Dissonance (36 page)

“Two hundred,” the clerk said.

Cam smiled and pulled out his wallet and handed the man two hundred-dollar bills. The clerk pulled out what looked like a felt-tipped pen and touched it to each of the bills. A month before, Cam might have enjoyed commenting about the authenticity of the bills, but instead he took the pen from the box and slipped it into his jacket without a word. When he stepped out of the shop and into the street, he pressed his hand to his heart and felt the pen there.

He remembered Galen’s words:
“Sometimes it just takes time to see the right path.”
He smiled.

Outside, the snow had finally begun to stick to the sidewalk. The city was beautiful like this. He’d just never noticed.

B
Y
THE
time Cam headed down the steps to the 42nd Street station an hour later, it was a little after two o’clock. The snow now fell faster, clinging to his hair and jacket. Just a month before, he’d have run for cover. Today he looked up and opened his mouth to capture a bit on his tongue. And he laughed when he did.

He heard the music before he’d made it down the steps. Galen, in his usual spot, facing away from him. Cam paused and leaned against the concrete wall. Watching. Listening. A few girls exited the turnstiles, giggling, oblivious to the music. A mother coaxed her young son underneath the turnstile as he cried that he wanted to ride the train again. An old woman pulled a metal basket on wheels through the handicapped exit, then paused to listen. He watched as she closed her eyes and listened to Galen play “Summertime,” from
Porgy and Bess
. When the music finished, she fished around in her purse and pulled a dollar out, then set it carefully in the trumpet case. She smiled, and Cam knew Galen had smiled at her in thanks even though he couldn’t see Galen’s face. She was gone a moment later.

“In the subway, I can love the music without all the bullshit,”
he could hear Galen say. He hadn’t understood it then. He wasn’t sure he understood it now. But he was trying to understand.

He walked past the ticket booth and into Galen’s line of sight. His heart beat faster when Galen’s eyes grew wide. If he hadn’t had the mouthpiece pressed to his lips, he’d have been smiling, judging by the way the lines around his eyes deepened and his cheeks moved upward.

Galen finished the piece he’d been playing
—
“Blue Moon”
—
but he didn’t speak. Instead, he took a slow breath and began to play again. It took Cam a minute to realize what piece he played: the Rachmaninoff
Vocalise
. Cam swallowed hard and forced a smile. One of the first pieces Galen had ever played for him.

The music ended and Galen let the trumpet come to rest at his side in his right hand.
Concert’s over.
A train pulled into the station, causing the floor to vibrate. Why did Cam barely hear it?
“Silence is a conversation too,”
Galen had once said. He’d been right, only this time the silence made Cam ache.

“I’ve done a shitty job at asking for what I want,” Cam said when he couldn’t stand it anymore. “Everything I’ve gotten has come to me, good and bad. I never looked for any of it.” He pressed his lips together for a moment. “You taught me that if I wanted my life to be different, I had to go after what I wanted.”

“Cam, I—”

“Don’t say it. Because it’s bullshit.” Cam shifted his weight and shoved his hands into his pockets. “You taught me well. The problem is that I’m too good a student. I learned about more than just me. I learned about you too.”

The sound of brakes screeching from one of the platforms made Cam wince. This time he heard every bit of it. He waited until it left. No—he waited until the silence returned. It was different somehow. He’d needed a moment to think. Galen had taught him that too: sometimes you need to take a minute and process what life throws at you.

“You lied when you said it didn’t matter if I slept with Bill.” Cam inhaled slowly and his shoulders relaxed. “I
wanted
you to care, Galen. I figured if I fucked him, I wouldn’t have to make the decision about letting you go. You’d make it for me, like every other person I’ve cared about. So I went back to his place.

“But I realized that fucking him was my choice. I didn’t have to. Even though you said you didn’t want a long-term relationship, I had a choice. I could sleep with him and give you the excuse you needed. I could go on telling myself I was a worthless, damaged piece of shit who nobody wanted. Or I could turn around and choose you. Convince you that you want to be with me.” Cam smiled and glanced down at the trumpet case, then back up at Galen to meet his gaze.

“You’re a good teacher,” he continued, “but you’ve got one little secret you don’t tell your students. You’re scared. You’re afraid of hurting again because you’re scared you won’t survive it this time. I know what that feels like.”

Galen’s lips parted, but he said nothing. Cam knew he was right about this. He knew that fear. He’d tried to kill himself twice, even though he’d pretended the first time had been something else. He’d been desperate to end the pain. But he’d survived it. He knew he could survive it again—even if it was the pain of Galen’s rejection. For everything he understood, Galen had never taken a chance. He’d lived his life helping others but never really putting himself out there to be hurt. Admitting that he cared about someone—that he
loved
them—meant risking pain again.

The silence stretched, punctuated by another train arriving and the sound of passengers coming through the turnstiles.

“I care about you, Cam,” Galen said after the silence returned.

“I know.” Cam pulled a hand out of his pocket, palming the leather bracelet he’d been fingering the past few minutes. The silver charms warmed to his touch.

Hope. Healing. Love.

“You’ve given me each of these,” he said as he set the bracelet in the trumpet case alongside the coins and bills. “I want to give them back to you.” He backed away, took a few steps, then stopped and turned around. Saying it wouldn’t make Galen’s rejection hurt more. He knew that now. He’d hurt a long time, but he’d survive.

He took a moment to let his emotions wash over him like a wave buffeting a stone on the sand. Galen had taught him how to appreciate his feelings without being ruled by them. The knowledge that he’d learned this empowered him. Gave him strength to say what he knew he had to say. “I love you, Galen. But it’s
your
turn to answer the question you asked me weeks ago: Where do you need to be?”

He saw surprise flash bright in Galen’s eyes, in spite of Galen’s silence. “When you’re ready, Galen, I’ll be waiting.” He turned and walked toward the tunnels and the Lexington Avenue trains.

The sound of screeching brakes echoed off the concrete walls. The scent of dust and people and worse mingled with the cold air from outside. Cam smiled. He loved the subway.

G
ALEN
DIDN
’
T
care that several people were waiting for him to start playing again, and had seen all of what had just transpired. Still holding his trumpet, he bent down and retrieved the bracelet from the case. He fingered the charms.
Hope. Healing. Love.

He swallowed hard as he realized why Cam had given the bracelet back to him: Cam didn’t need it anymore. Didn’t need the shoulder. Didn’t need the sympathy. Didn’t need a reason to wake up in the morning except that he wanted to wake up.

He hesitated just a moment, then shouted, “I’ll be back!” as he sprinted toward the tunnel where Cam had disappeared. He held his trumpet in one hand, the bracelet in the other.

He got to the top of the first steps, ignored the burn of his lungs from the exertion, then looked around, desperate to find Cam. He finally spotted him headed toward the longer tunnel leading to the Lexington Avenue platforms. Galen ran, darting around the pedestrians, nearly colliding with several before reaching the stairs.

Uptown or Downtown?
Uptown. Cam lived Uptown, near Central Park, didn’t he? Galen kicked himself for never having asked. He took the steps to the platform two at a time and arrived just in time to see a train pull away from the station.

Fuck!
His own stubborn, stupid fault! He struggled to catch his breath, then turned to head back upstairs when he noticed someone seated on the bench at the end of the platform. Cam.

“Cam!” he shouted over the sound of a downtown train. “Cam!”

Cam turned the second time Galen called his name. His lips parted and he looked momentarily confused, his eyes widening as he saw Galen running toward him.

“I… I’m… I’m sorry….” Galen gasped as he leaned over and tried to catch his breath. He’d forgotten he was still carrying the trumpet in his left hand. The metal charms on the leather bracelet pressed into his skin. A reminder of what he needed to say.

“What?”

“I’m sorry.” Beads of sweat ran down Galen’s spine. He pushed away the hair that had fallen into his eyes.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Cam pressed his lips together the way he did when he was trying to hide his emotions.

“Yes. I do. And I need to explain.”

“Explain? Explain what?” Cam frowned and eyed him warily.

“Oh, fuck,” Galen growled under his breath. “I’m screwing this all up.” He glanced down at his feet, back at Cam, shifted his weight a few times, then shook his head. “This whole thing got away from me,” Galen began after another pause. When Cam met his gaze with obvious confusion, Galen repeated, “I’m screwing this all up.”

Cam grinned. “Deep breath. Focus. Have a seat?” Cam combed his fingers through his hair. His beautiful, soft, curly hair. Different from the controlled way he’d worn it before.

Galen smiled and nodded, taking a seat next to Cam on the bench. “It was a cop-out for me to blame you for not asking about me,” he said. “And I lied. I wouldn’t have told you if you’d asked. I didn’t want anyone to know.
I
didn’t want to remember some of it.”

“Fair enough.”

Galen drew a long breath, then haltingly told Cam about his last days as a professional musician. About the times he’d wanted to hide in his dressing room, and the way the panic began to eat away at the joy of performing.

“Music was everything to me.” Galen clenched his jaw, then released the tension there. “But somewhere along the way, it all got to me. Performing. The pressure to be perfect.” He laughed bitterly and shook his head. “I did that part to myself. I know that now.” He paused and met Cam’s eyes, finding the courage to continue in the sympathetic, loving look he found there.

“I lost my love of music. I knew I was letting everyone down. I was convinced of it. So I decided if I just went away… if I ended it….”

Cam put his hand on Galen’s thigh. Galen fought the urge to close his eyes. Every night since he’d left London, he’d dreamed of Cam holding him. He’d missed Cam more than he thought he would. How had he thought he could just go back to his old life after Cam?

“My parents were there for me. They’d always supported me. I knew people gossiped about me. Bad enough that I’d always been a bit of a joke, but now I was committed to a psychiatric facility. I felt guilty. I wanted to get the hell out of there, because I knew how hard it must be for them.” Galen watched a train pull out of the station, speeding up until he couldn’t focus on the windows of the cars anymore.

“I pretended I was fine.” He laughed softly and shook his head. “And I convinced the doctors I was ready to go home. I think I even convinced myself. But really, I was still a mess.”

Cam squeezed Galen’s thigh reassuringly. “You told me you took me home because you wanted to pay forward something someone else did for you years ago.”

“It’s true. Well, mostly.” Galen pushed his hair from his eyes again.
Breathe. Focus. Relax.
“There was someone… but it was a long time ago. His name was Brian. He was older. Late twenties. I met him through a program when I was at the hospital. A mentor sort of thing. Once I could go on supervised visits outside—after they figured I’d had enough of trying to hurt myself—he took me. We had so much fun going to the movies, hanging out at the mall…. It didn’t really matter, because everything we did together was so much better than being at the hospital.

“And one day I did something stupid.”
Breathe. Focus. Relax
. He could do this. He
had
to do this. “I kissed him. And he kissed me back. I think he liked it too. But after that, he stopped coming. I didn’t understand then, but I know now he couldn’t come anymore, that we’d crossed a line and that I’d lost him. I thought I loved him, and when he disappeared….

“A few years later, I looked him up,” Galen continued. “But he was in a relationship. He was very kind about it all, but he told me that I’d fixated on him because he’d been the one to show me how to live again.” Galen leaned back in his seat and slipped one leg underneath him, as he’d done so many times before when they’d sat like this, just talking. “I told him he was wrong. That I still loved him and that I needed him. But he sent me on my way. He was kind but firm.”