Page 24 of Fear
Tobias still watched him. “Is it okay—that I read f-fiction, too? Even if it’s not as useful? I mean, sometimes it can be. The research library in the camp had a whole section on so-called fairy tales that I cross-referenced with historical accounts. But I don’t know if this—”
“Toby, dude, it’s totally okay. All these books are for you, and if they’re all useful then I’m doing something wrong.” Then Jake’s eyes fell on the TV Guide he’d tossed onto the coffee table. “Hey, let’s see if there’s anything good on tonight.” He picked it up to flick through it, wondering what Tobias would like. Wheel of Fortune? Jeopardy? The Young and the Restless?
Definitely not one of the ASC’s tacky “reality” TV shows featuring shiny, Botoxed hunters taking down monsters with a Hollywood camera crew at their backs. Every hunter worth even half their salt hated those sellouts, though the ASC approved them for the sake of “educating the public.”
When the timer beeped, Tobias followed him into the kitchen and helped Jake carry the plates and cans of soda, but Jake stopped him before he set everything on the table.
“Let’s eat dinner on the couch. I think I found something you’ll like.”
Tobias changed course easily enough, and Jake felt absurdly pleased when Tobias folded his legs onto the couch beside him. He flicked through the channels until he found the one kicking off a Christmas in July special, with the first Home Alone movie about to begin. He figured it was better to start off with something light and safe, and what could be better than a slapstick Christmas comedy, even if it was hot outside.
Jake tried not to watch Tobias obsessively as the movie got underway. It was part of his effort not to drive himself insane with every little thing so that he wouldn’t get himself killed before recognizing an actual threat. It was hard, though, as the McCallister family embarked on their absurd antics, not to be hyperaware of Tobias’s reactions—or lack thereof. Sure, it was a cheesy film, but Jake had a soft spot for it. He and Dad had spent a few Christmases watching motel cable, drinking hot chocolate and whiskey through multiple repeats of classics like The Santa Clause and A Christmas Story. Jake thought Home Alone was pretty funny.
But Tobias didn’t laugh. Not once.
Jake tried not to notice. He tried not to track Tobias’s reactions to every scene, because he wanted so damn much to believe this would be okay. That they could watch a classic Christmas movie without falling apart. He should have known better—the bandages on Tobias’s hands, the memory of the grocery store should have reminded him that nothing was easy or safe, nothing could be taken for granted. And he should never have ignored the first time Tobias flinched when Kevin slapped aftershave onto his cheeks and let out the scream to raise the dead. But he let it go until they reached the night when the Wet Bandits walked straight into Kevin’s booby traps.
The moment Kevin took aim with his BB gun at Harry’s crotch, it clicked for Jake. Tobias had never made a sound, but every time someone got hurt, made a threat, or a sneering remark, he had flinched, flattened himself into the couch, or balled his hands in his lap. Then it hit Jake without warning what all that body language had been pointing at. Way too fucking late. Jake fumbled for the remote and shut off the TV before Kevin could pull the trigger.
Jake leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and head in his hands, and took a moment to breathe and think what he’d almost done to Tobias. Of what could have happened if he’d let that play out. He remembered now, vividly, what had been coming up: Harry grabbing a red-hot doorknob; Marv’s bare foot stepping on a nail; Harry’s head torched; the bandits threatening to bite off Kevin’s fingers. Fuck.
It was a minute before he could bring himself to lift his head and look to see how much damage he’d inflicted. But Tobias, to his amazement, looked okay—no, not okay, Jake knew fucking better than that now, and he was beginning to fear he’d ever see Tobias okay—he looked nervous and a little upset, but not in pieces, nothing like he had been . . . those other times. He was looking at Jake, for one.
Tobias bit his lip, hands twisting in his lap. “You don’t . . . you don’t have to turn it off. I didn’t—”
“No, Tobias, it’s cool. Stupid movie anyway.” Jake leaned back and stared at the smooth plaster ceiling. He almost wished for a few cracks, a spiderweb or two, maybe a creepy water stain. At least then he could pretend he could divine some answers. Instead, he received what he always got from the universe: a blank white nothing for him to fuck up. He kept talking, hoping maybe if he just kept the words coming at some point they would make sense, and what he had almost done to Tobias would go away, and he wouldn’t have to think about how dangerous every—little—thing—was, and how inevitably he was going to be blindsided again. And again. “I mean, we could play cards, we could . . . read. Or . . . sleep. I like sleeping, it’s . . . restful.”
Any normal person would tell Jake that he was a fucking mumbling idiot and there was no way they wanted to hang out with him. He half expected Tobias to start begging or say something about how they could do whatever, he didn’t care, he didn’t care about anything.
But Tobias said, a little nervously, “Cards . . . cards sound good. If you’re not . . .”
Jake never thought that hearing someone else’s opinion about what to do for an evening would feel so good. But this was Tobias.
Yeah, it didn’t make him feel like the best human being in the world, but it gave him enough strength to look away from the ceiling to where Tobias was looking at him with something close to hope in his eyes.
“Well, hell,” Jake said. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
They moved to the kitchen table because the coffee table really wasn’t tall enough to play cards on. Jake got them a couple more sodas—he didn’t think he should be drinking anymore, not right now, when bad things could happen any second that he wasn’t paying attention—while Tobias absently, easily, shuffled the old deck Jake had gotten out of his room.
Tobias set the deck on the table between them when Jake sat down across from him. “War?” he asked. When Tobias nodded, Jake gestured toward the deck. “Split it for us?”
Tobias took the cards, tapped the deck twice between his hands to even out the cards—a nervous tic, but one that Tobias had had since they were kids—and split the deck in half with one smooth motion and handed Jake his half.
Jake counted automatically, vaguely dreading finding too many cards in his deck, or even needing to hand Tobias one, but he had a perfect twenty-six.
Jake grinned at him when he was done. Tobias hadn’t even bothered to count, just watched him with mild worry. “You’re too damn good at this,” Jake said.
Tobias shook his head with a small smile and rolled his eyes, and just like that they were kids again, when Jake had finally poked and joked and acted goofy with him long enough to get Tobias to give him an honest-to-goodness exasperated response. Even when Tobias reluctantly took the first three plays—all the fucking twos were in Jake’s hand, and apparently on top—Jake couldn’t keep the silly grin off his face.
War took forever, but that was okay, because every second the cards passed over the table, Tobias looked a little more relaxed.
Jake swept all the cards up after War and shuffled with practiced ease. He preferred pool hustling to card sharking—part of him admitted he liked the possibility of violence, the fact that any second the con could go wrong and then he’d be up against some pissed-off dudes holding long sticks—but he could still play cards like a Vegas dealer. He grinned at Tobias. “Crazy Eights?”
When Tobias grinned back, real enjoyment in his eyes, Jake thought his heart might stop. “I won last time,” he pointed out.
Jake tried to contain the swell of hope and happiness that hit him, all because Tobias was teasing him. “Think you remember the rules?”
He didn’t expect Tobias’s face to pale, his hands to tense on the table. But at least Tobias didn’t fall back into his shell, he didn’t retreat, and he didn’t drop his eyes for more than a couple seconds before looking back up at Jake. “Unless you’ve changed them,” Tobias said softly, “I remember.”
