Chapter Forty-Four – The Sorest Spot
Matty brought John a glass of water and waited patiently while his unexpected guest took it with a guilty expression on his face. Extracting uncomfortable truths out of his former roommate wasn't high on his wishlist, but that was the situation they were in, so that was that.
"Where do I start?" John declared and shook his head as if he couldn't believe he was doing this.
"Start by telling me how you could go back to Connor after he treated you like that."
John took a pendantic sip and then stared at Matty, surprisingly confident all of a sudden. "I know things about Connor. Things he doesn't want anyone to know."
"So you are blackmailing him into being friends with you?" Now that was something worth noting. Whatever it was that John held over Connor, it had to be important; the leader of the Implacables hadn't struck Matty as the forgiving type.
John made a long face. "I wouldn't call it blackmail."
"I would." Matty sat on the other bed, convinced now that John wouldn't take off if he wasn't guarded from up close. "Why do you even want to be friends with Connor? He's pretty shady."
John waved. "Oh, we're not friends. But he cannot shake me off now. I believe in him, and he's going to see it one day."
It was Matty's turn to shake his head. "I don't think that is going to happen, John. Connor's the type of guy who only cares about being number one."
"So's the case with your special friend. Rusty Parker." John threw the name at him with the same disgust as before.
Matty pursed his lips. That wasn't true. He was about to argue, when John began talking again.
"At least you have Rybalt as another option. He might be gay." An all-knowing nod followed.
Ah, well. No point in ruining the desire for self-delusion running so strong in this one. "Okay, we're digressing here. We were talking about you and Connor."
"Right." John took another sip. "The things is, Connor needs to get this Rybalt out of the way, so he thought of beating him at his own game."
"Is he going to try his hand at singing opera?"
John's brow wrinkled like a sheet. "No, tonight, he was going to unmask Rybalt. And I, you."
"Are you sure about that?" Matty had had to abandon his cat claws but made a show of turning his hand into a very close impersonation of them while giving John a withering look.
His guest made himself little. "Are you going to beat me up if I do?"
Matty huffed. "Seriously, I'm starting to worry about you. Do you have a kink for getting floored in one kick? Because I think I already apologized for it plenty. Okay, let me talk to you like we're both human beings."
John nodded eagerly. "Not cat and superhero."
Not what he meant. Matty continued after letting out a sigh. "I can't stop you from telling the world I'm Slicky Coolplums. But I'd appreciate it a lot if you didn't."
John waited for a bit. "Is that all? Aren't you going to frighten me? Blackmail me?"
"If you're going to add 'hit me' to that, I'm kicking you out and you can supervise yourself for the night while sleeping in the hallway."
John took the threat at face value. "Okay. I won't tell anyone it was you."
Matty would have liked to press the matter more, but he needed to hit the iron while it was still hot. "So, back to your silly little plans with Connor. What would this unmasking do? What does your leader hope to achieve with it?"
"Come on, Matty, you're smart. Once Connor unmasks this so-called hero, people will see that he's nothing but a clown. And they'll get back to what's important, like studying, and leading pure lives."
"Pure lives? John, my dude, are you even hearing yourself?" Matty leaned forward. "Come on, spit it all out. That can't be everything."
John's eyes darted sideways as if he was trying to find a way out. So, Matty thought, that had to be it; Connor had some evil plan up his sleeve, and John was trying to protect that ugly child.
"Well, you know how Rybalt is disturbing the peace," John said slowly.
"The peace. What peace? World peace?"
"No." John scowled. "The peace on campus. And we need to stand united to have a chance."
"A chance against what? The zombie apocalypse? All right, all right, I'm listening."
John pursed his lips and appeared to debate with himself whether it was a good idea to share everything he knew with Matty or not. Before needing a bit of encouragement on that front, he began speaking. "Once he has Rybalt's real identity, Connor can go to the dean with it. Also, to the authorities." The last word came out very softly, as if not even the person speaking it was sure about how valid that would be.
"Authorities? Really? Like reporting him to the police? On what grounds?"
"Connor intends to collect evidence that what Rybalt does is breaking the law."
"He's not breaking any law," Matty said through his teeth.
John gave him an odd look and then smiled. "You like Rybalt, Matty. More than you do your special friend Rusty Parker."
"I assure you. I like them both exactly the same. Come on, spit it all out. What kind of law breaking is Connor thinking about?"
"Vandalism, for starters." John leaned forward and whispered. "And he's thinking of luring him into doing more than that. Connor believes that he could make the guy hit him, because he looks like someone with a short temper."
"Bad idea," Matty said promptly. "Wait. I hit you. Are you going to report me to the police?"
"Of course not," John replied and had the nerve to look wounded.
"Good to know. And what if he cannot convince Rybalt to give him a fat lip? What then?"
John shrugged. "That part, with the actual police, even he admits is a stretch. But Connor thinks that he can turn Rybalt into persona non grata with the dean and everyone else on campus. Because, let's face it, Matty, at this point, Rybalt is fooling everyone. And people don't like being fooled. That's the plan." As if he had just gotten a big weight off his chest, John sighed deeply and then leaned back, his hands crossed over his belly. He looked like a man happy to have gotten over the biggest trial in his life. Now, it was out of his hands.
And transferred to Matty. "Seriously, John, what's up with Connor? What dirt do you have on him?"
John averted his eyes. "That's something I can't tell you. You could hurt Connor with it. Even if you promise you won't… I just can't risk it."
"Why are you on his side, again?" Matty tried to catch John's eyes but it was futile. "John, really."
"I… I just think he needs me."
"It doesn't look like that to me. You could do better."
John scoffed. "Easy for you to say while you rock that body in your cat boy suit."
Matty frowned. "I do work for this body, and you know that. It's not simply a gift from the heavens above."
"You say that, but you're beautiful and you don't care." John crossed his arms and pouted.
"Connor is a scumbag. Stop deflecting and making it about me. Ditch the asshole, John. He's going to drag you down. For the life of me, I can't imagine what you see in him."
"He means well," John said, but the seeds of doubt were already taking root in his mind, if the traces of hesitation in his voice revealed anything.
"He only means well for himself. He likes being adored. Don't you find it odd that he has no actual friends?"
"He had friends, but then… you know what happened last year," John said pointedly.
"Yeah. His so-called friends tried to publicly shame Jonathan. I do remember very well."
"Are you on first-name basis with Jonathan Hamilton?" John gave him a look full of envy and longing.
"Yeah, because I'm friends with Jonathan. He's an awesome person, you know? He didn't deserve that crap from Connor's friends."
"Sure, but people like Jonathan have everything, and it's not fair."
"Or maybe you just don't know everything. He's had his fair share of problems. All last year, he had to work to support himself in college. And his GPA was still the best in the entire school."
John didn't seem too moved by Jonathan's trials and tribulations. Matty could tell when he was dealing with people who had their minds made up about something. Also, it wasn't his goal here to turn his former roommate's mind around about everything. It could very well be a losing battle. What he needed was to make sure that John understood that Connor was a major creep and staying by his side wouldn't bode well for him in the future. Another thing was more selfish, since he didn't want to be outed as the cat boy on other people's terms. Not when he was having so much fun fooling around with Rusty-slash-Rybalt.
As if he could read his thoughts, John started talking again. "I won't tell a soul that you're Slicky Coolplums."
"Connor is going to ask you what happened since he put you up to it."
John shrugged. "I'm going to lie."
"He suspects me anyway, right?" Matty gave John a long look.
"Yeah." John shifted uncomfortably in his place. "But he agreed that we would need to be sure before talking out loud about it. I'll just send him a message that I got sick to my stomach and rushed to my former dorm room, where I found you sleeping. That should absolve you of any suspicion."
"I'm not so sure about that, but okay."
John stretched out on his former bed. "Can I sleep here tonight, Matty? I don't feel like going back to Connor just yet."
"Okay. It's your room, too, until the end of the year, anyway."
John turned on his side to face the wall. "Do you really think I could do better than Connor, Matty? He's pretty handsome."
"Handsome doesn't mean squat with a rotten personality like his. You could find someone kinder."
"Okay." John sniffled for good measure. "What did you think of my Nightwing costume?"
"Pretty neat," Matty said. He wasn't going to nitpick about that of all things.
"Okay. Thanks for letting me sleep here. And the other stuff."
"Don't sweat it. Sleep tight. But if you feel anything weird, just wake me up. I hit you pretty hard."
"Actually, I think it's good that you did. We had a chance to talk."
"Yeah." How much good that did, they'd have to wait and see.
***
O. M. G., Connor dear, it looks like you've lost the plot completely! Accusing Rusty Parker of being Rybalt, our new beloved leader… Come on, we all know that our former royal figure could not sing if his life depended on it. That only goes to show that you'd pick on anything just to get ahead. And what do you even expect to obtain with such accusations? Even if it were true… which obviously it is not, it wouldn't endear you to the masses.
The prince of cats won last night's battle, boys and girls of Sunny Hill! And yes, if you haven't got it by now, we do have a new king, and his name is Rybalt!
As for Connor Williams, let's put this in words you can understand… Booo, booo, booo!
That wasn't surprising at all. Rusty wished he could have been a fly on the wall when Connor had dished his heart out to Xpress, probably via direct message on their site, about the real identity of the prince of cats. He even loved it that now Xpress called him that as well, due to his main rival's detractions.
That guy must have been so mad. Rusty couldn't stop grinning just imagining it. The only thing that had thrown a wrench into his plans to take over Sunny Hill was not having his muse by his side. It didn't matter; they'd have other chances.
He felt his face turning into a grimace when he checked his phone. His mom had called again. She seemed to be in one of her usual down spells, when she needed to talk to him. This was the third time she had called, and it was starting to wear him out. She wasn't saying much, actually, just letting long silences stretch between them, and she remembered something she wanted to talk about only when he tried to bring the conversation to a conclusion.
"Hi, mom," he said, picking up the phone.
"Rusty, when are you coming home?" She sounded agitated, not exactly her usual self.
"Not too soon. I mean, I'm not planning to. I'm busy with school and all that."
"Don't give me that. You've never cared much for school. That was your dad's idea, that you should go to college."
Rusty considered his next words carefully. When she talked to him, she always tried to guilt him into something, and the main villain in that story had to be his dad, one way or another. While he held his own grudges about how Roy had chosen to leave them behind and build a different life and family for himself, he was mad enough at his mom for not even trying to make things work in his dad's absence. He hated the guilt trip she always tricked him into; and he didn't plan on hurling that guilt back. It was the least he could do.
She had been the abandoned one, and that had been a card she'd played for a long time now. It was part of their interactions as natural as needing water. "Why did you call me, mom?"
"When are you coming home?" The way she ignored his previous answers to the same question was also one thing she did. Until he gave her what she wanted, she would continue in that vein.
He didn't have time for getting into a battle of wills with her right now. "When do you want me to come home?"
"It's not a matter of what I want."
So untrue. He staved off his growing irritation. "Okay. I'll come this weekend. Is that all right with you?"
"Yes. But I must warn you, Rusty. I'm not in my best shape. That doctor keeps changing my medication."
In hope of finding a combination that would truly work for her, without a doubt. After so many years, and being an adult now, Rusty suspected his mom of not wanting to feel better. The therapists she'd seen throughout her life had tried all sorts of things to make her life more bearable. While it had to be true that his mom's chronic condition couldn't be cured, a part of him just couldn't let him side with her forever and unconditionally. He also had a hunch that she did all that because the costs came out of her ex-husband's pocket. She was punishing his dad, but why did she have to punish him now, making him feel guilty about not going home as often as she wanted? He was just there, while Roy hadn't been.
An entire weekend with his mom. He wasn't sure he wanted to face her alone. "Can I bring a friend?"
"Yes, of course you can." She seemed happy with the suggestion. A third person might act as a buffer between them and stop any attempt at a guilt trip. Also, his mom loved visitors. When it was just him visiting, she soured quickly, but if a stranger was there, it took her longer to find other people's presence unbearable.
That was what he was counting on. "That's great, mom. We'll be there." He waited for a moment before asking. "You do get out, right? You don't spend all your days at home?"
"Yes, I do. Although people are so busy these days. Mrs. Kingsley comes over once every few days, as you know she does. I'm not a hermit."
That was another thing that irked him, his mom's refusal to get close to anyone. Maddox's mom was a real saint to put up with his mom's moods, but, after all this time, she still called her Mrs. Kingsley, not Florence or, god forbid, Flo.
"Do you want me to bring you anything?"
"No, you don't have to. I can bake something. Does your friend have any allergies?"
Rusty was pretty sure his mom wouldn't bake anything if it killed her. "Yeah, some," he lied. "We'll bring all the food we need, just to be safe," he said.
As expected, his mom seemed relieved. "Of course. You can never be too careful."
After the conversation ended, Rusty felt his good mood failing to return. He hadn't seen his mom in a while, and maybe that was where the guilt he felt came from. Well, he'd do his duty as a good son, the weekend to come. That should settle that matter for a while.
One other thing he had learned while watching his mom wallowing in her misery as if she were addicted to it was that getting in a good mood was doable if you put in the work. Smile even when you didn't feel like it, laugh just to push everything negative out of the way, find pleasure in the silliest things. He was an expert in the field.
Nowadays, it was a lot easier. All he had to do was call.
***
Matty felt relieved when he saw the caller ID. Rusty had been incommunicado after the interview fiasco, and he was trying to bide his time before calling himself. There would be veiled questions, without a doubt, but unless Rusty wanted to call it quits on their game, they wouldn't be asked directly.
"Hey," he said as soon as he heard the familiar voice at the other end.
"Do you like ice cream, Matty?"
"Who doesn't?"
"Some people. People who aren't my friends, obviously," he said cheerfully. "Let's go, then. My treat."
"Is it far?"
"Maddox let me have the car. So we're set."
"Sure. Doesn't he mind lending it to you?"
Rusty laughed, the sound of that so pleasant to his ear. "Maddie's my brother from a different mother. We share everything."
"Hopefully, not boyfriends." Matty bit his bottom lip. Fuck, he needed to control himself.
"Nope. That's a pretty thick line," Rusty agreed. "Don't get me wrong, that Hamilton is smoking hot, but he's not my type."
"Really?" Matty turned on his belly and swung his feet in the air, feeling as excited as a schoolgirl getting a much-awaited phone call from her crush. Which, in a way, pretty much summed up his situation.
"Nope," Rusty confirmed.
"Yours are cat boys," Matty teased.
"Yeah, but maybe not so much these days." Rusty fell silent, as if he had just caught himself before saying too much.
"Well, I suppose all kinks fade away sooner or later."
"Yeah, probably. For some people. Not in my case."
"Are you jealous he's fooling around with the sexy singer Rybalt?"
"Not much fooling around between them lately, apparently."
"Really? What a shame," Matty chirped happily.
"Let's leave others out of this. I want to eat ice cream with you."
"Sounds like a plan."
Indeed it did. Matty held the phone to his chest and smiled long after his conversation with Rusty was over. He hadn't had the nerve to prod Rusty for his type these days, so to speak, but, in his book, he'd been doing well enough for himself. How many people in the world could say that they had taken a chance with their crushes like he was doing?
Surely, it was more than a crush now. But everything felt just as exciting as it had in the beginning.
***
"You've been staring at my ice cream for the last couple of minutes. Do you want some?"
Rusty accepted the spoon and steadied Matty's hand to enjoy the tasty offering. Wanting to have a sample of what his date was having wasn't the reason why he'd been spacing out for the last few minutes. He looked at Matty, who was smiling at him. He really loved how Matty looked at him. That was a guy who knew nothing of his flaws. Of course, that made things so enjoyable and easy between them. The question that had been on his lips faded away.
"You really like mine, don't you? We can switch." Matty made a move to push his tall ice cream dish to him, but Rusty stopped him.
He moved closer and wrapped one arm around him. "Do you know what would make it taste better?"
"I have a hunch," Matty said and turned to look over his shoulder, "but I believe that we are in a way too public space for it."
"Yeah, you're right. Although I really want to taste it off…" he began while tipping Matty's chin and dropping his eyes at the tantalizing lips parting slightly.
"…your dick."
Those two words were barely mumbled, but Rusty caught them right away. "What?"
Matty's eyes grew wide with alarm. "Sorry, sorry, I just spoke my mind by mistake."
"No mistake there," Rusty said and laughed. "Gawd, Matty, you're so damn kinky, you know that? Just to be clear, do you actually want me to taste it off your dick?"
"No." Matty turned away and snickered. "I was thinking about what I wanted to do to you."
"For the record, I was totally vanilla. I wanted to say 'your lips'."
"For real?" Matty blinked lazily. "That's too romantic for you."
"No way is it too romantic," Rusty protested. "This is an ice cream date, so it's normal for me to say romantic things."
Matty patted him gently on the cheek. "You really say the craziest things sometimes."
"Ice cream isn't crazy."
"A romantic Rusty Parker might be a bit, though."
"Ah," Rusty groaned theatrically, "you really only want me for my body, is that it? Hence your 'mistake'," he air-quoted.
"You got me. Hey, do you have plans for this weekend?"
Rusty straightened up in his place. "I have to go see my mom."
"Oh. Everything fine? You don't look very happy about it."
"Easy to tell, right? Well, it's the kind of thing that's an obligation."
Matty put a hand on his. "Do you want me to come with you?"
No, he didn't want that. He didn't want Matty to see that house left to crumble in on itself, or his mom, who could run hot and cold at the drop of a hat. Just looking at him convinced him of the thing that mattered now more than others; Matty was his happy place now, the guy who knew nothing about all that part of his family drama, and Rusty realized that he wanted to keep it that way. His mom wasn't his dad. She was his sorest spot. "No. It's okay. It's going to be uber boring."
Matty appeared quite disappointed. "I can do boring. I study all day."
"I'm sure you're qualified." He didn't add anything and returned to his ice cream. "You really have to taste this." He pushed the spoon in Matty's face, forcing him to take it only so that he wouldn't speak any more.
Matty smiled. All was brushed over, then. All good.
***
"Look what the cat dragged out," August welcomed him and, unlike her words, her arms were wide open. "I was starting to think that you forgot I was living around here. Although, I do understand. You're a big star now. No time for old acquaintances, right?"
"Yeah, busy as a bee, that's what I am," Rusty said with a forced smile.
August read him right away. "Why the long face? Has anything happened? Don't tell me Matty gave you the boot."
Rusty glared. "Why would you even say that? Matty and I are just awesome."
"I see. Come on in." August made room for him to step into her tiny space. "For the record, I don't mind being your confidante, okay?"
She sat on the sofa by his side, turned toward him with a knowing look in her eyes. "If it isn't Matty, what's going on? The stardom getting to you already? Feeling purposeless? A fraud?"
She knew exactly what to say to make him laugh. "I'm never purposeless," he said while slapping her knee, "what the hell? Nah, it's just that I have to visit my mom this weekend, and it feels like such a drag."
"Your mom. She can be a lot from what you've told me. So, why don't you take Matty with you? He could keep you distracted."
Rusty grimaced. "I don't know. He offered, but I don't want him to meet her."
August inspected him with keen eyes. "You know, Rusty, this might come as a great shock to you, but people don't have to like your parents to like you. Didn't you take him to your brother's birthday? You had no trouble with him meeting daddy from hell."
"Come on, August. He's a breeze compared to her. At least he tries to act like a regular person. Well, as regular as a douchey dad can be, but still. With mom, I don't even know. I mean, I know it's not her fault, and that it's a condition, but sometimes I feel like she's not even trying."
August's face changed as he spoke. "Well, I guess I know what you mean. It was never easy meeting my friends after… you know. Having to hide my bruises and everything. Pretending everything was fine. I guess we can't change people."
Rusty felt slightly relieved. If there was one person in the world who understood shame in that deep, raw way he did where his mom was concerned, it had to be August. He didn't do heartfelt conversations with other guys, unless he really had to. And he just preferred to be the one listening, anyway. That had to be it.
"So," he began, "what do I have to do to convince you to come with me and serve as my human shield?"
August sighed. "I still think you should take Matty. Don't you want him to know you? Warts and all, as they say."
"Fuck no." He intended to let that out in a joking tone, but it ended up sounding exactly like he felt on the inside. "Well, if you don't want to come with me--"
"I'll come with you. I know how hard it can be to face people you love but don't like."
Rusty pursed his lips. "I don't even know why you're doing this for me. It's not like I helped you when you needed it."
August surprised him by caressing his head in a motherly manner, which was quite apropos seeing what he was asking of her. "You helped me more than you can imagine. Your words back then, even if they hurt me, they stayed with me. I mean, I was just hooking up with you and didn't expect to have a few horrible truths thrown back at me. But there you were, this guy younger than me, trying to get me to see things for what they were." She shifted in her place for a moment. "When you're caught up in a bad relationship, but you still love the person, it's easy to find justifications for everything. You know, to think that you might be the problem."
"I have no idea what to say to that." There was a reason why he avoided heart-to-heart conversations like this. Dealing with the truth was never easy.
"I'm coming with you. And I'm going to be your shield."
"I was joking about that. She's going to be happy to have visitors, so I'm betting on her forgetting to be mad at me for simply existing for at least the time we're there. Also, no need to invest too much in physical defense. She weighs like a hundred and twenty, sopping wet." He was trying to laugh it off, to steer the conversation away from hurtful truths.
August's hand was now on his shoulder. "Not all abuse is physical, Rusty. Sometimes, a word spoken the wrong way, if it's repeated often enough, if it aims to hurt, well, it's going to reach its goal."
"Yeah," he said and took a deep breath, "yeah."
"How are things with Matty?" August changed the subject, much to his relief.
"Great, just swell. We went to get ice cream the other day."
"You took him out on a date. How nice. I'm happy to see that you're growing up, Rusty."
"It was an ice cream date." Making those important clarifications was mandatory.
"Yes, a date, like I said."
"Why are you insisting on this? It's not like I said it wasn't a date." August could be a little annoying, needling like an old lady trying to get everything out of everybody for lack of anything better to do.
"I'm letting you discover it all by yourself. It's going to be so funny when you finally see it. I just hope Matty's in for the long haul with you because, Rusty, for real, you're a ton of work. Fun and cool and exciting, but a ton of work."
"He totally is. He agreed to remain friends after college."
August snorted and got up to get herself a cup of coffee. She leaned against the counter and raised the cup as a salute. "Your Matty is a saint. That's good. It means that he'll teach you how to worship him properly."
"That's so kinky, August. I do worship his ass, though."
"Yeah," August said with an all-knowing grin, while placing her cup back on the counter, "totally what I meant."
TBC