The Walls Of Troy Part 8

"Yep. Sometimes I just tell people I'm Italian." I gestured at myself. "I can pa.s.s, at least until someone finds out my name."

"Yeah, I guess that's not a very Italian name."

"Nope."

Troy studied me for a moment, then folded his hands on top of his book. "So, I'm curious."

"Okay?"

"You obviously read a lot. And even when Dr. Bodner puts you on the spot, you know what you're talking about." He played with the corner of his textbook. "Why did you join the military instead of going to college in the first place?"

"I enlisted mostly because I needed the GI Bill. I couldn't afford to pay my own way through college, and my folks basically said I was on my own." I shrugged. "Then the Navy offered me a sweet reenlistment bonus, so I stayed in. And by the time that enlistment was up, I was halfway to retirement. So...I figured I'd stay for the long haul."

"Makes sense."

"I'm surprised your dad didn't push you to join." I gestured at our books. "Or is he hoping you'll go into ROTC?"

Troy laughed. "He wanted me in the Navy, but..." He shook his head. "I've lived the military life since I was a kid. I know some people thrive in that, but I'm looking forward to getting away from it."

"Don't want to move around every ten minutes?"

He groaned. "Oh my G.o.d, no. I am so looking forward to moving in somewhere and just...staying there. For years."

I laughed. "Yeah, I can relate. This s.h.i.t's not for the faint of heart."

"No, it isn't."

"So what are you planning on doing? After you graduate?"

Troy tapped his pen on his notepad. "I haven't really decided yet. Kind of hoped college would give me a chance to figure it out."

"Sounds like a good idea. Anything calling to you yet?"

"Eh, not really. My dad insisted I should major in something business related, but I think I'd rather drink antifreeze."

"So, no MBA for you?"

He made a face and a gagging noise. "f.u.c.k, no."

"Same here. Business cla.s.ses put me to sleep."

"Right? History and English might not get me a job as a CEO, but at least they're interesting."

"Amen to that."

Our eyes met, and we both smiled. Then we shifted our attention to our books and quietly started working our way through the chapter.

Tried to, anyway. I struggled not to steal glances at him. Despite the ink-black hair, the piercings, and that smoky black eyeliner, he'd shaken off that emo exterior. Suddenly it was all just a look. A costume. Something that hid who he was, rather than throwing it in the whole world's face in f.u.c.k-you fashion.

He'd lifted that veil before, but only a little at a time and only to reveal the fear underneath. The vulnerability he didn't want to acknowledge but couldn't deny.

This time, though, he was something different entirely. Sealed in a room with me in the back of the library, with no one else around except someone whose sole purpose was to protect him by any means necessary, he was relaxed. Comfortable. He was just a normal, unafraid guy without the persona his exterior advertised. Like one of those people who did cosplay at comic conventions, staying in character the entire time, but then lowering the mask while they grabbed lunch or a cigarette. Still dressed up, still painted as someone else, but slipping out of character and back into their own skin while no one was looking.

No one except for me, in this case. Alone with me, he'd given the broody, sullen persona a break, leaving behind this kid who shared my love of Harry Potter and didn't quite know what he wanted to do with the future but was optimistic about it and had an idea of what he didn't want to do. There was more to him than black nails and an att.i.tude.

And he didn't need to know that the more I saw what was behind the veil, the harder it was for me to find my breath, because what was underneath had my Achilles' heel written all over it. h.e.l.l, I was even getting used to the eyeliner, if only because it drew my attention straight to the bluest eyes I'd ever seen. Because that helped me unscramble my thoughts.

Troy was proud, and he was tougher than even he probably realized. Reluctantly vulnerable, as if he didn't want to be protected but wasn't too stupid or too proud to pretend he didn't need to be. Something about that combination f.u.c.ked with me. Always had.

His eyes flicked up, and I realized I'd been staring at him instead of my book.

I quickly lowered my gaze to the text. What the h.e.l.l was all this? Words?

"So, um." He cleared his throat, and I cautiously met his eyes again. "The other day, when we were talking about hara.s.sment of queer kids, you said not to make any a.s.sumptions. About you. I, um..." He gnawed his lip. "What did..."

"I meant I've been there."

He met my eyes through his long lashes. "You have?"

I nodded. "Not exactly the same. I mean, I've never had notes on my car or anything like that. But the, uh, spirit of it? Yeah."

Troy's lips parted. "Are you..." His eyes flicked toward the door and the empty s.p.a.ce just beyond it.

I kept my voice low. "Am I gay?"

Eyes wide, he nodded.

So did I.

"Wow. I...hadn't..." He m.u.f.fled a cough and sat back. "I hadn't guessed. What are the odds of both of us being gay?"

I thumbed my chin. "Probably better than you think."

"How do you figure?"

"The commander at my last command specifically asked me to take the orders. Said he owed your dad a favor, and handpicked me for it." I shook my head. "Funny, I thought it was because he thought I was a good cop. Didn't realize it was because I'm gay."

"So you're out?"

"Sort of. A few people know. He happened to be one of them."

Troy ran his pen back and forth along the spiral binding on his notebook. "Huh. I didn't think my dad had specifically asked for a gay bodyguard."

I shrugged. "Well, if the issue is with h.o.m.ophobia, he probably wanted to make sure the person with you wasn't going to contribute to that."

Troy shuddered. "Probably a smart move."

"Your dad obviously knows you're gay, then?"

He threw me a sidelong glance. "Dude. Look at me."

Oh, I have. Probably more times than- I cleared my throat. "I don't know. Plenty of straight guys pull the"-I waved a hand at him-"punk look."

"I guess, yeah. But ever since I started dressing like this, not too many people have been all that surprised when I've said I'm gay."

"And your dad isn't... He's not bothered by it?"

"Nah. He wasn't great about it in the beginning, but he came around." Troy grimaced. "He'd have a coronary if he knew about some of the guys I've dated, though."

I laughed. "I think we all have a few of those."

"Some of us more than others." His eyes lost focus for a second, but then he shook himself and met my gaze again. "So you've got some f.u.c.ked-up exes too?"

"A few, yeah." I sat back, lacing my hands behind my head as I stretched. "I dated one guy who didn't want to let me go. When I tried to end the relationship, he threatened to out me to my command."

Troy blinked. "What a d.i.c.k!"

"Right? Fortunately, that was the same year DADT was lifted, so at least he couldn't end my career anymore, but I still didn't want to be out."

Troy grimaced. "Christ. What'd you do?"

I lowered my gaze, heat rushing into my cheeks as that all too familiar sense of shame twisted beneath my ribs. "I stayed with him."

"For how long?"

I swallowed hard and looked at him through my lashes. "Another year." More to myself than him, I added, "Another miserable f.u.c.king year."

"How'd you finally get rid of him?"

"The problem kind of resolved itself. He got caught with our master chief's husband, and she basically made both their lives h.e.l.l. By the time I confronted him about it, the entire command already knew, so it wasn't like he could deny it. He moved out the next day."

Troy shifted. "d.a.m.n. And he didn't out you?"

"Surprisingly, no. But I think he had bigger fish to fry at that point. I suspect our master chief told him to keep his head down and his mouth shut, or having his career destroyed would be the least of his problems. All I know is he moved out, and I never heard from him again."

"So you had to wait until he f.u.c.ked up? Before you got rid of him?"

"Unfortunately."

His eyes widened, and I realized he'd paled a little. "Jesus."

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah." He cleared his throat and squirmed in his chair. "I just can't believe you were stuck with that a.s.shole for that long." He lowered his gaze, rapidly tapping his pen on his notebook. "I haven't had a lot of relationships. Can't say I'm really looking forward to ever having to shake off somebody like that." He laughed humorlessly. "Makes you wonder if dating is even worth it."

"Sometimes, yeah."

And I'll be d.a.m.ned if Troy didn't shudder.

"You sure you're all right?" I asked.

"Yeah. I'm..." He waved a hand. "I'm good." He cleared his throat. "Has it, uh, been all bad?"

"No, of course not. I've dated some good people too."

"Yeah?"

I nodded.

He laid his pen down, clasped his hands together, and stretched. "But it's never worked out with any of them?"

"Nah." I sighed. "The Navy's hard on relationships, and I'm not very good at them. My marriage was probably the least disastrous of all of them."

Troy sat up a little. "You've been married?"

I nodded.

"So, out of curiosity, are you bi? Or was it..."

"A sham marriage?"

"Right."

"I'm not bi. I was just pretty deep in denial. I'd date a guy for a while, then freak out over things and go back into denial. Usually about the time we either broke up or I was afraid I'd have to come out to my parents."

"That why you got married?"

I shrugged. "Yes and no. I mean, we really did love each other, just not...not in the way spouses should have, I guess."

"So how did that even work?" He raised his eyebrows. "If you don't mind me asking, I mean."

"It's fine." I sat back, letting out a long breath. "We met in school between boot camp and going to our first duty stations. She came here to Norfolk, and I went to San Diego. We did the long-distance thing for a few months, then got married, and a year later, she transferred to a ship out of San Diego, so we could finally live in the same place. So of course, I deployed to Afghanistan within three months, and I came back two weeks before she went to Iraq."

"That's one h.e.l.l of a long-distance relationship."

"No kidding. Honestly, though, that's probably the only reason it lasted as long as it did. Once we actually had to live together and make it work from day to day, the whole thing started unraveling. We were both f.u.c.ked up from going to the Middle East, which didn't help. Then, of course, I started figuring out I was gay, and..." I shook my head. "So we got a divorce."

"Wow. After how many years together?"

"Not quite four, all told." I tapped my fingers beside the textbook I'd been ignoring. "You're, um, the first person I've told about that in a long time."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I...don't talk about it much." I watched him for a moment. "So, um, what about you?"

Troy jumped. "What?"

"You said you haven't dated much. What's your experience been like? Good? Bad?"