Page 15 of Mr. Frosty Pants
Casey leaned back against the headrest and studied the pristine ceiling of the car’s interior. The pine scent from the tree sticking out the back enveloped him. “Pretty sure it’s because I didn’t contact him for almost four years after I went to college.”
“Huh. Might not be the coolest thing you’ve ever done, but given your big old unrequited love, I understand why you did it.”
“Yeah. I stopped by Vreeland’s tonight to pick up a Christmas tree for my folks. He wasn’t happy to see me.”
RJ laughed. “Pissy little shit, ain’t he?”
Casey huffed and rolled his eyes. “You know what? He really is.”
“Yep,” RJ agreed and then hummed with a sweet gravelly purr that soothed Casey’s hurt.
Perking up, Casey asked, “Hey, where are you right now? Are you home for Christmas? Maybe we could get together. Hang out. Talk.” He and RJ hadn’t spent a ton of time together over the years, but Casey felt closer to him than anyone he’d met in New York. Which was really pathetic when he thought about it.
“Unfortunately I’m in Boston tonight. Then I’m spending Christmas in Cinci, gigging for a friend’s local band, and after that I’m heading out to London. Going on tour with Pearl Necklace.”
“Never heard of them.” That wasn’t a shock. RJ played guitar for almost any band that would take him on. He’d seen the world that way, though sometimes Casey wondered if he missed making his own music.
“Queer grunge-rock. Doesn’t pay as well as my last gig, but it’s a passion project for me.” RJ laughed with rough joy. It made Casey smile, despite his spinning head. “The lead singer’s my new boyfriend.”
“Oh? Awesome. Well, congratulations. What’s his name?”
“Pan Soldier.”
“No, it’s not.”
RJ cracked up. “No. It’s not. But that’s what he goes by onstage and that’s what he makes me call him in bed. ‘Yeah, Pan! Take it like the soldier you are!’”
Casey snorted. “You sure know how to pick ’em.”
“Don’t I, though?”
Settling into the driver’s seat again, Casey watched as a string of colored lights blinked to life on a trailer across the lake. “Remember back in high school when you lusted after our English Composition teacher? Twitchy Mr. Danvers?”
“Oh, man. Don’t even bring him up,” RJ groaned. “I still get hard when I think about his hot little ass in those tailored tweed pants. Christ.”
“You loved his bow ties.”
“His bow ties gave me life. It’s true. Shit.” RJ moaned again. “Why’d you bring him up, dude? Now you’ve gotmeriding the old crushes train again.” He sighed wistfully. “I won’t get any sleep tonight for stalking his Facebook and Instagram. He has both, by the way. And he’s as adorable now as he was back then.” RJ chuckled. “I’ve been on this particular ride before.”
Casey laughed. “Does he have a Twitter?”
“Guess I’ll have to find out.”
The front door to Casey’s parents’ house opened, and the golden foyer lamps illuminated his mother’s form. Her white-blond hair shone, and at some point she’d changed into red-and-green silk pajamas. She waved at him from the doorway, and he rolled down the window to shoot her a reassuring thumbs-up and to let her see he was on the phone. “Hey, I should go.”
“You sure? You know I’m here for your Joel-related heartache, buddy.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it. But I just got back to my folks’ place and my mom’s eager for me to bring the tree in.”
“Text anytime. FaceTime, whatever. Whenever. I’ll always be ready to spill tea about our love lives.”
“Why would we want to do that?”
RJ gave a long-suffering sigh. “Show some pride, Casey. Own up to being a human being. Admit you’re sick with the love disease. Accept that Joel is your weak spot.”
“I don’t even know him now.” Casey’s mother gave up and went back inside. He really should go join her, but he wanted to hear RJ deny Casey’s words first.
“He’s Joel. Of course you know him. Now go decorate the tree with your mommy like a good little boy.”
