Cruel Summer: Part 1: Chapter 4 "My Give-a-damn’s Busted"

“Time for the twenty second tour.” Tommy says to Jake standing up from the table full of In-and-Out wrappers. “This is the living room, the balcony is out that door, and that’s the kitchen there. You might not get too much use out of it this summer working with me, since the dining commons gives us free food with the job, but feel free to help yourself if you get hungry. You can cook right?” Jake nods. “Okay, that’s a relief. I wouldn’t have asked normally, but since you’re Drew’s friend, I couldn‘t be sure.” Jake laughs at the jab, and Tommy grins in triumph. The most ironic aspect of Drew is that, while his name is Cook, the boy can barely pour cereal without something bursting into flames. Jake remembers a time when Drew’s mother told him as she was leaving the house one afternoon he was over, “Don’t, under any circumstances, let my son near the kitchen. Just get something delivered, I’ll pay for it. My insurance can‘t take much more of him.” Jake relates this incident to Tommy, who grins wider. Tommy has a nice smile, not dangerous like Drew’s, but small and simple, like Tommy himself. It sets off his dark brown eyes well, as does the long spill of black hair that reaches his shoulders. Tommy is short and slight, but Jake can understand how Drew would think he was cu–‘Stop that.’ he orders himself. ‘Drew isn’t yours. He never was.’

Drew is laying on the couch, rubbing his temples, frantically trying to come up with a way to get Jer to agree to Jake‘s presence. Listening to Tommy prattle on like a proud housewife is doing nothing for his imagination or nerves.

“Can you do this later? We need to figure out what to tell Jer,” he says.

“Oh, quit worrying about him. Down the hallway to your right are the bedrooms. The nearest one is Drew’s and mine; the far one is Jer’s and Will’s. And yours too, now. The bathroom is right across from you.”

“Don’t worry about him?” Drew says. It took him that long to get over his shock at Tommy‘s flippancy. “Are you crazy?”

“What’s the problem? Why are you so afraid of Jer?” Jake asks.

“Ignore him,” Tommy says. “Jer’s a good guy. Not good with people, but once you get to know him, you’ll think he’s great.”

“Or an unmitigated shit head,” Drew mutters.

Tommy leans into Jake and whispers, “Drew just doesn’t like him because he can’t manipulate Jer as easy as he can everyone else.”

“I heard that.”

The front door opens, ending the banter. Drew launches up off the couch, saying “Hi Jer,” as he leaps. He steps to Jake and says, “Let me do the talking.”

Jer is still wearing his work uniform: jeans and a blue jacket over a lurid orange shirt the color of a new penny. He fills the uniform nicely. “Hello Drew,” he says, voice carefully controlled in his suspicion. Drew is never excited to see him. He takes in the rest of the room, and focuses on Jake. “Oh, hello.”

Not missing a beat, Tommy says, “Jer, this is Jake. He’s an old friend of Drew’s.” Jer expression relaxes when Tommy says the word “friend.” This is familiar territory for Jer.

“Nice to meet you, Jake,” he says, looking up and down Jake’s body. He likes what he sees. Jake is a lot scruffier than Drew usually likes, but Jer on the other hand likes guys who look like they know how to roughhouse.

“How was work?” Tommy asks.

“Long and annoying, mostly because of my partner. I think next time I work with him, I’m taking a hip flask.” Jer shrugs off his jacket, leaving it on the floor, and heads for the refrigerator. He takes out a wine cooler, opens it, and takes a long drink that half empties the bottle.

“You could ask you know,” Drew comments wearily.

“I could ask,” Jer replies. “I could ask what happened to those bottles of Boone’s Farm I bought last week.”

“Oh, were those yours? I thought they were Tommy’s. I didn't expect you to drink something so girly, you being a manly guy who does manly things.”

“Fuck you. I don’t need a beer to prove what’s between my legs.” Jer says, nose up and smirking triumphantly. “Would you like one?” he asks Jake.

“Quit trying to get the jail bait drunk.” Drew says, irritated.

Jer looks at Drew in confusion, and then turns to Jake. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen,” Jake says.

“How do you and Drew know each other?” He directs the question to Jake, but it’s Drew he’s looking at, and expecting an answer from.

“He’s from Stent’s Cut-off. Look, it’s… complicated,” Drew says, wondering how to phrase the question.

“Complicated?” Jer parrots.

“Yeah see, the thing is…” Drew starts.

“I need somewhere to stay for a while,” says Jake. Drew glares at him, pissed at Jake for violating his script.

Jer takes another drink. “I see.” Tommy pulls Jake back a step away from Jer. He knows from experience that if Jer is being unreasonably calm, he’s saving the rage up for release later.

“Jake called me earlier today,” Drew explains. “He just needs somewhere to crash for a while, and I offered to let him stay here.”

“So, what, he’s just going to stay here? For how long?”

“Maybe all summer,” Drew says.

“All summer? Rent Free?” Jer asks, his voice rising slightly. This is typical of him; the joke among his roommates, when he is out of earshot, is that the only thing Jer ever worries about is his account balance.

“Of course not,” Drew says. “He’ll get a job, and pay Will’s portion of the rent. It’s not like Will’s going to mind, he’s not here.”

Jer’s eyes and nostrils widen. “Will’s portion? The twink is going to be MY roommate?” he asks, finger pointing accusingly at Jake.

Drew lips curve in his most conciliatory smile. “Well, of course I would have preferred him in my room,” Jer snorts a laugh at that, but doesn’t otherwise interrupt. “But we can’t expect Tommy to up and switch all of a sudden. He just got settled in.” Drew’s smile is known to melt the hearts and resolve of the most bitter of TAs, but Jer has lived with him for two years, and is immune.

“Where’s he going to get a job now? It’s almost July, summer jobs have been filled, and no one left is going to be willing to hire anyone underage.”

“Actually, I’m going to hire him,” Tommy interjects. “We’re always short staff, especially since I just let some people go already. The personnel manager trusts me; she’ll give Jake a job if I recommend it. He said he worked as a waiter back home, that’s more experience than ninety percent of our staff can claim. I genuinely think he‘ll be great.”

“Traitor.” Jer says, but not with much malice. If Drew told Tommy “You’re a frog,” Tommy would hop up and down and croak. Besides, Jer finds it difficult to remain angry at Tommy for longer than a couple of seconds. “I guess you thought of everything, Drew.”

“I try to.”

“Well Fuck That!” Jer says, emphasizing each word. “He’s not staying in my room, and he’s not staying here.” Jer slams the emptied bottle down on the counter. “I’m looking forward to my privacy these months; there’s no way I’m giving it up for some under-aged old flame of yours.” Jer twitches when he gets excited; his mouth opens involuntarily, his hand spastically runs across his face, and he constantly plays with his close cut hair. Judging by Jer’s expression, Jake figures he’s on the next bus back to Stent‘s Cut-Off.

But as Jer became immune to Drew’s charms, Drew learned new ways to manipulate him. He goes to Jake, and slowly runs one hand up and down Jake’s long forearm. “Look at him Jer,” he says, so sincerely Jake and Jer both almost believe it. “He doesn’t have anywhere else to go. I have to do this, which means I need you to agree. And really, is sharing a room with this,” he says, this time draping an arm over Jake, touching Jake’s cheek with his own, “really that much of an problem for you?”

At work, Jer is known for two things: his sarcasm and his ability to intimidate drunken losers by glaring at them. The look he’s shooting Drew should reduce him to slag. Drew smiles; he knows that Jake, while years too young for him, is exactly Jer’s type. He’d give up a lot more than a single to have Jake around more often. Drew knows this. Jer knows Drew knows this. He hates that. “I hate you,” he says to Drew. But then, he shakes his head, clearing the confusion out. “No, no, stop that. My answer’s still no. He can’t stay. I’ll put him on the bus myself.”

“Dammit Jer,” Drew says, losing his cool as well. “I’m desperate. He’s desperate. He has to stay here; he can’t go back to Stent’s. You of all people should be able to relate to that.”

“What are you talking about?”

“When was the last time you saw your family, Jer? Went near your hometown? Talked to your godson in person? Is any of this starting to ring a bell?”

Jer stares hard at Drew, and then he gets it. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I’m serious.”

“Oh.” He looks at Jake with a totally new expression on his face: sympathy. “Where did you get that bruise Jake?” he asks.

“Guess,” Drew says before he can answer.

Jer does not guess, but his fingers do travel towards his pocket. But instead of drawing out the pack, he brings his hand up to his face in a gesture that looks like he‘s stroking his chin. Actually, he is rubbing his facial scar. The three in the living room watch him in silence. “I need to smoke,” Jer finally announces. His voice is suddenly a lot deeper, and completely dead of any of the emotions or animation he had possessed only seconds before.

“What about Jake?” Tommy asks.

“Jake can stay,” Jer says. He crosses the living room and exits out to the balcony, shutting the sliding glass door behind him.