Page 62 of Brace and Chase

Like two good, obedient kids, Nikolay and I walk to theother bed and sit facing him... next to each other. I mentally order myself not to shift nervously. It’s a totally normal distance between our bodies. Even though I think I feel the warmth radiating off him, I don’t think it’s physically possible.

“What is troubling you,” Nikolay asks and clasps his hands like he’s a priest waiting for confession. I bite back the snort at his Russian accent, knowing he’s full of shit but still unwilling to let anyone else in on that secret.

“See, Chris has some anxiety over me traveling at night. Specifically, travelling by any type of car.” I frown at that. He must’ve had a shit season, then, because we’ve been on the road in the dark plenty of times already.

“What do you meansome anxiety?” Nikolay asks, his tone surprisingly gentle.

“He doesn’t sleep well,” Benny starts listing off things. “He obsesses over seeing my location on his phone. He basically just suffers.”

Nikolay just hums to that, and I feel the question forming on my lips before I even consciously think about asking.

“Has he thought about getting some help?”

“Yes.” Benny nods a handful of times, then reaches next to him blindly and takes one of the pillows to put on his lap and hugs it to him. “He’s been going to therapy for the past four months, twice a week... and it’s helped,” he hurries to add, his blue eyes big and trusting on us. “And I’ve asked what I can do short of quitting my job to help him, butwe’ve come up with nothing and I just—” He cuts himself off and closes his eyes, looking pained.

“I just want to help him.” He looks straight at Nikolay then. “I know you’re going to give me the weirdest fucking suggestion ever, but I also know it will be creative and possibly even helpful.”

He looks heartbreakingly hopeful at that moment, and it breaks my heart a little because how the hell will Nikolay help him?

For about a minute we sit there in silence and both Benny and I stare at Nikolay. He’s clearly racking his brain for an answer, when suddenly he snaps his fingers and points at Benny.

“Blow jobs,” he cheers triumphantly.

“What about them?” Benny asks, clearly confused but instantly intrigued.

“How about you give him a blow job right before you leave for a roadie where you will have to be on the bus at night, and then you give himanotherblow job as soon as you get home?”

Benny opens and closes his mouth a few times, making complicated grimaces in between, while my brain is still trying to catch up to everything that just came out of myroommate’smouth.

Is he for real?

“Explain,” Benny finally demands.

“Well, my fellow countryman Ivan Pavlov made a fewdiscoveries about the psyche of humans. I don’t know if you’ve heard of him,” he drawls sarcastically.

Now I’m the one opening his mouth to respond when a lightbulb seems to come on inside my brain and I understand it.

“Positive reinforcement,” I say the second I remember the name.

“How do you know about it?” Nikolay asks me, looking pensive.

“One of my cousins is a therapist and I used to help him study,” I tell him absentmindedly.

“What does it mean?” Benny asks.

“It means that you basically train the mind to expect something good at a certain time or a...” I try to remember the word. “Trigger, I think it’s called.” Benny’s still frowning, so I keep explaining. “Pavlov’s experiment with a dog?—”

“He experimented ondogs?” he demands, horrified. I can’t say I blame him, but I bet he’s imagining something much worse.

“He would ring this bell before feeding his dog. Eventually the dog started salivating just at the sound of the bell even when he didn’t feed him right after.”

“Huh,” Benny says simply, and stays quiet for a long moment. “So you’re saying Chris would be the dog?” he asks, directing the question to Nikolay this time. “The bell would be me leaving or arriving home from a roadie, thefood would be the blow job, and salivating would be him not freaking out?”

My face is screwed up in concentration while he draws the parallels, even after I think I’ve wrapped my mind around the whole thing.

“More like, salivating would be the bliss of a good orgasm,” Nikolay corrects, but he does so with a triumphant smile on his face.

“You could ask Chris,” I offer with a shrug. “His therapist would not only probably know more about it, but maybe have some thoughts on it? I mean, it depends on their speciality, but I’m pretty sure all trained psychologists know about positive reinforcement.”

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