Page 6 of Freedom
“Uh,” he tried, and that was not a good start,Dammit, Jake, get it together, “that’s—blueberry, you said? Man, I haven’t had good blueberry pie since I hit this tiny mom-and-pop in Arizona, which was weird because I didn’t even think they had blueberries in the desert, and—what was the other one?”
“Rhubarb,” Tobias said, and he was smiling, clearly getting a kick out of Jake babbling like an idiot. That was completely fine, Jake would babble every day if it meant Tobias would keep smiling like that.
“Dude, what the hell? That stuff’s like some kind of mutant celery and totally shouldn’t be allowed in a pie in the first place, it’s practically sacrilege—”
“Okay,” Tobias said, and looked up, swaying forward a few almost imperceptible degrees to catch the attention of a passing waiter. “Ex-excuse m-me, cou-cou-could we have two—two s-slices of blu-blueberry pie, p-please?” His eyelids fluttered shut halfway through, and one hand had fisted tight at his shoulder, but oh God, he was the bravest thing Jake had ever seen in his fucking life.
Some people couldn’t see true heroism if it fucking asked them for pie. “Sure,” the kid waiter said before he wandered off.
Tobias was visibly trembling now, resting his head on his fist and breathing shallowly, drained of resources to pretend he was still okay.
Jake had no words—Fuck, Toby, you didn’t have to do that for me, don’t push yourself like that—but he could act. He got up to step around the table and slide in next to Tobias, pressing in close from knee to shoulder.
“We could try the rhubarb too, if you want,” he said softly. Toby’s eyes didn’t open, but his mouth twitched in a smile.
“S-sacrilege in a pie? Maybe n-next time.”
Jake laughed and squeezed his shoulder, light-headed. “Could be worse. I was in upper Maine, and there was a group of dudes worshiping a cannibalistic minor god they’d gotten out of some sci-fi book. I’m never touching minced pie again, man.”
Then there had been that cherry pie in Shreveport that had been really better than it should have been, and probably no one would ever have it again because he and Leon had to dig up and burn the grandma who made the recipe, but that was neither here nor there because Toby was the bravest person in the world, and Jake was pretty sure that no pie would ever be as awesome as him.
Chapter Two
Once he decided tosay it, Tobias had to mentally rehearse for several days before he actually voiced the words. Each day, hours beforehand, he thought,Tonight I’ll tell him, but every opportunity slipped past. It was just so hard to force out the words, even if he believed intellectually that Jake wouldn’t backhand him for his presumption.
When he finally found the courage to say it, he stumbled over the words and probably twisted his hands more than Jake would like, but he kept his eyes on Jake’s face the whole time, which he hoped would count more.
He hadn’t known how Jake would react, but for all he’d tried to tell himself nothing really bad would happen, he held his breath after, watching Jake’s face flicker through different emotions too quickly to decipher them all. He caught surprise, puzzlement... but the emotion Jake’s face finally settled on was too close to that horrible sad, tired look to ease the mounting pressure of anxiety in Tobias’s chest. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t backpedal and apologize—even if he’d said the wrong thing, Jake wouldn’t like that—but he had to bite his tongue now to stop those words.
“You want me to go out?” Jake repeated.
Tobias nodded, gaze locked on Jake, ignoring the bruising crush of his right hand over his left. “I—I think—it would be good. You should. You like going out to b-bars, and I like... reading and staying in. I’ll be okay here. I know it’s safe in this room, and no one’s going to c-come in. So we’ll both d-do what we want, and it’ll be good, Jake.”
Jake didn’t look convinced or happier. He fidgeted with his paper napkin from the Chinese delivery, tearing apart shreds and dropping them into his empty carton. Tobias forced himself to take slow, measured breaths.
“You want me to go out at night?” Jake said at last, as though he still wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “You feel okay about that?”
