Tackling the Subject Read online

  Gordy’s face twisted into a horrifying mixture of pain at too many levels to count. He wiped his sleeve across his eyes as he stared at Sam with his mouth hanging open. Sam jumped out of the pickup and ran to the dorm. What he had done to Gordy horrified Sam. It was like watching the world’s most venomous homophobe tear his boyfriend apart, only worse because he’d hit Gordy where it hurt the most.

  * * * *

  “You look like shit right now. You can talk about whatever your issue is. Just because I’m married doesn’t mean I’m clueless about new relationships.”

  Gordy glanced around his friend’s apartment to avoid looking into his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood for Nate’s home-grown wisdom. It didn’t matter if the homespun knowledge came from the depths of Houston. They were from such different backgrounds—the redneck from the sticks and a black kid from the inner city.

  But truth be told, neither of them were the stereotype everyone wanted to believe. Gordy had been the scared gay kid and Nate was Gordy’s defender and all-around best friend. He was also the only person on the team Gordy had told. His response when Gordy had let it slip was part of the reason they were such good friends. He’d said, ‘Cool. Hand me another beer,’ and the controversy never appeared.

  He’d also never outed Gordy. The one time Gordy had asked, he’d said, “It’s your story to tell, not mine.” Nate was the kind of best friend everyone wanted. He’d even been in Nate’s wedding—right beside Nate’s brother who was the best man.

  “Hey, man. What’s going on? And don’t bullshit me.”

  “Nathan Wayne, watch your mouth,” Sarah said from the kitchen.

  Gordy snickered when Nate stuck his tongue out at his wife—but only after he was sure he was out of her sight.

  “Brave man.”

  “I’m not stupid. Nobody wants their wife pissed off.” He studied Gordy for a moment and added. “Or husband. Do you want to tell me what’s wrong now?”

  Gordy slumped against the couch as the days of desolation came crashing back through him. His stomach twisted, and he lost any appetite he had. He tried to hide his feelings but the expression on his friend’s face said he’d failed in a big way.

  “Come on, Gordy. You’ve looked like a whipped puppy for the past couple of weeks. What’s going on? Sarah and I want to help.”

  As if conjured by her name, Sarah swept in with a platter in one delicate hand and a bowl in the other. She sat them on the small table in front of the two men just as the aroma reached Gordy’s nose. He loved Sarah’s spaghetti and meatballs, but today, like so many other times in the recent past, he had no appetite. He gave Sarah a pitiful look, hoping it would buy sympathy for him.

  Sarah shook her head of deep red ringlets and frowned at Gordy. “Try a little. Please. I made it because it’s your favorite.”

  “Plus, she knows whatever you leave, I’ll eat.”

  “You hush. I’m talking with Gordy.” She turned and focused. One thing he loved about Sarah was you always got her entire attention. This time it left Gordy squirming. Eventually, the overpowering silence compelled Gordy to speak.

  “Things just didn’t go like I’d hoped. That’s all.”

  “Bullshit!” Nate held up a hand to forestall his wife. “I needed the profanity.” He turned back to Gordy. “You haven’t looked happy since you got back from spring break. You mope around all day. Even the clueless coaches are noticing. You act like it’s all you can do to move. I’ve been around women on their period who aren’t as moody as you are.”

  He grinned at his wife, who flipped him off. Nate chuckled. “So ladylike. My.”

  Gordy grinned, too, at least a little. That’s why these two were his best friends. Sarah reached over and patted Gordy on the leg. “It’s okay to not want to do cartwheels across the library lawn. If you want to talk about it, we’re here for you.”

  Gordy sighed as he played with his food. “What he said hurt…a lot. I thought he’d call and apologize, but I’ve heard nothing—not a call, not a text, not one fucking thing.” He realized what he’d said and grimaced. Sarah lifted an eyebrow but nodded to him.

  “Do you want to talk about it? Either way is fine with us.” She glanced at Nate and got a nod.

  Gordy considered the offer for a minute and realized he wasn’t in a good place to talk about their breakup. “No, let’s talk about anything else.” He dropped his gaze to the floor and shook his head. “Every time I think about it, my gut gets all knotted up, and I want to go to bed and hide under the quilts.”

  Sarah waved her fork at both of them. “Okay, enough of the sad stuff. Gordy, you’ll eat, ’cause otherwise you’re never getting my spaghetti and meatballs again. You don’t want that to happen.” She turned to her husband. “And you, my hot man? You get out the cards and we’ll play for a little while once we finished eating. That should help everyone relax.”

  The two men chuckled, knowing they were defeated. Gordy enjoyed the greatest sense of normalcy he’d experienced since he’d left Colorado.

  * * * *

  Sam had closed his curtains, so even though it was middle of the afternoon, his room was dark. Rachel sat at the end of his bed and watched him. The sound of her soft breath filled the space until it seemed to roar in Sam’s ears. The past few weeks had been among the worst of his life, and it was his own fault.

  “Come on, Sammy. You can’t just lie around and mope. Get out of bed, eat and go to class.” Rachel wrinkled her nose. “And shower. Actually, shower needs to be at the top of the list.”

  Sam muttered. “Leave me alone so I can sleep.” He yanked up the covers and glared at Rachel. “And I don’t stink.”

  “Oh, sweetie, you reek. You’re badly in need of time with hot water and soap.”

  Sam grabbed the edges of his blanket and pulled them around him. As he thought about what he’d done to his life, the gloom of depression threatened to swallow him again. The tears he’d thought he’d exhausted came. He scrubbed his face against the bedding and ignored whatever Rachel had been saying. He rolled himself deeper into the darkness. “Just leave me alone. I’ve fucked up everything.”

  “Come on. It’s not that bad. You love the big lug, don’t you? Didn’t he tell you he loved you?”

  “It’s not that easy. I fucked everything up fifty ways from Sunday. Even if we were together, I’m too screwed up for someone like Gordy.”

  “Have you tried calling him? It might not be as bad as you think. What if he’s waiting for you to apologize? Every couple has problems. You need to give him a chance.”

  “Not this time. I said horrible, shitty things to him—unforgivable things that should never have been said.”

  “Well, you know what they say. No one knows your soft spots like someone you love.”

  “I’m not hungry, Rach. I’m just tired. Let me sleep. I’ll be better after some rest.”

  “No. You said the same thing yesterday…and the day before that…and last week. You will wash that funky smell off, and we’re getting something in your stomach besides Pop-Tarts.”

  Sam brought the blanket tighter around him and ignored his friend. The room became quiet, and he’d hoped Rachel had given up. But instead, the door closed and Rachel was standing on his bed, ripping blankets away.

  “Hey! Stop it!” he screeched.

  “Get up. You’ve been doing the gloom and doom thing long enough. I swear if you don’t shower, I’ll drag you in there myself.”

  He grabbed at the blankets, but Rachel had already pulled most of them to the floor. A few seconds later all he had left were his briefs and a pillow he wedged in front of his crotch. He glared at Rachel and started to argue when she cut him off.

  “Shower. I’ll wait in the common room, but if the shower isn’t running in a few minutes, I’m coming back in.”

  His dark mood wasn’t changing, but he didn’t care enough to battle with Rachel. Once she left the room, he collapsed back onto the bed, unwilling to get up and into the shower. He lay to
o long and there was pounding at the door.

  “Get up! I want water running.”

  Only his concern that Rachel would carry out her threats had him moving. In a daze, he got his feet on the floor and stripped off his underwear as he stumbled into the bathroom. Sam adjusted the water until it was as hot as he could tolerate. He stepped under the pounding cascade and went through the motions of showering. He managed to soap up and wash his hair, but he didn’t care enough to shave, which he normally did in the shower. So, his dark red scruff stayed in place.

  He stood with the water streaming over him and his head wedged against the tiles. None of the sensations registered. He was numb and beyond caring. After a few minutes of silent immobility, he turned off the water and toweled himself dry. He wrapped the terrycloth around his waist and made his way back into his room to find Rachel had struck again. She’d laid a change of clothes over a bed that had clean sheets.

  Sam shook his head and struggled into the outfit. He zipped up the shorts and slipped his feet into the first pair of flip-flops he found. He took a few halting steps and opened the door to the suite’s common room.

  Rachel smiled and nodded. “Much better. The beard looks a little mountain man, but I’ll take it. Let’s get something to eat. I’m starved and I’m sure you are, too.”

  Sam gave his friend a smile he didn’t feel. “Sure, let’s get going. I’ve got all kinds of studying to catch up on.”

  Rachel grabbed his arm and pulled him to the door. “Okay, we need to eat and not screw around. You’re going with me to the rugby game. Laura is playing, and I promised to watch. That means you’re making an appearance, too.”

  She was desperate to help, but nothing had changed. He stood on the edge of a dark place and didn’t care which direction he took. The only thing he understood was he’d reached the limit of his endurance.

  * * * *

  Gordy’s phone rang as he sat reading through the most recent assignment in the creative writing class he’d taken on a lark, although it did fill an elective. Gordy would not take classes that didn’t count in his degree somewhere. He glanced at the phone’s screen. I don’t recognize the number. If it’s that important, they can leave a message. Gordy turned back to struggle through another textbook page. He refused to let his personal life destroy his goals. He would be the first college graduate in his family. He would accomplish his goals. At some point, he’d be able to be who he needed to be, but it wasn’t now.

  His phone buzzed. They’d left a message. Great. One more thing to deal with. He clicked the playback and was shocked to hear Sam’s mother.

  “Hi, Gordy. This is Carolyn, Sam’s mother. I’m sorry to bother you, but we were hoping you’d seen Sam. He hasn’t called in several weeks, and his phone just rolls to voice mail. Sam told us you aren’t together any more, and we hate to bother you, but we’re worried about Sam. He… Well, he hasn’t seemed himself lately. I understand this is awkward, but if you see him, please ask him to call us.”

  “Like hell,” he muttered at the phone. He turned it off and tossed it onto the bench seat in his trailer. He went back to his books, trying to focus, but his mind kept going back to Sam. That wasn’t like him, but why should he care? Sam had made it very clear he didn’t want to be around Gordy any more. I don’t owe him a damn thing. All he left me with was a lot of heartache.

  Gordy tried to concentrate, but after a few minutes, he realized he couldn’t remember anything he’d just read. He slammed the dry tome shut and glared at the world. He shoved his sock-covered feet into his boots then stomped them until the floor was reverberating each time his foot struck. Gordy repeated the performance on the other foot and glanced at his clothes. It didn’t matter. He looked good enough to find an ex-boyfriend who hadn’t regretted ripping his heart out and grinding it into chili meat.

  Without a backward glance, he was out the door and roaring down the road in his pickup. He’d already decided he would find Sam sleeping off some Thursday night bar crawl. If that was the drama Sam had shared with everyone else, then he didn’t deserve parents who cared whether he was dead or alive. He had a pang of envy for Sam’s relationship with his family. If Gordy shared his personal life with his own family? Well, he wouldn’t need to worry about getting home to visit on the holidays.

  His anger building, Gordy fishtailed a little as he ripped through the parking lot for Sam’s dorm. He wheeled into the first empty spot and stalked into the building. His expression must have been frightful because people dodged from his path as he stomped to door to Sam’s suite. His cheeks flushed hot as he tried to think what he’d say to Sam after almost a month of silence.

  He reached the nondescript entrance and hammered on it with his fist. The hollow door rattled in its frame with some of the lamination coming loose. A few seconds passed before Gordy was pounding again. The flimsy wood shook even worse until it seemed likely to fall off.

  “Good God. Hold on to your panties.”

  It wasn’t Sam, but at least one of his suitemates was sober enough to answer. By the time the few seconds passed that it took for the guy to get to the entry, Gordy’s temper flared.

  A slit appeared, and Gordy rammed his big body into it. The flimsy security chain broke into three pieces with the middle shooting across the room. The guy who’d opened it stood stunned on the other side as Gordy covered the few feet to bang on Sam’s door.

  Gordy clenched his jaw as he hammered his fist against the flimsy construction, rattling it. After a second or two with Sam not answering, he drew back to bang on the door again.

  “It won’t take much for you to knock the door down, but he isn’t in there.”

  Gordy spun to face the guy. “Where is he? His parents called me to see if he was okay.”

  “Yeah, they called me, too. I have no idea where he is. I haven’t seen him all week. He gets in weird funks and we never see him. He’ll show up in a day or two.”

  The total apathy displayed by Sam’s roommate left Gordy with a chink in his armor of righteous indignation. “When’s the last time you saw him?” Gordy asked as his anger found a new focus. After a moment of contemplation, Gordy got his answer.

  “Last weekend, I guess. He was coming in as I was going out to meet friends at the bar.” The guy stopped and twisted his lips. “He didn’t look good. I told him he looked like shit, but he said he was okay.”

  Gordy grabbed the doorframe and pulled until it creaked. He took a deep breath as another crack formed in his fury. “Any idea where he might be?”

  “His friend’s down on the second floor. Rachel might know. Room two-o-two—or something like that.”

  Gordy rushed out the door before he did something he’d regret. He flew down the stairs as if he were escaping a fire. By the time he reached the second floor, he was breathing harder. Pausing at the landing for a minute, Gordy waited until his breath returned to normal and his temper was under control enough so he didn’t want to tear the door down. He stalked through the hall, scanning each room number until he came to the one he was searching for. Gordy tried to calm his warring emotions. He wasn’t sure whether he was more worried about Sam or pissed that he was dragged into more drama with the man who had almost destroyed him.

  He rapped his knuckles against the door, managing to not rattle the whole thing. He stood and counted the seconds before he knocked again, but it opened first.

  “Rachel?”

  “No, hang on.”

  The blonde who’d answered disappeared, leaving Gordy standing in the doorway. He heard voices that were too low for him to understand. But then she reappeared.

  “She’s coming.”

  Before the girl walked away, Gordy heard a crisp order from somewhere inside the apartment. “For God’s sake, don’t leave him standing in the hallway.”

  The blonde glared at someone out of Gordy’s line of sight. “He’s not my friend. You let him in.”

  The door flew open. The woman locked him in a steady gaze as she gathere
d her head of curls and captured it in a thick hair tie. She dropped her hands to her hips.

  “You’re Gordy.”

  There was no note of question in her voice, only a statement. The anger welled up inside him. “You must be Rachel.”

  She rubbed her fingers across her forehead and seemed to take a moment to collect her thoughts. “Sorry. You don’t deserve my crappy attitude, but Sam hasn’t been doing very well and seeing you at the door brought back everything that’s keeping me up at night.”

  “His parents haven’t talked to him in a few weeks. When they’ve called, he doesn’t call them back.”

  “Shit, that’s not good.”

  “They called me, so they must be worried.”

  She rubbed her hands over her face and sighed. A moment later she seemed to decide. “I can’t remember when I talked to him last. I’ve tried to pull him out of the funk he’s in, but nothing seems to matter.” Guilt spread across her face. “I had tests today and haven’t checked on him for a few days.”

  She ran to her room and grabbed a jacket. “I’ll go with you. I bet we can find him if we work together.” They took off down the hallway to begin their search.

  * * * *

  Gordy let the pickup roll to a stop in front of the building. His mood had changed. He was just worried about Sam at this point, regardless of their history. When he glanced at Rachel in the passenger seat, she seemed as worried as he felt.

  “We looked everywhere. All of his friends. Any place he went to. Anyone. I…” Rachel lifted her hands and let them drop in a gesture of futility. There was a long silence then she continued. “You don’t think he would have…?”