Jason nodded. “Jase. I assume you’re Elliot?”
Oh good, Elliot had now been rude to Joe’s beloved nephew, and he was about to lose his last sanctuary earlier than scheduled. “Crap,” Elliot added, heartfelt. “I thought you were like ten.” He was desperate enough to give the eyes for the elves a try, and willed: Don’t make me leave. “You could not be left alone with the musical equipment if you were ten. That would be highly irresponsible.”
“Well, we’re even then,” said Jase. “The way Uncle Joe talked about you, I thought for sure you were a little kid. But you look plenty grown up to me.”
“That’s me,” Elliot confirmed. “Mature. Like a fancy cheese. But unlike a fancy cheese, I can be trusted with the musical equipment. I won’t—I won’t come into the store and mess around unattended again, though.”
“You can come in and mess around anytime you like,” said Jase.
Victory! Elliot glowed and beamed.
Jase sorted idly through album cases without looking at them. Elliot glanced at the black barbed wire inscribed around his fingers.
“Uncle Joe said you went to a military academy in the north.”
“Uh . . .,” Elliot said. “Sure, yes. Really north. Very military academy.”
Jase nodded and looked at Elliot consideringly. “I can see it.”
“What?” said Elliot.
“So, you like music?”
Here Elliot was in a music shop and wearing his Pink Floyd T-shirt, even though it fit all wrong now. Elliot wondered if Jase was simple. But he was on a mission to be allowed free run of the place, so . . . “Love it,” Elliot said cheerfully.
“Cool,” said Jase. “If you’re at a loose end later, maybe you’d like to come see my band practice. I’m the drummer.”
The beatific prospect of not having to go home at all opened up to Elliot like clouds to reveal the sun or ice-cream to reveal jelly. “Yes,” Elliot breathed with conviction. “I would like that very much.”
“Cool,” Jase said again, and then gave Elliot another considering look, this one a bit more worried. “How old are you, exactly?”
“Sixteen,” said Elliot. “Practically.”
From the vaguely startled look on Jase’s face, it was clear he’d thought Elliot was older. Elliot wondered why it mattered. Maybe the band practiced in a bar, but unless Elliot ordered a drink he should be fine.
Then it occurred to Elliot why it mattered.
“Oh, well. Sixteen. That’s old enough,” said Jase at last, relaxing. “’Cause this would be a date.”
He looked at Elliot, this time with his eyebrows raised, more challenge than consideration.
“I know, I just got that a couple of minutes ago,” said Elliot. “I’m not sure why I didn’t get it before. You were being pretty obvious about it. Also slightly clichéd. But I haven’t been hit on a lot.”
Jase looked extremely startled while Elliot was talking, which often happened while Elliot was talking and was usually a bad sign, but at the last thing he smiled. Elliot was entirely unclear on what he had done right or what he’d done wrong.
“No?” said Jase, still smiling.
“Only once before by a guy,” said Elliot. “My friend Luke’s cousin. And honestly I hated him and wanted him to fall into a pit of spikes.”
“So you’ve never . . .,” said Jase, and did not seem displeased about that at all. “But you are . . . ?”
“You need to learn to finish your sentences for more effective communication,” Elliot advised.
“You still wanna go on a date with me?” asked Jase.
“I don’t know. I’m thinking about it,” Elliot said impatiently.
Jase was back to looking startled. “Well . . . let me know.”
The thought of going home was like the idea of voluntarily stepping into an abyss. Elliot felt a sick swoop of horror at the thought of condemning himself to that when he had another option.
But he could hang out in darkened parking lots on his own, he supposed. He didn’t have to go anywhere with this guy.
Jason had asked if he’d never, and asked if he was, and even if he hadn’t finished his sentences Elliot had understood. Jason was cute, and Elliot was flattered to be asked, and . . . Elliot had always known he liked both, had strongly suspected that his teacher talking about him confusing hero worship with something else was idiocy. Elliot was rarely confused about anything.
Only he’d been really young when he met Serene, and he’d loved her at once, known at once that if he had her he would never want anyone else. He’d thought about guys occasionally, but in the same fleeting way he’d thought about other girls. He’d figured that he never had to work it out.
Except he didn’t have Serene. She didn’t want him. And somebody else did.
“I’ve thought about it,” said Elliot. “Yeah, I’ll go on a date with you.”
Jase grinned. “Cool.”
Jason really needed to expand his vocabulary, Elliot thought. But that was okay. They could work on that.
Elliot hung around in the shop all day and came to Jase’s band practice that night. They really did practice in the upper room of a bar. The group accepted him without surprise, and Elliot was pleased to see that Jase was actually pretty good, though Marty the lead singer was absolutely atrocious. Elliot spent most of the practice talking to Alice, who did the lights and showed him how to as well.
He told her he was really behind on his technology, and she laughed at him, but nicely, as if she thought he was fun and was ready to accept him. They all seemed ready to do that, and it was absolute blissful relief just to have people who would look at him when they spoke to him, who would listen when he replied.
He drank ginger ale at first, but they stopped practicing and went downstairs where the bar was turning into an overflowing room of people drinking and dancing. Alice bought Elliot a drink and Elliot drank it: he’d had mead plenty of times before at Luke’s house, so he was perfectly able to handle it. He danced with her: with the whole group. The room was packed enough that it seemed like dancing with a hundred strangers.
“Whoa, you can dance,” said a voice in his ear. Elliot looked around and down at a touch that felt deliberate, and saw Jase’s barbed-wire-encircled fingers curled in the loop of his jeans. Then he looked up into Jase’s smiling face. “Enjoying yourself?”
Elliot smiled back, and Jase leaned in.
Even though he had loved Serene with all his heart for years, Elliot had thought occasionally: I might want to . . . and will I ever . . . ?