“Jordan is fucking psycho!”The words erupted from him.“He’s not even twenty, and he’s hot, and he’s got all these guys just waiting to bend him over, and all he wants to do is play house with Tip!”
“Holy shit,” I said.“He said no too, didn’t he?”Rory set his jaw, but he still wouldn’t look me in the eye.“That’s all right.He’ll tell me.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.It would have been fun, all right?We could have had this nice, easy thing, the three of us.We could go out.We could find somebody to hook up with.Or, if we didn’t want to, we could fuck around here.It’s not a big fucking deal.It’s not complicated.But those two acted like a pair of fucking promise-ring virgins.”His voice rose, getting scratchier with each word.“Tip laughed at me!”
I bet, I thought, watching Rory’s rapid breaths, the dark circles in his cheeks, the way his pupils dilated.Aloud, I said, “And Tip wasn’t ever going to have anything to do with you after he found out about you and Eddie.”
Rory seemed frozen for a moment.Then he slid off the bed.He grabbed his tank and yanked it on, saying, “Yeah.You figured it out.Can you go now?”
“And then he got hurt.His face was all fucked up.He and Jordan were falling apart.You thought that was finally your chance.”
“Bro.”Rory gave me a flustered look, one hand absently trying to fix his hair.“I wasn’t obsessed with him.”
“I don’t know if you were or not.I’ll be curious what Jordan has to say.But I know you couldn’t stand having him say no to you.Especially not after.I bet you told yourself you felt sorry for him.I mean, he was never going to be pretty the way he had been.Guys weren’t going to be interested in him.You might have even thought it was a pity fuck.You were doing him a favor.”
Rory put a hand to his throat.He sounded like he was on the verge of hyperventilating.
“And he said no again,” I said.“Didn’t he?”
The boy stared back at me.His eyes were glassy.
“Didn’t he?”I asked again.
With a little shake, like he was stirring himself from a dream or a memory, Rory said numbly, “He laughed at me.Again.He had that—that bandage over his eye, and he laughed at me.He said I was pathetic.Him, with his face like that.His own boyfriend couldn’t even stand to look at him.And he said I was pathetic.”
He stopped, but the sharp sound of his uneven breaths filled the bedroom.
“What did you do?”I asked.
Rory shook his head—a tiny, almost invisible gesture.But it was there.
“What did you do, Rory?”
He shook his head again.A tear spilled from one eye, but he didn’t seem to notice.He whispered, “I was so mad.”
“What did you do to Tip?”
Another tear spilled.Rory jolted.He brought one hand up to wipe it away, and he stared at me, his expression bewildered and accusing and even hurt.As though somehow I’d tricked him.
“You need to come with me,” I said.“We’re going to drive over to the sheriff’s station.”
It took him a few seconds before he said, “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.And you’re going to tell them what happened.”
But he shook his head again.
“Here’s the other option,” I said.“I call them, and they come over here.I’ll tell them what I know.And they’ll take you in for questioning.They’ll also search your apartment.And I think they’re going to have some more questions for you once Jordan confirms that a knife is missing from your kitchen.”
“You can’t—” Rory took a step back.“What knife?”And then, voice growing firmer, he said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I could feel it slipping away from me.There was a moment in interviews when everything was balanced, all the fear and guilt and shame and the human need to talk.A tipping point.And we had passed it; I could see in Rory’s eyes the armor going back up, the resolve, the lies that he told himself.It was an accident.It was Tip’s fault, really.Even if I called the sheriff’s department, what did I have to show them?A photograph that meant nothing?A stupid competition between two college boys?Even that comment about a knife had been a bluff; Jordan might confirm that one was missing—if they tracked him down, and if he talked—but until they found it and matched blood and prints, it didn’t mean anything.
“I want you to leave,” Rory said.He backed into the kitchen, hands held in front of him like he thought I might charge.“You need to leave right now.”
“Rory, you’re making a mistake,” I said.“It’s going to be so much worse if we do it this way.You’re not a bad person; I know that.You can come in.You can explain it was an accident.Tell your side of things before it gets out of hand.”
The fear was bright in his eyes.I thought, maybe, I had him.
