VERSE TWO Chapter Twenty-Five

JUSTIN

"Deb, really, I can't eat anymore," I protest as she starts heaping more turkey on my plate.

"Just another slice, Sunshine, and another piece of bacon," she says coaxingly, and I know resistance is futile. I wonder if I can smuggle some home for Rage.

As if reading my mind, Brian says, "You haven't told them what I got you, yet."

"Brian! You know we don't exchange gifts until after lunch!" Deb waves an accusing finger.

Brian smiles sweetly. "Yes, I know, but this couldn't wait until today."

Seven pairs of eyes settle on me expectantly.

I stare at him as he sits opposite, smiling at me. I'd figured he wouldn't want me to say anything, so I hadn't; I study his eyes, but I don't see anything discouraging there, so I answer simply; "A kitten."

There's a sudden silence, and I realise that everybody's staring from Brian, to me, and back again. "A kitten?" Mel repeats, her voice climbing an octave.

Deb walks round the table to Brian and gives him a hug.

"Sweetie, that's wonderful!" Em's bouncing in his chair, clapping his hands. "What is it, a boy or a girl? What are you calling it? What colour is it?"

"A boy, Rage, and black," I tell him. I can't stop myself grinning. "He's so cute."

"Can I come see him? Pretty please?"

"As soon as he settles in, Em."

"Who's going to look after him while you're at college?" Linds asks.

"Brian bought an animal crate to put him in. It's big enough for a bed, and a litter tray, and his food bowls, and there's still room for him to play. Once he gets used to me and the flat, I'll leave him free. There's not a lot he can damage."

"Well, if you ever need a kitty-sitter, I'm right here," Em says.

"Why, Em, I'd never have put you down as a pussy lover," Mel smirks, earning an exasperated shove from Linds.

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After Deb has stuffed us fuller than the turkey, we collapse into chairs while Vic hands out the obligatory egg-nog, whether we want one or not. Even Brian doesn't escape. The only one excused is Gus.

Deb and Vic hand out the presents, which have been piled under the tree. Everyone has a small heap; except for Brian, who of course neither gives nor receives, except to, and from, Gus. Oh, and except for the traditional Jumbo box of condoms that Michael always gives him, wrapped and ribboned.

My presents all seem quite large.

"Oh, sweetie, it's lovely," Linds gasps when she opens the drawing I've given her. She and Mel hurry over to kiss me. "Our very own Taylor original," Mel says, grinning. "Who knows what it'll be worth one day?"

"And look at this!" Deb squawks, holding up her cartoon. "Look at Emmett's face, here, and Teddy … and Gorgeous Gus … and his Mommies … even you, asshole," she grins, poking at Brian who's peering over her shoulder. "And Vic … Christ, that's the spitting image of him … and … Sunshine, my fucking hair does not look like that…"

Everyone seems to have agreed to buy me things for my place, which is actually a pretty good choice, given my Spartan living arrangements. Emmett has bought me soft, thick white bath towels. Mel and Linds have gone for a range of micro-wave proof dishes, which will be really useful; Michael and Ben have given me a set of coffee mugs.

"Thanks, guys," I tell them. "Now I can stop using the glasses."

"On the contrary, thank you," Ben says, coming over and giving me a hug. "This is really great." He holds out the Schaeffer in his right hand, weighing it in his fingers. "It's so solid … such craftsmanship … I can't wait to get some ink and try it."

"Yeah, thanks, Justin." Michael hugs me too. He actually looks a little tearful. "This is … wow, it's just like the night Gus was born. Look, Bri, it's just like us, up on the hospital roof, remember?"

Brian gets up from the floor where Gus is happily playing with wrapping paper and boxes, and comes to see. "Yeah, Mikey. I remember."

My last present is the largest; it feels like material, heavy and soft.

"That's from Vic and me," Deb says, as I begin to unwrap it.

It's a quilt. It's very large. And it's so bright it takes my breath away.

It's made of hundreds of small hexagons in some sheer material like satin, all in varying shades of yellow ranging from the palest lemon, through rich gold to a vibrant marigold orange. The underside is a warm, buttercup yellow fleece. It shimmers like a piece of sunlight lying on my knees.

"Did you make this?" I can't help running my fingers over it.

Deb nods. "It's your Sunshine quilt," she says simply. "It's to keep you warm when winter comes."

I go and put my arms round her.

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I catch Brian while he's outside having a smoke. "Here," I say, handing him his present. "Happy Christmas, Brian."

He takes it and his eyebrow quirks up. "More condoms?"

I smile and shake my head. "I would have given it to you yesterday, but I got a little excited and forgot."

I expect a sarcastic comment, but he says nothing. Carefully he takes off the wrapping, and when he sees the Zippo box his other eyebrow goes up too. He opens it, takes out the lighter; studies it. I can see him reading the inscription.

"I hope you don't mind that I put that on," I say, feeling nervous again. "It's not like, um, it's too sentimental or anything, is it?"

Brian doesn't answer. He rubs his thumb across the engraved letters, then snaps the lid back and flicks the wheel with practised ease. The wick flares immediately, bright and steady. It lights his face. "No, Justin," he says at length, smiling at me, "I don't mind. I don't mind at all."

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Later, after the good byes and hugs and kisses, Deb walks me to the door, carrying a bag full of snacks for me to take. My arms are full of quilt; Brian is taking the rest of my presents to the Corvette.

"Justin…" she looks at me with her Serious Mom face. "The drawing you gave me … of everybody. I have to tell you there's one thing I don't like about it."

"I know, your hair. Sorry, Deb," I grin.

"You got my hair just fine, and you know it. What I don't like is what's missing."

"Huh?"

"The person you left out?"

"What?" I try to think. "Who did I leave out?"

She leans forward and presses a kiss to my forehead. "You, Sunshine. You."

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That night, snuggled under my quilt with Rage curled against my side, I lie awake and fretful.

I'm so fucking confused.

I've tried so hard to make a new life and a new beginning, and yet I can feel myself being drawn back inexorably into the same old ways, the same old habits. And I'm terrified of that: it's the one thing I swore I would never let happen again.

Deb surprised me when she pointed out my absence from the gathering I'd drawn: I had never even thought about including myself, and I guess nothing says more about how much of an outsider I now perceive myself to be. But she expected me to be there, part of her fucked-up little family, and was hurt that I wasn't.

And the others … they were being genuine, weren't they? They'd talked to me, made me laugh, made me feel wanted … not because I was with Brian, but because of me. Even Michael had seemed pleased to have me there.

It had felt so damned comfortable … like going home. And even while I'm telling myself, Resist, Justin, resist; even while my brain is telling me that I'm only setting myself up for another fall; even then, my heart keeps saying that if something is really so bad for you then it shouldn't feel so right, should it?

But then Brian and I had felt so right, too, and look how wrong I was about that.

Brian.

However I want to read it, the simple fact is that he put aside his principles and his prejudices, and gave me a present – not only that, but the one I wanted. The perfect gift. Something that will belong to me… something I can love. So I won't be lonely again.

I reach down automatically and smooth Rage's silky fur, and he replies with a faint mew and a sleepy yawn. I find myself grinning like a fool.

Could Daph have been right? Have I been kidding myself that I'm better and stronger, when all that has really happened is that I've slipped so far that I simply don't believe I can be loved, that I can't love?

Have I turned into Brian … the old Brian?

Fuck, I can't get my head around this. I wish to God there was someone I could talk to, someone who could give me a different perspective … someone impartial.

And just like that, the answer comes.

There is someone. Henry.

TBC