King Geordi the Great Page 10

  “Dad! You and Mom. Out!” I took them each by an arm and practically dragged them toward the living room. “You go relax, watch TV, take a walk together or something. Kitchen cleanup is on me and my boys.”

  “Uh, Mr. and Mrs. Quintrell, I’m not Geordi’s ‘boy’ boy, you know,” Carson was quick to point out. “That would be Toff. I’m just Geordi’s boy. Pal. Bud. No three-way stuff going on here. Because I’m straight. You know. Uh… that doesn’t count against me, right?”

  Yup. Asshole. Class A.

  “Oh wait,” Dad said, pulling away from me. “I have to get a picture of you, Geordi, with your new boyfriend.”

  “Dad, the kitchen—”

  “It’ll only take a second, and then you boys can get to work.” He tugged out his phone and then started motioning for Toff and me to get together in a pose of some sort.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Come on, Geordi.” Toff walked up and got beside me. He took my hand and we stood there smiling. Only Toff’s smile was genuine. Mine felt like a cardboard cutout.

  Dad aimed his camera lens our way. Carson, being as much of a glory hog off the court as he is on the court, couldn’t resist the opportunity to horn in. Just as Dad snapped the picture, Carson bumped me with his hip, knocking me sideways. I stumbled past Toff and barely managed to catch my balance before hitting the wall.

  “Carson!” I would have followed that with some major cussing, but my parents were standing there.

  “Don’t blame me, dude,” Carson said, grinning. “You know you’ve never been able to take a hit.”

  WE WERE watching TV in the living room, Mom, Dad, Toff and me. The kitchen was clean, Carson had gone home, and the sun was setting.

  Jurassic World was playing on the screen. Mom and Dad made the concession in honor of my new relationship status. Rampaging dinosaurs, screaming people, chaos and destruction all around—that’s my kind of movie. But I couldn’t focus on the action. Toff and me. Mom and Dad knew all about that now. If I broke things off with Toff, I’d not only hurt him, I’d hurt my parents too. I felt as if I were sinking in the middle of the ocean with a half-ton weight strapped to my legs.

  “I’m going to have some sherbet,” Mom announced. “Anyone else?”

  “Me,” I said. Maybe that’ll take my mind off my crappy life for a minute.

  “Me too,” said Toff.

  “Make that four,” said Dad.

  “Come on, Geordi,” Mom said. “Give me a hand.”

  In the kitchen Mom went for the freezer and I went to the cabinet for bowls.

  “Honey, what’s going on with Toff?”

  The question sent a trill of anxiety through me. I had to tread carefully here. “What do you mean?”

  “Something’s off with him. I can’t put my finger on it. He’s always seemed a little sad to me. But now he’s… lost. Or something.” She brought the carton of sherbet to the counter where I’d set out the bowls. “Has he told you anything?”

  In that I’d asked Toff repeatedly about his dad without getting any real answer, I could answer Mom truthfully. “No.”

  “Well, he won’t talk to me. I’m sure he’d be more comfortable with you. See if you can get him to open up, honey. If something’s wrong and there’s anything I can do to help him, I certainly will.”

  I was as worried about Toff as Mom was, and I didn’t bother trying to hide it. “Okay, Mom. I will.”

  “GOOD NIGHT, Mom, Dad.”

  “Yeah, good night.”

  “Good night boys. Sleep well.”

  Toff and I walked down the hall to my room. We both stopped short. “Hey, Dad, you didn’t put the air mattress down on the floor.”

  “That’s because Toff is sleeping in the guest room.”

  I looked up the hall at Mom and Dad, puzzled. “He always sleeps on the air mattress in my room when he stays over.”

  “Well, honey,” said Mom, “you don’t seriously think we’ll let you boys sleep together in the same room now that you’re boyfriends. Do you?”

  “But Toff and I aren’t having sex.”

  Mom smirked. “Exactly.”

  Chapter 9

  THE NEXT day, Toff didn’t seem to want to go home.

  We ate Pop-Tarts for breakfast and lunch and in-between snacks. We played a couple of games of H-O-R-S-E in the driveway, binged on some episodes of The Walking Dead, and skinny-dipped in the pool.

  I’m still amazed Toff and I got into that last one. I wasn’t exactly for it at first.

  “It’ll be fun,” he said.

  “Me naked in public is no fun.”

  “This isn’t public. It’s your backyard. Nobody else is here.”

  “You’re here.”

  Toff got this sober look on his face, almost like he’d done something wrong and wanted to make up for it. “Okay, I get it, Geordi. You’re self-conscious, you think you’re the opposite of hot. And I don’t want you doing anything you’re not ready for. But dude, you are totally wrong about your body. I think you look good, in and out of clothes. I notice the way you hold back sometimes when we’re making out, and I get that too. I’m ready for sex but you’re not, and I’m cool with that. You don’t have to worry because I will never push you. When you’re comfortable being naked with me, when you’re ready, I’m all there.”

  Okay. Points for sincerity, for understanding my body shame, and for not pressing on the whole let’s-get-nekkid-and-sex-it-up thing. Also, it didn’t hurt that he’d said I was sexy. What with the way he’d grabbed me after our first date, and the way he was looking at me now, I actually started thinking that maybe I was, in some sense of the word, hot. “Thanks, man.” I smiled at him. Then I stared. At his chest. At his legs. Toff was hot as hell in clothes. And if he was that exciting dressed….

  Hmm.

  Nah, it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to get naked while I kept my clothes on. “So, you really want me to skinny-dip with you, huh?”

  “Only if you want to, Geordi.”

  “We promised my parents we wouldn’t have sex if they left us here alone today.”

  “Who said anything about sex? We’ll just be swimming.”

  “Only swimming?”

  He raised his right hand as if he were on the witness stand in some courtroom. “Swear to God.”

  In a giddy, excited rush, I started stripping down in my backyard. Toff was caught completely flat-footed. He just stood there at first with that I-can’t-believe-my-eyes expression on his face. Then he started tearing off his clothes.

  Oh. Uh. Yes.

  I’d never seen Toff naked before, and I have to admit, it was a pleasant treat and a literal eye-opener. The sight of his strong, pale bare body made it very hard—in every sense of the word—to keep the promise I’d made to my parents before they left home this morning. It was a definite look-but-don’t-touch situation. I had to jump in the water to take things down a notch. We swam, we chased each other around the deck in a duel of water bazookas, and I loosened up enough to where I was having a pretty good time. The whole episode made me feel closer to Toff than ever. There was something about intentionally sharing myself with him in a way I’d never done with anyone else. It was exquisite, being naked with him.

  Then the theme from Star Wars intruded. I retrieved my cell phone from the pocket of my discarded jeans and saw the name “Bernard Caple” on the caller ID. What the hell? I’d called the Caples’ house a few times to tell them I was bringing over misdelivered mail or that their garbage bin had blown over in their backyard, but they’d never called me before. I thumbed the Talk icon. “Hello.”

  It was Mrs. Caple on the line. “Just so you know,” she said without preamble, “I can see you boys from my bedroom window.” Then she laughed and disconnected.

  Eek.

  There was a privacy fence around the backyard, lined with thick hedges to boot. Who knew my elderly neighbor had x-ray vision? Oh wait. Dag. Maybe her bedroom is upstairs, and she can see over the fence.

  �
��Geordi?” Toff looked at me closely. “Who was that?”

  “Mrs. Caple.”

  “Who?”

  “Mrs. Caple. You know her, the neighbor who lives behind me. I hide in her tree sometimes. She’s like, in her seventies. She called to say she can see us.”

  “You mean… now? She can see us naked?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh. Well, I guess we’re giving her a thrill, huh?”

  “Toff, she laughed when she told me.”

  “Laughed?”

  “Laughed.”

  “I think I’m ready to go inside now.”

  “I think I’m ready to crawl under my bed and die.”

  AROUND MIDAFTERNOON, in my room, Toff was surfing comic book sites on my iPad while I hunched over my phone, texting with Jake. So far, Toff hadn’t said anything about going home, and he hadn’t checked for messages from his dad. I didn’t have the first clue on how to get him to open up.

  ButchJake: Need to c u.

  LaForge: Y?

  ButchJake: Got stuff to talk about.

  LaForge: Text.

  ButchJake: No. Talk. Face 2 face. I’m outside your house.

  I sat up like a dog at attention.

  LaForge: NOW?

  ButchJake: Yes now.

  LaForge: Somebody drove u?

  ButchJake: Took Mom’s car, drove myself.

  LaForge: WTF?

  ButchJake: No license, no permit. Go 2 jail if caught.

  LaForge: U r crazy!

  ButchJake: Really need to c u. Can I come in and talk?

  LaForge: Not a good time. Friend is here. What up?

  ButchJake: Really confused 2day. Want so bad to do stuff with a guy.

  My heart skipped.

  LaForge: Maybe u should go ahead, try it.

  ButchJake: Who with?

  LaForge: ???

  ButchJake: U got a gay friend 4 me?

  I didn’t know a single gay dude aside from Toff, and I wasn’t about to share him. Not that he wanted to be shared.

  LaForge: Sorry no.

  ButchJake: OK. Maybe we can talk another time?

  LaForge: Another time 4 sure.

  ButchJake: Going now.

  I listened. Outside, a car engine churned to life, the sound muffled by the walls of the house. The sound receded and faded out. When I tossed my phone aside, I noticed Toff watching me. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “You look like you’re angry or something. Kinda sad.”

  “No, I’m okay. Come on. Let’s go to your house.”

  Toff sighed and looked away. “I don’t want to.”

  “You have to go home eventually. Might as well be now.”

  “Why? Can’t we just hang out some more, you and me?”

  “Come on, man. Grab your backpack and let’s go.”

  We walked the distance to Toff’s house in silence. As I expected, his father’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Toff tossed his backpack on the porch and sat down on the steps. He leaned forward, forearms braced across his knees, staring at his feet.

  I stood in front of him. “Where’s your dad, Toff?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Being back at his house seemed to change him. The shell he’d put on at my place fell away. Fear surfaced in his eyes, so sudden and strong it made his face go pale. Panic was only a few heartbeats away. He put his hand over his mouth as if to smother a scream.

  My own panicky feelings started up, a frantic flutter in my stomach. I sat down beside Toff and put my arm around his shoulders. “What is it, man? Please tell me. If you really want me for a boyfriend, you can’t shut me out. Tell me what’s going on with your dad.”

  Toff squeezed his eyes tight, his hand still over his mouth. After a moment, he pulled his hand away and opened his eyes. “He left me,” he said in a quiet voice.

  “What?”

  “My dad left me. I checked his room yesterday. All his clothes and stuff are gone. He must’ve had them packed in the trunk that morning he said he was going off to fish. He kept emergency cash in a fake can in the kitchen cabinet. I checked it and the can is empty. He took all the money.”

  “Wait. I don’t get it. You’re saying he went off on some kinda trip? When’s he coming back?”

  “He’s not coming back, Geordi.”

  A single tear spilled from Toff’s left eye and ran down his cheek.

  THE AIR was still and hot. The sun beat down full strength, unhindered by any clouds. Toff started shaking, and even when I wrapped both arms tight around him, I couldn’t make it stop. I dug his key from his pocket, got him up, and took him inside.

  His skin felt strange, cold and damp. “Here, lie down.” I guided him to the sofa. He lay down on his back. Then he turned on his side and curled into a trembling ball. I went to his room, grabbed the comforter off his bed, and covered him up to his neck. Was he in shock? What do you do for a person who’s in shock?

  Several moments later he stopped shaking. He stared straight ahead, looking completely exhausted.

  I knelt on the floor in front of the sofa and put my hand on his shoulder. “Toff, are you okay?” I asked softly. “You want me to get you something?”

  He shook his head.

  “Why do you think your dad’s not coming back? People get stressed, especially adults. Sometimes they just need to get away for a while. You know, to readjust and all. You said yourself that your dad’s taken off before, and he always came back.”

  Toff looked at me, his eyes hollow with anxiety. “All his stuff is gone, Geordi. All the stuff that matters, anyway. He’s never done that before, taken everything with him. At that construction company where he works, three days off the job without calling in automatically gets you fired and replaced. It’s been three days now, and Dad never called in. I checked that too.”

  “Do you have any idea where he’s gone? Any friends he might shack up with?”

  “No, no.”

  “What about relatives?”

  “The only relatives I know of are on my mom’s side. Dad cut off all contact with them after Mom died. Or maybe they cut off contact with us. I don’t know.”

  “Well, you know any of their names, or how to get in touch with them?”

  “No.”

  Shit. “Your dad doesn’t have any friends? A fishing buddy? A girlfriend?”

  “If he does, he never told me about them.”

  Well, I was fresh out of ideas. “Toff, we have to do something.”

  “I don’t want to tell your parents—”

  “My mom already suspects there’s a problem, and she’s not just gonna let this go. She wants to help you. You know how she is, how she can see through a lie.”

  “What if she wants to call the police?”

  “Maybe we should call the police. Maybe your dad is somewhere hurt, and that’s why he hasn’t gotten in touch.”

  Toff looked like he wanted to cry again. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I want to do.”

  “You have to do something, Toff. The situation sure as hell isn’t gonna get any better by itself.”

  He sniffed, falling silent for a moment while he apparently ran options through his head. “Maybe… maybe I can just stay here for a while. Not say anything to anybody. Give myself a chance to figure out what to do.”

  “How’s that supposed to work? You said your dad took all the money. How will you buy food and pay the gas, electric, and water bills? If you can’t pay the rent or mortgage or whatever, you’ll get kicked out.” I immediately regretted saying that because Toff sat up with a frightened groan, his lips trembling. “Okay. We don’t have to do anything right now. You’re right. We need to take some time and figure out what our first move should be.”

  “Don’t tell your parents yet, please, Geordi. All right? If we have to, we can always tell them later.”

  “What about Jess? Is it okay if I tell her? She’s pretty good at think
ing up ideas in a pinch.”

  “Yeah, that’s okay. You can tell her. But nobody else.”

  Great, Toff. That’ll make it easier to deal. “Listen. I have to go check on something. Will you be okay here by yourself for a while?”

  “I can come with you.”

  “No. You look wasted. Why don’t you just chill? I won’t be gone long.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To your dad’s job. I’m gonna ask around to see if anyone there knows anything about where he’s gone.”

  Toff stood up. “I’m definitely coming with you.”

  WE TOOK the bus that traveled the Poplar Avenue corridor. The main office of Magnum Home Builders was in a professional plaza a few blocks past East Parkway.

  Toff looked pale and tired as we exited the bus and made our way across the parking lot. “Let me do the talking,” he said with unusual firmness. I wasn’t about to argue.

  We pushed through double glass doors into the cool-air comfort of a sprawling, open-floor office. Five big desks surrounded by overstuffed chairs were spaced around the room. There was a sales associate seated behind each of those stations, and at two stations, the associates were actively engaged with customers seated across from them. At the front of the room, across from the main entrance, a smaller, sleeker desk held sway with a smiling guy receptionist in his early twenties who eyed us eagerly as we entered. “Hi there. What can I do for you fellas?”

  Toff put on a smile, but even looking at him in profile, I could see the pain beneath it. “Hi, I’m Sandor Toffler, Gerald Toffler’s son. This is my friend Geordi.”

  The receptionist stood up and leaned over the desk to shake hands with us both. I liked him already. “Nice to meet you, Sandor, Geordi. You boys look like you got cooked out there. Want some water?”

  “That’d be great,” I said quickly, afraid Toff would turn down the offer. My mouth and throat felt as if they were lined with sand. “Thanks.”

  The guy walked over to a fancy-looking upright cooler in the corner to our left, opened the door, and collected two frosty bottles of water. He walked back and handed them to us. “Here you go. Now what brings you in today?”