Yet a Stranger (The First Quarto #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,55
his movements slow and languid. “Oh yeah? My little bro doesn’t do drugs?”
“Maybe, you know, some weed. I guess.”
Dylan made a noise that could have meant anything.
“I just, um—it’s just not really my thing.”
“It’s molly, bro. It’s not like I’m doing cocaine. People who do this, they do it because it opens up your mind. It’s therapeutic. And it’s a spiritual experience, ok?”
“Right. That’s really cool. I just don’t—I don’t know.”
Dylan stopped moving. Then he slid off Auggie’s lap, landed on the floor, and returned the pill to the plastic case. Auggie watched him.
“Look,” Dylan said, “you’re a sweet kid. It was cool how you thought you had to stand up for me. But I’m looking for someone who’s at the same stage of life, you know? I’m too old for games, and I’m too old for one-night stands. I mean, you’re adorable, but you’ve never even had gin before. Tell you what: let’s find you a nice kid who’ll blow you tonight. I’ll be your wingman.”
“No,” Auggie said.
Dylan rolled his eyes.
“I know who I am,” Auggie said. “I know what I want.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Just because I haven’t had as many experiences as you, that doesn’t make me immature. And it doesn’t mean we’re at different stages. People mature at different rates. I really feel like we connected.” He had planned out a million different versions of this speech, and it was coming out now, words that he thought he’d use another night, another place, another man. “The fact that you’re older just means you get to share things with me that I haven’t tried yet.”
“I really think—”
“I want to suck your cock,” Auggie said. “And then I want you to fuck me.”
“Ok, fine, but it’s weird if only one of us is having a spiritual experience. That’s what sex is about for me, Auggie. It’s about connecting as souls. I don’t just want to ride your pussy and put you away. This is about you and me becoming one.”
“That’s what I want too,” Auggie said. “That’s exactly what I want.” Then, working his jaw, he hesitated. “I’d really like it if you could, you know, help me through it on molly.”
“I don’t want to pressure you.”
“You’re not pressuring me.”
“I don’t want you to do something you’re not comfortable with.”
“I’m not uncomfortable. I can feel how strongly we’re connecting. I want you to guide me through this.” And he couldn’t say, my first time, through my first time, I want you to keep me safe because it’s my first time.
Dylan hesitated. Then he breathed, “God, you are fucking gorgeous. Do you know that?”
“Come over here and tell me again.”
Producing the plastic case again, Dylan climbed onto the bed. He held out the pill.
Auggie’s phone rang.
“Sorry,” Auggie said with a nervous laugh, pulling out his phone to silence it. Theo’s name was flashing on the screen.
Dylan sat back.
Auggie thought of Theo’s face, the horrible attempt at a smile.
Dylan shifted his weight. His hand slid up to Auggie’s dick again.
“I’m sorry,” Auggie said. “I’m really, really sorry, but I’m worried about this friend. Can you just give me a minute?”
“Yeah,” Dylan said, kissing Auggie’s neck. “Of course, little bro.”
“Theo?” Auggie asked. His voice was too high, on the edge of cracking, and he struggled to bring it back down. “What’s up?”
“Can’t.”
His voice was wrong. Too thick. The single syllable was almost unintelligible.
“What can’t stop spinning? Where are you?” Auggie slid off the bed, grateful he still had on his high-tops, and cast about for his wallet and keys. “Theo, I need you to tell me where you are.”
“What’s up?” Dylan said. “Something wrong?”
“Are you in a car?” Auggie said. “Did you get in a car, Theo?”
“In the car,” Theo said in that drowned voice. “Can’t stop spinning.”
Then the line disconnected.
24
When Theo got home from the Sigma Sigma house, his clothes were soaked with sweat. He stripped in the kitchen, the lukewarm air from the window A/C like sandpaper against bare skin. Then he stumbled into the shower. His knee wasn’t hurting, but he had trouble walking, as though his joints had locked up. He ran the water cold and stood under it, letting the spray needle his back.
The gun. And Auggie. His mind came back to those two things again and again. He tried to build out from them: Evans had pulled a gun on Auggie; Auggie could have been killed. But his thoughts kept collapsing into those two irreducible facts.