Unwholesome Things - Part 10

Beta by LP, all remaining mistakes are mine. 

Oren was jarred from sleep by the alarm on his phone. One hand fumbled on the nightstand until he found it, pressing buttons until he managed to silence the song that had sounded significantly better when he’d chosen it.

He didn’t know why he’d bothered to set one. It wasn’t like he had a reason to get up early today.

He was nearly back asleep when something made him sit up and take his phone from the nightstand. After rubbing just enough sleep from his eyes to be able to focus on the screen, he read:

One received call, Rezo 8:03 a.m.

Received call? But he didn’t… Oren was suddenly very awake. According to the call timer it was an eleven second call. Eleven seconds of Rezo listening while he pressed buttons and made disgruntled sleep noises until finally disconnecting.

Rezo had called him—for the first time ever—and he’d hung up on him.

He had to call him back.

But first he had to make his heart stop pounding. If he called now there was a danger it would be audible through the receiver. He spent a moment testing his voice until he thought it sounded not only alert, but calm and indifferent. Absolutely not like he was desperate to hear from Rezo and even more desperately hoping he was calling to profess his endless love and desire to be his boyfriend.

He pressed send.

Please let him be calling to profess his endless love and desire to be my boyfriend.

“Hi,” Rezo answered. “I just called you.”

“Um, yeah, sorry I thought you were the alarm.” Oren winced at how not calm and indifferent his voice sounded.

“That explains why you hung up on me.” Rezo’s smile could be heard in his voice.

“That’s what happens to people that can’t remember what reasonable calling hours are.” Oren was beginning to relax. Talking on the phone wasn’t that much different than talking in person.

Rezo snorted. “You left your bag in my car.”

“What bag?”

“The one with the clothes you wore to the bar. The ones that you threw—”

“Oh, those.” Oren was mortified enough by the memory; he had no desire to talk about it. “Sorry, I forgot about them.”

“It's alright, you had other things on your mind.” Somehow Rezo managed to say that without any innuendo at all. As if what Oren had been thinking about hadn’t involved the two of them and kissing.

Which was completely unacceptable. Just because dating wasn’t a possibility didn’t mean there had to be an extinction of amorous banter and mixed signals.  

“I had a good reason to be distracted.” Oren’s voice was lower and huskier than he’d intended. He obviously needed to spend more time on the phone with Rezo so he could practice his verbal flirtation techniques.

There was a pause. Oren chose to believe it was because Rezo was overcome with longing.

“Anyway,” Rezo said. “My mom washed them, so they’re clean and folded. Do you want to go to the park after class, so I can give them to you?”

Oren forced himself to take a breath before he answered.

“Yeah, sure, that’d be great.” The words came out in a gush. At some point he had to learn some self-control.

“Ok, I'll be there at five, unless…?” Rezo stopped as if uncertain if he should finish the question.

“Unless what?”

“Did you want me to meet you at your house? I know you wanted to walk by yourself the one time, but I don’t know if you’re still comfortable with that, or—”

“My house works.” More time with Rezo was always a good thing. Besides, he still remembered what Jeff had said about Rezo escorting him “all chivalrous-like.” He’d been embarrassed then, but now anything that made this seem more like a relationship wasn’t only desirable, but strategic. Maybe he could worm his way into the position of boyfriend without anyone noticing until it was too late.

Oren barely heard what Rezo said as he ended the conversation. He couldn’t stop grinning. Rezo hadn’t made it one day without wanting to see him. This was going to be a good day, even if it had begun at a ridiculous hour.

Too restless to go back to sleep, he searched through his phone contacts until he found Norman’s number. He could get used to having his cell charged and available. Not only could he talk to Rezo, but also it was much easier to call Norman than to page him on the intercom while he pretended not to hear.

“Hello, sir, you’re up early,” Norman answered. He paused as if to insinuate how unusual that was as well as subtly pass judgment. “How can I help you?”

“I need something to drink.”

“What kind of beverage would you like, sir?” Norman sounded less than enthusiastic. He was remarkably lazy for a servant, as if he had forgotten the “to serve” part of the arrangement.

“The kind with caffeine.” Oren could visualize him flinching.

“Of course, sir, anything else?”

“Um…” He dragged out the word to keep Norman on edge. “No, not for now. I’ll call you if I think of anything.”

“I will await your call then, sir.”

Oren was in the process of disconnecting when Norman spoke again.

“Did you want any specific clothes ready for this evening, sir?”

“This evening?” Oren echoed.

“Yes.”

Oren waited for Norman to elaborate. He didn’t.

“I don’t know why I would. I’m just going to the park.”

“My apologies, sir, but I was referring to your other engagement.”

Oren felt a prickling sensation on the back of his neck. He knew, with absolute certainty, that Norman was about to say something to upset him.

“What other engagement?”

“Your dinner with your parents.”

“What?” Oren shouted into the receiver.

“Dinner will be at seven.” Norman’s voice sounded quieter, as if the phone was being held at a distance from his head. Even so, Oren could tell he was savoring the experience of causing him misery.

“But they’re on vacation.” 

“I’m picking them up from the airport at four. They should be home no later than five-thirty.”

“They can’t be back.” This is terrible. “I have plans.”

“Rezo is invited as well. They are looking forward to meeting him.”

And that was the last thing Oren wanted. Norman and Rezo’s acquaintance was painful enough.

“Why didn’t you warn me about this?”

“I attempted to tell you as soon as they informed me, sir.”

“When?” Norman had to be lying. This wasn’t exactly the kind of thing he would forget.

“Yesterday, when you returned from your sleepover with Mr. Diaz.”

Except maybe then. He did vaguely remember Norman trying to tell him something before he’d blown him off.

“You should have tried harder for something this important—and it wasn’t a sleepover. I’m not eight.”

“Of course you aren’t, sir.” The way he said that, as if he was only humoring him because Oren was, in some way, only eight, made him want to reach through the phone and throttle him. “What would you prefer I call it, sir?”

“Nothing, don’t even bring it up.”

“As you wish, sir.”

He hated the way Norman conceded. It always made him feel like he was secretly pulling one over on him. But he didn’t have time to figure out what it was, he needed to focus on the more immediate crisis—dinner.

“I’m not going.”

“I am simply telling you what your parents expect of you. Did you need anything other than the beverage, of the caffeinated kind?”

Oren hung up on him, which while satisfying, did nothing to quell his panic. There was no way he could allow his parents and Rezo to meet. Why, whenever anything good happened, did something awful swiftly follow? The day he and Rezo finally became an item he’d probably walk out the front door and get hit by a meteor. It wasn’t fair.

He had to do something to prevent this. He had no idea what. But there was one thing he was certain of; he wasn’t going to cancel with Rezo.

***

Rezo looked surprised, but not unhappy, to see Oren waiting for him at the bus stop.

“Hi,” Rezo said, and he grinned for no explainable reason other than that he was seeing Oren. Oren’s pulse quickened at the thought and he found himself grinning back.

“Hi,” Oren said finally, when he remembered it was the appropriate thing to do.

“I thought I was meeting you at your house?”

Oren shrugged. “I felt like walking.” He broke eye contact just long enough to say the lie. He didn’t want to take any chances. Rezo seemed to have a preternaturally high ability for detecting such things.

“Did you want to drop your clothes off first?” Rezo held out a plastic grocery bag.

It took Oren a moment to figure out how the two were related. Then he realized the clothes were in the bag. While he could understand keeping clothes with vomit on them in a plastic bag, it seemed strange to put clean clothes in one. But Rezo probably had some sort of reason for doing so, and he didn’t really care enough to ask.

“No, let’s go straight to the park,” Oren said as he accepted the bag. He didn’t want to be at his house when his parents arrived.  

Together they walked to the picnic tables. The weather was nice which meant the park was crowded. They eventually found an empty table and began to set their respective art and study paraphernalia out, when Oren’s phone began emitting the same obnoxious ring tone from this morning. He promised himself he’d change it as soon as he was alone.

He wasn’t surprised to see Norman’s name on the screen. He silenced it and put it back in his pocket.

“Who was that?” Rezo asked.

Oren concealed his guilt with a sly smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Ah.” Rezo smirked. “It’s either your mother or Norman. No one else calls you.”

“Maybe it’s a new boyfriend.”

Rezo snorted, he opened his mouth to make a retort but was interrupted when his phone began to ring.

He looked at it and Oren felt a sense of foreboding. He told himself he had no logical reason to—it was just the timing that was unsettling.

“Hello, Mr. Chase?” Rezo said.

Oren froze. How did Norman have his number? It had taken Oren months to get it.

“Oh, yeah, he’s right here. Did you want to talk to him?” Rezo paused to listen and although Oren tried his best, he was unable to make out what Norman said. “No, he didn’t mention anything to me…oh, I see.” Rezo gave Oren a look. “Well, I’ll have to talk to Oren first, but thank you for the invitation…yeah, I’ll make sure he goes straight home.” Rezo put his phone away before he turned to acknowledge Oren.

He was doomed.

“So that was Norman,” Rezo said as if it wasn’t already obvious. “He wanted to know why you weren’t at the house to meet your parents.”

“I made plans with you before I found out they were returning. It’s not like I won’t see them later.”

“You see me all the time.” Rezo frowned. “But your parents have been gone for months.”

“Well, yeah, that’s true.” When Rezo said it, it made him sound heartless. “It’s not like I don’t keep in contact with them, or at least my mom. Even you pointed out that she’s one of the only people that calls me.”

“Norman said I was invited, so there was no reason why you couldn’t have seen me and them at the same time.”

Oren didn’t have a good argument for that, but he knew better than to think Rezo would let him drop the subject. In fact, he was giving him his “I’m going to wait for you to explain why you didn’t choose the reasonable solution until you actually manage to satisfy my ridiculous expectations” look. Oren did his best not to sigh in response.

“Yeah, because having everyone in the same room would be such a great idea.” Oren rolled his eyes in case his sarcastic tone wasn’t enough to get his point across.

“Ah.” Rezo’s expression had become unreadable.

“You really don’t want to go. It would be…” Oren took a moment to search for a suitable word, “awkward.”

“So, basically, you think it would be awkward if your parents were to meet me?”

“Exactly.” Oren was amazed. For once they were on the same page.

But instead of being content with their understanding, Rezo set his jaw in a firm line and for a moment Oren almost thought he looked…hurt?

“I don’t think I can concentrate on studying anymore.” Rezo began stuffing his textbooks back into his backpack. His movements lacked their usual grace. He didn’t even seem to notice when a few pages were folded back inside a cover.

“Wait, why?”

Rezo didn’t say anything, his shoulders tensed.

“What did I do now?” Oren stood up. “If you’re going to be pissed at me you could at least tell me why.”

“Look, if you’re ashamed of me, that’s your problem.”

“What?” Where had Rezo gotten that idea?

Rezo stopped to look at him. “Did you expect me to be happy about it?”   

“I—what are you talking about?”

“You’re the one that’s too ashamed to let your parents meet me.”

Oren was too stunned to speak. He took a step toward Rezo, but stopped, uncertain how to respond to an accusation that had come out of nowhere.

“That’s not what I meant,” Oren said.

Rezo shouldered his backpack.

“No, really. I just didn’t think you’d want to meet them and that you’d be bored out of your mind at dinner. But if you actually want to sit through an agonizing, uncomfortable evening with my parents, then that’s fine, you’re more than welcome to come.”

Rezo hesitated.

“Seriously, why would I be embarrassed of you? You’re the kind of guy my parents wish I was: in college, a good student, responsible. In comparison with me, you’re golden.”

Rezo let his backpack slide out of his fingers and back onto the table.

“So, you don’t have a problem with letting them meet me?” Rezo seemed to be having some difficulty with the notion. It was unusual for him to be so dense.

“I don’t know how many more ways I can tell you that.” Oren smiled, trying to put him at ease. “Although I can try an interpretive dance if you think it would help.”

Rezo gave a brief laugh before his smile turned sheepish. “I guess I overreacted then.”

“Just a bit.”

“Sorry.” Rezo rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

“I’ll think of a way for you to make it up to me.” Oren was careful to keep his tone light. “So are you coming?”

“Yeah, sure. I owe you for freaking out about it.”

Oren repressed a sigh. “It’s at seven, but you should be there at a quarter till.”

“Ok, I'll just get as much done here first.” Rezo looked down at his backpack and then back at Oren. “I guess you better go, I did promise Norman I’d send you home.”

Oren nodded and began to repack his art supplies.

“One thing before you go, do I need to bring anything?”

“Like what?” Oren looked up, but Rezo’s expression didn’t make what he meant any more clear.

“Food or wine?”

“Uh, no. We’ll order out for food. So just bring yourself.” Did he think it was a potluck?

“I’ll see you at a quarter till, then.” Rezo smiled but he seemed distracted.

Oren waved before he turned to walk away, careful not to let Rezo see his expression of utter panic.

This was a disaster.

Chapter Eleven

Master List of Chapters