The Geek and His Artist (30 page)

He was already a little exhausted by everything, but when Mrs. Bennet insisted on two more of what she called “short” stops, he didn’t say anything. Of course, when he was in a wheelchair again, rolling through Best Buy, his stomach dropped out because he had a feeling they weren’t shopping for Jimmy’s parents or Jimmy himself.

And he was right. He had to remember how to breathe when they made it to the computer department and Mrs. Bennet asked his opinion between two different laptops. “They won’t run Photoshop or some of the other stuff you’ll have to do for your art degree, I’m sure. Well, not well, at least. But my desktop at home runs Photoshop well, and by the time you need it at college, you should be able to save up enough to buy a decent Apple for that.”

Simon opened his mouth to reply, then closed it because nothing came out. He blinked at Mrs. Bennet, then looked up at Jimmy, who shrugged.

“I got mine for Christmas. I have no clue what it’s got. It lets me write my papers, get on the Internet, and play a few games. That’s all I know.”

Simon looked back at Mrs. Bennet. He took a deep breath, repressed the instinctual reply of
I don’t need one
, and instead said, “Whichever you think is best?”

The brilliant smile she gave him over that warmed him all the way to his toes, and he realized something: he was making her happy by letting her buy for him and take care of him. He remembered when he was little and sick and his mom kept hovering, offering him everything under the sun, when he just wanted to be left alone. But he’d realized then what he was realizing now: that it was probably just a mom thing—to take care of someone when they were hurt, sick, or just needed it. So this was Mrs. Bennet’s way of dealing with what he’d been through.

And the idea that she needed to deal with it because she cared that much stopped any future protests.

They finished at Best Buy, stopped at Target, where she replaced his notebooks, pens, and other school supplies, then added the art supplies he
was
supposed to have for class. He bit his tongue over the easel and paint set. She made him pick out a cereal, and tried to ask for a preference on things like shampoo and soap—but he’d never had anything special, so he had no idea what to choose. He’d ended up blushing and mumbling something about the stuff Jimmy used. She grinned, obviously figuring out
how
he knew what Jimmy smelled like, but didn’t say anything. Instead, she simply picked up a few bottles and tossed them in the cart.

He tried not to pay attention to anything else she grabbed, thankful when Jimmy took him to pick up a couple of things without their mom. He wanted to die of embarrassment, however, when he realized where they were.

Jimmy leaned in to his ear. “I know we don’t actually need those,” he murmured, casually pointing toward the condoms. Simon nodded. “But I wanted to ask you before I do this, if you want to have that—” He pointed at the lube. “—on hand.”

Simon couldn’t miss
why
Jimmy would want it. And it meant the world to Simon that Jimmy was asking, not assuming. But he didn’t need to think about it, especially now that they were sleeping in the same bed—and he was
happy
to be there. He cleared his throat. “Yes, I’d like that,” he whispered.

That didn’t keep him from blushing to a near magenta color when Jimmy picked up the bigger bottle and went up front to pay for it. Especially when his mom gave them a knowing look and a smirk.

By the time they finished, Simon realized school would be ending soon. They hurried back to the house so the guys wouldn’t end up sitting on the cold porch, and Simon let Jimmy carry him in without complaint. He busied himself with cutting tags and opening packages to feel like he was helping while they carried everything in.

“We are
so
ordering in tonight. Chinese good with you guys?” their mom asked.

Jimmy nodded. “Yeah, sounds good.” The last word ended on a yawn. “Damn, not used to running around that much. Missed my nap in economics.”

Simon snorted when their mom smacked Jimmy on the back of the head. “You better not be sleeping in class.”

Jimmy laughed. “As if. You know better.”

She set a basket next to Simon on the couch. “Load up the clothes so I can wash them.” When he opened his mouth, she held up a finger. “Worry not. You’ll be responsible for folding them. You can’t put them away yet, but when your leg is healed, you’ll have your own chores.”

Simon nodded. “Thank you,” he said, hiding the smile when he gathered his new clothes and piled them in the basket for her.

As soon as she left, the doorbell rang. Simon tensed when all five of their friends came in and flopped down onto the loveseat or took space on the floor. He noted Sean sat next to Kip, but they didn’t touch. He frowned, hoping nothing was wrong between them.

“Dude, Mom’s not going to care. I’m out to her, remember?” Jimmy said pointedly to Sean.

Sean took a breath and shifted closer to Kip, who put an arm around him, then kissed his temple.

Simon smiled. “So… what’d we miss at school?”

Tony made a face. “Carson got into a fight today. Apparently, Ronnie’s phone thing started kind of a fight between Carson and his friend Kevin.”

“Oh?” Simon asked, glancing at Ronnie, who shrugged.

“Yeah, it
seems
that Kevin… is gay.” Deck shook his head.

“Holy shit!” Jimmy sat up, shifting Simon, who hissed when he bumped his leg. “Sorry, baby!”

“It’s okay, I’m okay.” He rolled his eyes. “He’s been babying me all weekend.”

“Uh, duh?” Kip said, shaking his head.

Simon scowled. “Traitor,” he muttered, making Kip snort.

“So, seriously?” Jimmy asked, squeezing Simon’s good leg. “About Kevin?”

Tony nodded. “Yup. Dude was so far in the closet, he lived in Narnia.”

Simon laughed along with everyone else. “Wow, that has to suck for him, though,” he said, when he calmed down.

“Yeah, I can be a dick, I know, but I didn’t realize it’d fuck him up,” Ronnie said, frowning. “Kevin’s never been a jerk like Carson has.”

“He’s no saint,” Simon said, shaking his head. “I mean, not nearly as bad as Carson, but he can be a jerk too.”

“Yeah, but….” Ronnie shrugged a shoulder.

“So, was Carson fighting Kevin?” Jimmy asked.

“No,” Deck said, snickering. “He was—get this—
defending
Kevin. Someone was picking on him for being gay.”

“No shit?” Simon asked.

“Nope. One of the guys on his team, actually.”

“Well, guess anyone can change,” Jimmy muttered.

“Anyway….”

Simon listened only partially as the guys continued chattering about school and TV and a bunch of other mundane things. Simon’s tension finally eased completely when he realized they really weren’t pissed at him for hiding. And he was glad, too, that they didn’t seem interested in dwelling on what happened. He didn’t think he’d get away with not talking about it ever, but he wasn’t ready yet and didn’t know when he would be, so he was grateful for the reprieve.

He just wished the rest of the world would follow his friends’ example.

S
IMON
FINISHED
brushing his teeth, rinsed, and put his new toothbrush in the cup. He picked up the hairbrush Jimmy had found in his old place and pulled it through his blond hair again, smoothing it over his left ear. He ran his fingers over the freshly shaved part of his head, wondering if he should brush his hair differently to cover it up, but decided he’d just drive himself nuts that way.

After Jimmy had mentioned the shaved part a few days before and Simon had told him the reason he’d originally worn his hair that way, he’d found he was so used to it that he missed it. So when Jimmy pointed out he liked it, they’d gone up to the bathroom a few minutes later and pulled out the trimmers.

Their mom—as Simon had really started thinking of Mrs. Bennet, even though, at best, she’d only ever be his mother-
in-law
—had offered to buy him a new hairbrush. But Simon thought it was kind of symbolic. The Bastard had tried to break it, just like he’d tried to break Simon. And both times, he failed. So Simon wanted to keep it.

He shook his head at himself, grabbed his crutches, and hobbled out of the bathroom. He had to grip the handles very tightly because his palms were sweaty. He was trying not to think about what he had to go do that day, but it was never far from his mind.

The day before, he’d gone to finally get his cast. It hadn’t hurt like he’d expected it to. Partially because of the painkillers in him, partly because the swelling had gone down significantly, but the biggest reason was because the doctor and nurse had amazingly gentle touches. He’d been so happy and excited about being able to help, to do things, to move around a little more on his own, they’d stopped for lunch to celebrate. After some amazing barbecue ribs from Applebee’s and a few very public, very enthusiastic celebratory kisses from Jimmy—which Simon had loved—they’d gone home to meet with the caseworker.

From that point his good mood had gone bad pretty quickly. Mrs. Andrews had managed to obtain a fast court date to get the paperwork for the guardianship signed. Simon hadn’t thought that would be a big deal. He figured he’d put on his nicer clothes, go down to the courthouse, and tell the judge he liked the Bennets and wanted to stay with them.

But the caseworker told him that he was going to have to explain
why.
And that meant testifying to the abuse.

Simon didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He wanted to put it behind him and forget all about The Bastard. He wanted to think about graduating and college and, hopefully, having a life with Jimmy.

He apparently didn’t have a choice. And so he’d spent the better part of the afternoon talking through it with Mrs. Andrews, working on what parts to talk about, how much to say, discussing how to answer the questions he’d be asked, and so on. And all the while, Jimmy sat next to him, a hand on his back or shoulder. Simon had been more than a little scared—
terrified
was a better word—of Jimmy’s reaction. He felt like such a wimp, remembering how much The Bastard had beaten him, all those times he’d been kicked, punched—or worse—and never tried to fight back. By the time he’d finished, he couldn’t make himself turn and look at Jimmy for anything. His hands rested on his legs, fisted tightly. His throat had closed, making breathing almost a nightmare.

Jimmy turned his face and, in front of their parents and Mrs. Andrews, kissed Simon firmly. “I’m sorry you went through that.” He shook his head, and Simon’s fear finally started to fade enough so he could actually see Jimmy’s expression, which was one of awe. “You are the strongest person I know,” he’d whispered.

Simon had thrown himself into his boyfriend’s arms. “I… I don’t feel strong,” he’d murmured into Jimmy’s ear. “I feel like the world’s biggest wimp. I can’t… you… I….” He took a deep, shuddering breath.

“You are so not a wimp,” Jimmy said, arms tightening. “I love you, remember?” He kissed Simon’s temple. “Let me be here for you, okay? Don’t shut me out, and don’t worry about what I think. All I’m ever going to think about is how much I love you.”

Simon buried his face in Jimmy’s neck and nodded. “I’m sorry. I love you too. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Shhh, it’s okay. Let’s finish this, okay?”

A
ND
NOW
,
Simon was grateful for his boyfriend, that Jimmy would be there for him through this, as he hobbled into the bedroom they shared. He paused, grinning at Jimmy at his desk, on his computer, typing something furiously. Jimmy turned in the chair, smile spreading. “God, you’re hot,” he said, eyes widening as they swept over Simon’s mostly naked form. He wore boxers over his briefs and nothing else.

Simon blushed. “Now my cheeks are,” he muttered, hobbling over to the bed and nearly falling onto the side. He sighed, then realized he’d left his clothes hanging up. He started to get up, then changed his mind and sent a shy smile at Jimmy. “Could… you get my clothes?”

Jimmy grinned, obviously pleased Simon had actually asked for something. He’d tried not to push to do too much on his own, but after having to do everything for so long, he didn’t know how to let people do for him. He just… didn’t. But he was working on it.

Jimmy insisted on helping him dress, and Simon decided he didn’t mind because he’d taken the boxers off fine, but discovered he needed it when he couldn’t seem to pull his pants on, wobble on one leg,
and
button and zipper the pants at the same time. Jimmy got them on him, over the cast, and in place. “Thank you.”

“Of course, baby.” He leaned in and kissed Simon’s forehead. “Now I’ve got to get dressed. You okay with the shirt?”

Simon nodded, picking up the long-sleeve burgundy button-down shirt, then shrugging it on. Despite his attempts at not thinking about it, the day ahead cropped up in his mind again. His hands shook as he tried to do the buttons, and he couldn’t even seem to get the first one done.

After a moment of struggle, Jimmy’s hands closed over his. “Let me, baby,” he murmured, kneeling in front of Simon.

Simon let his hands drop, his heart pounding. “Sorry. I’m such a mess.”

“Hell, I would be, too. In fact, I don’t know if I’d be able to keep it together
this
well.” Jimmy finished his buttons swiftly, then tilted Simon’s face up. Simon had about two seconds warning before Jimmy kissed him so thoroughly, Simon nearly forgot his own name.

“Wow,” he muttered, blinking at Jimmy, who was grinning.

“Better?”

Simon nodded, unable to say more.

“Good.” He dropped another kiss—this one light—on Simon’s lips before standing. Simon watched him pull his own shirt on, a lighter blue that looked really good with his complexion. He went back to the closet and got out his dress shoes and Simon’s right Converse. Simon pulled his sock on and focused on his shoe. When he looked up, Jimmy was holding up two ties. “What do you think? Which one do you want?”