“Totally. Anyway, time to get you geared up for winter.” He motioned to Winners, and they crossed the street.
This day was about helping Jeremy—he didn’t need to hear about Max’s angst and the idea about going to teachers college instead of law school. Even thinking the words teachers college made him antsy with shame. As he led the way into the store and an explosion of holiday sparkle, the voice he’d been working so hard to silence hissed.
I can’t disappoint my mom.
Time for Max to focus on his fairy godfather mission. He slung an arm over Jeremy’s shoulders, enjoying the snug fit. “Winter is coming, and you may not have to deal with dragons, but windchill is worse.”
“Dragons?” Jeremy’s ginger brows met.
“Sorry, random Game of Thrones moment.”
“Oh! Duh.” Jeremy grimaced. “I’m so stupid sometimes.”
“Whoa. Ease up on yourself there. It’s cool.” He had a feeling this kid beat himself up over way too much. He nudged Jeremy’s shoulder playfully. “That last season was so bad I wouldn’t blame you for wiping it all from your memory. And you know, I actually wouldn’t mind dragons in winter. At least they breathe fire.”
Jeremy grinned at Max’s dumb joke, and Max steered him to the wall of hats. More Insta pics coming right up.
Chapter Three
“Good timing! Hey, little bro. How’s it hangin’?” A stocky blond with shaggy hair held up his hand for a clasp-shake.
“Uh, good!” Jeremy said, taking the guy’s hand and trying not to be completely awkward. The porch creaked under their boots. It was just past five o’clock and already dark, colored holiday lights glowing on the porch railings.
“Ty, this is Jeremy,” Max said. “Jeremy, meet Tyler.” He took Tyler’s hand and did a clasp-shake with a lean-in and partial hug.
“How’s your ass?” Tyler asked. “You went down hard.”
“Fine!” Jeremy squeaked. He really wanted people to stop inquiring about the state of his ass.
As Tyler rambled to Max about his fantasy football league, Jeremy followed them inside and peered around curiously. When Max had asked if he minded postponing going to the Village until the next night, Jeremy had agreed eagerly. The idea of actually getting laid was both thrilling and terrifying. This way, he got to spend even more time with Max and could put off the stress of potentially picking up a guy.
He realized picking up someone wasn’t supposed to be stressful, but his brain whirled and stomach churned, and he was only too happy to postpone. Especially since it meant going to Max’s place like they were officially friends or something. Acquaintances at least.
Max’s place was the basement of a house in the Annex, accessed via a locked staircase just inside the foyer. There was another locked door to the main floor. Jeremy took off his new boots at the bottom of the stairs and added them to the collection on a plastic mat.
His new purchase was what Max had called “in-between boots,” for when it was icy or slushy enough not to want to wear running shoes, but not freezing or snowy enough for the big guns. They were brown Blundstone knockoffs made of synthetic leather but surprisingly comfortable. Jeremy actually had a similar pair back home that he stupidly hadn’t thought to bring since he’d planned to buy something suitable for real winter.
Max had insisted he needed both, since you didn’t want to go cruising the bars in clunky boots. The thought of cruising bars in any kind of footwear made Jeremy break out in a cold sweat, but he’d kept that to himself.
He added his new navy peacoat to one of the hooks on the wall already bulging with coats. His rain jacket was inside one of the shopping bags he tucked into the corner, along with a new puffy parka that the tag promised would keep him warm to minus-fifty Celsius. God help him if it ever got that cold, which Max assured him it didn’t in Toronto. Apparently minus-thirty or even minus-forty with the windchill happened a few times a winter, though. Jeremy was already shivering at the thought.
The apartment wasn’t as dark as Jeremy had expected for a basement. There were IKEA standing lamps in every corner of the living room, along with surprisingly big windows near the ceiling that probably let in a fair amount of light during the day. A huge TV was attached to the wall across from a saggy red velour couch, and a square dining table sat off to the side by the entrance to what looked like a narrow galley kitchen.
The walls were painted plain beige and had a few art posters tacked up, also IKEA by the looks of them. He wondered if it was Max or Honey who’d chosen the black-and-white photo of the Brooklyn Bridge. There were no decorations or Christmas tree, but Honey was probably going home for the holidays like Max was.
The flare of hurt as Jeremy thought about his parents and Sean flying to Honolulu for their Christmas cruise stabbed hot in his chest. He’d checked the news earlier to make sure there hadn’t been any plane crashes. So far, so good. Jeremy took a deep breath and locked away all those messy worries. Max was taking a chance inviting him for poker, and he was going to make a good impression.
Even with his slightly blurry old glasses, at least now he could get a good look at Max’s friends. Carrying bright plastic bowls piled high with chips, Honey greeted Jeremy with a bright smile. He was Black, tall, and built like, well, a football player. Mike was big too, chubby with buzzed dark hair and light brown skin.
They crowded around a square dining table that was surely a hand-me-down judging by the nicks and a big stain on the pale wood that had probably been red wine. The basement had wall-to-wall carpet with its fair share of faded stains as well, although the apartment didn’t seem dirty. There were some used glasses sitting on the coffee table by the couch, but it was clean overall. Jeremy wondered what Max’s room looked like but couldn’t exactly go poke around.
He fiddled with the sleeve of a new sweater Max had encouraged him to buy. Max had liked it on him so much that Jeremy had said he was chilly and changed into it in the café bathroom at lunch. It was fuchsia pink, which Jeremy would never have picked for fear of looking too gay. Which he knew was bullshit internalized homophobia, but he still braced for Max’s friends to make some kind of comment. They didn’t, eating chips and talking more fantasy football while Max and Honey served drinks in red plastic cups.
Jeremy wondered what his parents would say if they saw the pink sweater. Also what they’d say when they got the credit card bill, even though he’d mentioned to his mom he had to buy some winter clothes. He’d bought more than he planned, but they wouldn’t be mad, would they? He’d always been responsible with his card, which they’d given him for emergencies and stuff when he turned eighteen.
Even though everything was weird and tense now, they wouldn’t cut him off. Would they? He had some savings from working at an electronics store all through high school, but that wouldn’t last long if his parents stopped paying. He’d have his meal plan for the rest of the school year, but what then? What if—
“You good?” Max asked quietly, nudging Jeremy’s knee under the table with his own.
Nodding automatically, Jeremy picked up his cup and gulped the mix of Jack and Coke that was kind of gross. “Just going over what you taught me about poker.”