Page 52 of Paint Eater
“Uh, yeah. Jayden.”
His mom continued staring at him expectantly.
“Um…Jayden Monroe. It’s really nice to meet you finally.”
Logan’s mom tilted her head just the slightest bit, and Logan wanted to jump between them, wanted to stop the car crash that was about to happen, but he was rooted to the spot, a helpless observer.
“Are you a friend of my son’s?”
“Yeah! We’ve been hanging out. He’s great. You, uh, you have a lovely home, too.”
Logan closed his eyes briefly, absorbing the blow.Fuck. Trust Jay to be just earnest enough to say the worst possible thing.
“Thank you, Jayden. That’s very kind. I had no idea that you two were so close. I suppose you go to NYU?”
“Oh, no.” Jay laughed as if the mere notion were absurd. “I work in a tattoo shop. No way could I get into NYU.”
Stop, Logan pleaded silently.Stop.
“I see. Howdidyou two meet?”
“Oh, we went to school together.”
Logan jumped in, not wanting his mom to jump to the worst conclusion. “We didn’t know each other then, really. We reconnected at a party a few weeks ago. We’ve hung out a few times.”
Finally, his mom turned to look at him, smile fixed in place. “How nice.” Her eyes cut through him. She looked back at Jay. “And what do you two do together?”
She knew. Of course, she knew.
“Uh, just, like. Explore the city? I’m really into street art, so we’ve been checking some of those places.”
“Street art. Sounds very interesting, Jayden. And your parents? What do they do?”
“Uh, my mom’s a doctor.”
“And she’s happy that you’re tattooing?”
“Um, yeah. I mean, she just wants me to be happy.”
Logan’s mom laughed lightly. “Of course. Well, it was lovely meeting you, Jayden. Nisha, always lovely to see you.”
“Uh, same,” Jay said.
“Likewise, Mrs. Williams.”
Logan’s mom didn’t even look at him as she left to mingle.
Logan looked at Nisha, who shrugged. “That didn’t gotoobad, see?”
Logan closed his eyes and shook his head.
*****
The rest of the function went by like a nightmare. Logan avoided Nisha, not being able to even stand Jay’s hurt, questioning expressions every time Logan managed to find somewhere else to be every time they drifted close. They were at a different table during the auction, thank God, and Logan just sat there, staring sightlessly at the stage, feeling like each second was taking him closer to something terrible he had no chance of escaping.
“Logan,” his mom said as soon as they were home. His dad wandered off to the kitchen, uninterested, as Logan dutifully followed his mom to her office.
She sat at the chair behind her massive, glass-and-chrome desk. Logan stood in the middle of the room, trapped in the gloom that hung thick like treacle, the only source of light a lamp behind his mom.
