Page 63 of We Could Be So Good
“Vagrancy,” Nick says. “With another man at the Navy Yard. I was eighteen. That cop today was the arresting officer.” He’s dimly aware that he’s managed to produce a succinct and comprehensive lead paragraph.
Andy is silent for a moment. His fingers twitch on the tabletop, as if he wants to reach over and take Nick’s hand. Instead he takes a drag from his cigarette. “What happened after you were arrested?”
“I was booked but never charged. They let me go home with my brother.” He still isn’t sure exactly what Michael did that night. Presumably some buddy of his had been convinced to lose the paperwork or forget what he saw.
“Your brother pulled strings,” Andy guesses.
“I know it’s not right.” Here Nick is, making a name for himself in chasing down dirty cops and the only reason he has a job in the first place is because his brother didn’t follow the rules.
Worst of all, he’s grateful for it. He’s indebted to his brother and he always will be.
Andy’s glass hits the table with a thunk. “What isn’t right is being arrested for what you did.”
Nick makes a dismissive noise.
“Come on,” Andy says, as serious as Nick’s ever heard him. “You know that, right?”
“I got special treatment. I don’t even have an arrest record.”
“Good.”
“It’s corrupt.”
“Good.”
Nick snorts. “So you’re a fan of police corruption now.”
Andy narrows his eyes. “You do realize that I have a horse in this race.” He gestures idly between them. “I do not give one shit how or why or under what circumstances you got let off, because I care about you.” He lowers his voice so Nick has to lean in to hear. “And I don’t give one shit how or whyanyqueer gets let off, and that’s for a slew of reasons, not least because I’m one of them.”
Hearing Andy say that about himself makes Nick want to disagree for some stupid reason, wants to tell him that he never has to worry about getting arrested at the Navy Yard. But even as those thoughts take shape in his mind, he recognizes them as bullshit. Sure, Andy’s going to get married and get a dog and a couple of kids in the bargain, but right now he’s spending his evenings kissing Nick on the couch, and that’s as much against the law as anything any queer gets arrested for.
“Is that cop today going to make trouble for you?” Andy asks.
Nick hesitates. “I don’t think so. He plays cards with my brother every Saturday night.”
“You need to get off that police corruption story.”
“What?”
“You can’t make enemies of people who have dirt on you. Come on, Nick.”
Nick’s stubs out his cigarette with unnecessary force. He’s not going to argue with Andy about this—not now, at least. But he’s not dropping that damn story. He’s worked his ass off to get to where he is, and that story is the best thing that’s happened to his career.
Andy seems to understand enough to change the topic. “I thought you said your family doesn’t know. About you, I mean.”
Nick shakes his head. “I told my brother I was trying to steal that guy’s wallet.” He feels a hot wash of shame, both at the idea that stealing from that man was better than blowing him, and also at the memory of the look on his brother’s face when he got Nick out of that jail cell.
“He believed you?”
Nick still isn’t sure. “If he doesn’t, at least he pretends to.”
Andy finishes his drink. “I told my father that I’m missing the afternoon meeting because I’m coming down with whatever you have, so let’s get out of here.” He gets to his feet before Nick can argue that this is insane; Andy’s been working too hard to blow off a meeting for no reason at all. But Andy is already moving toward the door. “We’re going home,” he says, low and decisive. “And we’re taking a cab.”
Chapter Fifteen
Andy is furious. It’s coming off him in waves. In the cab, every time Nick glances over, all he sees is the firm set of Andy’s jaw, the clench of his fists.
“I’m sorry,” Nick mutters.
