Page 59 of Diamond Ring
He settles for the obvious. “Jake’s on the team too.” And he must have done that partially right, because Jake nudges him with his shoulder, an honest-to-god nudge the way he might have ten years ago, as if it’s an inside joke.
They’re left to drink after that, though she comes back a few minutes later, after Alex has drained most of his beer and Jake his soda.
“You all want food menus?” she asks.
Alex should check his phone, possibly, discreetly, hand shielding the screen. But if Ben isn’t coming, he’ll have messaged—and Alex can send a “don’t worry about it” response later—or he won’t. Neither of which he wants to discover sitting next to Jake.
“I might get something,” Alex says.
Jake shrugs agreeingly. “You want to eat here or over there?” He nods to a set of booths lining the perimeter of the room.
Which would mean actually having a meal together. “Sure.”
They make their way over. The booth squeaks as Alex sits in it, seat giving a leathery noise of complaint. Across the table, Jake is studying the menu as if there’s a wrong answer about what to get for dinner.
“What were you gonna get?” Jake asks. A friend question. Adatequestion.
“What do you think they can mess up the least?”
“Probably not up to big-league catering standards, huh?” Jake says it with relatively little malice.
“I promise I still eat regular-people food. Eric—my ex—is kind of an on-again, off-again vegan. There’s only so high-end that can get.” And it feels easy to mention Eric to Jake, without the clubhouse verbal gymnastics that elide Eric being a man. Jake knows, because theyknoweach other, ten years’ worth of knowing, even if most of those years were spent in a protracted argument. Because Alex once kissed him and spent a few incandescent days sleeping in his bed—and thought he’d get the chance to do it again.
“How long were you guys together?” Jake asks. Another date-ish kind of question.
Alex rises, reaching for Jake’s menu. “Here, I’ll go put the order in. If I’m gonna talk about Eric, I could use another drink. You want anything?”
“Another soda’d be great.”
Alex puts in his own order and an unassuming burger and fries for Jake, then comes back with their drinks. Jake takes his soda, removing the little paper endcap on the straw. “I mostly don’t drink anymore,” he says.
Alex looks down at his beer. “Do you mind that I am?”
A smile, a shake of his head. “Wouldn’t be at a bar if I did.”
Right. Because they aren’t heretogether, just by coincidence. Alex sits, shifting the paper place mat where it’s askew, because that used to bother Jake to the point where he’d reach across the table and square it up.
Jake sees him do it. He gets a look that’s hard to read, accompanied by an audible inhale like he’s gearing up to say something. “I started taking antidepressants a couple years ago. They help with some of the stuff I do.” He motions his hands across the tabletop like he’s adjusting his place mat. “They can make me woozy if I drink.”
Alex tries to think of what to say that doesn’t sound like a tacit criticism.That’s good. As if Jake was bad before, though Alex sometimes worried about him when they played together, and in the years after. “Okay.”
Jake smiles. “I forgot you did that.”
“What?”
“Just kind of absorbed things. It’s better than a bunch of people who patted me on the hand and said, ‘Good that you finally got some help.’” He demonstrates, tapping Alex’s hand, a few touches to the back of his palm that are nothing, just the dry brush of Jake’s fingers against his. Alex shifts slightly in his seat to remind himself of how muchnothingthey mean.
“Or”—Jake withdraws his hand—“guys’ll treat me like I’m weak by taking meds.”
“If it helps, why not?”
Jake’s smile broadens. “Yeah, pretty much.” He shifts his place mat, moving it farther off-center like he’s making a point, even if he gets a momentary line of tension on his forehead. “What’d you get to eat?”
“Mushroom tacos.”
“Are you also an on-again, off-again vegan?”
Alex shrugs. “Guess that’s what being together for a few years does. You start to pick up each other’s habits.”
