The Gus Diaries

Part 113

After the Valentines II





 

By the time my dads reached the diner everything was back to normal... including my breathing. Matt was still sitting next to me, our backs to the door, when Dad slid in opposite us in the booth, immediately followed by Pop.

“Well, Sonny Boy, fancy meeting the two of you here. I had no idea you had a play date with the king of pizza and beer.”

I tilted my head. “I didn’t. We happened to meet here, and he came to my rescue a little while ago. I nearly needed the Heimlich Maneuver to get a fucking french fry out of my throat.”

Pop stood up and pulled Matt out of the seat with a strong tug to his arm.

“Hey! You’re pretty powerful for a short guy.”

Pop glared at Matt. “You’re pretty dim for a college student -- don’t assume my height ever gets in my way.” If I could bring myself to laugh after all that had happened, I would have. I did notice Dad raise an eyebrow.

Pop slid in next to me and turned my face to look at him. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Then he glanced across the table. “Brian, maybe we should bring him to the clinic and have the doctor check him out -- make sure there are no lingering after-effects.”

“Relax, Sunshine. The lad’s skin is pink and healthy. He’s fine. You’re beginning to sound like Debbie.”

“And you’re beginning to sound like the Brian Kinney from fifteen years ago.”

“Ouch -- that hurt, Justin.” Dad smirked.

“I may be overreacting just a bit. But I worry when Gus isn’t with us.”

Dad stuck his tongue in cheek. “Every mother does.”

“Fuck you.”

“Later, dear.” Dad’s syrupy voice finally got me, and I started to laugh.

“I’m fine. Would both of you cut it out.” I looked at Matt. “We happened to meet here and decided to have dinner at the same table while Matt cruised the clientele.”

“Nice alliteration, Sonny Boy.”

“Thank you.” I rolled my eyes. “When I got a stupid fry stuck in my throat, he ran around the table to try to force it out but it dislodged just in time. Then that asshole, Jeremy, came in and made some stupid remark about watching what I shove in my mouth.”

Pop turned to face me. “Jeremy was here? The guy who gave you all that trouble and who you sent to Hunter for help?”

“One and the same. He had his pet photographer with him. I think they were out to try to snap a few pictures for the next issue of the school paper and came in here to grab a bite to eat.”

Dad and Pop looked at each other. Dad started turning a fork around between his fingers. “When did Jeremy arrive? Did he try to help you when you were choking?”

I shook my head. “No, he came in later, when all the fun was over. No photos of the editor gasping for breath in our paper.”

Pop bit his lip and said nothing for a few seconds. “Then why don’t we get you home.” He looked at Matt. “Thank you for helping Gus.”

Matt nodded. “That’s what friends do, Mr. Taylor.” He shifted on his seat to face Dad. “And, Mr. Kinney, I promise this was just a coincidence... and only dinner. No ulterior motives.”

Dad glared at Matt. “Good. At least you can learn from your mistakes.”

Too bad I didn’t realize it was Jeremy who needed the talk from Dad -- much more than Matt did.

 

*~*~*~*~*
 

A couple of days later the Valentine’s edition of the St. Jamesian was released. I had reviewed it a couple of days earlier and it looked great. Every issue was getting better and better, and more kids were reading it before dumping it in the recycling bins.

At lunch time, I found a table near the back of the cafeteria, wanting to be alone to wallow in missing Jeff and to observe everyone opening their papers. I still hadn’t read mine, but it was safely tucked in my backpack.

“What the hell is this all about, Gus, and why am I reading about it in the school paper instead of hearing about it from you first?”

“Good afternoon to you too, Marci. How lovely you look.”

“Cut the crap and tell me why I’m the last to know?”

Marci threw the paper in front of me and sat down with a thud on the same side of the table.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. The last to know what?”

“Stop playing dumb, Gus Taylor Kinney!”

“Imitating my grandmother won’t get you any points with me. What gives?”

“Oh my God! You really don’t know.” Marci’s eyes widened.

I tilted my head. “Duh.”

“Holy... Gus, turn to page five.”

“Jeremy always adds some last minute bullshit to his column. Did the principal break a nail or something?”

“Or something. Just look.”

I opened Marci’s paper and found a picture of me and Matt, my head resting on Matt’s shoulder, and him with his arm around me and kissing the top of my head.

“What the fuck! How the hell did he get this -- he wasn’t even there?”

“If this is about your unfortunate night at the Liberty Diner... it seems like he arrived a lot sooner than you realized.”

“I was a little preoccupied at the time. Shit!”

“Shouldn’t he have cleared this with you? You are the editor of this rag.”

“It’s not usually a rag, and all the columnists have a little leeway -- especially when I’m in class and we have to go to press.” I rested my head in my hands. I could feel a major headache coming on. “That fucker!”

“Gus, dear.” I hate when Marci gets all smarmy.

“Yes, honey.” I can dish it out too.

“Do you want to know how I really found out about this?”

“I assumed you opened the paper and read it.”

“Not exactly. Steve texted me. Remember the alums get their papers sent to them directly from the printer. He saw it when he got his mail this morning.”

It took me less than a minute to piece together what Marci was really telling me. “Fucking hell! Jeff!”

“Yes, Jeff. I may not still be involved with Steve for good reason, but this garbage could really mess things up for you and Jeff.”

“I have to call him.”

“First read the caption.”

I hadn’t even noticed the words beneath the photo. My head was killing me and my eyes were burning.

“Here, I’ll read it to you.” Marci took a deep breath -- drama queen. “A new Valentine on the horizon. Former St. James basketball star gets cozy with current star and editor of this paper, after a quiet dinner for two.”

It’s a good thing Jeremy wasn’t in the cafeteria, or I would’ve had to kill him. Instead, I grabbed my phone, backpack, and laptop. I needed to get outside and call Jeff right away. I just hoped he hadn’t seen the paper yet.

“Gus, where are you going? You have math in less than five minutes and you know you can’t miss it.”

“Wanna bet. Nothing’s more important than this phone call.”

“I’ll tell the teacher you’re puking in the bathroom,” Marci called as I ran down the hall, heading for the exit.

Standing at the door, watching me with his arms crossed and a self-satisfied grin on his face was Jeremy. “Hey, cutie. Late for an appointment.”

“You asshole! I almost choked to death and you turn it into some bullshit it wasn’t.”

“I just call it as I see it.”

“Well, see this, you fucker -- you’re fired from the paper.”

“You’re not the faculty advisor. You can’t fire me.”

I got too close for comfort -- face-to-face and threatening. “You wanna bet?”

Plowing through the door to the sports fields, I pulled out my phone and pressed the speed dial button for Jeff.

It went straight to voice mail. This is Jeff Martin. I’m studying my ass off. I’ll call you back when I get a minute, but don’t count on it being anytime soon. And if this is Gus -- I read the paper; don’t bother leaving a message.

Fuck!

[TBC]
 

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