I'm not much for bus rides. Never have been. But it is faster than walking, and suddenly it seemed important that we get to class as soon as we could. I'm not used to this feeling, this belonging thing. Even when Paul and me were together, it was more me living in his place, me doing what he wanted. There was no we. No us. Not like this.

Robert is such a fucking dreamer. He's the last person I expected to hook up with...but now I can't imagine him not being there. He's funny, and I never knew I liked funny, you know? He's hot, but lots of people are hot. That doesn't mean you want to live with them. And oh yeah...he doesn't expect anything from me.

Or at least he doesn't want to change me. Everyone I met before wanted me to be someone else. But Robert wants me. He loves me. Whoever that is.

Man, just the mention of love used to make me shake and head for the high road. But now...Jesus, I feel so fucking domestic. I want to make sure he eats. I want to go to bed with him at night and wake up next to him in the morning.

I haven't forgotten Paul. Not yet. But I don't think about him as much. And when I do...I think maybe he didn't treat me as well as I thought he did.

What am I saying? We argued. We fucked. He threw me out over and over again. I think he didn't love me. I think...maybe he never did.

But I loved him. He hurt me. With words. With his body. And yet...I didn't think I'd survive when he died. When he was murdered, I mean.

Damn. My head aches. Funny. Whenever I think about Paul, my head starts to pound like a crazy thing.

I don't remember much about the way he died. Just that someone shot him. Someone...I can't remember who...shot him. I remember shouting. I know I was there. When he died, I mean. I think I kissed him goodbye.

But I can't see who shot him.

It doesn't matter. That's what I keep telling myself. I have Robert. Things are different. I'm different.

Only I don't know why.

*****

"Whatcha thinking about so hard over there?" Robert asked me.

"Nothing." Suddenly I felt guilty. Like I'd lied or something. But I didn't. I swear. "I have a headache."

"Aww. Want me to rub your forehead for you?"

He was so nice. So damn nice. Almost all the time. Without even trying. I wanted to deserve him, but part of me felt like it'd gone missing. Part of me got lost, I think, when Paul died. What if I never got that back?

"Thanks," I answered shyly. Now there isn't a shy bone in my body, but around him, I was tongue-tied half the time. Me. Mr. I've-Got-A-Fucking-Answer-For-Everything.

*****

That was the last thing I remember before I woke up with my head on Robert's shoulder. "Umm...did I fall asleep?"

"Aye, but it's okay. I didn't mind," he said. He grinned at me and the dimple in his chin deepened. "How's your headache?"

"Better," I murmured. It was true. Robert had the power to heal me in more ways than one, I suspected.

We walked shoulder to shoulder to the campus. We were so desperate to touch each other, we kept bumping one another, like we suddenly forgot how to walk or something. I sighed. Lunchtime seemed a long, long time away.

"I'll come and get you at 1."

I nodded without saying a word. Suddenly I felt all shivery, like I was never going to see Robert again, and I had no idea what to do about it.

He ran the tips of his fingers over the back of my hand. He must have read my mind. He's like that. He forgets how tough I am. I had to be, just to survive on the streets. Still...I think there's a part of me that likes being taken care of by him. He makes me feel safe.

No, it's more than that. He makes me feel like he'd love me, even if he found out I had some dark, terrible secret.

But of course, I don't have one.

When Robert walked away, I just stood there, watching him go. We all have something we don't tell anyone. I swallowed hard, but the lump in my throat refused to go away. Sometimes...we don't even tell ourselves.

*****

I missed him. I was almost late to class because I couldn't seem to move from the spot where he'd left me. Only the bells chiming the half hour forced me to walk in the direction of the Performing Arts building.

I was so preoccupied that my professor threw a piece of chalk at me. "Are we boring you, Mr. Capelli?"

"N-no, sir," I answered. I wasn't playing at being a student. I really was. This was my second shot at having a life. If I couldn't get myself together, I was going to find myself bounced right out of the program.

Except for one thing. They thought I was really talented.

So did Jack. Maybe they knew something I didn't.

I took a sheet of paper out of my notebook and started to write. My stomach was in knots, but I didn't know why. So instead of taking notes, I began writing a new song.

Forty minutes later, I realized that I had somehow made it through the class. Not that I could remember any of it. I picked up my books and stood by the door, chewing my lip till it bled. It wasn't time to meet Robert. Not even close.

What was I going to do till he got here?

*****

I couldn't wait till lunchtime. I couldn't wait period. I just left him and I wanted to be with him. I've never felt like this before. It's like he's part of me, and when he's not there, I feel like there's something missing.

The teacher glared at me and I suddenly realized that he must have asked me something. Usually that would have embarrassed me. I'm always doing things like that.

My entire life I've been awkward and ill at ease with people. But this was the first time I didn't care. I had more important things on my mind and I knew it. I slowly rose to my feet and the teacher glanced at me questioningly. "Are you going somewhere, Mr. Lewis?"

"Umm...yeah. I just-I don't feel good. I might even be contagious. I think I'd better go-"

"By all means," he said frostily, indicating he didn't believe me for one second. I couldn't explain it if I tried, but suddenly I had a bad feeling about Bruno. I didn't know why, but all of a sudden, it was urgent that I found him.

So the teacher could look down his nose at me all he wanted. I knew where I needed to be. And it wasn't here.

It wasn't even 12 noon yet. Bruno was still in class. How was I going to explain pulling him out of there? Would he even go?

I ran across campus.

Then I stopped dead when I saw him. Framed in the doorway. He looked like he'd just lost his best friend.

"Bruno?"

All at once his eyes sharpened their focus, and I knew he'd seen me. "R-Robert?" His tongue flicked out to moisten his lips. I wanted to kiss him in the worst way, but this was way too public for either of us. I jerked my head to the side, indicating he should follow me, and he did. He caught up with me and slung his backpack over his shoulder with a heavy sigh.

"Something wrong?"

"Not now." He flashed me the barest glimmer of a smile, and I felt my heart clench. God, he was like a wounded bird sometimes, fluttering his wings against my cupped hands. I wanted to protect him from the world. But I had a feeling that whatever haunted him wasn't of this world, and it was only a matter of time before the two worlds collided.

Suddenly I didn't feel in the mood for playing dress-up in some fancy restaurant. I wanted to show him off, true, but that wasn't what he needed right now. He needed to relax. His muscles were drawn so tightly, they were pulling at his slender body and throwing it completely off-balance.

"Don't hate me, but...we can go out to eat some other time, okay?"

His light blue eyes softened, and I could feel the weight of that tender gaze all the way through to my soul. "I could never hate you, Robert," he whispered.

I smiled tentatively. "There's a carnival in the park a few streets over. I saw the advert on the wall outside my class. Wanna go?"

He shrugged. "Sure."

I clasped his hand in mine and hoped that this would cheer him up. But I didn't know, I couldn't ever really know, what was in his head or his heart. I believed that he loved me...but something still stood between us. Something with the capacity to break us apart.

I prayed that I wasn't making a mistake.

*****

The banners, the colors, the raucous noise of a thousand people laughing and talking and generally milling about all struck me at once. It had all the intensity of a thunderclap. It was exhilarating and totally excessive and I loved it. But I could feel Bruno shiver where my fingers touched his bare arm. "Are you cold?"

He shook his head. "Just excited."

"Good." That was a step in the right direction.

"Do you want something to eat?"

"Can I have a hot dog?" he asked eagerly, his beautiful face upturned like a child begging for a rare treat.

"Of course." I dug in my pockets for the money and ordered two hot dogs with everything on them. He bit into the hot dog, the mustard and the relish and the sauerkraut conspiring to smear themselves all over that full, sensual mouth, and I almost dropped my change.

"Jeez, you're a mess," I murmured, feeling a familiar twinge in my groin.

He smiled, and I couldn't help myself. I pulled him behind the little hot dog wagon and kissed him. Now I was full of mustard, too. I would have laughed at the delicious irony of it all, but he was staring at me with such rapture in his eyes. He bent his head and just when I thought he was going to kiss me back, he licked the mustard off the corner of my mouth. Slowly. The tip of his tongue was wet, and suddenly so was I. I shifted, uneasily aware that if anyone saw us, we were courting trouble.

"Umm..." Fancy that, a would-be writer at a chronic loss for words.

He poked the corner of my mouth with his fingertip, and I sighed in frustration. "We should-" I cleared my throat and began again. "We should try some of the rides," I said hoarsely.

"Yeah."

We blended in with the crowds surprisingly well. I don't know when we more or less decided that we weren't going back to school. But we did. We stopped in front of the Hall of Mirrors. "You want to go in?"

Bruno shrugged again. He seemed to be having a great time, but he was growing more and more silent as time went on. I didn't know what to make of that. But it worried me.

We went inside. I heard Bruno gasp. Directly in front of us was our mirror image, but completely distorted. He turned his head away, as if the very sight of us that way upset him. Noting that there was no one else nearby, I pulled him into my arms, and I felt him shudder as he buried his face against my chest. "It's nothing, baby. Just a trick. That's all."

"I don't like it," he said, his muffled voice still amazingly vehement.

"But-"

He broke away from me with a start and pleaded in a completely uncharacteristic tone, "Please...get me out of here."

"Okay," I agreed, feeling more than a little puzzled.

Once we were safely outside, he seemed like himself again. I asked him about his reaction, but he waved a hand at me. "Don't like mirrors, I guess."

Well...that definitely didn't clear things up. But I backed off.

We made our way to the games. "Ooh, I love these! Want me to win you a stuffed animal, Bruno?"

He gave me an enigmatic look. "What would I do with it?"

"I dunno," I said, blithely unaware that my words were hitting home. "You could sleep with it when I'm not there."

"Wh-when you're not there? Are you g-going away?" Leaving me? I could hear it as plain as if he'd actually said the words.

"No. Of course not. Why would I want to do that?"

He laughed, but I could tell he was forcing himself. His eyes had gone all fucking tragic again, and I had no idea what was going on. I think...no, I know, I was afraid to find out.

"We can give it a miss if you want-"

"No. I think I'll win you something."

I could feel my eyebrows rise into my hairline. "Really? You know how to shoot?"

He blinked, and something flickered in his eyes. Again, I couldn't read it, and that frustrated me no end.

"Yeah," he said finally. "I'm a pretty good shot."

I dunno why, but that scared the fuck out of me.

He paid for three shots. He aimed his gun at the bottles that were lined up and waiting...nearly six feet away. He got off all three rounds, one after the other, one, two, three...

It was eerie. The bottles dropped with a brittle sound. Like crystal.

Bruno didn't move. He seemed to be frozen in place, his hand wrapped around the gun, his eyes trained on something that I was sure wasn't really there.

The carnie pushed a huge plush striped tiger into my arms, and I stared at him blankly. "Tell the kid to gimme back the gun."

Bruno dropped the gun on the counter and glanced at me with bleak eyes. That was when he started to shake.

"Bruno..."

He opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was the abject howl of an animal in pain. The stuffed tiger fell from my nerveless fingers. I wrapped my arms around Bruno and pulled him away from the prying eyes of curious onlookers. I had no idea where I was going, but I blundered my way through the crowd, only aware of one thing, that  Bruno was sobbing.

When I found a relatively quiet place to hide, I sank to the ground with him clutching me for dear life. "Ssh, ssh, love..."I chanted in his ear, rocking him back and forth.

Suddenly I felt how wet his hair was beneath my cheek. That's when I realized that I was crying, too. Oh, God, I prayed, if you're out there...please help me. Help us both.

End