Page 7 of Vespertine
Through the partition, Nicky could see Jazz bend his head. “There’sno limit on God’s grace, Nicky.”
Nicky’s mouth ached with his tiny, bitter smile. “Jazz.”
A laugh so soft Nicky almost thought he’d imagined itdrifted between them. “You’ll have to forgive me.”
“For admitting that you know who I am? That seems fuck-allimportant considering our past.”
“I’m sorry to hear you’re still angry.”
Nowthatmade him angry. He’d comeprepared to make amends, but Jazz was the same smug asshole he’d been back onthe day they’d broken up. “You’re sorry I’m angry? What the fuck does thatmean? How about you’re sorry for what youdidinsteadof how I’mfeeling.” Nicky’s hands began to shake andhe stuffed them between his knees. “So what? Am I supposed to be over it bynow? We were best friends. Lovers.”You meant everything tome.
Jazz didn’t dispute this description. He sat patientlywaiting, head down, as if Nicky’s words washed over him like harmless summerrain. Basking in heavenly certainty, probably.
“So what should I forgiveyoufor,Jazz? Maybe we should consider that. How about you letting me fall in love withyou? Making me think you loved me back?” He waited and Jazz was so fuckingquiet. Such a supercilious littleshit. Nicky wantedto punch something, but everything in the confessional looked so sturdy he’donly end up breaking his knuckles.
And still Jazz said nothing. So much for the catharticpurging of nearly two decades worth of sorrow.
“Oh, I know. Maybe you’d like me to forgive you for fuckingme through the mattress until I cried out for your precious God? Screwing withmy head formonthsbefore you dropped your bombshellof priestly ambition on me?” He was on a roll now. Jazz’s silence goaded him. “Ormaybe I should forgive you for leaving me like you did?” Nicky laughed, but itwas a disgusting sound. The wash of pain was fresh all over again, rememberingtheir parting in the clean and sober light of day. “I was so scared.”
Jazz shifted minutely, the robes rustling in the silence. “Weboth were.”
“Not you. Not really. You can’t play that card on me. Youhad your whole future ahead of you, all planned out while mine went up inflames. And I know you. You forget. I fuckingknowyou. You destroyed me and then shut the door on the mess you made like I didn’tmatter, like we didn’t count for anything. That’s a lot to forgive you for.”
Jazz was silent but Nicky could hear his labored breath andthe emptiness between them stretched. Nicky flicked his finger against thescreen, but Jasper still didn’t speak. It was too much. He ached through andthrough, almost as bad as the detox pain had been back at the clinic. He neededto get a goddamn reaction out of Jazz or he’d end up doing something trulystupid when he walked out of this church.
“I remember every minute, you know? From our first kiss toour last.” Nicky dropped his voice. “The first time you put your mouth on mydick. Yeah, I remember that really fucking well.” A tiny superstitious part ofNicky expected to be struck down and he’d welcome it. Jazz, for all it wasworth, could have been a statue sitting there. “You’re not going to sayanything?”
“This isn’t the time nor the place for that kind ofconversation, Nicky.” Jazz’s voice sounded strained. “I understand you’re angryand if you want to talk, we can do that. But not here. It’s inappropriate anddisrespectful and you know it.”
“Don’t talk to me about respect.”
Jazz sighed and brought his folded hands to his lips for amoment. “Nicky, we were just children.”
“What a fan-fucking-tastic excuse!” He waited, but Jazz didn’tsay anything else. He lowered his voice a little, let it purr with a seductivethrill he hadn’t used while sober in a long time. “I guess no one calls youJazz now.” Their time together seemed forever ago. Five forevers ago. “I betyou’ve forgotten all about the fort and how we used to swim there. How I’d waitfor you to finish your homework so we could explore the woods and run wild. Iremember how you were obsessed with foxes. You could hang out in a tree forhours, waiting for one to show up. I guess no one calls you Fox now either. Didyou forget all of that?”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Jasper said gently.
“But you’re not Fox anymore, are you? Or Jazz. It’s FatherJasper Hendricks, do-gooder and perfect, pure-of-heart, asswipe of God.”
Jazz sighed and his voice was a whisper when he asked, “Doyou have any sins to confess? Because if you don’t, this conversation is over.”
“Oh, fuck yes I do. You sure you want to hear them,Father? You sure you’re up for it?”
There was another long moment and then Jazz began. “Let theword of God guide you.” Nicky listened as Jazz recited more scripture. “Lord,You know all things; You know that I love You.”
Nicky laughed with genuine amusement. “Well, I sure as shitdon’t know that, but what the hell. Fresh start, right?” He cleared his throatand cast his mind back to the beginning. “Heroin, that’s a big one. Chasingpleasure for the sake of pleasure?”For the sake offorgetting. “I bet it’s been a long time since you’ve allowed yourselfto do that. What else? Pills. Coke. Cock. Mmm. In massive quantities. Do youwant details, Fox? I bet you do. You always liked it when I talked dirty toyou. I can give you details. Or I could just sum it up.” Jazz wasn’t looking athim, but Nicky let his hands drift over his torso anyway, down his legs. “Orgasmsupon orgasms, rolling on a tidal wave of drugs and so many strangers’ assholesand dicks that I couldn’t begin to guess a number.” Nicky’s lips twisted. “Funnything: they were always you, and never you, and it never meant a damn thing,but it always motherfucking hurt.”
Jazz made a small sound that could have been pain but Nickywasn’t sure. And he hadn’t meant to do this. He’d meant to come here and makeamends, not spill his festering guts, and definitely not rip open a new riftbetween them.
But everything spilled out, unstoppable now. “It was you andthe lack of you, and me swallowing all the cocks in the world hoping to fillthe place inside that just wanted your goddamn smile; your hand in mine. Justyour presence. Just to hear you breathe. It would have been enough.”
Jazz’s hands raised prayerfully to his lips were easilydiscernible through the screen. It was true. If it was Jazz’s breath ornothing, he’d take his breath. If it was his hand or nothing, he’d take hishand. That was why he’d come home, wasn’t it? Because of Jazz and his fuckingface onThe Atlanticmagazine cover lying on thetable in the detox clinic waiting room. His eyes had soothed Nicky’s skitteringheart and called him back to Little Heights. But this man, thispriest, wasn’t soothing at all.
“Where was I? Oh yeah. Anal sex. Mainly receiving.Miraculously, I’ve been told I’m still negative. I guess I didn’t try hardenough to kill myself, though it seemed like I was making a good go of it atthe time. You know, if the measure of despair and self-loathing is anything togo by.”
“Please don’t—” Jazz’s voice cracked with emotion. “There’salways something to live for. The Lord doesn’t intend your life to always besuffering. You’re strong. One of the strongest men I’ve ever—”
“Ha. Good one.” Nicky smiled and it scared him how he couldn’thold it back. He turned his face away from the partition. “You keep messing upthis anonymity thing.”
