Owning It (Metropolis #3)(19)

"I take great pride in knowing very little about the world outside of Midtown."

I snatch his iPhone, which is plugged into the radio, playing Bowie's "Ground Control to Major Tom."

He glances at me uneasily. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for your music. You should really put a passcode on this thing, by the way."

"I've never really had a reason to have a passcode. It's an inconvenience more than anything else. I don't have anything to hide."

"Of course you do," I say. "Everyone has something to hide."

That came out more bitterly than I intended.

"You're a little young to say something that jaded, don't you think?"



       
         
       
        

"You do realize that eleven years isn't that big of a difference, right? Just because I look like I just graduated from high school, doesn't mean I did."

"Fair point."

"I just meant we need to discuss your love of Pink Floyd and the Grateful Dead."

"What's wrong with them?"

"Some needy power bottom is going to go through your phone one night, and he's totally going to think you've been lying to him all along, and that you're really straight."

He laughs.

"I don't know why you're laughing. He'd be less upset if he found texts from like five other guys you were sleeping with behind his back. At least then he knows you'll still have sex with him."

"You're ridiculous."

"I'm just looking out for you. Now if this is going to work for the next thirty minutes, we're going to need to compromise."

"Compromise how?"

"Like you get to listen to your Bowie and Pink Floyd, and I get to listen to Britney … some Madonna … some Cher."

"We can compromise on Cher."

My heart flutters.

"Finally, something we have in common! So we'll start with 'Bang Bang,' 'Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves,' and 'If I Could Turn Back Time.' Obvs. Then we'll make a U-turn and go back for 'Half-Breed.' "

"When are we getting to 'A Song for the Lonely'?"

"Patience, power top … patience … I have a very good feeling about this road trip."

I DJ for a few songs, singing at the top of my lungs … basically serenading Jackson. He keeps glancing at me like he's trying to figure me out. But he laughs and smiles a lot too, and when I seem to shake his mood a bit, I turn down the volume.

"Was everything okay last night at work?" I ask.

"What? Yes. Why?"

"You seem … off. Don't worry, Daddy. You can be weak and vulnerable with me, and you can still top. I would never make you bottom."

I earn another laugh. I wait as his serious expression returns, and he says, "It was a rough night at work."

This is usually when I would step in and make a play off his use of rough, but I hold back because I won't interrupt him potentially sharing something very serious with me. Normally, that's totally what I'd do, but I don't imagine Jackson is the type of guy who talks to a lot of people-who really opens up. And I know what that's like, and it can be nice to have someone to talk to.

"Sometimes, in my line of work," he continues, "shit gets real. What do you think the most tragic thing a paramedic could experience is?" 

"Someone dying on your watch?"

"That's a good answer. And it's horrible and tragic and fucked up. But you wanna know what's worse? Having to see the person who just lost someone they love. Last night, I watched a woman lose her husband, and it shook me to my core. Every time I see something like that, I think of what I'd be like if something ever happened to Zane or Steph. How hard that moment would be. It's unbearable even thinking about it, and if it happens, I honestly don't know how I would bear it."

His words strike a chord with me. Remind me of my fears-my worries about Uncle Randy.

Because it's something I know is coming-something that's concerned me since even before he was diagnosed. That one day I'll have to let him go, and I'll be left grieving the only person who was there for me when I needed someone most.

"I'm sorry," I say.

"You don't have anything to be sorry about. I didn't actually lose anyone. I was just witnessing it, so I have to admit that I'm pretty fucking lucky to still have the people I love in my life."

"They're lucky to have someone who cares about them so much," I say, reflecting on my family. I feel like there are so many kids that if something happened, they'd hold a funeral out of obligation more than anything else. "I guess you have to watch that kind of stuff a lot with what you do."