Page 127 of Bobby Green

They were standing in the newly seeded front yard, under the shade of the single tree on the side, and Reg and Bobby looked at each other. “You need to give her meds,” Bobby said. “You remember where. You’ve done this before, right?”

Skylar keened. “Really? That again?”

“Well, she’ll pretend to take them—but you need to make sure she really does.”

Rick grunted. “Aces.”

“Sorry, guys,” Reg said, looking way more embarrassed than he had in the fall. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“No—it’s okay,” Skylar said, and Rick wasn’t far behind. But as the two of them, dressed in their best jeans and athletic-fit Johnnies shirts, got into the truck, Bobby’s heart sank a little further.

It was a lot to ask.

Anybody.

BOBBY WENTwith Reg for moral support and to make sure Lance and the other headliners had their posters and water and someone to escort them to the back if they needed a break.

He didn’t expect to be popular himself—nor for Reg to provide him with promotional posters and a corner along the back wall where the signing was happening as sort of a surprise.

“Sign them,” Reg said with grin, handing him a Sharpie. “You’re hot, they connect with you. Go!”

So Bobby took his own turn, saying things like, “You like the scenes? That’s awesome. It’s great of you to watch!” And it didn’t matter who was asking him to sign—men, women, old, young, waxed and young or furry, paunched, and grizzled. He was just so happy he’d done something they liked, meeting them felt like an incredible honor.

Finally, though, Reg called an end to the event but promised the guys would be out on the floor for a good half hour to dance. He grabbed Bobby’s hand then and hauled him to a quiet corner, and even though the music was loud and rocking, Bobby pulled him close and started to drift in small circles. They were both hot and sweaty, but it didn’t matter. They were flushed with excitement, thrilled to be there, happy with the triumph of what Reg had accomplished.

He’d organized the gig, the crowd had loved it, the guys felt appreciated—and the manager of Nick himself had come out and thanked Johnnies for showing up. He’d even asked them if they could make it a monthly thing, now that there was someone in charge of promotion.

It was a win—and Bobby was so proud of Reg, he couldn’t stand it.

In spite of the crowd and the excitement, he lowered his head and took Reg’s mouth, letting his pride fill them.

Joy exploded behind their eyes like stars.

THEY WEREexhausted when they got back to Reg’s house, though, and grateful that Rick and Skylar were ready to take off for the flophouse, where they could, in Rick’s words, actually look at each other without hearing theFword.

That sobered them both, and Bobby could see Reg’s neck droop as they turned the lights off and went to Reg’s room.

“She’s going to have to go back in,” Reg murmured. “I don’t know how—I mean, she’s not good enough right now to put her in the good place, or even to agree to go. I….”

Bobby pulled his back flush with Bobby’s front and dropped a kiss on top of his head. “Maybe call a social worker?” he said softly. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Reg sighed. They took separate showers a few minutes later, but for that moment, Bobby didn’t want to let him go.

They fell asleep quickly, in boxer shorts and nothing else because it was hot. They were tired and distracted, and Bobby forgot his resolution to sleep with one eye open.

He didn’t wake up in time.

One minute he was fast asleep, and the next minute he was sitting up in bed, watching as V swung a shovel at her brother’s head.

Bobby lunged, throwing himself on top of Reg as the blow fell, taking it on the back of his shoulder. He screamed and continued to roll, coming to his feet and standing in front of Reg with his arms out, warding off V and the wild swings from the shovel.

“What are you faggots doing in my house?”

Oh Jesus.

“Reg! Reg, grab the phone and call the police! We need some fucking help!”

She swung again, sideways, and the shovel, dirt encrusted and sharp, ripped a slice across his stomach, even as he tried to wrench it out of her hands. Behind him he heard Reg scrambling for the phone, and he clenched his scream inside.