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Slight warning: Minor cussing (thanks to a rebellious Joey in the past)-act your age people, not your shoe size.
Chapter 7
Seto
As I settle down to the mountain of work on my desk, Coco lets out a sigh. He's asleep, curled like a braided rug to the right of my desk. His paw twitches.
Dat's da life, he said to me as we watched a puppy chase its own tail. Dat's what I want ta be next.
I had laughed. Of course you would be a puppy. You're so gullible to keep chasing after something when it's unattainable, I told him. They don't need anyone else.
I need you, he replied.
Well, I said. Maybe I'll come back as a chew toy.
I press my thumbs into the balls of my eyes. Clearly I am not getting enough sleep; first there was that moment at the coffee shop, now this. I scowl at Coco, as if it's his fault, and then focus my attention on some notes I've made on a legal pad. New client-a drug dealer caught by the prosecution on videotape. There's no way out of a conviction on this one, unless the guy has an identical twin his mother kept quiet about.
Which, come to think of it...
The door opens, and without glancing up I fire a directive at Julie. "See if you can find some Jenny Jones transcript about identical twins who don't know that they-"
"Hello, Seto."
I am going crazy; I know that I'm definitely going crazy. Because not five feet away from me is Joey Wheeler, whom I haven't seen in about five years. His hair is shorter now, and he still has dimples on those cheeks of his. "Joey." I manage.
He closes the door, and at the sound, Coco jumps to his feet. "I'm da guardian ad litem assigned ta Yugi Mutou's case," he says.
"The United States is a big place... I never thought that I would... Well, I though for sure we'd run into each other much later in life, or even before now."
"It's not dat hard ta avoid someone, when ya wanna." He answers. "I mean, you of all people should know." Then, all of a sudden, the anger seems to steam out of him. "I'm sorry... Dat was totally uncalled for."
"It's been a long time," I simply reply, when what I really want to do is ask him what he's been doing for the past five years. If he still drinks tea with milk. If he's happy. "Your hair isn't a dirty blond anymore." I utter simply because I'm an idiot.
"No, it's not," He replies. "Is dat a problem?"
I shrug. "It's just, well..." Where are words, when you need them? "I liked it." I confess.
"It tends ta take away from my appearance in a courtroom." Joey admits.
This makes me smile. "Since when do you care what people think of you?"
He doesn't respond, but something changes. The temperature of the room, or maybe the wall that comes up in his eyes. "Maybe instead of draggin' up da past, we should talk 'bout Yugi," he suggests diplomatically.
I nod. But it feels like we are sitting on the tight bench of a bus with a stranger right between us, one that neither of us is willing to admit to or mention, and so we find ourselves talking around him and through him and sneaking glances when the other isn't looking. How am I suppose to think about Yugi Mutou when I'm wondering whether Joey has ever woken up in someone's arms and for just a moment, before the sleep cleared from his mind, thought it might have been me?
Sensing tension, Coco gets up and stands beside me. Joey seems to notice that we're not alone and is amused. "Your partner?"
"Only an associate," I say. "But he made Law Review." His fingers scratch Coco behind the ear-that goddamn lucky dog-and grimacing, I ask him to stop. "He's a service dog. He isn't suppose to be petted."
Joey looks up, surprised. But before he could ask, I turn the conversation. "So, Yugi." Coco pushes his nose into my palm.
He folds his arms. "I went ta see him."
"And?"
"Fifteen-year-olds are heavily influenced by their parents. And Yugi's mother seems convinced dat dis trial isn't gonna happen. I have a feelin' she might be tryin' to convince Yugi of dat, too."
"I can take care of that." I say as Joey crosses his arms.
"How?"
"I'll get Michelle Mutou removed from the house."
His jaw drops. "You're kiddin', right?"
By now, Coco has started pulling my clothes in earnest. When I don't respond, he barks a couple times. "Well, I certainly don't think my client ought to be the one to move out. He hasn't violated the judge's orders. I'll get a temporary restraining order keeping Michelle Mutou from having any contact with him."
"Seto, dat's his mother!"
"This week, she's opposing counsel, and if she is prejudicing my client in any way she needs to be ordered not to do so."
"Your client has a name, and an age, and a world that's fallin' apart-da last thing he needs is more instability in his life. Have ya even bothered ta get ta know him?"
"Of course I have." I lie as Coco begins to whine at my feet.
Joey glances down at him. "Is somethin' wrong with your dog?"
"He's fine. Look. My job is to protect Yugi's legal rights and win the case, and that's exactly what I'm going to do."
"Of course ya are. Not necessarily 'cause it's in Yugi's best interests...but 'cause it's in yours. How ironic is it dat a kid who wants to stop being used for another person's benefit winds up pickin' your name outta da Yellow Pages?"
"You don't know anything about me," I say, my jaw tightening.
"Well, whose fault is dat?"
So much for not bringing up the past. A shudder runs the length of me and I grab Coco by the collar. "Excuse me," I say, and I walk out the office door, leaving Joey for the second time in my life.
When you get right down to it, The Domino School was a factory, pumping out debutantes and future investment bankers. We all looked alike and talked alike. To us, summer was a verb.
There were students, of course, who broke that mold. Like the scholarship kids, who wore their collars up and learned to row, never realizing that all along we were well aware that they weren't one of us. There were the stars, like Makato Urahara, who was drafted by the best lawfirms in Domino City in his junior year. Or the head cases that try to kill themselves, or mix booze and Valium and then left campus just as silently as they had once wandering around it.
I was a Senior the year that Joey Wheeler came to Domino. He wore boots and a cheap T-shirt underneath his school blazer; he was able to memorize entire sonnets without breaking a sweat. During free periods, while the rest of us were messing around behind the headmaster's back, he climbed the stairs to the ceiling of the gymnasium and sat with his back amongst a heating vent. He read books by Henry Miller and Nietzsche, unlike the other guys in this school, with their cocky attitudes and long hair, his was very short and blond. He also had sharp features that can make even girls and guys turn around.
There were rumors about him: that he'd been booted out of a boy's reform school; that he was some super intelligent kid with a perfect PSAT score; that he was two years younger than all of us in our grade; that he had a tattoo; that he was gay. Nobody quite knew what to make of him. They call him Freak because he wasn't one of us.
One day Joey Wheeler arrived at school with dirty blond hair. We all assumed he'd be suspended, but it turned out that in the litany of rules about what one had to wear at Domino, coiffure was conspicuously absent. It made me wonder why there wasn't a single guy in the school with dreadlocks, and I realized it wasn't because we couldn't stand out. It's because we didn't want to.
At lunch that day, he passed the table where I was sitting with a bunch of guys on the Polo team and some of their girlfriends.
"Hey," One girl uttered, "did it hurt?"
Joey slowed down. "Did what hurt?"
"Falling into shit."
He didn't even blink. "Sorry, I can't afford ta get my hair done at Wash, Cut and Blow Jobs 'R' Us." Then he walked off to the corner of the cafeteria where he always ate by himself, playing solitaire with a deck of cards.
"Holy cow." One of my friends said. "That's one guy I would not mess with."
I laughed, because everyone else did. But I also watched him sit down, push the tray of food away from him, and begin to lay cards down. I wondered what it would be like to not give a damn about what people thought of you.
One afternoon, I went AWOL on the Polo team where I was captain and started to follow him. I made sure to stay far enough behind that he wouldn't see me. He headed down Blackburn Avenue, turned into Hikari Point Cemetery, and climbed to the highest point. He opened his knapsack, took out his textbooks and binder, and spread himself in front of a grave. "Ya might as well come out," He said then, and I nearly swallowed my tongue, expecting a ghost, until I realized he was talking to me. "If ya pay an extra quarter, ya can even stare up close."
I stepped out from behind a big oak tree, my hands dug into my pockets. Now that I was there, I had no idea why I'd come. I nodded toward the grave. "Someone you know?"
He looked over his shoulder. "Yep. My grandpa had the seat right next to him on the Mayflower." He stared at me, all right angles and edges. "Don't ya have some sailin' team ta go ta?"
"Polo." I said, breaking a smile. "I'm just waiting for my horse to get here." He didn't get the joke...or maybe he didn't find it as funny as I did.
"What do ya want?"
I couldn't admit that I was following him. "Help." I uttered. "Homework."
In truth I had not looked over out English assignment. I grabbed a piece of paper on top of his binder and read aloud: You came across a horrible four-car accident. There are people moaning in pain, and bodies strewn all over the place. Do you have an obligation to stop?
"Why should I help?" He said.
"Well, legally, you shouldn't. If you pull someone out and hurt them more, you could get sued."
"I meant why should I help you. Last I heard, ya got a top grade in a few of your classes."
The paper floated to the ground. "You don't think very much of me, do you?"
"I don't think about any of ya, period. You're a bunch of superficial idiots who wouldn't be caught dead with someone who's different from ya'll."
"Isn't that what you're doing, too?"
He stared at me for the longest time. Then he started stuffing his backpack. "You've got a trust fund, don'tcha? If ya need help, go pay a tutor."
I put my foot down on top of a textbook. "Would you do it?"
"Tutor ya? Hell no."
"Stop. At the car accident."
His hands stopped moving. "Yeah. 'Cause even if da law says dat no one is repsonsible for anyone else, helpin' someone who needs it is da right thing ta do."
I sit next to him, close enough that the skin of his arm hummed right next to mine. "Do you really believe that?"
He looked down at his lap. "Yep."
"Then how," I asked, "can you walk away from me?"
Afterward, I wipe my face with paper towels from the dispenser and fix my tie again. Coco pads in tight circles beside me, the way he always does. "You did great." I tell him, patting the thick ruff of his neck.
When I get back into my office, Joey is gone. Julie is sitting at the computer in a rare moment of productivity, typing. And I was going to fire her tomorrow. Never mind. "He said that if you needed him, you could damn well come find him. His words, not mine. Oh, and he asked for all the medical records." Julie glances over her shoulder at me. "You look like crap."
"Thanks." An blue Post-it on her desk catches my attention. "Is there where he wants the records sent?"
"Yes."
I slip the address into my pocket. "I'll take care of it." I say.
A couple weeks later, in front of the same grave, I unlaced Joey Wheeler's boots. I peeled away his school's jacket. His feet were narrow and as pink as the inside of a tulip, also they were very small. His collarbone was a mystery. "I knew that you were beautiful under there," I murmured in his ear and lean down to his neck, the very first spot on him that I kissed.
The Mutou's live in Upper Roseburg, in a house that could belong to any typical American family. Two-car garage; aluminum siding; even a white picket fence. By the time I get there, the sun is setting behind the roofline.
The whole drive over, I've tried to convince myself that what Joey said has absolutely no bearing on why I've decided to visit my client. That I was always planning to take this little detour before I headed home for the night.
But the truth is, in all the years I've been practicing, this is the first time I've paid a house call.
Yugi opens the door when I ring the bell. "What are you doing here?"
"Checking up on you."
"Does that cost extra?"
"No," I dryly say. "It's part of a special promotion I'm doing this month."
"Oh." He crosses his arms. "Have you talked to my mom?"
"I'm trying my best not to. I assume she's not home?"
Yugi shakes his head. "She's at the hospital. Yami got admitted, again. I thought you might have gone over there."
"Well, Yami's not my client."
This actually seemed to disappoint him. He tucks his bangs behind his ears. "Did you, like, want to come in?"
I follow him into the living room and sit down on the couch, a palette of sky blue and white stripes. Coco sniffs the edges of the furniture. "I heard you met the guardian ad litem."
"Joey. He took me to the zoo. He seems all right." His eyes dart to mine. "Did he say something about me?"
"He's worried that your mother might be talking to you about this case."
"Other than Yami," Yugi murmurs, "what else is there to talk about?"
We stare at each other for a moment. Beyond a client-attorney relationship, I am at a loss.
I could ask to see his room, except that there's no way in hell any male defense attorney, who's actually bisexual, would go upstairs alone with a fifteen-year-old boy. I could take him out to dinner, but I doubt he'd appreciate Cafe Luana, one of my favorite haunts, and I don't think he could stomach a Whopper. I could ask him about school, but it isn't in session.
"Do you have kids?" Yugi asks.
I chuckle. "What do you think?"
"It's probably a good thing," He admits. "No offense, but you don't exactly look like a parent."
This interests me. "I do have a little brother. But, besides that, what do parents look like?"
He seems to think about this. "You know how the tightrope guy at the circus wants everyone to believe his act is an art, but deep down you can see that he's really just hoping he makes it all the way across? Like that." He glances at me. "You can relax, you know. I'm not going to tie you up and make you listen to rap."
"Oh, well," I start to joke. "In that case." I loosen up my tie and sit back on the pillows.
It makes a smile dart briefly across his face. "You don't have to pretend to be my friend or anything."
"I don't want to pretend." I run my hand through my hair. "The thing is, this is new to me."
"What is?"
I gesture around the living room. "Visiting a client. Shooting the breeze. Not leaving a case at the office at the end of the day."
"Well, this is new to me, too." Yugi confesses.
"What is?"
He twists a strand of hair around his pinky. "Hoping." He simply says.
The part of town where Joey's apartment is located is an a very upscale area with a reputation for divorce bachelors, a point that irritates me the whole time I'm trying to find a parking spot. Then, the doorman takes one look at Coco and stops me. "No dogs allowed." He says. "Sorry."
"This is a service dog." When that doesn't seem to ring a bell, I spell it out for him. "You know. Like Seeing Eye."
"You don't look blind."
"I'm a recovering alcoholic," I tell him. "The dog gets between me and a beer."
Joey's apartment is on the eighth floor. I knock on the door and then see an eye checking me out through the peephole. He opens it a crack, but leaves the chain in place. He has a handkerchief wrapped around his head and looks like he's been crying.
"Hi." I say. "Can we start over?"
He wipes his nose. "Who the hell are you?"
"Okay, maybe I deserve that." I glance at the chain. "Let me in, will you?"
He gives me a look, like I'm crazy or something. "Are you on crack?"
I blink as I listen to the voice. There's no slang at all in his voice... There is a scuffle, and another voice, and then the door opens wide and I stupidly think: There are two of him. "Seto? What are ya doin' here?" The real Joey asks as I gulp.
I hold up the medical records, still getting over the shock. How the hell is it that he never managed to mention, that entire year at Domino, having a twin?
"Jono, this is Seto Kaiba. Seto, this is my brother."
"Seto..." I watch Jono turn my name over on his tongue. At second glance, he really looks nothing like Joey at all. His nose is a little shorter, his hair is much longer than Joey's, and he's more tan than Joey. Not to mention the fact that watching his mouth doesn't make me hard. "Not the Seto?" He asks, turning to Joey. "From..."
"Yeah, da same one." He sighs.
Jono's glare hardens on me. "I knew I shouldn't let him in."
"It's fine," Joey assures, and he takes the files from me. "Thanks for bringin' me dese."
Jono wags his finger at me. "Now, you can leave."
"Stop." Joey swats his brother's arm. "Seto's da attorney I'm workin' with dis week."
"But wasn't he the guy who-"
"Yes, thanks, I have a fully functionin' memory."
"So!" I interrupt. "I stopped off at Yugi's house."
Joey turns to me. "And?"
"Earth to Joey," Jono says. "This is self-destructive behavior!"
"Not when it involves a paycheck, Jono. We have a case together, dat's it. Okay? And I really don't feel like bein' lectured by you 'bout self-destructive behavior. Who called Seth for a mercy fuck da night after he dumped ya?"
"Hey." I turned to Coco. "How about those Wildcats?"
Jono stomps down the hall. "It's your suicide," He yells, and then I heard a door slam.
"I think he really likes me," I say, but Joey doesn't crack a smile.
"Thanks for da medical records. See ya!"
"Joey-"
"Hey, I'm just savin' ya da trouble. It must've been hard trainin' a dog to drag ya outta a room when ya need rescuin' from some emotionally volatile situation, like an old boyfriend who's tellin' da truth. How does it work, Kaiba? Hand signals? Word commands? A high-pitched whistle?"
I look wistfully down the empty hallway. "Can I have Jono back instead?"
Joey tries to push me out of the door.
"Alright. I'm sorry. I didn't mean ta cut ya off today in da office, but... It was an emergency." He stares at me. "What did ya say da dog's for?"
"I didn't." When he turns, Coco and I follow him deeper into the apartment, closing the door behind us. "So, I went to see Yugi Mutou. You were right-before I took out a restraining order against his mother, I needed to talk to him."
"And?"
I think back to the two of us, sitting on that striped couch, stretching a web of trust between us. "I think we're on the same page." Joey doesn't respond, just picks up a glass of white wine on the counter. "Why yes, I'd love some," I say.
He shrugs. "It's in Gerta."
The fridge, of course. For it's sense of snow (the name sounded Swedish and it snows there, right?). When I walk there and take out the bottle, I can feel him trying not to smile. "You forgot that I know you."
"Knew." He corrects me.
"Then educate me. What have you been doing for five years?" I nod down the hallway towards Jono's room. "I mean, other than cloning yourself." A thought occurs to me, and before I can even voice it Joey answers.
"My sister is in high school now, over here in Kentucky. My parents wanted their boys ta go ta college, and figured attendin' Domino over in Japan-where we used ta live-might stack da odds for my senior year. I had good enough grades ta get a partial scholarship there; Jono didn't. My parents could only afford ta send one of us ta private school."
"Did he go to college?"
"Yep. NKU over here." Joey says. "He's a miscellaneous designer-to shirts, shoes, jewelry-but mainly an artist on his spare time."
"A hostile artist."
"Havin' your heart broken can do dat." Our eyes meet, and Joey realizes what he's said. "He just moved in today."
My eyes canvass the apartment, looking for brand new clothes, or a Sports Illustrated magazine, or something that is not like him. Something that look's like someone other than his brother has been here-i.e., another man. "Is it hard getting used to a roommate?"
"I was livin' alone before, Kaiba, if dat's what you're askin'." He looks at me over the edge of his wine glass. "How 'bout ya?
"Let's see... I have a brother who's muscular, ten kids, and two wives and four husbands."
His lips curve. "People like ya always make me feel like I'm underachievein'."
"Oh yeah, you're a real waste of space on the planet. Harvard undergrad, Harvard Law, a bleeding heart guardian ad litem-"
"How'd ya know where I went ta law school?"
"Judge Solomon." I lie and he buys it.
I wonder if Joey feels like it has been moments, not years, since we've been together. If sitting at this counter with me feels as effortless for him as it does for me. It's like picking up an unfamiliar piece of sheet music and starting to stumble through it, only to realize it is a melody you'd once learned by heart, one you can play without even trying.
"I didn't think you'd become a guardian ad litem." I admit.
"Neither did I." Joey smiles. "I still have moments where I fantasize 'bout standin' on a soapbox in Boston Common, tailin' against a patriarchal society. Unfortunately, you have to move back home after it's all over. And ya can't pay a landlord in dogma." He glances at me. "'Course, I also mistakenly believed ya'd be President of da United States by now."
"I inhaled," I confess. "Had to set my sights just a little lower. And you-well, actually, I figured you'd be living in the suburbs, doing the football father thing with kids and some lucky guy."
Joey shakes his head. "Please. I think ya're confusing me with some Jack, or Jeffery, or Kendall, or whatever da hell da names of da guys were in Domino."
"No. I just thought that...that I might be that guy."
There is a thick, deadly silence. "Ya didn't wanna be dat guy," Joey says finally. "You made dat pretty clear."
That is not true, I want to argue. But how else would it look to him, when afterward, I wanted nothing to do with him. When, afterward, I acted just like everyone else would. "Do you remember-" I begin.
"I remember everythin', Seto." He interrupts me. "If I didn't, dis wouldn't be so hard..."
My pulse jumps so high that Coco gets to his feet and pushes his snout into my hip, very alarmed. I had believed back then that nothing could hurt Joey, who seemed to be so free. I had hoped that I had could have been as lucky.
I was mistaken on both counts.
I know I made Seto bisexual, but it would all work out IF I did that, so I did.
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