3-bah-dee
More-of-more. :D
Title: So You Think You Can Tell (Pt. 3)
Pairing: Casey/OMC, C/Z (past)
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: Secret meetings and snow days.
With the wind-chill factor turning the cold of the season into what felt like daggers, thousands of them all hitting Frank’s face, he had a very Zeke-like statement pop into his head. Fuck February. He jogged toward the Dunkin’ Donuts ahead as quick as he could to find escape from it all. In seeing the GTO in the lot, however, braving the weather was more than worth it.
A huge breath of relief escaped Frank once in the restaurant. It was both warm and quiet, not many patrons at all. He made his way to the main counter, eyes scanning the tables and booths; there at the end, nearest to the restrooms, Zeke sat, nursing a cup of hot coffee. Frank nodded up at him. “Gonna grab a cup,” he called. Zeke smiled and sat back to wait.
Having a quick serving girl, Frank’s simple order of a medium coffee, cream, no sugar was filled, purchased then brought over to the booth Zeke sat at. “Christ, that cold…” Frank said in a gruff voice.
“Maybe I’ll make that trip to the bayou a little earlier…” Zeke said after a long sip.
“So…” Mr. Connor shed his coat off, removed his hat and ruffled his hair a little. “I didn’t have to wait for the ‘steamroll’ announcement, huh?”
“Fuck, no,” Zeke said with a scoff.
“Good. Now you know, I wasn’t kidding around.”
Zeke nodded then shook his head a little. “Gotta say, I was a bit… back-and-forth on the issue for a while. Like-obvious putz, from the get-go. But I didn’t wanna jump the gun.”
“What finally convinced you?” Frank said, his smirk growing.
“Hmm, dunno. Might have to do with him scolding your goddamned wife over her soup. That kickass soup,” Zeke, with all the sarcasm he could muster, said. “Pour on with the sugar, as much as she can stuff into that dish, I say. Only means I get thirds or fourths when I’m by.”
“Hah, and believe me… if she has her way, you’ll be joining us at the dinner table every friggin’ night. Or better, helping her MAKE dinner,” Frank replied.
“Huh?”
“She came up with her own ‘Project Jeremy-Be-Gone’. If you wanna come by to eat AND take cooking lessons a few times a week, you’re welcome to it.”
Zeke’s face melted into a look of incredulous amusement. “Gotta say, I’ve never felt so loved in my life ‘til now,” he said.
Frank’s smile went warm-and a little shy. “Yeah, well… like I said last night. The whole ‘don’t know what ya got ‘til it’s gone’ thing,” he said. He took another big gulp of coffee, welcoming the heat it introduced to his throat and belly. “So I’m really, really not just being the ‘dickish dad’ with Jeremy cos’ he’s the new guy, right?”
“Nope. He’s not the anti-Christ, not… evil. Just…” Zeke paused, rolling his eyes. “It only got worse, up in Casey’s room.”
“Oh yeah? How so?”
Zeke groaned and crossed his arms over the table. “Casey went to put a couple shirts away in his closet, apologizing for his supposed ‘messy room’. But Jeremy was more about teasing what was IN the closet. Now, okay-we’re being honest here, right?”
“Right?”
“So if you don’t mind my saying, the way I liked Casey? Is Casey.” Zeke tapped the table with his fingers, rapping it quick and light as he looked off to the side. “I LIKE that boy in his geeky plaids and baggy, cheap jeans. He’s basic, no frills. Most of all, he’s happy that way. I loved that about ‘im. He never cared what kinda date we’d go on, whether it was ‘Chez Riche’ or drive-thru. He’s humble.”
“Yeah,” Frank murmured. He swelled with pride, getting Casey’s ‘nice, simple guy’ status confirmed, from Zeke. “He’s a good kid.”
“For Jer there, though? ‘I keep telling you, I have SO many barely-wore Armani sweaters that would make you beautiful, boy!’” Zeke mocked a snotty tone, adding a scrunched up nose and exaggerated snide grin. “And when I said that Casey’s style was fine by me? God. I dunno if I should even tell you…”
“Naw, can’t do that… spill it,” Frank said.
“Ugh, he said-and I quote-‘well hon, he’s not YOUR project anymore; he’s mine.’”
Frank stilled. Burning up enough to head back outside for a few hours without a stitch on him, he asked, “And what did Casey have to say about that?”
“Obviously embarrassed. He laughed it off, saying Jeremy was being ‘too particular’ again. But Jeremy wasn’t done, nope; he told Casey that the next time they went to that… club, the thing, whatever they did, the other night? His getting dressed to the designer-nines was going to be a requirement,” Zeke explained. “He made out like he was being funny, all winking and smiling. But I know he meant it. So yeah, Mr. C.; that snob-nosed prick doesn’t want Casey, he wants a Stepford Wife.”
“God.” Frank shivered, visibly. “What the hell does Casey see in him, though? Why can’t he see what we’re talking about?”
“I actually got the chance to ask, when Jeremy took a bathroom-break. I didn’t come out and say it like, ‘what’s with that dickhead?’ however tempted,” Zeke said. “I just said that the guy seemed out of Casey’s league, with everything he was about. Not that Casey wasn’t good enough, of course, made THAT clear. He just shrugged and said, ‘I dunno, I like him,’ and said he’d learned a lot from the guy at their photo meets and stuff, how they could go out together for hours out at the lake, woods, whatever else, to just snap pictures together. That… well, that was probably meant for me…”
Frank frowned. “What do you mean?”
Looking a little bashful, Zeke sighed. He uncrossed his arms and stretched them out, running his wrists over the table a little. “Some afternoons, we’d take a drive out to-wherever, for him to fill a few rolls of film, usually nature shot stuff. I always liked the park. While he’d snap-snap away the day, I’d feed ducks or bomb-around on swings, whatever. But when we’d be out in the wilderness… I’m just not that kinda guy. I get… bored,” he said. “We’d compromise a little. I’d tell him we’d go, but only for a little while. Two hours, tops, stuff like that. But every time my watch alarm would go off and I’d say ‘let’s motor’, he’d be in the middle of some complicated shot he’d been setting up that whole two hours to begin with. So I’d give, most of the time, but I’d always tack on a little grief for him to complain MORE about. It’s not what drove us into breaking-up. But it didn’t help shit, I’m sure.”
“That’s not very fair,” Frank said, frowning. Zeke glanced to him and made a one-shouldered shrug.
“I know, but-like I said, I’d get bored and wanna-“
“Not YOU, Zeke. That wasn’t fair of Casey.” The man interrupted to clarify. As Zeke sat quietly, blinking profusely, Frank shook his head. “I get that it’s his hobby, and maybe wanted you along to spend time together. But… photography isn’t necessarily a ‘group activity’, unless the other person’s way into the craft as well.”
“I know. So-that’s what he gets outta being with Jeremy. It’s their ‘thing’,” Zeke said. “I can’t blame him, that much, anyway.”
“I can,” Frank gruffly replied, even rolling his eyes as he sipped away. Zeke cocked an eyebrow and scratched the back of his head.
“Still. I’m a little stuck. Do I wanna steamroll this guy outta the picture? Sure. I just dunno if I should,” he said. “Even if I, or WE, managed to get that prick packing, how bad would it look if Casey found out about all this plotting and shit? Dunno if I could get back together with him under these weird-assed circumstances. No offense, I mean…” He paused to chuckle and widen his grin. “It IS fun. Right up my alley, getting all scheme-y, and with his friggin DAD, to boot. But… the art of clean hands. I’d lose that.”
As much as Frank didn’t want Zeke to have these doubts, it at least showed his character. He had a conscience, despite Frank’s views when it came to Zeke throughout the time he’d known him. “Well, I’m not gonna force this, or anything. I could luck and he’d see Jeremy for the snotty troll he IS… but I’d love to speed the process along. God, I just keep imagining that guy one day calling me… Dad,” he said with obvious revulsion, making Zeke chuckle.
“This is his second boyfriend. Highly doubt they’re itching for Congress to finally pass a ‘yes’ to gay-marriage bill, or whatever,” Zeke replied. “Casey’s smart. He’s checking out his options. Whatever.”
“So, you wanna bail? Or…?”
Zeke sighed and looked thoughtful for a moment, until… “No. But… as much as I love your wife’s cooking, I won’t be coming by every night, or anything,” he said. “And if we DO keep this up, I mean-how?”
“Well…” Frank also stopped to think a moment. When it came to Zeke, getting him back on Casey’s mind-what would be the linchpin, allowing that to become more and more possible? It started coming to him, slowly. As he spoke, he leaned forward, staring at the table, “So you came by tonight. We all got the ‘contrast’ of you, the ex, and… Jer. And with me, fuck, sitting with you right now, DOING this, hah… maybe if I showed that I wasn’t all about locking you outta the house anymore, Casey would feel… safer? I guess?”
“Hah, so what, are you gonna go home and demand he take me back and kick Jeremy to the curb?” Zeke said, grinning.
“No, no, no. Just… plant a few seeds. Quietly. As much as I wanna be a bull in a china shop, I can play ‘subtle’, if it’s worth it. It’s gonna be more of a challenge getting Meredith to chill out, obviously,” Frank said. Zeke chuckled heartily.
“Now HER, I’ve never doubted her mom-love she’d give me. She’s a hoot, love the woman,” he said.
“I know. Step off, boy.”
“I ain’t no threat, no threat…”
As they chuckled together and sipped away, Frank sat back and reflected more on their dinner. “Yeah, actually… almost forgot. What was the deal with you snapping your head and neck around? Felt like every time you did it, Casey wanted to run off into the night screaming…”
“Oh. Oh, that, ye-e-eah…” Zeke’s chuckling became more guffawing as he relaxed in his seat. “Again, we’re being honest. So that thing? Consider me a tricky little dick.”
“Huh? How so?”
“Being honest?”
“Yes?”
“For whatever weird, weird reason… your son always thought my doing that was something that made me stupid-hot,” Zeke said. “Like, he’d get… you’re his father, so let’s just stop there.”
“Oh. God. That… explains it, then. Shit…” Frank oddly found himself chortling now, instead of feeling like crawling under the table to wither away and die. “Yeah, Zeke, you’re a tricky little dick, indeed.”
“Mmm, got me there,” Zeke said, pointing lazily at the man as he brought his drink up for one last big gulp. With his cup emptied, he slid over the seat to its end and began getting his coat on. He didn’t stand up yet, however, choosing to continue on, “I think I’ll take a page outta your book; we’re cool with each other, me and him. I’ll… talk to him about stuff. Hell, if I feel comfortable enough, I’ll rag on his guy ‘til he can’t stop himself from laughing his ass off and saying, ‘I know, right?’”
“Mmm, could work,” Frank said. He gave Zeke a deep, warm look. “But… I wonder what you telling him, ‘I miss you’ would do. Might save us ALL time and trouble.”
Another ‘got me there’ expression formed on Zeke’s face. Frank’s words had meant something to the young man; Zeke gnawed at his lower lip a moment before dropping his eyes. “We’ll… see.”
“Mmm’k,” Frank said. He, too, gathered his clothes to get ready for the bitter cold outside. Once bundled up, they tossed their cups in the trash, made their way to the door and met the chill again. “Ugh, freezing…” Frank muttered with frustration.
“Nice to commiserate again, Mr. C. I’ll text you tomorrow during lunch at school, let you know if anything interesting goes down,” Zeke said, flipping his keys around in his hand and smiling impishly. Before they parted ways, Frank gave a few friendly slaps to the boy’s arm.
“You do that. Thanks for tonight!” He left Zeke with a smile and took the last few yards to the car in a quick jog. Though it was cold and the car’s heater needed a tune-up, a warmth had grown in Frank’s insides enough to keep him comfortable.
~*~
“Phew!”
Meredith looked up from the episode of ‘Law & Order’ she was watching to Frank, who was still shivering despite the heat blasting from the furnace downstairs. “It’s a cold one,” she said.
“Damned right. Jer’s car’s gone, he go home?” he asked.
“Oh-yeah. Left about a half an hour ago,” Meredith said. “Casey’s upstairs, working on some homework.”
“Cool. I’m gonna fix some tea or something…”
“Your brother called, by the way.”
Frank stopped dead in his tracks; half-hidden by the archway, he swallowed. ‘I’ve got two brothers. Both in town. Both call me. Dear god, please be…’ “Alan?” he asked as he turned slowly to face her, hoping he didn’t look as nervous as he felt.
“Fred. Wanted to know if you’d come help him with those kitchen cabinets,” Meredith said. She raised her half-filled wine glass to her lips, slowly, eyes set on Frank’s face. Her next words echoed into the glass, “I told him I had no idea where you’d gone off to, but that I’d let you know he called, whenever you got back. From where. You came from.”
With every passing moment, Frank’s life was starting to feel like it was being dictated from a sitcom’s script. What next? The infamous Kramer busting through the door, laugh track and applause exploding all around? There was only one way to avoid any ridiculous, unneeded disasters; with a long, drawn-out sigh, Frank went over to the other end of the couch, sat down and faced her. “I guess now it’s time for that ‘later’ I gave you before, in the kitchen,” he said.
“That’d be nice,” Meredith said.
“There’s one rule I got, though. You breathe a word to Casey about this, and I’ll text Zeke to tell him he’s never to cross our threshold again.”
The woman pulled a face and drew her head back, staring at Frank as if he were a stranger. “Um-what?”
“You aren’t the only one who’s been plotting and scheming. It’s been how long since Zeke’s been by, and suddenly, five minutes after Casey and that little moron get home, he just shows the hell up with some random book of Casey’s?” he rambled in a low, muttered tone. Meredith’s face stayed blank as she began shaking her head slowly from side-to-side.
“I… didn’t plan that, I haven’t talked… oh. OH. Oh…” The midsentence realization made Meredith hop a little in her seat, wine sloshing dangerously to the lip of her glass. She whipped her head to the stairs, as if checking to be sure their son hadn’t sneaked down to overhear them then turned back to Frank in a shot. “But, how?? When did you--how?”
After a shaky, mirthful sigh, Frank laid out the details; from his secret meet-up with Zeke at the bar to ten minutes before now, he gave his wife every bit and piece of information, discussion and plotting he and Zeke had come up with. The whole time, Meredith’s jaw lowered more and more, the corners of her lips curling up and making her look like a crazed, joyous child. By the end of Frank’s storytelling, he expected the woman to leap into his lap and show her thanks in giving him one hell of a night upstairs. Instead, she leaned forward and began slapping his arms, over and over again.
“Why didn’t you TELL me, you… you…!”
“Mer! Sh-SHH!” Frank hissed and chuckled at the same time, backing away a little. “Geez!”
“With all the ideas I’ve had, all the plans I’ve been trying to come up with, and you-you’re sitting there WITH that boy, scheming him into the house and everything?” Though she sounded frantic with annoyance, her smile was only getting wider.
“What’s the joke of the house, whenever there’s a secret, a surprise party being planned? ‘Don’t tell Mom’… or ‘Get the duct tape to keep Mom’s mouth shut,’” he teased.
“I wouldn’t have said anything!” she said, adding a few more smacks.
“Stop, ow… NO, I know, but for god’s sake, Mer, Zeke thought I had told you and texted while he was here to tell me you had to tone it down! That’s how obvious you were starting to look,” Frank said.
Pouting, Meredith drew back and said, “So I was excited he was here, and wanted to KEEP him here. So what?”
“So-o-o… you gotta be more subtle, is all. Not act like you’re about to call a construction crew to come by and redo the attic into Zeke’s new loft apartment,” Frank said, now chortling.
“Now that’s an idea…” Meredith said, gone coy and devious in expression and smile.
“Knowing you, you’d put cameras in his friggin’ shower…”
Frank couldn’t blame her for coming at him again, this time putting her glass down to use both hands. He scrambled off the couch but she followed, all the way into the kitchen. “Hey… hey, let u-up!” he said, loudly guffawing now as Meredith, wild-eyed but giggling herself, went for his sides. Wiggling fingers found the worst of his ‘tickle spots’, making him quake and grab for her hands. “No-NO-n-no, STOP th-that…!”
“Get a room. Ew.”
Both of them turned to find Casey, changed into a pair of pajama pants and plain white t-shirt for the night, standing in the doorway with a scrunched-up nose and smirk. “We have a room, boy. It’s called ‘mortgage payments’,” Frank said, now wrapping his arms around Meredith to draw her in close. The woman’s smile was so wide and tight, he felt it through his shirt.
“Wanna keep YOUR room, little man?” she added.
“You’re such dorks,” Casey said, but his face melted into an amused smile. He went to the fridge and got a bottle of soda out. “So, Mom-I was wondering. Should I expect Dad to get any divorce papers soon?”
“Um… what? Repeat that?” she said, still smiling but with plenty of warning in her voice.
“Just sayin’, it’s gonna be weird switching from ‘my ex, Zeke’ to ‘my stepdaddy, Zeke’ when friends come by, that’s all.”
Frank made a loud snort of amusement as Meredith raised her eyebrows. While Casey hummed out chuckles and filled his glass with Sprite, she moved away from Frank and crossed her arms. “When he talks about my cooking the way he does, helps drag box after box to the van on our flea-trips? I may just start inviting him around any. Time. I want. So nyah.”
“Oh yeah, that’s all it is…” Casey said, smirking and giggling. He put the soda back, took a sip from his glass and nodded to Frank. “Dad might have a few things to say about that.”
“What, Zeke coming by?” Frank said. He shrugged and put on a pensive look. “Actually, he ain’t that bad a guy. It was nice to get a visit from ‘im.”
Casey blinked furiously, stuck in mid-sip now. After a moment or two of staring at his father with a confused expression, the glass lowered for him to reply, “You barely said three words to him today. I expected that-not ‘what a nice visit’.”
“Well, if you want me to hate him…”
“You did. Like, up until ten seconds ago…?”
“I think he still likes you,” Meredith suddenly spat out, even bopping her hips slowly from side-to-side.
“Wha-Zeke, me? Oh, come on…” Casey spluttered, adding a few pfft’s and tshh-shh’s to emote his disbelief. “We’re friends. JUST friends. That’s a miracle in and of itself.”
“Wrong. So-o-o wrong…” Meredith all but sang. She leaned forward with a wild smile to say, “Casey and Ezekiel, sittin’ in a tree… K-I-S-S-“
“I’m-with-Jer,” Casey finished for her, his smile dimming a little. “Remember?”
“Pfft, details,” Meredith said.
“I… yeah, I’m… going to bed…” Casey said. Though he didn’t look angry, he was definitely saying, ‘I’m done with this weird crap’ in his turning away, shaking his head and grumbling.
Meredith simply hummed, calling, “Sleep tight, sweetie!”, getting an indecipherable, teenaged-tone groaning in reply.
After some footfalls sounding off from the stairs made Frank feel safe enough, he nudged her with his elbow, saying, “Tone it down, Mer…”
“What? I was just… teasing,” she said.
“I know. But we can’t make anything look too-suspicious,” he said.
The woman sighed, shook her head then looked to him. For a moment, she seemed to be fighting for something to say; her face suddenly melted into a big grin. “Since when are you a cheerleader for Zeke, anyway? Not that I’m complaining…”
“Eh… realized his worth, meeting the new guy,” he said.
“Mmm. Well then, maybe I’m a little grateful Casey brought the little jerkoff home.”
Before Frank could chortle over his wife’s choice of words, she stepped forward, tilted her head up and gave him a soft, slow kiss. It was finally time for his reward, one he was going to sit back, relax and enjoy.
~*~
All doors had been closed-at least Zeke had thought they’d been. He’d gone through the usual breakup woes, feelings and process, where he had to tear down then rebuild a few things in his social structure. For someone who’d been so closed-off for years upon years, it’d been just as hard in the beginning of his relationship with Casey to give up his defenses and trust someone else and share his life. It’d been worth it, even if it’d ended five months later when they’d hit a wall that refused to come down and let them continue on with each other. Zeke could have gone back to being cold, bitter and alone, experiencing that upheaval. But he somehow held onto what he’d gotten from being with the boy enough to apply it all around, instead of flicking that switch and going back into the dark. With or without Casey still being with him, he’d learned.
He’d call Stan to hang out, and even if he’d feel like a third wheel those times Stokely would come along, they weren’t the type of couple to start randomly making out in front of him. Sometimes when they’d go whether for a quick bite or to the park, Stokely would go so far as to nudge him and point out a boy that looked his ‘type’. “Never know…?” she’d said in a playful, teasing voice while nodding toward the shirtless young man, whacking a tennis ball against the solo-wall near the courts. He was cute-but so was the girl who showed up less than a minute later, twirling her own tennis racket as she skipped over, kissed his cheek and led him off to a vacant court for their tennis date. Stokely had blushed while Zeke shook his head and chuckled.
“Do now,” he’d said.
There’d even been a surprise afternoon out with Delilah, however accidental. On the way to his favorite smoke shop, he’d seen her bright red Neon on the side of the road, hood up with the poor stranded girl standing over it with the car’s manual open in her hand. Even if they weren’t all that buddy-buddy, like hell he’d honk, wave and go on his way. The road WAS busy enough to create a special, full-page ‘In Memorium’ in their yearbook, so he’d pulled into the plaza a small way’s down, jogged over and helped her out in pushing the car to safety while she steered. The next hour was spent trying to fix the problem, finally concluding that it’d take a few hundred rolls of tape to fix the broken coolant hose, and her having a Triple-A membership was a good thing. “I can still run down to Auto-Zone and save you a mechanic’s fee?” he’d said over their Chinese food dinner, spent in the plaza while waiting for Greg’s Towing Service. She’d chuckled, said he’d done enough and that her ‘main man’ was the best in town.
When everything was taken care of, he’d expected to just bring her home and go on his way. Instead, she went with him to the smoke shop, then to the grocery store, all the way to his place once she heard he’d gotten the newest Nintendo set-up that past weekend. More expectations had been squashed when she’d kicked his ass in Mario Kart three times in a row, all while gorging on her veggie chips and bottled water-cheese curls and Mountain Dew being Zeke’s menu. It’d been a damned good afternoon.
All of that social interaction, with Zeke’s willingness to bother with it in the first place, stemmed from that one young man who’d broken down Zeke’s thorny, prickly defenses. The young man who, despite mending fences enough to remain friends, hadn’t bothered with maintaining that friendship much at all since stoking it. Zeke’s only comfort was the fact that every time he’d hang out with those three friends, they always asked the same questions…
“How’s Casey?”…”I called him the other night, but he said he couldn’t stay on the phone…”…”You seen him lately?”…”Who’s the guy he’s dating? I heard he went to some private school or something, you know about him?” Zeke wasn’t the only one left wondering what Casey had been up to. It was obvious as to why-and understandable. Having a new guy in his life meant that Casey was going to dive headfirst and not come up for air for a while, enjoying his ‘something new’. It was common knowledge, friendships sometimes taking a bit of a hit when a person kicked-off a brand spanking new relationship. Zeke had shrugged it off… until going to the Connors for dinner.
In the present, Zeke was rifling around in his locker, slow and listless. He lifted his eyes up every now and again to gaze down the hall, where Casey’s locker was. The boy had been there a moment ago, loading up his messenger bag with books, looking purposeful as always. Zeke had wanted to rush through his own school-prep and jog over, all to start some idle chit-chat-anything to inject himself into Casey’s daily life as much as he could. But Casey had been gone even before Zeke had grabbed his first class’ textbook, zooming off to homeroom. That left lunch as the next time Zeke would be able to snag a shot at him, start random conversation which hopefully led down the right roads, ones he wanted to explore a while… if Casey felt comfortable enough, or stuck around long enough, anyway.
It wasn’t going to be easy. There were too many gray areas, or just plain wrong areas in what Zeke had been up to the last few days. It couldn’t be denied; sneaking off to commiserate with Mr. Connor on their ‘Project Bye-Bye Jeremy’ plans? He shivered, here and now, imagining what would happen if Casey ever found out about it. It was underhanded, and even if it worked-even if Mr. Connor would end up hailing Zeke as his ‘hero’ in getting that snobby little fuck away from his son-who said that’d mean Casey would suddenly gravitate back to Zeke and pick up where they left off?
It wasn’t all about what Zeke would get out of this ‘deal’, he figured. If they didn’t hook back up, oh well--it was worth it enough to get Casey away from a guy who didn’t see the harm in labeling Casey as a ‘project’. Projects implied fixing something wrong, and for Zeke-despite Casey’s moodiness and getting in his own way-Casey was fine the way he fucking was. He didn’t need to hold anyone’s hand to be led around to how that anyone wanted him to be-act, look, sound like, whatever. If Zeke, AND Mr. Connor, somehow managed to wrench those two apart, leaving Casey to move on to someone else who treated him right… oh well. That would be enough.
But having him back would be enough, times a thousand. More than enough. ‘Maybe I SHOULD go with the whole ‘I miss you’ thing…’ he thought as he shut his locker and moseyed on down to his homeroom. Imagining him expressing that was a little terrifying, however; a few walls still stood firm, refusing to be torn down no matter how many times Zeke had brought metaphorical sledgehammers to it.
~*~
“Hey.”
Casey looked up from the book he was reading. The bite he’d taken from his apple was chewed excruciatingly slow as he met Zeke’s gaze. “Hey,” he replied.
“Seat taken?” Zeke asked, nodding to the chair across from Casey. At the boy’s shrug, he smiled and sat down. The loud, buzzing hum of the lunchroom seemed to go down the minute he tore open his Cheetos and began munching away. “You looked too alone,” he said.
“Well…” Casey smirked and tapped the page he was reading.
“Whatcha reading?”
“Johnny Tremain.”
Zeke scoffed. “Worst book ever…”
“I know. Read it back in eighth grade, but-Tate assigned it,” Casey said. “I barely read it way back when, so I’m skimming. Getting familiar enough for his stupid test today.”
“’Glad I don’t have him this year. I did, my freshman year. That was enough.” Zeke stared at Casey’s nodding, eyes still fixed on the text he read. Zeke kept at his snack, wishing he’d grabbed something to drink, as well. When he noticed the juice box sitting in front of Casey, he made a slow grin. The boy was distracted enough to not catch his reaching over and grabbing it, but shot his eyes up when Zeke took the last, lone bit inside, making a loud, hissing gurgle come from the emptied container.
“Hey…!”
“Sorry.”
“Like hell you’re sorry… Zeke, god…”
“How many times have I done that over the year? C’mon, your fault for not being careful enough,” he said, grinning and winking. When Casey rolled his eyes, Zeke clucked his tongue. “Didn’t your parents teach you how to share?”
“’Course they did. They shared their entire fridge with you yesterday, remember?”
Perfect. Zeke didn’t even have to be the one to bring it up. He smiled even wider and said, “And god damn, did I miss it. Your mom’s cooking owns me, always has.”
“Yeah, well… don’t get used to it.” Though Casey was doing his best to sound bitter, the smirk he wore now was encouraging. He returned to the book but kept talking, “Last thing I need is to have to deal with you coming over every night.”
“Aw. That’s mean,” Zeke said.
“No, not ‘mean’, just…” Casey sighed. His attention had been hijacked enough now to leave the stupid book behind. He sat back in his chair, grabbed the unopened bag of Lay’s from his lunch bag then groaned. “Yeah, I really wanna eat salty chips now, with nothing to wash ‘em DOWN with…”
“You had one sip left in that damned thing. Bad planning.”
“Even if it was still half-full, you left enough gross orange Cheeto muck on the straw. Ew…”
Zeke shook his head and stood. “Whattaya want?”
“Huh?”
“I’m offering you a trip to the soda machines. Whattaya want?”
Casey blinked a moment or two before shrugging. “Mmm, a grape soda would be nice. And I’d thank you, if this wasn’t a debt you’re paying off,” he said.
“Yeah, a tiny sip of Hi-C equals a lawsuit. C’mon, come with.”
It was good to see Casey smile, proving to Zeke that he still had enough playful, bad-boy charm to amuse the boy. It made Zeke’s own smile go warm as he gathered his things then set-off with Zeke toward the exit leading down the hall to the array of vending machines, humming and glowing near the band room. Besides a few people sitting on the cushioned seating areas lining the windows snacking together, it was quiet and chill; perfect ‘let’s have a talk’ environment. Now at the soda machine, Zeke pulled a few ones from his pocket. “Grape’s a good choice,” he said. He slipped two bills in and hit the grape Crush option, then stood aside to let Casey grab one for himself. Zeke cracked his open, took a sip then nodded to the snack machine nearby. “Want anything else?”
“Uh… no, I’m good,” Casey replied. To Zeke’s pleasure, he shuffled over to an empty seat by the exit leading to the greenhouse area out back, instead of saying, see ya and returning to the cacophony of the lunch room. As Zeke surveyed his snack choices, Casey began sipping his soda and said, “Mom WAS glad to see you. Too glad.”
“Like I’ve said, she’s one kickass mom.”
“Even my dad was okay with it. Who knows how that was suddenly possible.”
As Zeke’s frosted animal crackers were dropped down to the slot, he feigned a questioning look. “Oh yeah?” he said.
“Yeah.”
“Hmm.” Zeke went over, put the soda down on the wooden space between he and Casey and tore the crackers open. They were put down between them. “I know how to share, snag away.”
Casey scoffed, smiled and shook his head as he took the offer. “I was kidding about you needing to ‘repay’ me for the stupid sip, but…” he said while tossing a few crackers past his lips.
“Eh, that soup was good. REAL good,” Zeke replied. He turned his head to gaze out the window. The sky was dark with clouds. “Snow’s coming. Hopefully school’s canceled tomorrow.”
“That’d be awesome,” Casey said.
“Can’t friggin’ wait for summer, though. Louisiana, here I come.”
Casey furrowed his brow and stopped chewing to ask, “What? Are you… moving or something?”
Zeke looked back to Casey. Was that concern in his face? Hoping it was, Zeke smirked and shook his head. “N’aw. Just planning a nice long drive to New Orleans for a few weeks,” he said. What looked like relief erased the frown, and Casey nodded.
“Oh. Cool. Sounds like fun… always wanted to see what it was like down there,” he said.
“Eh, you wanna fill the tank a few times and take the wheel when I get tired, hit me up,” Zeke replied.
“Oh. Hah, yeah, well-doubtful.”
“How come? I bet your parents would let you. Hell, you’re eighteen, so?”
“I think Jeremy would have an issue with it. Duh.”
Perfect, perfect, perfect. “What, he’d actually forbid you to go? Like he doesn’t have friends he’d take a trip with without you,” Zeke said.
“You’re more than… like you dunno, c’mon,” Casey said, thankfully chuckling a little. “You’re kinda my ex, Zeke.”
“And we’re friends now. So?”
“Wow. You’re dense,” Casey said, chuckling harder.
“Fine, then. We’ll ALL go. I’ll drive the goat down, and you and Jer can gas up the Leer and we’ll pick a meet-up spot. Bet I’d beat you guys there, too,” Zeke said, making Casey outright chortle.
“He doesn’t have a jet, Zeke…”
“Pfft, with the way he went on? What’s the issue? He chose two yachts instead of one?”
Though Casey remained smiling, he cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. “Y’know, you’re a spoiled trust-fund baby with parental-unit issues, too,” he said.
“And how many times did I take you on a Gucci shopping spree? Zero,” Zeke replied.
“He hasn’t-he’s only offering me what he has already and doesn’t use. Like this.”
Zeke dropped his gaze down to the bag Casey patted. He hadn’t noticed the change from his old, battered-but-sturdy Kmart number to this one; sure enough, a brassy metal plate reading Prada was there on the flap, near the edge between the shiny clasps. “So he’s already converting you. Shit,” Zeke said with a note of dread in his voice.
“He’s not ‘converting’ me. My last bag was almost falling apart, a real cheap piece of crap,” Casey said. He stared down at his ‘acquirement’ and shrugged. “It’s not like I’m ransacking his closets, even if he offers. That’d take weeks. Two walk-ins worth of hand-me-downs requires an archaeological team of ten to dig around.”
God. A pit began burning in Zeke’s stomach. “Won’t be long,” he muttered. After another bite and sip, he gave Casey a soft yet firm stare. “Stay the way you are, a’right?”
“Huh?” Casey’s smile dimmed out entirely as he stared back. “What do you mean?”
“Just gonna say it. ‘K?”
“Say what?”
Christ, I miss you. We were good together, baby. REAL good. Jeremy ain’t got shit on me, I know it and you know it. Wanna get this over-with, head out to the lot and confirm what we already know in the goat’s backseat? “You ain’t a ‘project’. To anyone. You’re fine the way you are,” Zeke said instead, holding his gaze to gauge Casey’s reaction. When all the boy did was stare dumbly back, Zeke sighed and looked down at his can of soda, tracing a finger around the lip of it. “I didn’t like that when he said it. Just being honest.”
A moment of silence came between them now, until finally, Casey punched out a breath and started shaking his head. “He just-says stuff like that to be playful. He is a rich kid, has his standards, but… really, Zeke, he likes me for me enough,” he said.
“You sure?”
“Why’s it matter, anyway? We’re just friends now, Zeke. I mean…” Casey rolled his eyes and straightened, turning to look outside. “…Yeah, we could talk more often than we do, even hang out. And if Jeremy WAS that jealous type who tried ‘forbidding’ me from that, I’d tell him where to stick it, okay? Promise.”
“Then why haven’t we hung out more?”
“Be-CAUSE, geez, Zeke,” Casey spat. His smile, however awkward or nervous it seemed, returned. “We dated for five months then broke-up what, a little less than a month ago? It’s gonna be weird here and there. But I do wanna be friends with you. Still care about you.”
“That’s why I’m saying what I’m saying. Cos’ yeah, me too. To you,” Zeke softly replied. Admitting just that was making his fingers quake, hard enough to tuck them under his arms to hide them.
“I know. But-don’t. Don’t worry, I mean. ‘K? Jeremy… he’s a real nice guy. It feels good, being with another photography-geek just as nuts as I am,” Casey said. “We just connect that way.”
It felt like another dig, even if Casey wasn’t meaning it to be. Here was Zeke, someone perfectly content with bringing a disposable camera with him to New Orleans, wondering if something as cold as one lone hobby could’ve kept he and Casey together. He fought it down, knowing he was reading more into things than he needed to, enough to say, “I get it,” and shrug. Perhaps he’d shown his insecurity in his lowered tone and eyes dropping down to stare at his soda again, because Casey blinked furiously and hunched down a little to look at him.
“M’not meaning to say, like-y’know, you were a jerk for not being into photography…”
“Pfft, I know that.”
“Do you?”
Zeke looked back up. Christ, his eyes were still that shade of gorgeous blue, weren’t they? He didn’t doubt that Casey’s lips, looking so damned pink and pliable, could still blitz Zeke’s brain if they were to suddenly land on his again. Realizing that he’d been sitting there, silent and staring long enough to make everything really and truly awkward, he shook his head and set his gaze back on the outside. ‘What the hell did he just say again?’ he panicked in his mind, trying to remember. But with what he saw next, he perked up and muttered, “Hey…”
Casey turned to look as well. A smile spread over his face. “Hey, hey,” he remarked at the sight of snow, falling in waves of large, clumpy bits.
“If this has shown up a few hours ago, maybe we’d have had an early dismissal. Damn it,” Zeke said, chuckling.
“Yeah, but then we wouldn’t have had a good, long chat. Like we’ve needed, right?”
Zeke flicked his eyes back to the boy, who was giving him a knowing grin. So he’d wanted this ‘talk time’, after all? Zeke felt giddy all of a sudden, causing him to make a goofy grin back. “Hey… if we DO have ourselves a more-than-needed day off from this farce…” He motioned lazily around them, scoffing a little, “…Wanna group-up tomorrow with Stan, Stokes and Del at the park tomorrow or something?”
“Yeah. Actually, yeah, we should, huh?” Casey said, equally as cheerful.
“Cool. If this stuff keeps up, it’s a given,” Zeke said. He looked out the window again, getting excited at the sight of the dead grassy floor starting to go white already. Whether it was a sudden need for diplomacy (or to look diplomatic, anyway) or the need to gather more ‘evidence’, he then asked, “Which school does Jer there go to?”
“Oh. Grayson’s Academy, in Ravenna,” Casey replied.
“Well, if they cancel too… and his fancy-pants’ed Audi can handle the drive, see if he wants to come out with us. You’ve hung with his friends, right?”
“Not really. Well, through photo-club, anyway.”
“Then it’s his turn to see how us townies do a snow-day.”
Casey rolled his eyes but smiled. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever, I’ll call. And I think most people, rich or not, like sledding and snowball fights,” he said.
“We’ll lie and say that Herrington snow is made up of Evian, if he gets nervous,” Zeke joked, earning a playful slap to his shoulder.
“C’mon! Knock it off, geez,” Casey said through rampant chuckles.
~*~
Title: So You Think You Can Tell (Pt. 3)
Pairing: Casey/OMC, C/Z (past)
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: Secret meetings and snow days.
With the wind-chill factor turning the cold of the season into what felt like daggers, thousands of them all hitting Frank’s face, he had a very Zeke-like statement pop into his head. Fuck February. He jogged toward the Dunkin’ Donuts ahead as quick as he could to find escape from it all. In seeing the GTO in the lot, however, braving the weather was more than worth it.
A huge breath of relief escaped Frank once in the restaurant. It was both warm and quiet, not many patrons at all. He made his way to the main counter, eyes scanning the tables and booths; there at the end, nearest to the restrooms, Zeke sat, nursing a cup of hot coffee. Frank nodded up at him. “Gonna grab a cup,” he called. Zeke smiled and sat back to wait.
Having a quick serving girl, Frank’s simple order of a medium coffee, cream, no sugar was filled, purchased then brought over to the booth Zeke sat at. “Christ, that cold…” Frank said in a gruff voice.
“Maybe I’ll make that trip to the bayou a little earlier…” Zeke said after a long sip.
“So…” Mr. Connor shed his coat off, removed his hat and ruffled his hair a little. “I didn’t have to wait for the ‘steamroll’ announcement, huh?”
“Fuck, no,” Zeke said with a scoff.
“Good. Now you know, I wasn’t kidding around.”
Zeke nodded then shook his head a little. “Gotta say, I was a bit… back-and-forth on the issue for a while. Like-obvious putz, from the get-go. But I didn’t wanna jump the gun.”
“What finally convinced you?” Frank said, his smirk growing.
“Hmm, dunno. Might have to do with him scolding your goddamned wife over her soup. That kickass soup,” Zeke, with all the sarcasm he could muster, said. “Pour on with the sugar, as much as she can stuff into that dish, I say. Only means I get thirds or fourths when I’m by.”
“Hah, and believe me… if she has her way, you’ll be joining us at the dinner table every friggin’ night. Or better, helping her MAKE dinner,” Frank replied.
“Huh?”
“She came up with her own ‘Project Jeremy-Be-Gone’. If you wanna come by to eat AND take cooking lessons a few times a week, you’re welcome to it.”
Zeke’s face melted into a look of incredulous amusement. “Gotta say, I’ve never felt so loved in my life ‘til now,” he said.
Frank’s smile went warm-and a little shy. “Yeah, well… like I said last night. The whole ‘don’t know what ya got ‘til it’s gone’ thing,” he said. He took another big gulp of coffee, welcoming the heat it introduced to his throat and belly. “So I’m really, really not just being the ‘dickish dad’ with Jeremy cos’ he’s the new guy, right?”
“Nope. He’s not the anti-Christ, not… evil. Just…” Zeke paused, rolling his eyes. “It only got worse, up in Casey’s room.”
“Oh yeah? How so?”
Zeke groaned and crossed his arms over the table. “Casey went to put a couple shirts away in his closet, apologizing for his supposed ‘messy room’. But Jeremy was more about teasing what was IN the closet. Now, okay-we’re being honest here, right?”
“Right?”
“So if you don’t mind my saying, the way I liked Casey? Is Casey.” Zeke tapped the table with his fingers, rapping it quick and light as he looked off to the side. “I LIKE that boy in his geeky plaids and baggy, cheap jeans. He’s basic, no frills. Most of all, he’s happy that way. I loved that about ‘im. He never cared what kinda date we’d go on, whether it was ‘Chez Riche’ or drive-thru. He’s humble.”
“Yeah,” Frank murmured. He swelled with pride, getting Casey’s ‘nice, simple guy’ status confirmed, from Zeke. “He’s a good kid.”
“For Jer there, though? ‘I keep telling you, I have SO many barely-wore Armani sweaters that would make you beautiful, boy!’” Zeke mocked a snotty tone, adding a scrunched up nose and exaggerated snide grin. “And when I said that Casey’s style was fine by me? God. I dunno if I should even tell you…”
“Naw, can’t do that… spill it,” Frank said.
“Ugh, he said-and I quote-‘well hon, he’s not YOUR project anymore; he’s mine.’”
Frank stilled. Burning up enough to head back outside for a few hours without a stitch on him, he asked, “And what did Casey have to say about that?”
“Obviously embarrassed. He laughed it off, saying Jeremy was being ‘too particular’ again. But Jeremy wasn’t done, nope; he told Casey that the next time they went to that… club, the thing, whatever they did, the other night? His getting dressed to the designer-nines was going to be a requirement,” Zeke explained. “He made out like he was being funny, all winking and smiling. But I know he meant it. So yeah, Mr. C.; that snob-nosed prick doesn’t want Casey, he wants a Stepford Wife.”
“God.” Frank shivered, visibly. “What the hell does Casey see in him, though? Why can’t he see what we’re talking about?”
“I actually got the chance to ask, when Jeremy took a bathroom-break. I didn’t come out and say it like, ‘what’s with that dickhead?’ however tempted,” Zeke said. “I just said that the guy seemed out of Casey’s league, with everything he was about. Not that Casey wasn’t good enough, of course, made THAT clear. He just shrugged and said, ‘I dunno, I like him,’ and said he’d learned a lot from the guy at their photo meets and stuff, how they could go out together for hours out at the lake, woods, whatever else, to just snap pictures together. That… well, that was probably meant for me…”
Frank frowned. “What do you mean?”
Looking a little bashful, Zeke sighed. He uncrossed his arms and stretched them out, running his wrists over the table a little. “Some afternoons, we’d take a drive out to-wherever, for him to fill a few rolls of film, usually nature shot stuff. I always liked the park. While he’d snap-snap away the day, I’d feed ducks or bomb-around on swings, whatever. But when we’d be out in the wilderness… I’m just not that kinda guy. I get… bored,” he said. “We’d compromise a little. I’d tell him we’d go, but only for a little while. Two hours, tops, stuff like that. But every time my watch alarm would go off and I’d say ‘let’s motor’, he’d be in the middle of some complicated shot he’d been setting up that whole two hours to begin with. So I’d give, most of the time, but I’d always tack on a little grief for him to complain MORE about. It’s not what drove us into breaking-up. But it didn’t help shit, I’m sure.”
“That’s not very fair,” Frank said, frowning. Zeke glanced to him and made a one-shouldered shrug.
“I know, but-like I said, I’d get bored and wanna-“
“Not YOU, Zeke. That wasn’t fair of Casey.” The man interrupted to clarify. As Zeke sat quietly, blinking profusely, Frank shook his head. “I get that it’s his hobby, and maybe wanted you along to spend time together. But… photography isn’t necessarily a ‘group activity’, unless the other person’s way into the craft as well.”
“I know. So-that’s what he gets outta being with Jeremy. It’s their ‘thing’,” Zeke said. “I can’t blame him, that much, anyway.”
“I can,” Frank gruffly replied, even rolling his eyes as he sipped away. Zeke cocked an eyebrow and scratched the back of his head.
“Still. I’m a little stuck. Do I wanna steamroll this guy outta the picture? Sure. I just dunno if I should,” he said. “Even if I, or WE, managed to get that prick packing, how bad would it look if Casey found out about all this plotting and shit? Dunno if I could get back together with him under these weird-assed circumstances. No offense, I mean…” He paused to chuckle and widen his grin. “It IS fun. Right up my alley, getting all scheme-y, and with his friggin DAD, to boot. But… the art of clean hands. I’d lose that.”
As much as Frank didn’t want Zeke to have these doubts, it at least showed his character. He had a conscience, despite Frank’s views when it came to Zeke throughout the time he’d known him. “Well, I’m not gonna force this, or anything. I could luck and he’d see Jeremy for the snotty troll he IS… but I’d love to speed the process along. God, I just keep imagining that guy one day calling me… Dad,” he said with obvious revulsion, making Zeke chuckle.
“This is his second boyfriend. Highly doubt they’re itching for Congress to finally pass a ‘yes’ to gay-marriage bill, or whatever,” Zeke replied. “Casey’s smart. He’s checking out his options. Whatever.”
“So, you wanna bail? Or…?”
Zeke sighed and looked thoughtful for a moment, until… “No. But… as much as I love your wife’s cooking, I won’t be coming by every night, or anything,” he said. “And if we DO keep this up, I mean-how?”
“Well…” Frank also stopped to think a moment. When it came to Zeke, getting him back on Casey’s mind-what would be the linchpin, allowing that to become more and more possible? It started coming to him, slowly. As he spoke, he leaned forward, staring at the table, “So you came by tonight. We all got the ‘contrast’ of you, the ex, and… Jer. And with me, fuck, sitting with you right now, DOING this, hah… maybe if I showed that I wasn’t all about locking you outta the house anymore, Casey would feel… safer? I guess?”
“Hah, so what, are you gonna go home and demand he take me back and kick Jeremy to the curb?” Zeke said, grinning.
“No, no, no. Just… plant a few seeds. Quietly. As much as I wanna be a bull in a china shop, I can play ‘subtle’, if it’s worth it. It’s gonna be more of a challenge getting Meredith to chill out, obviously,” Frank said. Zeke chuckled heartily.
“Now HER, I’ve never doubted her mom-love she’d give me. She’s a hoot, love the woman,” he said.
“I know. Step off, boy.”
“I ain’t no threat, no threat…”
As they chuckled together and sipped away, Frank sat back and reflected more on their dinner. “Yeah, actually… almost forgot. What was the deal with you snapping your head and neck around? Felt like every time you did it, Casey wanted to run off into the night screaming…”
“Oh. Oh, that, ye-e-eah…” Zeke’s chuckling became more guffawing as he relaxed in his seat. “Again, we’re being honest. So that thing? Consider me a tricky little dick.”
“Huh? How so?”
“Being honest?”
“Yes?”
“For whatever weird, weird reason… your son always thought my doing that was something that made me stupid-hot,” Zeke said. “Like, he’d get… you’re his father, so let’s just stop there.”
“Oh. God. That… explains it, then. Shit…” Frank oddly found himself chortling now, instead of feeling like crawling under the table to wither away and die. “Yeah, Zeke, you’re a tricky little dick, indeed.”
“Mmm, got me there,” Zeke said, pointing lazily at the man as he brought his drink up for one last big gulp. With his cup emptied, he slid over the seat to its end and began getting his coat on. He didn’t stand up yet, however, choosing to continue on, “I think I’ll take a page outta your book; we’re cool with each other, me and him. I’ll… talk to him about stuff. Hell, if I feel comfortable enough, I’ll rag on his guy ‘til he can’t stop himself from laughing his ass off and saying, ‘I know, right?’”
“Mmm, could work,” Frank said. He gave Zeke a deep, warm look. “But… I wonder what you telling him, ‘I miss you’ would do. Might save us ALL time and trouble.”
Another ‘got me there’ expression formed on Zeke’s face. Frank’s words had meant something to the young man; Zeke gnawed at his lower lip a moment before dropping his eyes. “We’ll… see.”
“Mmm’k,” Frank said. He, too, gathered his clothes to get ready for the bitter cold outside. Once bundled up, they tossed their cups in the trash, made their way to the door and met the chill again. “Ugh, freezing…” Frank muttered with frustration.
“Nice to commiserate again, Mr. C. I’ll text you tomorrow during lunch at school, let you know if anything interesting goes down,” Zeke said, flipping his keys around in his hand and smiling impishly. Before they parted ways, Frank gave a few friendly slaps to the boy’s arm.
“You do that. Thanks for tonight!” He left Zeke with a smile and took the last few yards to the car in a quick jog. Though it was cold and the car’s heater needed a tune-up, a warmth had grown in Frank’s insides enough to keep him comfortable.
~*~
“Phew!”
Meredith looked up from the episode of ‘Law & Order’ she was watching to Frank, who was still shivering despite the heat blasting from the furnace downstairs. “It’s a cold one,” she said.
“Damned right. Jer’s car’s gone, he go home?” he asked.
“Oh-yeah. Left about a half an hour ago,” Meredith said. “Casey’s upstairs, working on some homework.”
“Cool. I’m gonna fix some tea or something…”
“Your brother called, by the way.”
Frank stopped dead in his tracks; half-hidden by the archway, he swallowed. ‘I’ve got two brothers. Both in town. Both call me. Dear god, please be…’ “Alan?” he asked as he turned slowly to face her, hoping he didn’t look as nervous as he felt.
“Fred. Wanted to know if you’d come help him with those kitchen cabinets,” Meredith said. She raised her half-filled wine glass to her lips, slowly, eyes set on Frank’s face. Her next words echoed into the glass, “I told him I had no idea where you’d gone off to, but that I’d let you know he called, whenever you got back. From where. You came from.”
With every passing moment, Frank’s life was starting to feel like it was being dictated from a sitcom’s script. What next? The infamous Kramer busting through the door, laugh track and applause exploding all around? There was only one way to avoid any ridiculous, unneeded disasters; with a long, drawn-out sigh, Frank went over to the other end of the couch, sat down and faced her. “I guess now it’s time for that ‘later’ I gave you before, in the kitchen,” he said.
“That’d be nice,” Meredith said.
“There’s one rule I got, though. You breathe a word to Casey about this, and I’ll text Zeke to tell him he’s never to cross our threshold again.”
The woman pulled a face and drew her head back, staring at Frank as if he were a stranger. “Um-what?”
“You aren’t the only one who’s been plotting and scheming. It’s been how long since Zeke’s been by, and suddenly, five minutes after Casey and that little moron get home, he just shows the hell up with some random book of Casey’s?” he rambled in a low, muttered tone. Meredith’s face stayed blank as she began shaking her head slowly from side-to-side.
“I… didn’t plan that, I haven’t talked… oh. OH. Oh…” The midsentence realization made Meredith hop a little in her seat, wine sloshing dangerously to the lip of her glass. She whipped her head to the stairs, as if checking to be sure their son hadn’t sneaked down to overhear them then turned back to Frank in a shot. “But, how?? When did you--how?”
After a shaky, mirthful sigh, Frank laid out the details; from his secret meet-up with Zeke at the bar to ten minutes before now, he gave his wife every bit and piece of information, discussion and plotting he and Zeke had come up with. The whole time, Meredith’s jaw lowered more and more, the corners of her lips curling up and making her look like a crazed, joyous child. By the end of Frank’s storytelling, he expected the woman to leap into his lap and show her thanks in giving him one hell of a night upstairs. Instead, she leaned forward and began slapping his arms, over and over again.
“Why didn’t you TELL me, you… you…!”
“Mer! Sh-SHH!” Frank hissed and chuckled at the same time, backing away a little. “Geez!”
“With all the ideas I’ve had, all the plans I’ve been trying to come up with, and you-you’re sitting there WITH that boy, scheming him into the house and everything?” Though she sounded frantic with annoyance, her smile was only getting wider.
“What’s the joke of the house, whenever there’s a secret, a surprise party being planned? ‘Don’t tell Mom’… or ‘Get the duct tape to keep Mom’s mouth shut,’” he teased.
“I wouldn’t have said anything!” she said, adding a few more smacks.
“Stop, ow… NO, I know, but for god’s sake, Mer, Zeke thought I had told you and texted while he was here to tell me you had to tone it down! That’s how obvious you were starting to look,” Frank said.
Pouting, Meredith drew back and said, “So I was excited he was here, and wanted to KEEP him here. So what?”
“So-o-o… you gotta be more subtle, is all. Not act like you’re about to call a construction crew to come by and redo the attic into Zeke’s new loft apartment,” Frank said, now chortling.
“Now that’s an idea…” Meredith said, gone coy and devious in expression and smile.
“Knowing you, you’d put cameras in his friggin’ shower…”
Frank couldn’t blame her for coming at him again, this time putting her glass down to use both hands. He scrambled off the couch but she followed, all the way into the kitchen. “Hey… hey, let u-up!” he said, loudly guffawing now as Meredith, wild-eyed but giggling herself, went for his sides. Wiggling fingers found the worst of his ‘tickle spots’, making him quake and grab for her hands. “No-NO-n-no, STOP th-that…!”
“Get a room. Ew.”
Both of them turned to find Casey, changed into a pair of pajama pants and plain white t-shirt for the night, standing in the doorway with a scrunched-up nose and smirk. “We have a room, boy. It’s called ‘mortgage payments’,” Frank said, now wrapping his arms around Meredith to draw her in close. The woman’s smile was so wide and tight, he felt it through his shirt.
“Wanna keep YOUR room, little man?” she added.
“You’re such dorks,” Casey said, but his face melted into an amused smile. He went to the fridge and got a bottle of soda out. “So, Mom-I was wondering. Should I expect Dad to get any divorce papers soon?”
“Um… what? Repeat that?” she said, still smiling but with plenty of warning in her voice.
“Just sayin’, it’s gonna be weird switching from ‘my ex, Zeke’ to ‘my stepdaddy, Zeke’ when friends come by, that’s all.”
Frank made a loud snort of amusement as Meredith raised her eyebrows. While Casey hummed out chuckles and filled his glass with Sprite, she moved away from Frank and crossed her arms. “When he talks about my cooking the way he does, helps drag box after box to the van on our flea-trips? I may just start inviting him around any. Time. I want. So nyah.”
“Oh yeah, that’s all it is…” Casey said, smirking and giggling. He put the soda back, took a sip from his glass and nodded to Frank. “Dad might have a few things to say about that.”
“What, Zeke coming by?” Frank said. He shrugged and put on a pensive look. “Actually, he ain’t that bad a guy. It was nice to get a visit from ‘im.”
Casey blinked furiously, stuck in mid-sip now. After a moment or two of staring at his father with a confused expression, the glass lowered for him to reply, “You barely said three words to him today. I expected that-not ‘what a nice visit’.”
“Well, if you want me to hate him…”
“You did. Like, up until ten seconds ago…?”
“I think he still likes you,” Meredith suddenly spat out, even bopping her hips slowly from side-to-side.
“Wha-Zeke, me? Oh, come on…” Casey spluttered, adding a few pfft’s and tshh-shh’s to emote his disbelief. “We’re friends. JUST friends. That’s a miracle in and of itself.”
“Wrong. So-o-o wrong…” Meredith all but sang. She leaned forward with a wild smile to say, “Casey and Ezekiel, sittin’ in a tree… K-I-S-S-“
“I’m-with-Jer,” Casey finished for her, his smile dimming a little. “Remember?”
“Pfft, details,” Meredith said.
“I… yeah, I’m… going to bed…” Casey said. Though he didn’t look angry, he was definitely saying, ‘I’m done with this weird crap’ in his turning away, shaking his head and grumbling.
Meredith simply hummed, calling, “Sleep tight, sweetie!”, getting an indecipherable, teenaged-tone groaning in reply.
After some footfalls sounding off from the stairs made Frank feel safe enough, he nudged her with his elbow, saying, “Tone it down, Mer…”
“What? I was just… teasing,” she said.
“I know. But we can’t make anything look too-suspicious,” he said.
The woman sighed, shook her head then looked to him. For a moment, she seemed to be fighting for something to say; her face suddenly melted into a big grin. “Since when are you a cheerleader for Zeke, anyway? Not that I’m complaining…”
“Eh… realized his worth, meeting the new guy,” he said.
“Mmm. Well then, maybe I’m a little grateful Casey brought the little jerkoff home.”
Before Frank could chortle over his wife’s choice of words, she stepped forward, tilted her head up and gave him a soft, slow kiss. It was finally time for his reward, one he was going to sit back, relax and enjoy.
~*~
All doors had been closed-at least Zeke had thought they’d been. He’d gone through the usual breakup woes, feelings and process, where he had to tear down then rebuild a few things in his social structure. For someone who’d been so closed-off for years upon years, it’d been just as hard in the beginning of his relationship with Casey to give up his defenses and trust someone else and share his life. It’d been worth it, even if it’d ended five months later when they’d hit a wall that refused to come down and let them continue on with each other. Zeke could have gone back to being cold, bitter and alone, experiencing that upheaval. But he somehow held onto what he’d gotten from being with the boy enough to apply it all around, instead of flicking that switch and going back into the dark. With or without Casey still being with him, he’d learned.
He’d call Stan to hang out, and even if he’d feel like a third wheel those times Stokely would come along, they weren’t the type of couple to start randomly making out in front of him. Sometimes when they’d go whether for a quick bite or to the park, Stokely would go so far as to nudge him and point out a boy that looked his ‘type’. “Never know…?” she’d said in a playful, teasing voice while nodding toward the shirtless young man, whacking a tennis ball against the solo-wall near the courts. He was cute-but so was the girl who showed up less than a minute later, twirling her own tennis racket as she skipped over, kissed his cheek and led him off to a vacant court for their tennis date. Stokely had blushed while Zeke shook his head and chuckled.
“Do now,” he’d said.
There’d even been a surprise afternoon out with Delilah, however accidental. On the way to his favorite smoke shop, he’d seen her bright red Neon on the side of the road, hood up with the poor stranded girl standing over it with the car’s manual open in her hand. Even if they weren’t all that buddy-buddy, like hell he’d honk, wave and go on his way. The road WAS busy enough to create a special, full-page ‘In Memorium’ in their yearbook, so he’d pulled into the plaza a small way’s down, jogged over and helped her out in pushing the car to safety while she steered. The next hour was spent trying to fix the problem, finally concluding that it’d take a few hundred rolls of tape to fix the broken coolant hose, and her having a Triple-A membership was a good thing. “I can still run down to Auto-Zone and save you a mechanic’s fee?” he’d said over their Chinese food dinner, spent in the plaza while waiting for Greg’s Towing Service. She’d chuckled, said he’d done enough and that her ‘main man’ was the best in town.
When everything was taken care of, he’d expected to just bring her home and go on his way. Instead, she went with him to the smoke shop, then to the grocery store, all the way to his place once she heard he’d gotten the newest Nintendo set-up that past weekend. More expectations had been squashed when she’d kicked his ass in Mario Kart three times in a row, all while gorging on her veggie chips and bottled water-cheese curls and Mountain Dew being Zeke’s menu. It’d been a damned good afternoon.
All of that social interaction, with Zeke’s willingness to bother with it in the first place, stemmed from that one young man who’d broken down Zeke’s thorny, prickly defenses. The young man who, despite mending fences enough to remain friends, hadn’t bothered with maintaining that friendship much at all since stoking it. Zeke’s only comfort was the fact that every time he’d hang out with those three friends, they always asked the same questions…
“How’s Casey?”…”I called him the other night, but he said he couldn’t stay on the phone…”…”You seen him lately?”…”Who’s the guy he’s dating? I heard he went to some private school or something, you know about him?” Zeke wasn’t the only one left wondering what Casey had been up to. It was obvious as to why-and understandable. Having a new guy in his life meant that Casey was going to dive headfirst and not come up for air for a while, enjoying his ‘something new’. It was common knowledge, friendships sometimes taking a bit of a hit when a person kicked-off a brand spanking new relationship. Zeke had shrugged it off… until going to the Connors for dinner.
In the present, Zeke was rifling around in his locker, slow and listless. He lifted his eyes up every now and again to gaze down the hall, where Casey’s locker was. The boy had been there a moment ago, loading up his messenger bag with books, looking purposeful as always. Zeke had wanted to rush through his own school-prep and jog over, all to start some idle chit-chat-anything to inject himself into Casey’s daily life as much as he could. But Casey had been gone even before Zeke had grabbed his first class’ textbook, zooming off to homeroom. That left lunch as the next time Zeke would be able to snag a shot at him, start random conversation which hopefully led down the right roads, ones he wanted to explore a while… if Casey felt comfortable enough, or stuck around long enough, anyway.
It wasn’t going to be easy. There were too many gray areas, or just plain wrong areas in what Zeke had been up to the last few days. It couldn’t be denied; sneaking off to commiserate with Mr. Connor on their ‘Project Bye-Bye Jeremy’ plans? He shivered, here and now, imagining what would happen if Casey ever found out about it. It was underhanded, and even if it worked-even if Mr. Connor would end up hailing Zeke as his ‘hero’ in getting that snobby little fuck away from his son-who said that’d mean Casey would suddenly gravitate back to Zeke and pick up where they left off?
It wasn’t all about what Zeke would get out of this ‘deal’, he figured. If they didn’t hook back up, oh well--it was worth it enough to get Casey away from a guy who didn’t see the harm in labeling Casey as a ‘project’. Projects implied fixing something wrong, and for Zeke-despite Casey’s moodiness and getting in his own way-Casey was fine the way he fucking was. He didn’t need to hold anyone’s hand to be led around to how that anyone wanted him to be-act, look, sound like, whatever. If Zeke, AND Mr. Connor, somehow managed to wrench those two apart, leaving Casey to move on to someone else who treated him right… oh well. That would be enough.
But having him back would be enough, times a thousand. More than enough. ‘Maybe I SHOULD go with the whole ‘I miss you’ thing…’ he thought as he shut his locker and moseyed on down to his homeroom. Imagining him expressing that was a little terrifying, however; a few walls still stood firm, refusing to be torn down no matter how many times Zeke had brought metaphorical sledgehammers to it.
~*~
“Hey.”
Casey looked up from the book he was reading. The bite he’d taken from his apple was chewed excruciatingly slow as he met Zeke’s gaze. “Hey,” he replied.
“Seat taken?” Zeke asked, nodding to the chair across from Casey. At the boy’s shrug, he smiled and sat down. The loud, buzzing hum of the lunchroom seemed to go down the minute he tore open his Cheetos and began munching away. “You looked too alone,” he said.
“Well…” Casey smirked and tapped the page he was reading.
“Whatcha reading?”
“Johnny Tremain.”
Zeke scoffed. “Worst book ever…”
“I know. Read it back in eighth grade, but-Tate assigned it,” Casey said. “I barely read it way back when, so I’m skimming. Getting familiar enough for his stupid test today.”
“’Glad I don’t have him this year. I did, my freshman year. That was enough.” Zeke stared at Casey’s nodding, eyes still fixed on the text he read. Zeke kept at his snack, wishing he’d grabbed something to drink, as well. When he noticed the juice box sitting in front of Casey, he made a slow grin. The boy was distracted enough to not catch his reaching over and grabbing it, but shot his eyes up when Zeke took the last, lone bit inside, making a loud, hissing gurgle come from the emptied container.
“Hey…!”
“Sorry.”
“Like hell you’re sorry… Zeke, god…”
“How many times have I done that over the year? C’mon, your fault for not being careful enough,” he said, grinning and winking. When Casey rolled his eyes, Zeke clucked his tongue. “Didn’t your parents teach you how to share?”
“’Course they did. They shared their entire fridge with you yesterday, remember?”
Perfect. Zeke didn’t even have to be the one to bring it up. He smiled even wider and said, “And god damn, did I miss it. Your mom’s cooking owns me, always has.”
“Yeah, well… don’t get used to it.” Though Casey was doing his best to sound bitter, the smirk he wore now was encouraging. He returned to the book but kept talking, “Last thing I need is to have to deal with you coming over every night.”
“Aw. That’s mean,” Zeke said.
“No, not ‘mean’, just…” Casey sighed. His attention had been hijacked enough now to leave the stupid book behind. He sat back in his chair, grabbed the unopened bag of Lay’s from his lunch bag then groaned. “Yeah, I really wanna eat salty chips now, with nothing to wash ‘em DOWN with…”
“You had one sip left in that damned thing. Bad planning.”
“Even if it was still half-full, you left enough gross orange Cheeto muck on the straw. Ew…”
Zeke shook his head and stood. “Whattaya want?”
“Huh?”
“I’m offering you a trip to the soda machines. Whattaya want?”
Casey blinked a moment or two before shrugging. “Mmm, a grape soda would be nice. And I’d thank you, if this wasn’t a debt you’re paying off,” he said.
“Yeah, a tiny sip of Hi-C equals a lawsuit. C’mon, come with.”
It was good to see Casey smile, proving to Zeke that he still had enough playful, bad-boy charm to amuse the boy. It made Zeke’s own smile go warm as he gathered his things then set-off with Zeke toward the exit leading down the hall to the array of vending machines, humming and glowing near the band room. Besides a few people sitting on the cushioned seating areas lining the windows snacking together, it was quiet and chill; perfect ‘let’s have a talk’ environment. Now at the soda machine, Zeke pulled a few ones from his pocket. “Grape’s a good choice,” he said. He slipped two bills in and hit the grape Crush option, then stood aside to let Casey grab one for himself. Zeke cracked his open, took a sip then nodded to the snack machine nearby. “Want anything else?”
“Uh… no, I’m good,” Casey replied. To Zeke’s pleasure, he shuffled over to an empty seat by the exit leading to the greenhouse area out back, instead of saying, see ya and returning to the cacophony of the lunch room. As Zeke surveyed his snack choices, Casey began sipping his soda and said, “Mom WAS glad to see you. Too glad.”
“Like I’ve said, she’s one kickass mom.”
“Even my dad was okay with it. Who knows how that was suddenly possible.”
As Zeke’s frosted animal crackers were dropped down to the slot, he feigned a questioning look. “Oh yeah?” he said.
“Yeah.”
“Hmm.” Zeke went over, put the soda down on the wooden space between he and Casey and tore the crackers open. They were put down between them. “I know how to share, snag away.”
Casey scoffed, smiled and shook his head as he took the offer. “I was kidding about you needing to ‘repay’ me for the stupid sip, but…” he said while tossing a few crackers past his lips.
“Eh, that soup was good. REAL good,” Zeke replied. He turned his head to gaze out the window. The sky was dark with clouds. “Snow’s coming. Hopefully school’s canceled tomorrow.”
“That’d be awesome,” Casey said.
“Can’t friggin’ wait for summer, though. Louisiana, here I come.”
Casey furrowed his brow and stopped chewing to ask, “What? Are you… moving or something?”
Zeke looked back to Casey. Was that concern in his face? Hoping it was, Zeke smirked and shook his head. “N’aw. Just planning a nice long drive to New Orleans for a few weeks,” he said. What looked like relief erased the frown, and Casey nodded.
“Oh. Cool. Sounds like fun… always wanted to see what it was like down there,” he said.
“Eh, you wanna fill the tank a few times and take the wheel when I get tired, hit me up,” Zeke replied.
“Oh. Hah, yeah, well-doubtful.”
“How come? I bet your parents would let you. Hell, you’re eighteen, so?”
“I think Jeremy would have an issue with it. Duh.”
Perfect, perfect, perfect. “What, he’d actually forbid you to go? Like he doesn’t have friends he’d take a trip with without you,” Zeke said.
“You’re more than… like you dunno, c’mon,” Casey said, thankfully chuckling a little. “You’re kinda my ex, Zeke.”
“And we’re friends now. So?”
“Wow. You’re dense,” Casey said, chuckling harder.
“Fine, then. We’ll ALL go. I’ll drive the goat down, and you and Jer can gas up the Leer and we’ll pick a meet-up spot. Bet I’d beat you guys there, too,” Zeke said, making Casey outright chortle.
“He doesn’t have a jet, Zeke…”
“Pfft, with the way he went on? What’s the issue? He chose two yachts instead of one?”
Though Casey remained smiling, he cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. “Y’know, you’re a spoiled trust-fund baby with parental-unit issues, too,” he said.
“And how many times did I take you on a Gucci shopping spree? Zero,” Zeke replied.
“He hasn’t-he’s only offering me what he has already and doesn’t use. Like this.”
Zeke dropped his gaze down to the bag Casey patted. He hadn’t noticed the change from his old, battered-but-sturdy Kmart number to this one; sure enough, a brassy metal plate reading Prada was there on the flap, near the edge between the shiny clasps. “So he’s already converting you. Shit,” Zeke said with a note of dread in his voice.
“He’s not ‘converting’ me. My last bag was almost falling apart, a real cheap piece of crap,” Casey said. He stared down at his ‘acquirement’ and shrugged. “It’s not like I’m ransacking his closets, even if he offers. That’d take weeks. Two walk-ins worth of hand-me-downs requires an archaeological team of ten to dig around.”
God. A pit began burning in Zeke’s stomach. “Won’t be long,” he muttered. After another bite and sip, he gave Casey a soft yet firm stare. “Stay the way you are, a’right?”
“Huh?” Casey’s smile dimmed out entirely as he stared back. “What do you mean?”
“Just gonna say it. ‘K?”
“Say what?”
Christ, I miss you. We were good together, baby. REAL good. Jeremy ain’t got shit on me, I know it and you know it. Wanna get this over-with, head out to the lot and confirm what we already know in the goat’s backseat? “You ain’t a ‘project’. To anyone. You’re fine the way you are,” Zeke said instead, holding his gaze to gauge Casey’s reaction. When all the boy did was stare dumbly back, Zeke sighed and looked down at his can of soda, tracing a finger around the lip of it. “I didn’t like that when he said it. Just being honest.”
A moment of silence came between them now, until finally, Casey punched out a breath and started shaking his head. “He just-says stuff like that to be playful. He is a rich kid, has his standards, but… really, Zeke, he likes me for me enough,” he said.
“You sure?”
“Why’s it matter, anyway? We’re just friends now, Zeke. I mean…” Casey rolled his eyes and straightened, turning to look outside. “…Yeah, we could talk more often than we do, even hang out. And if Jeremy WAS that jealous type who tried ‘forbidding’ me from that, I’d tell him where to stick it, okay? Promise.”
“Then why haven’t we hung out more?”
“Be-CAUSE, geez, Zeke,” Casey spat. His smile, however awkward or nervous it seemed, returned. “We dated for five months then broke-up what, a little less than a month ago? It’s gonna be weird here and there. But I do wanna be friends with you. Still care about you.”
“That’s why I’m saying what I’m saying. Cos’ yeah, me too. To you,” Zeke softly replied. Admitting just that was making his fingers quake, hard enough to tuck them under his arms to hide them.
“I know. But-don’t. Don’t worry, I mean. ‘K? Jeremy… he’s a real nice guy. It feels good, being with another photography-geek just as nuts as I am,” Casey said. “We just connect that way.”
It felt like another dig, even if Casey wasn’t meaning it to be. Here was Zeke, someone perfectly content with bringing a disposable camera with him to New Orleans, wondering if something as cold as one lone hobby could’ve kept he and Casey together. He fought it down, knowing he was reading more into things than he needed to, enough to say, “I get it,” and shrug. Perhaps he’d shown his insecurity in his lowered tone and eyes dropping down to stare at his soda again, because Casey blinked furiously and hunched down a little to look at him.
“M’not meaning to say, like-y’know, you were a jerk for not being into photography…”
“Pfft, I know that.”
“Do you?”
Zeke looked back up. Christ, his eyes were still that shade of gorgeous blue, weren’t they? He didn’t doubt that Casey’s lips, looking so damned pink and pliable, could still blitz Zeke’s brain if they were to suddenly land on his again. Realizing that he’d been sitting there, silent and staring long enough to make everything really and truly awkward, he shook his head and set his gaze back on the outside. ‘What the hell did he just say again?’ he panicked in his mind, trying to remember. But with what he saw next, he perked up and muttered, “Hey…”
Casey turned to look as well. A smile spread over his face. “Hey, hey,” he remarked at the sight of snow, falling in waves of large, clumpy bits.
“If this has shown up a few hours ago, maybe we’d have had an early dismissal. Damn it,” Zeke said, chuckling.
“Yeah, but then we wouldn’t have had a good, long chat. Like we’ve needed, right?”
Zeke flicked his eyes back to the boy, who was giving him a knowing grin. So he’d wanted this ‘talk time’, after all? Zeke felt giddy all of a sudden, causing him to make a goofy grin back. “Hey… if we DO have ourselves a more-than-needed day off from this farce…” He motioned lazily around them, scoffing a little, “…Wanna group-up tomorrow with Stan, Stokes and Del at the park tomorrow or something?”
“Yeah. Actually, yeah, we should, huh?” Casey said, equally as cheerful.
“Cool. If this stuff keeps up, it’s a given,” Zeke said. He looked out the window again, getting excited at the sight of the dead grassy floor starting to go white already. Whether it was a sudden need for diplomacy (or to look diplomatic, anyway) or the need to gather more ‘evidence’, he then asked, “Which school does Jer there go to?”
“Oh. Grayson’s Academy, in Ravenna,” Casey replied.
“Well, if they cancel too… and his fancy-pants’ed Audi can handle the drive, see if he wants to come out with us. You’ve hung with his friends, right?”
“Not really. Well, through photo-club, anyway.”
“Then it’s his turn to see how us townies do a snow-day.”
Casey rolled his eyes but smiled. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever, I’ll call. And I think most people, rich or not, like sledding and snowball fights,” he said.
“We’ll lie and say that Herrington snow is made up of Evian, if he gets nervous,” Zeke joked, earning a playful slap to his shoulder.
“C’mon! Knock it off, geez,” Casey said through rampant chuckles.
~*~