Page 30 of Fear
He could tell that Tobias didn’t, and Tobias was losing control fast now. Fuck, this day had started so well. He sniffed hard, drawing his hand up to press his thumb and fingers into his eyes. “J-just—if any of them knew the t-truth, Jake—”
“Aw, Toby.” Jake moved closer, his arms folding around Tobias’s back, bringing his head against Tobias’s shoulder. It was that holding thing again, the last thing Tobias deserved at this point, and it was so bizarre, erasing the last particles of sense in Tobias’s world, that it broke him the rest of the way. Tobias collapsed, shoulders shaking as he cried into Jake’s shirt, and Jake didn’t let him go. He kept repeating he was sorry, and he wouldn’t leave Tobias alone again.
Tobias got a hold of himself before long. A few deep breaths, clenching his hand in the front of Jake’s shirt, and then he pulled himself up, wiping his eyes.
Jake still touched him, drawing his thumb down his cheek, close to the corner of his mouth. “It’s gonna get better.” He sounded like he was telling himself as much as Tobias. “It’ll get better, I promise.”
Jake rolled up Tobias’s sleeve, pressing a wet tissue to the bloody patch of skin, and opened a bottle of rubbing alcohol to dip a cotton ball in. “This’ll burn a bit,” he said quietly, meeting Tobias’s gaze. “Sorry, I just want to get it clean. It’ll be worse otherwise.”
Tobias nodded and prepared himself but, like yesterday with the scratches, hardly felt it when Jake touched the cotton to his skin. Jake watched him, brow knit, but said nothing until he finished pressing a large bandage into place.
“There.” He sat back on his heels, though he didn’t look satisfied. His eyes landed on Tobias’s extended leg. “Oh, yeah, your ankle.” He grabbed a cold pack from the kit, cracked it sharply over his thigh, then moved to feel Tobias’s ankle, between his sock and pants cuff. Tobias’s leg twitched involuntarily. “That hurt?”
“No,” Tobias said automatically, then forced himself to focus. “It’s just—a little throb by the ankle. Doesn’t hurt right now.”
“Yeah, but it will when you stand up.” Jake set the pack in place—the cold immediately seeping through Tobias’s sock—and wrapped a length of gauze around it to keep it in place. “Okay?” He looked up at him.
Tobias nodded, and Jake got to his feet, reaching to brush the back of his hand along the curve of Tobias’s cheek. “It’s gonna be okay,” he repeated. “We’ll be all right.” He dropped his hand. “I’m gonna go tell them we’re done, okay? And then we’ll catch a bus or something back to our side of town. I’ll be just on the other side of the door the whole time, I promise.”
Tobias nodded again, eyes down.
Jake hesitated a moment before stepping away. When the door swung shut behind him, Tobias had to fight the panic crawling up his throat. This time he wouldn’t move. He wouldn’t so much as flinch, no matter what happened (it was unlikely something else would come flying at his head, but not impossible), because he had to be here when Jake came back. Tobias curled his arm on the edge of the counter, leaning his head against it, and listened to Jake talk.
“Hey, thanks for everything, we’re all finished. Let me give you something for the supplies we took—”
“No, no, absolutely not. This is the least I can do for two kids new to Boulder.”
“No, really—”
“Put it away, hon. You ain’t giving me a penny. Look, you really want to pay me back, come around sometime and have some bagels and coffee. When your friend’s feeling better.”
“So—” That was Maryann’s voice, quiet, worried, but with a layer of steel under the surface. “What’s the story?”
Despite himself, Tobias tensed. He knew Jake wouldn’t tell these reals the truth and put either of them in that situation, but he didn’t know what Jake could say to explain how messed up, how freakish Tobias clearly was.
This is all your fault because you can’t act normal for a minute, just making trouble, he’ll be sick of you so soon.
But Jake was already answering, hardly a pause. “Tobias had a really rough time growing up. His mom disappeared when he was just a toddler, and he went through a whole string of foster homes. None of them should have ever been given a goldfish, much less a kid. Down in Louisiana, you know, the whole system’s screwed up there. My dad works in social services, so I met Tobias a bunch of times when he was getting reprocessed after the latest batch of shitheads—well, I know he doesn’t look it, small for his age, but he just turned eighteen. I promised him he could stay with me while he got on his feet.”
“Damn them and bless his heart,” Janet muttered. “I knew it couldn’t be anything good, the way he was jumping, but something like that . . . Poor kid.”
“Bless your heart for taking him in,” Maryann said. “Few boys your age would take on a responsibility like that.”
“Yeah, well—” Now, Jake sounded embarrassed, unlike the smooth, convincing flow of his cover story. “It’s just, Tobias. I mean. We kinda—”
“That’s all right.” Maryann’s tone had a slight current of amusement. “You don’t have to explain to us. Just keep on taking good care of him.”
“Of course.” Jake sounded sure again. “Hey, just one more thing. We walked down from our place, and I thought we’d just walk back, but now . . . Do you know what bus will take us by 20th and Pine?”
“Oh, don’t worry about it, hon,” Janet said. “I can give you a ride home myself.”
“No, seriously, you don’t have to—”
“Please, let me. These layabouts can handle the store without me for, what, half an hour, tops? And it’ll be easier on your boy too. He’s already been through a lot today. An afternoon bus can scare the bejeezus out of anyone, and if you’re still learning the system . . . I insist.”
“Not to pressure you into anything,” Maryann interjected. “Do whatever seems best for you both. The Number 14 bus can also get you to that area, and there’s a stop for it right around the corner.”
“Well—” Jake sounded torn. “I wouldn’t normally, but—since you offered—it’d probably be better to take on public transport some other day.”
