Page 61 of Vespertine
Hesitation marks. Jasper hadn’t seen them, and he honestlydidn’t know if he wanted to.Oh, Nicky. It made himheartsore to think Nicky had been in places that dark. Had seen things worsethan torn-up bunnies.
As a kid, Nicky’d had somber moments, but mostly he’d beenhappy to tear through the woods with Jasper. Until Jimmy Orlean came alonganyway. The year they’d both turned seventeen had simultaneously been the bestand the worst of his life.
Jasper drifted on a blanket of memories as the hollowpounding in his head eased. Once he thought he could stand without fallingover, he got rid of his sweat-stained clothes and pulled on a pair of yogapants. They were made of hemp and recycled polyester and would probably makeNicky die with laughter, but they were comfortable so Jasper tied the stringsaround his waist. He grinned at the thought and got a whiff of his stalebreath.
“Ugh.” Jasper made his way into his little bathroom andbrushed his teeth. Man, he hated vomiting. Pointing his toothbrush at hisreflection and with his mouth covered in white foam, he said, “If You’re tryingto tell me something, Lord, please use less bloody clues next time.” A blob oftoothpaste dripped down his chin and fell into the sink.
“If there’s any interference from God in this case, it’s Himmaking sure I was with you when you came home.”
Jasper startled a little and turned to see Nicky leaningagainst the doorframe, unabashedly taking in Jasper’s bare chest. His face wenthot when he quickly bent down to rinse his mouth.
“Yes, you’re absolutely right,” Jasper said, eyes on thecleaning of his toothbrush. Nicky’s gaze was like an electrifying thing and itmade his skin pebble. “You’re a gift from God.Or, ifI hadn’t driven over that nail, I’d have been here in time to close the windowand prevent the murder scene.” Jasper dried his hands and moved toward the doorbut Nicky didn’t step aside.
“Ormaybe He put that nail in yourpath so you had to call me because the massacre had happened.” Nicky verydeliberately stared into Jasper’s eyes. “Small miracles, isn’t that whatCatholicism is all about? Shouldn’t you pray to the patron saint of thesqueamish?”
“The patron saint of the squeamish? And who would that be?”
“You tell me. St. Angelus No Vomitus?”
Jasper let out a weak laugh, one of those that could quicklyturn into a helpless belly laugh he couldn’t control. Nicky used to have aknack for bringing those out, and then keep going until Jasper’s stomach hurtso badly he’d beg Nicky to please stop. “You know, there’s a patron saint formusicians,” he said, and just like that all the humor drained out of thebathroom as effectively as if he’d pulled an actual plug.
“Yeah?” Nicky asked softly. “And what’s he called?”
“It’s a woman, actually. Saint Cecilia. Good music is partof the liturgy, and Saint Cecilia watches over the choirs, but I always likedto believe she looked after rock stars too.”
Nicky looked down at Jasper’s bare feet. “I must’ve fallenoff her radar for a while, then.”
“You cleaned up bunny guts for me, Nicky. I’d say she foundyou again.” Nicky began to open his mouth as he shrugged but Jasper stilled himwith a hand on his arm. “Thank you.”
“No thanks needed,” Nicky mumbled. He ducked his head, andJasper gripped the back of his neck. He wanted to press their foreheadstogether like Nicky’d done earlier, but lacked the courage.
“Yes, they are.” He squeezed a little and let go. “You’re agood friend.”
Nicky nodded. He kept his eyes lowered and his dark lashesdovetailed out over his cheekbones. “So.” He cleared his throat and glanced up.“Pizza?”
“Sure.” Jasper hesitated. “All the blood is gone?”
“It’s all gone. But we can eat on the deck if the afterimageis burned on your retinas. Hell, even I’m gonna have trouble unseeing how thebrains fell out when—”
“Okay, okay, please shut up.” Jasper gave Nicky a littleshove as he shouldered past him and Nicky laughed, shoving him back. “Let me gograb a shirt.”
Nicky made a noise but didn’t say anything else, and Jasperdidn’t turn around to check his expression.
As always, Jasper wrestled over the phone with the owner ofRocco’s, who tried to give him his pizzas for free, and ended up paying halfprice.
Nicky was staring at him with a sort of disbelievingamusement. “Seriously? You have to fight people to let you pay them?”
“Not usually, no.” Jasper glanced at Nicky and opened hisfridge. “Confession business,” he said, when Nicky still seemed to be waitingfor an answer. “And I always overtip the delivery boy to compensate. You want abeer?”
Nicky snorted and shoved his hands in his pockets. It made hisshoulders round a bit. “I really do. But no.”
“Oh no.” Jasper closed the fridge but held on to thehandles, his knuckles turning white. He felt mortified. “I’m so sorry. I’m anidiot.”
“Sometimes.” Nicky grinned, but Jasper didn’t quite buy itand he had to stamp down on the urge to reach out and touch him again.
“I really am sorry. You’re working so hard and doing so welland here I am offering you alcohol.”
“It shouldn’t be a big deal to offer someone a beer, Jazz.And I could probably drink one, no problem. My therapist says it’s best not toat all. And I agree.” He bit his lip and then laughed softly. “You know how todrag the giant pink elephant into the room don’t you?”
