Setting The Wall Ch. 2/2

"Where did he go?" My voice was hoarse.

"Why the fuck do you care, Max? I thought you were done with him. With us. Gonna have a real life." The sarcasm was heavy, but underlying it was something I'd rather not face.

I shook my head, "Don't, okay? I know you don't like me very much. You-you probably have a good reason." I took a deep breath and decided to pretend this didn't bother me. "But I don't give a shit about how you feel about me, I'm only asking that, just this once, you give me a break and tell me where Dev went." I tried to fight it, but my shoulders started to shake and my eyes filled with tears. I dropped my head so the older man wouldn't see. Then I swallowed hard and forced the last word out of my mouth. "Please."

He was silent. It didn't surprise me. I guess I knew I didn't deserve anything more from him. I started to leave. Keith reached out and stopped me with a touch to my shoulder. I looked at his face, for the first time the mocking look was gone from his eyes.

"Give him a break, okay?" His voice was quiet, almost gentle.

It pissed me off. "Believe it or not, I'm not here to cause trouble."

"Maybe not," he agreed calmly, refusing to get pissy back, "and maybe I'm sticking my nose in where it has no business. But before you go running after Dev and make him forget about everything but the shape of your ass, I hope you'll think about what's best for him."

I felt my cheeks flush. "God, you really do hate me, don't you?"

Keith cocked an eyebrow at me and laughed softly. "I don't know you that well. Not likely to, either."

I could feel my face turning red. Damn, I so wanted away from him, but I couldn't go until I found something out. "Yeah, well, just give me Dev's new address and you won't have to ever know me better."

He shrugged. "I don't have it."

"Bullshit!"

"Think what you want." Keith made a production out of lighting another cigarette. "But I'm telling you, he doesn't have a place yet. This whole thing happened pretty quickly and there wasn't time."

"Okay," I bought it reluctantly, "then at least tell me where he's gone."

Keith blew a smoke ring and watched as it curled up and dissolved, then looked at me like he was surprised I was still there. Finally he sighed. "Las Vegas."

"What?" That wasn't the answer I was expecting.

"I said, Las Vegas. UNLV. School starts in a week. He couldn't make up his mind. Didn't even tell me about it until a month ago."

"You were still ahead of me." I said bitterly, and turned to leave.

"Jesus," Keith swore and I stopped in my tracks. "You're unbelievable, you know that? You think you have the right to be upset after what you've put that poor kid through?"

"Me?" I didn't need this shit and there was no way I was going to take if from this guy. "I didn't do anything to Dev that he didn't want as much as I did."

"Right," he snorted, "You're a damn saint. You didn't do shit. You came around here, shaking that tight little butt of yours, saying one thing, doing exactly the opposite. Making him think - hope-that maybe you'd change your mind. And then when you do, do you come to him? Call him? Say one goddamn word to him that tells him maybe you really do care a little bit about what he can give you besides a hard-on?" His eyes narrowed and he blew out a big stream of smoke. "Yeah, that's right. We knew what happened. Good news travels quick in this dumb ass town and bad news even faster."

I shook my head and tried to speak, but Keith wouldn't be interrupted.

"He waited you know. After Jesse came over and told him what happened. Ten days he waited. That's why everything was so rushed." Keith's voice was precise and cold. "All those messages on your answering machine. He would have gone to you, but he wanted to give you space. Didn't matter, he said, you'd call him. He really believed that." He shrugged. "I never did myself, but for his sake I wanted..." He stopped and stubbed out his cigarette. "Well, it doesn't matter now does it?"

"I didn't know." I thought of all the times I'd deleted messages without listening and felt like throwing up.

"Like I said," his shoulders sagged and now he didn't look mad, only tired, "it doesn't matter anymore."

He turned and walked back into his house. I stumbled off the porch and found my way to my car more by luck than anything else. I was on automatic pilot, too obsessed with the words going around and around in my head. Dev had waited for me. And I, selfish to the end, hadn't even thought about what he might be going through. Jesus.

I guess I could make an argument for myself; say I was so traumatized that I wasn't thinking rationally. But it would just be another lie. I'd thought about calling Dev, but I'd put it off because I didn't feel like dealing with him right then. All I wanted was a big ass pity party and it wasn't till I'd indulged myself that I'd come to see him. It had never occurred to me that he might have other plans, that his life might have some options in it that didn't include me.

Somehow I made it back home. I stumbled into the kitchen and grabbed my new best friend, Johnny Walker. I didn't even bother with a glass, but when the liquor hit my mouth I gagged and spit it out in the sink. I put the bottle down. This time, I didn't think it was going to help me with this last blow to my psyche.

I walked into the living room. The boxes I'd packed so many weeks ago still sat there. I was tempted to load them into my car and just drive away. A new start in a new town, maybe some place with some life. Some place like Vegas.

The answering machine was blinking. The calls had died off in the last week. I'd still not answered them of course and had been routinely hitting the delete button before a voice could be heard. I wondered what I'd have heard if I hadn't done that. I wondered if it would have made any difference.

Now there was one message. I reached over and punched the play button. I was going to delete this one too, after all what was the point? My finger stopped an inch above the button though and I felt sick as I heard the voice on the tape.

"Max, it's Dev again. I don't know why I'm calling you like this. God knows you don't seem to want to talk to me. I, I guess I just need to finish this. I promise though, I won't bother you again."

I winced, but I couldn't blame him for thinking that.

"Anyway, this is goodbye in more ways than one. I'm moving. Going out to Las Vegas can you believe it? And no, not to play black jack, I got accepted in the grad program there at UNLV. I'm going to finish up my MS and then maybe go straight for a PhD. I don't know for sure yet if I'll be able to swing that financially, but that's the plan."

He laughed a little sadly.

"Course it may end up being a total bust and next week I'll be back at The Station warming up my favorite stool but, I just wanted to tell you in case this does work out and you ever wonder what happened to me. "

I looked longingly at the kitchen and wished I'd brought the bottle into the living room with me. Dev kept on speaking into the tape.

"Max..."

His voice cracked, but he cleared it and calmly continued.

"Max, I want to tell you something. I realize now that regardless of how I felt about you, it wasn't the same on your side. That's okay by the way, I've dealt with it. But I wanted you to know that I still hope that someday you find somebody and that when you do, you'll tear down that wall you were always going on about. I mean it's great to say it's a way to not get hurt, but Jesus, isn't it lonely?"

He stopped talking and the machine clicked off.

I sat there for a long time in that quiet room. It was the middle of the afternoon and everybody in my building seemed to be at work or school. The stillness was complete. Even my tears were silent.

"So how about that one?" Jesse leaned over me and practically purred as he looked at the stud muffin with the long blond hair not six feet away from us.

"He's hot," I agreed. "You should go for him."

Jesse's frown was apparent even in the poor light around the bar. "I didn't mean for me. I meant for you."

"Nah, I'm not in the mood. Besides," I winked, "it's not my ass he's been checking out every time I lean over the bar to filch an orange wedge."

"I told you I didn't get time to eat dinner." Jesse's answer was prompt, but his attention and his eyes were on Surfer Boy. "You really mean it. He's been looking at my ass?"

"Cross my heart."

Jesse smiled at me nervously then turned and started to walk towards his night's desire. He stopped and glanced back at me with a wink and a grin and I laughed back. But my smile didn't last as long as it took him to turn around. I was bored and I wondered what the hell I was doing there again for the fourth night in a row. Of course I knew the answer to that, but sometimes it's easier to pretend.

It's been six months since that final message on my answering machine. A lot has changed, but a lot hasn't. Tess hasn't spoken to me since I told her I was gay and my Dad still has a hard time meeting my eyes. Still, I went back to work and they didn't give a rat's ass about my sexual preferences as long as I kept selling houses. I made some new friends to make up for the ones I lost and some of the people who'd stopped talking to me started again.

Pete is still around, though it's awkward and I rarely see him. He started dating Tess a couple of months ago. Not exactly a big surprise I guess, but for obvious reasons, we aren't as close as we once were.

Dev never called again and after a couple of sleepless nights, I decided Keith was right and that I should give him a break and let him go. He does keep in contact with Jesse, who tells me he's doing fine and loves the hot winters. Jess doesn't elaborate and I don't push it either. I know it's for the best, but I kept that last message tape and I have to confess, I've listened to it more than once.

I spend a lot of time at The Station these days. Why not? I have nothing to hide. I sit at the bar and watch the parade of men who walk past me and I admit I'm tempted. Sometimes I don't fight it either.

I tell myself this is healthy. That it would be stupid not to try and get on with things. But somehow I always end up regretting it. The sex may be great, but afterwards most of them are as eager to split as I used to be and the ones that aren't make me want to run. Seems like nobody has much of a taste for after-sex caramel corn either.

So most of the time I restrain myself. I sit on Dev's old stool and I watch the bartender, Neal, and the smooth way he has of pouring bourbon and sympathy into his customers. I nod to the other regulars who acknowledge me now that they know I'm not just slumming, and I laugh with Jesse and assure him that blue really is his color. I even have a sort of wary friendship with Keith; though I think that surprises us both and we'd die before we'd admit it to each other.

But mainly I study the door, waiting for a tall guy with black curly hair and blue eyes so warm they could melt the filings in your teeth to walk in. Night after night, I wait for him to come back. It doesn't seem to matter that I know he never will.