3. Martini Time

Todd found it hard to leave the shower. It felt like a respite from reality. For the first five minutes, he just stood there, head tilted back, letting the warm water wash the grit and grime out of his hair, cascading onto his upturned face. It trickled along his eyelashes, dancing across the corners of his lips. In the dusky light of the bathroom the steam whirred and licked around his lean body, the bright shock of hair atop his head like a flame fighting to stay alight against the unending torrent. He could have stayed like that forever: warm, quiet, alone—the only sound was the gentle pitter-patter of droplets striking against the tiled floor. But as the last of the fancy soaps and creams he'd used to clean himself swirled down the drain—their exotic fragrances with them—Todd caught the distant whiff of…

Wait, was that burning?

He turned off the shower and dried off in somewhat of a hurry. As he dressed, he found the clothes Zack had lent him were slightly oversized, though not as badly as he'd expected. He initially felt a little goofy in the fuzzy wool hiking socks, but after taking them for a test drive around the bathroom, he had to admit that they felt fucking fantastic. He flexed his toes in them, enjoying the way they hugged back at his feet. Todd regarded himself briefly in the half-steamed-up bathroom mirror—black sweatshirt, black sweat shorts. Bright red fucking hair. He tucked the sweatshirt into the shorts, eyeing himself wearily, then untucked it. Then half tucked it. Then, he realized how dumb it was to think it mattered how he looked to his newly acquired step-brother, who was out of his league by a mile and likely not even gay…

Todd giggled nervously, realizing how far his thoughts were trailing off to distract him from the shadows, before heading off to join Zack.

"Yeah so…,"Zack said apologetically as Todd entered the kitchen. "I might have oversold my culinary abilities. Those were supposed to be eggs." He absently waved a kitchen towel in the direction of a charcoal-filled pan. "Granted they probably don't qualify as eggs anymore." He coughed, choking on a mouthful of smoke. "But I promise you that at some point, very recently, those were very much eggs."

Todd laughed. "Do you want some help?" He gestured toward the stove, not really sure if the situation was salvageable at this point.

"I promised you lunch, you're getting lunch," Zack assured him, shooing him away. "Nice look, by the way." Zack nodded at Todd's getup, and Todd thought he almost detected a slight blush hidden behind the olive tone of Zack's cheeks, but the large man turned away far too quickly for Todd to get a confirming look.

"Hang on," Zack said, taking a few long strides across the kitchen. "I actually always come prepared with a plan B." He tossed the towel onto the counter and began shuffling loudly around in a large refrigerator, eventually emerging with a pizza box held high in his hands. "Plan B," he said sagely, raising the box up above his head like it were a holy relic. "Poolside pizza."

Zack had insistedthey sit out by the pool while they ate the slices of cold pizza. "Sun's out," he'd said simply, leading the way once again. And in the time since they'd last been outside, the sun had indeed crept its way from behind the clouds. Zack dragged two of the myriad lounge chairs near one another, and the two ate in silence. Todd was enjoying the spring sunshine as he wolfed down one slice of pepperoni and then another. It felt amazing to be outside, breathing in the ocean air. New England winters were long, and after months indoors, he was glad for a change of scenery.

"It's beautiful here." Todd said appreciatively.

"Yeah, not the worst place to grow up." Zack said, squinting off into the horizon.

Todd was about to reach for a third slice (not a personal record, that was five, thank you very much) when he felt a familiar buzzing in his pocket. He flinched. There weren't many people he was necessarily looking to take a call from at this moment. Especially with Dad away. He thought about ignoring it, but then his anxiety got the better of him—as it usually did—and he whipped the phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen, hoping to god it wasn't Danver—finding his thoughts turning yet again today toward that blond hair and those icy-blue eyes that he so desperately wanted to forget entirely.

It wasn't.

Todd was actually surprised to find the caller was his former boss, Francine, the director of his last internship.

The one and only,Todd thought darkly.

Maybe she was going to offer him a job as a flight attendant this time… or maybe she'd forgotten how to unlock her tablet computer, again. But then… she hadn't been that bad. Not really.He answered. "Hey, Franc?—"

"Kid, I don't have a lot of time to chitchat." Her raspy voice raked across him like sandpaper. She wasn't waiting for a reply, he knew, and Todd settled back in his lounger. On the other end of the line, he heard the clink of ice cubes landing expertly in a glass. Then the plunk of a bottle opening, followed swiftly by the hearty glug of a hard pour. Finally, the plop-plop of two olives. The whole sequence played out in about four seconds. Dirty martini: her one o'clock staple. Lunch, she'd call it. It was only 12:30 p.m., but Todd had seen her call 10 a.m. "martini time," so he was just going to grant her this one without too much in the way of judgment.

"I've got some freelance work for ya," she continued as if there had been no pause in their conversation. "I know, I know, no hard feelings about the nanny gig, kid. Not everyone is cut out for that kind of work." Todd thought about interjecting that he had, infact, turned down her offer, but then thought better of it. "Thing is," she continued seamlessly, "I found a girl from Malaga or Manila who does reiki on the dogs so that's sort of a double whammy for me now, anyways. Francie's covered. Ya don't need to worry about her or her little poopkins anymore…" She trailed off and he heard her take a sip. Then another.

Did she just take a drag from a cigarette? Todd wondered, incredulously.

She let out a wheezing sigh followed by a halfhearted gurgle. Silence. A giggle? Then a small, almost imperceptible hiccup.

Then, finally: "Anyway, how about a job? Paid!"She punctuated the last word like it was some additional incentive not normally present in a work contract. "This isssss Toddy"—another drag from that cigarette—"riggggght?" she followed up in a breathy, impatient tone, as though exhaling the smoke at the same time.

"I, uh… sure? Yes. Yes. This is Toddy." Fuck. "Todd," he corrected. He glanced self-consciously at Zack, who mercifully pretended to be distracted by a seagull that had landed nearby, but Todd reddened when he noticed that the corners of his mouth curled into a smirk.

"What's the job?" Toddy asked Francine.

"Oh, darling." Another sip. "Francie doesn't have"—a burp followed by some chortling—"time to go through all of the details with you!Flat rate of ten thousand dollars. Half up front. Half at job's end." She'd dropped the lyrical affectation—if only briefly—while mentioning the numbers, but then quickly resumed it, following up with: "I'll send you an address, and Viktor—total doll, lovvvvve Viktor—he'll give you the rest of the information. He's lost something dear to him and needs someone reliable to help him track it dowwwwn." Hiccup. "Sending the contract now, dearie. Toodles!" He heard her put the phone down and begin making another drink while humming a tune with no melody.

Clink. Plunk. Glug. Plop.

Unsure whether the call was truly over, Todd decided he better hang up because a part of him knew Francine might never make it around to doing so herself, and she had circled around fully now to muttering animatedly in between sips and gurgles and unenthusiastic murmurs. He ended it.

To Todd's surprise, a moments later a ding on his phone informed him that she had indeed sent both a contract and the first half of the payment she'd promised. Todd was stunned. This was enough to pay off his entire credit card debt and then some! He sat there for a moment, holding the phone dumbly in his hands, staring out at the unfamiliar view as a pair of small sailboats drifted lazily across the middle distance, the wind gently pushing them along in unison. His eyes glazed over with apprehensive relief.

"Good news?" Zack inquired, tone slightly anxious, apparently reacting uncertainly to the other boy's protracted silence.

"Yeah. I, uh… I guess I got a job? Kinda?" Todd's voice cracked on the word "job." He wasn't really sure what to call it. Or what the job evenwas, for that matter. But he had helped Francine do a small bit of investigative work on the side during his internship at the newspaper, so he imagined it would be something along the lines of tracking down a person who was difficult to locate or hunting down some artifact that had a poorly documented chain of custody. Something innocuous, like a spoon collection. Or an old doll. Both had been assignments during his time with Francine before. Neither had been fun to deal with. It hadn't been glamorous work. But it hadn't been necessarily hard, either. And most importantly, it most certainly had never paid ten thousand dollars before. Todd couldn't believe how his day was turning around.

Todd looked excitedly toward Zack, before asking, "Hey, do you know where this is?" He held up his phone for him.

Zack shielded his eyes and squinted into the sun as he tried to read the screen, reaching out his other hand and taking Todd's, drawing the phone and Todd's hand toward himself. Zack's hand enveloped Todd's entirely. Zack squeezed his hand playfully around the smaller man's, the pressure causing Todd's crotch to surge uncomfortably. Then his focus fell back to the phone, and he abruptly let go.

Todd managed a breath.

"Yarmouth? Yeah, it's just north of here. A little ways. out, not too far. Why? What's in Yarmouth?" Zack asked coyly, as though all of the tension between them were merely fraternal banter. He had propped himself up on one elbow in his lounge chair, a slice of pizza dangling out of his mouth.

"My old boss needs me to go up there and interview some guy about a stolen… something? I guess she's offering it to me as some sort of freelance gig. I really could use the work, if I'm honest. Credit card debt." Todd added shamefully, glancing back at his phone:

Yarmouth. Viktor Vulg. 9 Quaking Oaks Way. 4pm. Go get ‘em, Kid.

That was it. That was all Francine had sent him. Along with that five-thousand-dollar advance…which he supposed if he accepted, bound him to find whatever needed finding for this Viktor guy. Todd wondered if Snail would be up to a bit of a drive after her long morning. He hoped so.

"Do you want some company?" Zack offered, surprising Todd with his candor. "Traffic is bad this time of day. I know a back way we can take."

"You're not busy?" Todd queried, wondering how it was Zack had nothing better to do on a Thursday afternoon than hang out with his new stepbrother, feeling unworthy of the sudden interest and kindness he was showing him.

"Nope!" Zack said. He hopped out of his pool chair with that now-familiar energy. Todd kept waiting for a crack to appear in the surface of Zack's demeanor: for some sort of confirmation that all of this was the setup to some inevitable disappointment. But Zack was so… steady. So even. That smile seemed to just tumble out of him. And even though Todd wanted to disprove it all somehow, he found it increasingly hard to do so.

Zack extended an enormous hand to help Todd out of his chair. Todd took it gratefully, thrilled by the rush of being pulled so easily to his feet. Todd let go of Zack's hand as he fought to regain his sense of up and down in more ways than one. His life, all of this, it was all moving so fast. Too fast. And yet… and yet…

Todd found himself smiling, then.Really smiling.

"I gotta piss, then we can hit the road." Zack winked.

Todd chuckled at his candor, and he found Zack smiling back at him. Todd could sense a wildfire was starting to catch in the smoldering heat erupting between them. He was having a harder and harder time believing that he just imagined it, too: he even swore he could feel the heat from it now, the warmth licking out from its hungry flames. Todd felt them ripple and blaze across parts of him he'd never known existed. And he didn't know if he wanted to extinguish it anymore, even if he could. His entire body felt like it was on fire.

"I'll be right there." Todd said, awkwardly turning to face the ocean, not wanting his blush to be as obvious to Zack as he feared it was.

"Sure thing." Zack said, leaving him.

Before turning back to the house, Todd felt compelled to give one final glance at the ocean. He noted that it had grown choppy and was streaked with white-capped waves, glowing aquamarine in the midday sun. The calls of seagulls punctuated the crash of the waves as they pounded in synchrony against the shoreline.

Farther out still, a series of coal-black clouds had begun to form. Todd froze, his mouth instantly dry at the sight of them. He'd seen those clouds before. They'd followed him his entire life. They'd stolen his mother from him. And he knew without a doubt that they meant to consume him.

Told you. It whispered. They're coming. It laughed.

"Fuck you." Todd muttered, turning his back on the sea and the voice.

Todd hurried inside after Zack, shivering now despite the sunshine, wanting desperately to get back to the place of warmth they'd shared so briefly. But he didn't know if he'd be able to. Not with those clouds on the horizon. Not when he knew just what they were capable of…