

"Thanks," Justin said, and I heard his shoes tapping softly up the stairs. At the same time I heard the slightly louder clacking of Meg's high heels clicking across the tile in the cafe section, and I knew she was running over to dish with Michelle. I smiled, not really minding. The five of us had been in a bit of a rut lately, so Justin coming by to hang out with me was more or less the hottest news we had. "Chris?"

"Just a moment, sir," I called, smiling at the nice grandmotherly lady I was helping. "I'm in the children's section. Can I help you find anything else, ma'am?"

"No, thank you," she answered, holding up a small stack of books. "I think I'm all set."

"If you take them right back downstairs, one of the young ladies down there will be happy to ring you out," I said, turning to point toward the steps. I almost put my finger in Justin's eye, and he jerked back a step, giggling. "Sorry!"

"It's ok," he said, smiling. The little old lady shuffled off toward the steps as I smiled back at him. He was wearing jeans and a short sleeved polo shirt, with a baseball cap pulled low overhanging his face. I hadn't noticed before how hairy his forearms were, but the light from one of the windows seemed to catch it just right. "Hi."

"Hi," I said, both of us grinning like idiots. "I didn't know if you'd come by. I mean, I was kind of a downer last night."

"No you weren't," he said dismissively, glancing away at some other customer passing us. "You did say, though, that maybe we could do something today. Can you get away?"

"Yeah," I answered. "We're not really busy. You still want to do something?"

"Of course I do," he answered. "I told you last night that I had a good time, and I think I'd like to get to know you better."

"I'd like to get to know you better, too," I said, walking toward the stairs. "I mean, we talked a lot about me, and hardly anything about you. Let me just check in with these guys, and then we can get out of here for a while."

"Cool," he said, following.

I let Meg and Michelle know I was leaving for a while and that I would have my phone with me if they needed anything. They both gave me these weird looks, and I knew they'd been talking about me, or Justin, or both just before we came down the stairs, but I just shook my head at them. I couldn't yell at them for basic human nature. I introduced them to Justin before we left, and he politely shook both their hands, but I could also sense that there was something a little cool in their greetings. They smiled and nodded and everything else, but there was a little bit of a reserve there that I didn't usually see in them. I wondered about it, but as I led Justin out onto the sidewalk, watching him slip on a pair of sunglasses, I decided to just let it go.

"Have you been to Boston before?" I asked, as we stood out on the sidewalk. Inside, I could see Meg at the register, watching intently.

"Only for concerts," he answered. "I've been to a couple clubs, on our off nights, but I haven't really been around the city or anything."

I thought for a second about things we could do, and figured something quiet where there were a lot of tourists would probably be good. We could have a little fun, and in a setting like that he was more likely to blend in with the crowd.

"Come on," I said, grabbing his arm. "We'll take the T over to the water, and I'll take you to the aquarium."

"OK," he said, smiling.

Justin took off his sunglasses to ride on the subway, but I figured he kind of had to. The T is pretty clean, but it's not what I'd call brightly lit, and Justin would have walked into a wall or fallen onto the tracks otherwise. He seemed a little nervous, just the same, but most people didn't give either of us a second glance, and since it was the middle of the day there were few children around, because they were all in school. I figured kids would be more likely to recognize him than adults, since they were most of his demographic, but he seemed fidgety just the same. I tapped him on the arm, not wanting to say his name.

"Hey, are you ok?" I asked. "You're kind of quiet. If you don't want to take the T, we can cab it around town instead."

"No, no, I'm ok," he said. "I was just thinking about some stuff. I don't mind being out here, but it's been a really long time since I went anywhere without a bodyguard."

"Why don't you have one?" I asked. "I mean, especially now, with people so worried about safety and stuff."

"Our management says I'm always supposed to take one, but I'm kind of laying low this trip," Justin said, still looking a little uncomfortable. "Dragging somebody around with me isn't exactly laying low."

"Good point," I said. "This is our stop."

We spent about an hour in the aquarium, which is more or less all the time you really can spend there, even if you read all the plaques. I liked to go and stick my hand in the starfish tanks, where someone supervised to make sure that you didn't pull them out of the water, since that was bad for them, and Justin said it was cool, too, but he didn't seem excessively enthused. I wondered if maybe I had chosen the wrong sort of activity, as this was kind of almost like being in school, but he insisted he was enjoying himself, and was just thinking. Each time he said that, he immediately moved the discussion to something else before I could ask what he was thinking about, a trick I caught immediately. I still didn't want to push, though, so I let it go. After we'd seen everything, I had to take a bathroom break, and when I came out he was staring into the penguin pool again.

"They're so cute," I said, watching them sit on their rocks. Penguins are adorable when they're swimming, because they look so awkward, but they're so fast. We'd already looked in here on the way in, but I was trying to show Justin a good time, so I didn't want to drag him away if he wasn't ready to go.

"They are," Justin said, staring down. "The sign says they use those little bands on their wings for identification. If they have matching ones, that means they're a mating pair. Do you think they're happy?"

"I guess so," I answered, baffled. Did I think the penguins were happy? What kind of a question was that? "I've never really thought about it, but, you know, they're safe in here, and they feed them really well. They're probably happy, although it is still a prison."

"Maybe," he said, watching them. He sounded really sad, and I wondered again what was wrong. "Maybe they're happy because they have someone. What about that little penguin down there by himself? Do you think he's happy? That one down there all alone?"

"Justin?" I asked. He didn't answer me. He just kept looking into the penguin pool. I decided to keep to the discussion at hand, to see if I could figure out where it was going. "Maybe he's happy being single. I don't know."

"But the other ones are in pairs," Justin said. "The other ones all have somebody, and he doesn't. Chris, do you think, well, do you think there's somebody for everybody? The sign says that they mate for life. Do you think that's true, that there's one person and you only get one chance?"

I sighed, following his eyes back into the tank. His face looked sad, his mouth turned down a little, and I figured that he was having that problem a lot of guys his age had. It sounded to me like girl trouble. I'd been through this a bunch of times with April, as the average length of her relationships was a month or two, so I felt pretty secure talking it through with him, or just listening, if that's what he wanted. At the same time, though, there was his question, just hanging there, waiting for an answer.

"I don't know, Justin," I answered finally. He looked at me carefully, his head cocked to the side again. "I can't really answer that, Justin. I love Matt. I don't put it in the past tense because I still think about him every day. At the same time, though, he's gone. I'm alone now, even if I still care about him, and I have been for almost two years. Maybe I haven't thought about seeing anyone else, or about maybe falling in love with somebody else, but someday I might. If there's only one person for everybody, then I guess I'm done, because I've already lost mine. I guess I can't answer that, because I'm torn either way."

Justin put a hand on my arm, looking suddenly stricken.

"Chris, I'm sorry," he said, his face twisting even more. "I didn't think about that. I shouldn't have asked you something like that."

"It's ok," I said, patting the hand on my arm. I gave it a quick squeeze.

"No, it's not," he said, shaking his head. "I was thinking about me, not about you. I shouldn't have asked that."

"Justin, I told you, it's ok," I said, shrugging off his hand and his concern. I didn't need to be coddled or treated with kid gloves. "Can I ask a question?"

"Of course," he answered, which surprised me. "Of course" wasn't really something you said to someone you just met yesterday, as it implied a closeness that I wasn't sure we had.

"Is this about you and Britney?" I asked. "I mean, it's kind of obvious that you're down, and the question you just asked me, you know. April said that you're having some problems, and you said the same thing yesterday. Is something wrong with you and Britney?"

I was completely surprised when he shook his head, laughing loudly. I'd heard him chuckle yesterday and today, and there had been that fit of giggling in my office, but this was the first time I'd actually heard him laugh. He was completely without restraint, the sound echoing through the large area because of his well trained singer's lungs, and I worried that people were going to stare at him. He must have caught my face, because I was both worried and stunned, and he stopped laughing at his inside joke that he wasn't sharing.

"I'm sorry," he said, still grinning. "I'm just, wow, me and Britney? No, that's not the problem, not at all. Are we all done here?"

"If you want to be," I said, catching the redirect again. Obviously Justin wasn't going to talk until he felt ready. I figured I'd just give up on trying, and leave it for April to deal with when she got back. Maybe by then she'd be returning phone calls. "I was just trying to entertain you."

"And you're doing a great job," he said, smiling. "Thanks for being an excellent tourguide."

"I prefer activities director," I said, leading him through the gift shop and out of the aquarium. It was pretty warm outside, and he squinted in the sun as both of us pulled out our sunglasses. "So, what do you want to do now?"

"What are my options?" Justin asked, looking around.

"Well, if we go up there by the street, there's a trolley tour we could pick up," I said. "It goes all over the city, past the historical sites and the Big Dig and stuff, and you can get off and get back on wherever you want if there's anyplace specific that we want to see. That takes about an hour, but it's pretty interesting. If we walk up the street that way, there's a Holocaust memorial that we can look at. It's short, but it's also kind of interesting, although it might be a little bit of a downer, and you and I aren't exactly screaming with laughter at the moment. What? Why are you making that face?"

"Nothing," Justin said, looking up at me and shrugging at the same time. He was clearly lying.

"Justin," I said firmly.

"OK, you got me," he said, shrugging again. "I'm sure those things are great and all, but, you know, are you anti-fun or something? The aquarium was kind of cool, but museums? Historical tours? Is this what you do for fun? Not that there's anything wrong with that."

He added the last part as a quick afterthought, since I was staring at him.

"Really, Justin?" I asked, waiting to see how he'd dig his way out of this one. He opted for honesty.

"OK, there's something a little wrong with it," he began. "But only for me. It's not really my scene. If you like to do it, that's great, but isn't there anything else we could do?"

I had promised to keep him company, so I could be a little accommodating, and there were other things I liked to do, too. I wasn't some old geezer who just liked to hang out in museums.

"There's an IMAX theater right there if you want to see a movie," I said, pointing. "Or, if we go over that way, we could hit Quincy Market. It's like five minutes walk, but there's a Gap and an Abercrombie, and a lot of little cool stores, too."

Justin nodded, but had that look on his face again, like he was thinking of something else.

"You hungry?" I asked, realizing it was lunchtime. "We could go get some food."

"Could we do that?" he asked, and I nodded. "There's something I want to talk to you about, if that's ok."

To be continued.