Out of Character (True Colors 2)

“Maybe your luck is about to turn.” He pointed at a box on the floor. “Last case.”

“Okay. Maybe this is the good stuff.” I hefted it up and peered over his shoulder as he opened it up.

“Maybe. I’m crossing—”

“Fuck.” I didn’t let him finish the thought because I knew what I was seeing and it wasn’t good.

“More scrolls.” Even Jasper sounded beyond dejected. “Okay. Let’s actually dig. There might be something hiding.”

But there wasn’t. This wasn’t a treasure hunt, and there wasn’t some secret panel on the bottom of the box hiding a cache of rare cards. Jasper checked, even going so far as to turn each of the boxes upside down. Nothing.

“All right. This isn’t an utter disaster.” The way Jasper was wringing his hands said otherwise, right along with my stomach, which was making me regret those sandwiches. I popped two mints, but the sour feeling stayed.

“How so? Bruno’s home next weekend. I’m out of time.”

“We are not out of time.” He drew his shoulders back, the commanding leader who wrangled his cosplay group into shape making an appearance. “I’ll play George and—”

“I told you. I hate that idea.” I might really enjoy bossy Jasper, but not right then, and not about my life. I pushed away from the table and stalked to the other side of the small room. “And it’s not your call.”

“Actually, it kind of is.” Jasper followed after me. “It’s my ticket to the launch party. And it’s my need to help you. Let me help you.”

“Not like that.” A faded poster on the wall welcomed newcomers to Odyssey, mocking me.

“Okay. I think you’re being stubborn, but whatever.” Jasper slumped into one of the folding chairs. I hated how defeated he sounded and was about to rub his shoulder when he added, “Maybe the best thing is to own up to what happened to Bruno.”

“No. I can’t do that.” I took three steps backward, running into the wall. “I mean, here I am, life a mess again. Lost his cards. Lost my place to live—”

“But think about what you’ve gained.” Jasper turned in his chair, eyes boring into mine. And I wasn’t stupid. I knew what he meant. Self-respect. Ambition. Pride. Friends. Him. Definitely him and everything that included, every wonderful moment of the past few weeks. But none of that was going to matter. This wasn’t one of Jasper’s equations where one side balanced the other.

“He won’t see that.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Sure I do. He’s been a success at everything. School. Special forces. Every sport and game he’s tried. And me? I keep messing up. And now I’m a failure. Again.”

“Gee. Tell us how you really feel.” Jasper leaped out of his chair, took a step toward me, then apparently changed his mind and stomped to the other side of the table.

I held up both hands. “I didn’t mean that being with you is a failure.”

“No? Because it sure seems like you’re trying to punish yourself for being gay, chalking that up as one more black mark Bruno is going to hold against you.”

“He stood up for me. All the time with Dad.” I’d lost Dad, if I’d ever really had him. I’d lost James and Luther and a bunch of other pointless acquaintances. But I couldn’t lose Bruno too. I just couldn’t, and I needed Jasper to understand that. “He’d tell Dad to lay off me or he’d help me do my chores faster. And then when I had the accident—”

“I get it. He’s been there for you. And you did make a big mistake with the cards. Which is why I want to play George for you. If it’s that important to you that Bruno not know, let me do this for you. For us.”

The thought of him playing George filled me with such rage and shame. Stepping back and letting him do that for me was more than I could bear. My back tensed, every muscle rigid. Jasper was always so quick with the solutions, the genius right answers, and I loved that about him, but I also simply couldn’t stomach the thought of turning over my problems to him for the quick fix.

“This is my mess. I’ll sort it out. Somehow.”

“On your own,” Jasper said flatly.

“I need to.” I didn’t know how I could expect him to understand when I didn’t fully get it either, but fresh resolve drove me, like a pebble of an idea had started rolling and now it was a boulder and I couldn’t stop it. And what was worse, I didn’t know whether I should stop, whether my pride was about to trash what was left of my life or whether this was me making a long overdue stand.

“You came to me, you know. You asked me to help—”

“I know. And you’ve done so, so much. I can never repay you.” I crossed the distance between us, but his expression was guarded, eyes narrow, fists clenched.