Happy (3 page)

left Vancouver; the rest—what would fit in boxes—had been shipped here

to the house he’d grown up in.

Somehow he’d thought that coming home would help mend his broken

heart, but he felt lonelier than ever. Like a guest in someone else’s home.

He’d quickly learned that once you’d left, you couldn’t go back, no matter

how much you might want to.

The house seemed particularly quiet and empty with his parents away

in Greece for the summer and his sister out with her boyfriend. He couldn’t

wait to start work on Monday, just so he would have something to do. He

needed to keep busy or the regrets might start creeping in.

Zelda, his four-year-old tabby, jumped up on the bed as if sensing

his thoughts. She immediately curled up on his chest and began purring

as Louie dug his fingers into her soft striped fur. “Did I make a mistake,

Zelda?” In response she rubbed her face on his knuckles and purred even

louder. She had never liked Aaron, scratching him whenever he got too

close. That should have been his first clue things wouldn’t last.

It had been seven months since he’d given Aaron the ultimatum

that broke them up. At first Louie had been hopeful he would see reason

Happy |
Chris Scully

14

and change his mind. After their years together he thought he deserved

something
. He needed to see Aaron was as invested as he was. But after

a few months of waiting around in vain, it was clear Aaron had made his

choice. By April, Louie knew there was nothing left for him in Vancouver.

If he stayed, he would only be tempted to run back to Aaron.

Once he’d made the decision, swinging the transfer from Vancouver to

Toronto had been simple; the travel agency he worked for was nationwide,

and openings were always popping up. He’d only had to cover the cost of

relocation himself. And while he’d left Vancouver with a heavy heart, he

knew he couldn’t stay there anymore. Not when he might run into Aaron at

any time or see his picture in the newspaper with yet another blonde model

on his arm.

Fuck that. Louie raised up on his elbows, dislodging Zelda. He had

the house to himself. Why was he moping when somewhere online there

was a hot video calling his name? His long-neglected dick perked up at

the thought, and he gave a halfhearted laugh. Ah, porn. Last refuge of the

lonely.Louie hopped up and set a disgruntled Zelda outside the bedroom

door. He stripped off his clothes and had just rearranged himself back on

the bed with his laptop open and ready to go, when his phone rang. He

hesitated, undecided. Porn or phone?

When he saw the caller was his sister, Demetra, the last of his libido

died. He knew he had to answer. “Can you go pick Peter up?” she asked

without preamble. “He’s drunk.”

“I thought
you
were with Peter.” She had been all dressed up when

she left the house earlier, so he had assumed they had a date. Louie hit the

Pause button on the computer screen so Demetra wouldn’t hear anything

she shouldn’t.

“Um. I’m not with Peter tonight.”

He had a bad feeling about this. He sighed. If there was one thing he

hated, it was lies. “What are you up to, Dee?”

“I’ll explain later, okay? Just do this for me, please?”

Louie gave his drooping penis an apologetic glance.
Looks like no

action for you tonight after all.

“Please, Louie,” Demetra begged.

“Fine.”

“I’ll text you the address. Oh, and if he asks, I’m in bed with a migraine.”

Happy |
Chris Scully

15

“What the hell, Dee? You don’t get… migraines,” he finished, even

though she’d already hung up on him. A minute later a text came through

with an address. He would demand an explanation in the morning. In the

meantime he had a drunk boyfriend to pick up.

Despite his initial annoyance, excitement fluttered in Louie’s chest

as he quickly got dressed and grabbed Demetra’s car keys off the table in

the foyer, and it had nothing to do with the reprieve from his temporary

boredom.

It had been twelve years since he’d seen Peter Georgiou, not counting

that brief encounter last week when Demetra had introduced him as her new

boyfriend. Louie hadn’t recognized him at first, but as soon as he made the

connection, he’d become almost as tongue-tied as he had been as a teenager.

All those jumbled feelings he’d struggled with then had come pouring back

and left him shaken. He hadn’t made the best impression. Peter had given

his hand a quick shake and then left with Demetra without a single sign of

recognition. Not that Louie had expected recognition. Peter had certainly

never noticed him all those years ago.

They had grown up only blocks apart in the predominantly Greek

neighborhood, and gone to the same church, the same Greek language

classes, the same schools. Peter had been the hottest boy in high school and

well aware of his status. Two years younger, Louie had been his constant

shadow, only Louie doubted Peter ever saw it. They never ran in the same

social circles. Louie chuckled now at the thought of how often he had staked

out the restaurant where Peter worked after school and on weekends.

He couldn’t deny he was the slightest bit jealous of his sister. His grin

faded as he drove. Finding out his sister was dating his first boy crush only

cemented his certainty that returning home after all this time had been a

mistake.

The address Demetra had given him wasn’t that far away, and at this

time of night, the drive didn’t take long. He slowed, searching for house

numbers in the dark as the GPS signaled his imminent arrival. Bingo. The

house was small and quaint. Cars lined the driveway and the front porch

light was on. Peter waited in the company of two men: one solidly built and

dark-haired, the other fair and on the slender side.

He parked across the driveway and left the car idling as he hopped out

and walked over. “Someone need a taxi?”

Happy |
Chris Scully

16

“Uh, Pete, your girlfriend’s not quite what I expected,” the fair-haired

man said with a touch of amusement.

“That’s her brother. What are you doing here?” Peter grumbled

belligerently as he tottered toward him. “Where’s Demetra?”

“Dee sent me. I guess she’s not feeling well enough to drive,” he lied.

Louie added a sardonic bow. “Your carriage awaits, milord.”

Peter brushed past him and climbed into the passenger seat without a

word. Louie followed, looking back to see Peter’s two friends still standing

on the porch with their arms around each other. He gave them a wave to say

he could handle it from here and slid behind the wheel.

Peter was quiet, his head propped against the window and his eyes closed

as Louie pulled out and headed home. The overpowering smell of beer and

cologne filled the small car, and Louie quickly lowered the window to let in some

fresh air. He cast a quick glance at his passenger. Alone with Peter Georgiou.

He willed his hammering heart to slow down. It wasn’t fair. He should have

outgrown this. He was nearly thirty, dammit, not some horny teenager with a

crush, and Peter was certainly no longer the hot high school senior.

“Good party?” he finally asked just to break the silence.

Peter grunted noncommittally. “They’re getting married,” he mumbled

a few minutes later.

“Who?”

“Joe and Adam.”

“Like, to each other?” Louie could only surmise Peter was referring to

the two men who had seen them off.

Peter swung his head in Louie’s direction. “You got a problem with that?”

Louie laughed. “God no. I think it’s great. I hope to do the same one day.

I just didn’t think you’d….” He stopped himself before he said something

offensive. In high school, Peter had seemed so macho, so quintessentially

Greek; Louie couldn’t quite imagine him mixing with his crowd. Then

again, were any of them the same people they’d been in high school?

He stopped at a traffic light and checked on his companion. Peter’s face

looked drawn, his eyes pools of darkness. He’d always had sad eyes—fringed

with thick black lashes. Soulful eyes, Louie used to call them. “You okay?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“Probably because you look like shit. You’re not going to hurl are

you? Do you need me to pull over? Demetra will be furious if you puke in

her car.”

Happy |
Chris Scully

17

“No. You’re safe.”

The thick mullet Louie had once fantasized running his fingers through

was gone, replaced by a severe shave that did nothing to hide Peter’s creeping

hairline; the athletic build Louie had secretly ogled in the locker room was

a little more solid now. Still, while the years might not have been entirely

kind to Peter, Louie couldn’t deny the man still did something for him.

Peter turned his head and caught him looking. “Do I know you from

somewhere?”

“How tanked
are
you? I’m Demetra’s brother, remember?”

“I know that. I mean I have this feeling like I’ve seen you before.”

Louie put his eyes back on the road when the car behind them honked

to alert him the light had changed. “I was two years behind you at Eastdale.

You were on the football team. I was on the pep squad.”

Peter was quiet for several seconds. Then he swung around in his seat.

“Oh my God, that was you? Cheerboy?”

The old nickname sent a chill up Louie’s spine. As the only male

member on the six-person squad, he’d received his share of jokes and name-

calling. Somewhere along the line, “cheerboy” had become “queerboy.”

That had been the worst. “Don’t call me that. And we were the pep squad,

not cheerleaders,” Louie corrected. “Go Goliaths,” he cheered weakly.

Peter’s deep laugh rumbled in the confines of the tiny car. “Ah, the

good old days when I had all my hair.” He rubbed his shaved scalp self-

consciously. “We gave you a pretty hard time, didn’t we?”

Louie shrugged. Kids could be vicious. But at least he couldn’t recall

Peter ever taking part in the teasing. That would have felt like a betrayal.

“I think we were just jealous of you,” he continued. “Getting to put

your hands up all those girls’ skirts.”

“Not really my thing. And what are you talking about? You’re the one

who kept breaking hearts. I was the one whose shoulder they cried on.”

“Why wasn’t it your thing?”

“Um, because I wasn’t into girls.” He smiled to himself. “Still not

into girls.”

Peter’s silence was damning. Louie risked a glance, and although

Peter’s face was in shadows, there was a tenseness about him that hadn’t

been there earlier. “Is that going to be a problem?” He repeated Peter’s

question from earlier.

“No. No, of course not. It’s just Demetra never said anything….”

Happy |
Chris Scully

18

Louie supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. “I’m the family secret. We

don’t really talk about it.”

“Is that why you moved to Vancouver? That’s where you were living,

right?”Louie was a little startled that Peter knew that much about him.

“Partly,” he replied. “It was best for everyone. Then after college I found

work out there.”
And Aaron
, he added silently.

Peter went back to staring out his window. Louie realized he’d been

driving without confirming his destination. “You still live with your parents,

right? On Durant?”

Peter snorted. “Yeah.”

“Demetra says you’re working at your parents’ restaurant.”

Another snort. “Yeah. Pop had a heart attack a couple of years ago. I

quit my job to help out. Good thing I spent all that time on my MBA.”

“Is he okay?”

“Oh yeah, he’s fine now.”

Peter leaned his head back against the window and closed his eyes. Louie

couldn’t tell if he was sleeping, or if he just wanted to be left alone. Either way,

Louie stopped talking, and they drove the rest of the way in silence.

He didn’t even need to ask Peter the house number—he recognized it

straightaway from all the times he’d oh-so-casually strolled by as a teenager,

hoping to catch Peter out front. A plain, brown-brick two-story perched

above a single-car garage. Even the old basketball net still hung above the

garage door—in tatters now and the hoop rusted, but still there. And in the

sloped driveway, Mr. Georgiou’s hulking white Cadillac sat rusting away

next to an almost-as-ancient black Impala. Peter had driven one just like it

in high school. Wow. Some things really never did change.

He waited for Peter to get out, but he didn’t stir. Louie tapped him on

the shoulder, and Peter bolted upright with a comical “Huh?”

“You’re home, sleeping beauty.”

“Oh.” Peter rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He stared out the window

but didn’t move.

“Do you need help?”

“No. No, I’m fine.” He sighed deeply and opened the door. “Thanks

for the ride,” he murmured.

Louie watched from the car as Peter wove his way down the driveway,

around his dad’s car, to the door beside the garage. Mounted over the door