20. Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

Gary

A t two o’clock in the afternoon, Gary biked to the mall. He’d had a busy morning hosting his show and then biking around town selling advertisements. And every minute that he’d been away from Jeff, all he’d been able to think about was seeing Jeff again.

When Gary arrived, he took a seat in the food court. Over the last few months, he’d learned that Jeff came by the food court often, typically to pay random visits to Brandon in between his times cleaning the restrooms and emptying trash cans. Hopefully, Gary would catch him soon.

While Gary was waiting for Jeff to make an appearance, he noticed Brandon behind the pretzel stand and waved. Brandon motioned for him to come over.

Gary stood back up and headed toward the pretzel stand. “Hey, Brandon,” he said as he approached. “Think Jeff will be by soon?”

“Nah, he couldn’t come in today,” Brandon said. “He called me this morning. Told me to tell you. I think he said he left a message on your machine, but he still wanted me to know too in case you were too busy to check.”

“Oh.” Gary sighed, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “Yeah, I haven’t been home since ten. Did Jeff say why he wasn’t coming in?”

“No, sorry. Probably because of Don, though.”

Gary tilted his head. Did Jeff tell Brandon that Don had called ?

“What makes you say that?”

“Don fucking pestered him yesterday, I think, but I can’t be sure. Last night, I saw Don over at O’Henry’s, and he was all ‘Didn’t expect to see you here, Brandon, especially since Jeff turned his nose up at my invitation.’ Guess that must mean that Don talked to him or something. Fucking Don. God, I hate that piece of shit.”

Gary rubbed his forehead. “Yeah, me too.”

Darn, Jeff had seemed fine earlier in the morning. Or... mostly fine? Geez. Maybe he wasn’t fine. Gary had half a mind to follow through with punching Don in the nose.

“I better bike to his house and check on him,” Gary said. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“No problem.” Brandon handed Gary a pretzel. “On the house. Tell Jeff I said that Don’s a shithead. I mean, he knows that, but still.”

Gary smiled a little. “Yeah, I’ll tell him.”

After scarfing down the pretzel on his way out of the mall, Gary hopped on his bike and rushed over to Jeff’s. Sweat formed on his brow as he pedaled through the city, the sun relentless in the late spring sky. All of this running around was really helping him burn through the mountain-sized amount of caffeine he’d had this morning. But worry was fueling him too. Hopefully Jeff was okay. While Gary liked keeping busy when he was upset himself, he knew what it was like to be too upset to work. Heck, he had nearly been too flustered by the business with his family to even host his show last night. He couldn’t really blame Jeff for being too upset to clean toilets right now. Still, he wished Jeff would have come back over to be with him, rather than staying home by himself.

Gary’s stomach sank when he pulled up to Jeff’s house. Jeff’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Maybe he wasn’t home? After parking his bike, Gary ran up the steps to knock, but no one answered. Worry twisted inside of him. God, what if something had happened to Jeff?

Holding onto the tiny hope that maybe Jeff was waiting for him at his house, Gary biked home. Unfortunately, when he got there, there was no sign of Jeff. He hurried inside to check his answering machine.

“Hey, radio man. I’m calling out of work today. I have something I need to do this afternoon. Just something I forgot about. I’ll come by later, okay?”

Well... that was kind of a relief. Jeff sounded... happy? Excited? Optimistic? Whatever it was, he sounded better than he had this morning. Hopefully that meant everything was okay. Or maybe even better than okay.

Even though Jeff’s message probably should have put him at ease, nervousness continued to cause Gary’s stomach to roil, and he ended up feeling sick for the rest of the day. Hosting his show proved to be a bit of a distraction, but every half hour, he found himself checking the window to see if Jeff would simply show up in the middle of Tell Me S’more . In between checking the window and trying to be a moderately entertaining radio show host, Gary kept an eye on the clock too, counting the minutes until his show was over, when he hoped Jeff would either come by or call. Sitting with low-level worry in his stomach for so many hours was proving to be a special form of torture.

Finally, one minute after eleven, the phone rang.

“Hello?” Gary answered.

“Hey,” Jeff said.

“Thank God.” Gary let out a forceful exhale. “I was worried.”

“I’m okay,” Jeff said. He hesitated for just a second before adding, “But I think I’ll stay here tonight.”

“Oh.” Gary’s stomach was suddenly churning with worry again. “Is everything okay? ”

“Not . . . really.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m still mad. About how I reacted yesterday.”

“When we were kissing, you mean?”

“Yeah,” Jeff said. “I thought I’d be able to fix it today, but...”

“Would it help if I said there’s nothing to fix?” Gary asked. He’d said the same thing before, but Jeff didn’t seem to be hearing him. Or couldn’t hear him, for whatever reason.

“Gare, maybe... maybe we should try to take a step back.”

Gary’s heart cracked.

“You’re . . . breaking up with me?”

“What?! No! Fuck!” Jeff’s words were interrupted by a loud thump . Maybe the sound of Jeff hitting his desk. “Gare, no, never . But I’m trying to—to fix this. I can’t keep putting you through the back-and-forth bullshit. I think we need to—to maybe stick to the phone for a while so that I can try to figure out how not to freak the fuck out whenever we’re together.”

Gary’s breath caught, and when he tried to inhale, it felt like his throat was closing, like he couldn’t force enough oxygen into his lungs. Even though Jeff was seemingly only talking about some temporary thing—he only wanted them to take a step back in hopes that that they could finally move forward—Gary couldn’t help but feel like they weren’t stepping back together, but like Jeff was stepping back. Alone.

Maybe... maybe Jeff had one foot out the door.

“Gare?”

Gary tried to respond, but his throat was still tight. Words wouldn’t come.

“Gare, it’s okay.”

It wasn’t okay. Because Jeff was leaving him .

And then, as though Jeff had heard the thoughts inside Gary’s head, Jeff said, in the sweetest, most reassuring voice, “Gare Bear, I’m not leaving. It’s okay. We’re okay.”

Gary’s lip quivered. “But... but I want to see you. I won’t kiss you. I won’t even try to kiss you. I swear. I won’t push you into anything. Ever. I’m sorry if I’ve been too pushy.”

“Gare, baby, it’s not you. I mean, it’s really not you. It’s that I keep making both of us feel like shit. Every time I think we’re okay, something happens to make me panic, and it... it’s embarrassing.” Gary listened as Jeff inhaled a long, shaky breath. “I called... someone... and I thought I’d be able to fix this, but, well, it’s not something I can fix very easily.”

“Called someone? Who?”

Jeff was quiet.

“Who?” Gary repeated, needing to know.

“No one.”

Gary’s heart stuttered. “Don?”

“No! Jesus, Gare! Why the fuck would I call Don?”

“Well, who else is there?!” Gary asked, his eyes now brimming with tears.

“No one!”

Unable to contend with the sudden rush of frustration and fear and overall confusion, Gary smacked the wall with his bare hand and yelped.

“Gare?”

“Stupid wall.”

“Christ. I’m making you violent now.”

God, the ridiculousness of that statement. Gary let out what he realized was probably an incredulous-sounding laugh.

“Oh, yeah, I’m a force to be reckoned with. Smacking the wall and injuring myself in the process,” Gary replied sarcastically. His small smile fell away. “Jeffrey, I’m confused. First, you tell me that you want us to spend time apart—”

“Come on, that’s not what I said.”

“—and then you say that you’re talking to someone but you won’t say who. Is there someone else in your life? Romantically?”

“What the fuck. Do you really think I’m like that?”

“Not really, but what else am I supposed to think?”

“Gare, I’m... I’m trying to talk to someone. Professionally.”

“Professionally,” Gary repeated. “Like a, uhm, a psychiatrist?”

Jeff mumbled something under his breath, but it was too muffled for Gary to understand, like maybe he was covering his mouth or something.

“Pardon?”

“ Psychologist .”

Geez, Gary could practically hear Jeff cringing through the phone.

Still, he was relieved.

“Oh, well, that’s... interesting. I mean, I’ve heard of people doing that.”

“Shut up, Gare, no you haven’t.”

With a playful scoff, Gary said, “Excuse me, I have a television. I’ve watched the news and soap operas and various other programs that have mentioned the existence of therapy.”

Jeff snorted. “Wow, thanks, radio man. I feel so normal now.”

“Sorry,” Gary said with a laugh. “I’m completely supportive of you, for what it’s worth.”

“Thanks,” Jeff said, his voice kind of muffled again.

Gary could picture Jeff trying to hide behind one of his hands. God, how he wanted to hug him right now, to tell him not to feel ashamed for wanting some help.

“Did the, uhm, psychologist tell you that we shouldn’t see each other in person or something? ”

“No, that’s me. I thought maybe before I embarrass the shit out of myself even more, I should try to see if I could fix everything.”

“I wish you wouldn’t be embarrassed.”

“But I am. So can I have a little time to try to learn how to not panic like I have been? Before we see each other again?”

“Well, yeah, of course.”

“Don’t ‘of course’ me when you were upset two minutes ago.”

“I was upset because you wouldn’t explain where you were coming from, not because you brought it up.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Jeff.”

“Gare.”

Gary couldn’t stifle the laugh. “Fine. I was upset. But I’m okay now. Or, well, when’s your next appointment? Can you tell me how long I have to endure the torture of not being able to see that cute face of yours?”

“It’ll be harder for me, Gare. You’re the cuter one,” Jeff said, and for the first time during their conversation, Gary could almost hear a smile in Jeff’s tone.

“See, now this is the type of argument I want us to be having,” Gary teased. “So, uh, when—”

“One week.”

“God, so I have one week minimum until I can be with you in person, huh? Probably longer. Then again, I think in that movie Ordinary People , the family only needed the two hours of the movie to heal, so maybe there’s some hope.”

Jeff chuckled and said, “Can I tell you something that’ll make me sound stupid?”

“Sure.”

“I really thought Dr. Goldstein would fix me in, like, an hour.”

Gary started chuckling too. “No. Come on.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m stupid. You can say it. ”

“Did you think she’d have some kind of magic wand?”

“Nah, more like a magic spell.”

Gary couldn’t stop laughing. “Jeff, that’s so . . .”

“Stupid.”

“Yeah,” Gary said, still laughing. “I’m sorry, but that’s so stupidly cute, I can hardly stand it.”

“Laugh it up, radio man,” Jeff said, clearly only pretending to be angry because Gary could hear him chuckling a little too. “You’re the one who’s stuck with someone whose brain is so messed up he thought he’d be fixed by talking to some random lady for fifty fucking minutes.”

“Oh, Jeffrey,” Gary said, his laughter finally dying. “I’m sorry I can’t help. Actually, can I help? Because you know I’d do anything for you.”

“I know. Just let me talk to her a bit more and see what she says. Maybe she’ll have some... breathing tricks or something.”

“Breathing tricks?”

“Counting sheep.”

“Do you not know what therapy is?”

“Shut the fuck up, radio man.”

“So, that’s a ‘no’ if I’ve ever heard one.”

For the next half hour, the two of them continued teasing each other, only ever occasionally scratching the surface of a serious conversation regarding Jeff seeing a therapist, but still, Gary had the sense that their laughter was sort of healing for Jeff. He seemed a lot more relaxed by the time they said good night and hung up.

In truth, Gary was feeling more relaxed by then too. Jeff’s honesty about seeing a psychologist was kind of... incredible. It was so vulnerable. And brave. And it helped Gary really believe that their relationship was special, that everything would work out.

Whether Jeff knew it or not, he was helping Gary overcome his need for physical intimacy as proof of love. It wasn’t instantaneous. But Gary could feel a change within himself—small, maybe, but important all the same.

Some time ago, Jeff had called Gary his sun. At the time, Gary really hadn’t known how to respond, but he’d thought back on it several times since. And while he still couldn’t be sure exactly what Jeff had meant, maybe Jeff was his sun too. Because even when they weren’t touching, Gary could still feel the warmth of Jeff’s love. He felt it each and every day.

***

Over the next couple of days, Gary and Jeff had talked on the phone every night, and even though Gary missed seeing Jeff in person, he was feeling surprisingly secure in their relationship, so much so that he had finally mustered up the courage to call his sister so that he could feel out the status of their relationship. Gary’s confidence in his bond with Jeff had helped him be okay with the notion that he might have lost not only his mom but his sister too.

Fortunately, Gary had been wrong about that. Dawn had been happy to hear from him. While she wasn’t really that mad that their mom had essentially prevented their father from coming back into their lives, she wasn’t mad that Gary was mad, either. Which was something.

And Gary still missed his mom. Not that they had seen each other that often before, but now that he had basically locked her out of his life, he missed her on a psychological level. Prior to their fight, he could have popped over whenever he wanted, could have called to say hello, but now, he was still too hurt and mad to forgive her.

It hurt his heart whenever he considered calling her.

But it hurt his heart even more knowing that she wasn’t calling him too.

What a miserable situation this was.

One day, when Gary had been feeling particularly low, memories of the happy times he’d had with both of his parents playing repeatedly in his head, Gary had called Jeff for support. And the two of them had talked for hours. And then, when Gary had hung up so that he could host Tell Me S’more , Jeff had called in to weigh in on the show’s silly conversation topic of the evening—the best type of Girl Scout cookie. Gary knew that Jeff didn’t really give a rat’s butt about the Girl Scout cookie flavors. Jeff had only called in so that Gary could continue to hear his voice. And, wow, was that ever sweet. Jeff calling in to talk about cookies had been one of the nicest, most supportive things anyone had ever done for him. And that support had helped him make it through the rest of the evening.

On the third day since their agreement not to see each other in person, Gary was finishing up relaying some local news on the air when his phone started to ring. Glancing at the clock—ten minutes ’til ten—he blurted out a wonky-sounding apology to his listeners and then threw on “Let It Be” by the Beatles before hurrying into the kitchen to answer away from the studio.

“Hello?”

“Gare.”

It was Jeff, but his voice seemed strange—hoarse, maybe, and kind of small—and a ripple of worry rolled through Gary’s body.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. ”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re calling before the end of my program for nothing.”

“Just . . . uh . . .”

Gary tried to be patient through Jeff’s silence, but his palms were starting to sweat.

Finally, right before Gary was about to prompt him again, Jeff said, “Don called.”

“Oh.” Gary’s heart clenched. He leaned against the wall for a moment before slowly sinking to the floor. “What’d he...” What did he want? What a stupid thing that was to ask. Again. “What, uhm, what’d you say?” He couldn’t really be sure if that was any better.

“He wanted me to come to O’Henry’s. Said he’d bring some of my stuff.”

“Tell me you’re not going.”

“I’m not.”

“Okay. Good.”

With an irritated-sounding sigh, Jeff said, “I wish he’d stop calling.”

“Why’d he start up again?”

“Probably because he saw us together.”

Gary frowned. “So, what, you think he’s jealous?”

“Who wouldn’t be jealous of you, Gare?”

“I think you need your head checked. Did you smack it on something lately? Or, hey, maybe you need your eyes checked instead. Imagine both of us with big, silly frames like mine,” Gary said, tapping his glasses with his index finger. “How cute would that be?”

“I think I’ll hold off on the eye check. I’ll wait for my eventual, inevitable reading glasses.”

“Geez, by then I’ll have bifocals.”

“And you’ll still be the hottest one in Niles, radio man. ”

Gary smiled a little. “Thanks, Jeff. You really are too sweet sometimes.” He stretched his legs out in front of him. “Do you think he’ll ever stop calling?”

“I hope so.”

“I’m not being pushy, but have you asked him to stop?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Gare, it’s... I’m not even myself when I’m with him,” Jeff said, his voice smaller again, which made Gary recognize what it probably was that Jeff was feeling: shame. “Remember when I scolded you for throwing fries in the mall?”

“When you completely turned my world upside down with your John Bender-ness?”

“My what?”

“Never mind. Continue.”

“Well, if it had been Don throwing fries, I’d never have said anything. Not now. Maybe when I’d first met him. Or before.”

Before.

Every time Gary had ever let himself imagine what Jeff had been through, there was this twinge in his chest, the pain reminiscent of someone pressing on a newly formed bruise, and the pain was becoming worse every single time his mind went there. And now, sitting on the floor of his kitchen, Gary found himself wincing from the intensity of it.

Before Gary could even murmur a single word of sympathy, Jeff continued on, “Anyway, no, I can’t seem to tell him to stop.”

“Well, what if I told him instead?”

“Yeah, Gare, I’m sure that’ll work,” Jeff said, his voice so thick with sarcasm it would probably make a better coat than Gary’s crummy old parka that he’d been wearing the first time he and Jeff had met .

“Come on, why wouldn’t it? I mean, maybe he’ll feel embarrassed.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Aren’t his calls hurting you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Fine? Excuse me, Jeffrey, what time is it? Did I black out for a couple of hours and not realize that you were calling at our regular time?” Gary asked. “No, that’s not what happened. I know that’s not what happened because I’m wearing the watch I wound this morning.”

“Jesus, how old—”

“It’s from a flea market,” Gary said, fighting a smile. “Now, I know you want to tease me for having this thing, but I have to tell you, it works okay, which means that you called me early. Jeffrey, you called me because you were feeling bad. Don made you feel bad. And if you can’t tell him to stop calling—”

“Fine. I’ll tell him.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure.”

All of a sudden, Gary found himself watching a scene that had yet to come to fruition but was one he feared was as inevitable as tomorrow’s sunrise. With crystal-clear clarity, Gary was visualizing the sequence of events: Jeff confronting Don at the now-infamous O’Henry’s, only to be met with hostility in return, maybe even physical violence. Gary couldn’t imagine that Don would react well to Jeff’s request for space.

Picturing Jeff being hurt by the behemoth that was his ex, Gary was seized by a strong feeling of protectiveness, one so profound that its power unearthed a courage inside of him, the likes of which he hadn’t even known he possessed. No way could he let Jeff be the one to confront Don. He’d have to confront Don himself. For weeks, he’d been wanting to help Jeff unburden himself of his past. Now, finally, it seemed that the universe had presented him with the opportunity. Of course, Jeff probably wouldn’t be too keen on the idea.

Which meant that Gary couldn’t tell him.

“Hey, Jeff, mind if I return to my show? I’ll end it early. Actually, I’ll finally make that announcement that from now on, Tell Me S’more will only run ’til ten.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Do you want me to call you after?” Gary asked. “Because I was thinking that, well, if I was ending early, maybe we could have our nightly chat early too.”

“Yeah, of course, Gare.”

“Okay. Great.”

After the two of them hung up, Gary went back to hosting, and while playing one final song for his listeners, he scribbled some notes to figure out what, exactly, he would say to Don. Because once he was finished talking to Jeff, he’d be paying a visit to O’Henry’s. All he needed was a ride.

***

At ten minutes after eleven, Gary was in the passenger seat of Mel’s car, wringing his hands nervously as they made their way to Newton Falls. Every couple of seconds, Gary kept shifting his position, making the leather seat crackle beneath him. All of that courage he’d possessed earlier? Gone.

“I think you’re wearing a hole in the fabric,” Mel said without taking her eyes off the road. “Quit moving so much.”

“Oh, come on, this car is on its last legs, and you know it.”

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

“Positive.”

“Confronting someone’s ex? It’s not like you, Gare.”

“First, Jeff isn’t someone . He’s... he’s my sun.” Mel made a little aww noise, though there was a touch of sarcasm beneath the sweetness. “Second, I can’t let Jeff talk to him. Trust me, he’s been through enough already. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if, because of my insistence that Jeff kindly request Don stop calling, he ended up with a broken nose or... or worse.”

“Broken nose?! Geez, how violent is this guy?”

Gary let out a breath. “We’ll find out.”

“I’m pretty sure this is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done in your life.”

“Probably.”

The moment the neon-green O’Henry’s sign came into view, Gary winced, feeling like his stomach had somehow managed to leap up out of his throat while also simultaneously falling out of his ass. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been so terrified.

Mel pulled into a parking spot and asked, “Are you sure he’ll be here?”

“No, but Jeff said he invited him here tonight, so, you know, I think it’s a safe enough assumption.” Gary took a couple of long, uneven breaths. “I think I might pass out.”

She threw the car back in reverse. “Okay, that’s it, I’m pulling the plug on this harebrained scheme of yours.”

“No!” Gary put his hand on top of hers. “I need to do this.”

“Ugh.” Mel put it in park again. “Fine, but if you aren’t back in ten minutes, I’m coming in there. And I’m not riding with you to the hospital if you end up needing medical attention. I have work in the morning. Do you think I have time to waste in the ER?”

“You’re such a liar, Mel. We both know you’d come with me. ”

“Shut up,” Mel said, her smile reassuring both of them that, yes, she would, in fact, accompany him to the ER.

Although Mel’s teasing had distracted him a tiny bit for a few seconds, the moment Gary got out of the car, his fear came back tenfold. And by the time he made his way inside, his body no longer really felt like his normal human one, but like a massive gelatinous blob barely being held together by a bunch of flimsy popsicle sticks. Walking was proving to be a challenge, what with his legs shaking beneath him the entire time.

Still, somehow, Gary managed to walk over to the bar. He thought about collapsing onto one of the bar stools but worried that he might not be able to stand again if he did. So instead, he settled for leaning against the bar counter. Once he was feeling a little more solid, he started to search the room for his target.

As sinister as he’d built up O’Henry’s to be in his head, it was really only a regular bar. Actually, it was kind of cruddy, with off-white walls and mismatched wood paneling and a third of the lightbulbs burnt out. It wasn’t long before Gary spotted Don by the other end of the bar, chatting with a couple of friends. Geez, Don really was a behemoth—nearly a head taller than everyone else and built thick and burly.

Ugh.

Heart thudding wildly, Gary took a bunch of slow breaths to try to calm himself (the phrase “breathing tricks” kept popping into his head, followed by the silly thought of a therapist telling Jeff to count sheep in times of panic, which made him smile a little). He started strumming his fingers on the countertop too (the repetitive sound brought a strange sort of comfort). After a couple of minutes, Don broke away from his circle of friends. And started walking toward Gary.

Stunned, Gary stumbled back a few steps, bumping into the jukebox. Gary realized Don was probably coming over to put on some music, rather than to beat the crud out of a complete stranger. Would Don even recognize him? In only seconds, he’d find out.

When Don and Gary were within a couple of feet of each other, Goliath stopped in his tracks and then proceeded to look Gary over, his head tilting to the side ever so slightly, brow furrowing in confusion.

“Aren’t you Jeff’s friend?”

“Boyfriend.”

“Right.” Nodding thoughtfully, Don pursed his lips. “Is Jeff here?”

Gary shook his head. Don kept nodding. He had a very punchable face.

Gary tried to push the thought out of his mind. He’d never stand a chance in a fight.

“Uh...” Don’s eyes flickered to the jukebox. “Can you move?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Gary said, stepping to the side. “But, hey, I-I thought maybe we could talk about something.”

“Yeah?” Don slipped a quarter into the slot and started pressing the number buttons to pick the song he wanted. “What, was Jeff whining to you about me calling him?”

Gary frowned. Shoot. He hadn’t really thought about how it would look.

“Uh, no,” Gary said, which was only kind of a lie. Jeff hadn’t been whining. Exactly.

Straightening his posture, Gary prepared to recite the speech he’d been practicing in his head, but then Don interrupted his thoughts.

“He left a bunch of shit at my place,” Don said. “I thought I’d be the bigger man and return it. That’s all. ”

Bigger man? Don sure thought highly of himself. Without even needing to think over his words, Gary started laying into him a little.

“Well, see, the problem is that you’re bothering him. Whatever Jeff left behind, clearly he has no need for it anymore. It’s been years since the two of you were together.” It was kind of incredible that his voice was coming out so level, even though his legs were wobbling like they were made of Jell-O. “So, I wanted to tell you that we’d appreciate it—or, I’d appreciate it, rather—if you’d refrain from calling again.”

Don scoffed, one of his eyebrows ticking up slightly, and then he looked around in a “Can you believe this guy?” kind of way, even though the other patrons nearby were barely paying either of them any mind.

“Look, I know what you’re thinking, but I have no interest in Mr. Jeff Russo anymore. I moved on. Easily . And I’m not sure what he told you about me, but that pip-squeak likes to play the victim, pretend he wasn’t enjoying—”

Before Gary could think better of it, he placed his hands on Don’s shoulders and shoved. Hard. But, as it turned out, he wasn’t strong enough to make Don move. Not even an inch. Instead, since Gary had put every bit of oomph he possessed behind that silly push, he only ended up pushing himself back a step, like Don’s massive form had been some kind of springboard. Gary sent himself tripping over a stool, and when he landed next to the high-top table with an embarrassing thud, the force of the fall caused his glasses to slide off his face and bounce onto the sticky tile floor.

“Shit,” Gary muttered under his breath.

He inched his hand toward the fuzzy black frames, but before he could reach them, Don’s boot landed on top of them.

Crunch.

“Ooops,” Don said .

Even without the help of his lenses, Gary could sense that Don was looking at him like he was a complete fuckup. And he really was a fuckup, wasn’t he? As a sort of Hail Mary, Gary continued to stare up at the blurry blob that was Jeff’s ex and put on the meanest look he could muster, one that included scowling and furrowing of brows and an honest attempt to shoot lasers out of his pathetically inept eyeballs. But it probably only looked like he was squinting.

“Just stop calling him,” Gary said, as though he wasn’t the one spilled out on the floor like he’d just had his ass handed to him.

Don let out a snort of amusement in response. Geez, this was not going well.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll put his shit out by the curb tomorrow.”

Well, hey, that was something.

“Good,” Gary said, feeling a bit triumphant.

Unfortunately, that feeling of triumph was short-lived. When Don walked past, he smacked his fist on the high-top table that Gary had nearly slammed into before, and Gary looked up to see a heavy highball glass tumbling over the edge. Toward his face.

Crack.

“Ow, fuck!”

Gary’s shouted expletive only seemed slightly louder than the horrible sound his nose had made the second the glass’s thick base had smacked into it. Suddenly, his face was very wet. And only some of it was from the beer.

Scooping up his now-very-crooked frames (and what was left of the lenses), Gary staggered to his feet. No sooner had he found his footing than he heard Brandon’s voice, followed by Mel’s.

“Oh shit!” Brandon yelled.

“Gare!” Mel called, rushing over.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Gary said, though now his mouth was filled with the taste of iron. He shoved the remnants of his eyewear into his right front pocket. “Gee, I hope the optometrist can squeeze me in tomorrow.”

“Were you trying to fight Don?” Brandon asked, clearly aware of how stupid that idea sounded.

“Yeah, kinda,” Gary said. He tried to pinch the bottom of his nose, but the touch hurt too much, and he winced and pulled his hand away. “‘Trying’ being the operative word.”

“We should call the cops,” Mel said before handing Gary a wad of white bar napkins.

“Technically, I’m the only one who landed a blow,” Gary said. “If you could even call it that. So, let’s not. I’ll end up being the one in cuffs.”

Mel put a hand on his back. “I hope you’ll tell me what you mean by that on the way home.”

“Well, I can’t say I’m too interested in staying here now,” Brandon said. “Shit, all I wanted was a couple of beers.”

“Sorry, Brandon,” Gary said. “I’m sure Don won’t bother you if you stay. It really was me who beat me up. I swear.”

“Nah, it’s cool. Guess I’ll call my brother on the pay phone in a few, tell him to pick me up early. Poor fucker only pulled out of the parking lot two minutes ago.”

“I’ll take you home,” Mel offered.

“Ah, thanks,” Brandon said, and then he looked over at Gary and winced. “Sorry about your face.”

“Good thing I have no need for it, huh?” Gary said before tacking on, “You know, because I’m only on the radio?”

Mel rubbed his back. “Come on, Gary. Let’s get you home.”

Together, the three of them headed out of the bar, Mel directing Gary by looping an arm through his. They took Brandon to his house, which was only a few minutes away, and then Gary and Mel left to drive back to Niles .

And for the whole drive, Gary stared blankly out the window, feeling like the world’s biggest fool.