Dissonance by Shira Anthony Page B

called her “quest for perfection,” she’d dropped it after a few months. This thought led him to wonder if he’d been a fad with her too.
    “You okay?” Galen frowned, and Cam realized he’d been holding his tea so long his fingers were burning. He set the cup down, spilling a bit of the liquid onto the table.
    “Perfectly fine.”
    “Sleep okay?” Galen stood up, retrieved a sponge from the sink, and wiped up the spill.
    “Quite well,” Cam lied. “Thank you. The bed is very comfortable,” he added, which of course was true.
    “Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”
    The question took Cam aback. They’d gone from small talk to best mates in the span of twenty-four hours? “What for?” What could he possibly feel the need to tell Galen?
    Galen shrugged and offered Cam an understanding smile. “I just wanted you to know I’m a good listener,” he said. “If you ever feel you need to talk about things.”
    Cam schooled his expression and did his best to sound conciliatory. “I appreciate the offer. And I appreciate what you’ve done for me. But I’m perfectly fine.”
    “No problem.” Galen finished the last bit of his toast, then asked, “More tea?”
    “Thank you.”
    Galen snagged the teapot and strainer from the counter and walked back to the table. “So what would you like to do today?”
    “ Do ?” As in a date? Or maybe a play date.
    “It’s Sunday, the weather is beautiful, and I was thinking maybe we could go to the flea market or something.” Galen refilled Cam’s tea, then his own.
    Cam felt the panic return with a jolt to his gut. If he went out, they’d find him, wouldn’t they? Stop it! They’re not so interested in you that they’ll be knocking on doors in New Jersey.
    “Cam?”
    Cam realized he’d been silent for a minute, maybe more. “I… ah…. I probably should be getting back.”
    “Where do you need to be?” The same words Galen had spoken when he’d bought Cam coffee.
    “I’ve got someone I need to meet. In Manhattan,” he added quickly.
    Galen wiped down the table, dried it—the man was so bloody neat—then sat back down facing Cam. “I know you don’t have anywhere to go. You wouldn’t have come here with me if you did.”
    Cam clenched his jaw. “I should get out of your hair. I’ll figure something out.”
    “You can stay as long as you need. Like I said, Max and I are used to having company.”
    “What kind of company?” Cam heard himself ask.
    Galen laughed, and Cam thought he saw a hint of pink on his cheeks. “Not the kind of company you’d imagine. Usually a stray kid. My brother, when he has business in the city. My folks, when they drive down from Maine.”
    “Stray kid?”
    “I teach high school, remember?” Galen put the top back on the jam jar and turned it so that the label faced toward Cam, perfectly aligned with the edge of the table. “You know, kid gets into a fight with a parent, threatens to run away?”
    “I wouldn’t know.” Cam stood up and walked over to the window. The wind had died down, leaving the yard covered in leaves.
    “I’m sorry,” Galen said as though he meant it, which just irritated Cam more.
    “Don’t be. I spent my formative years at a very expensive boarding school in Scotland. After my father died, my mother decided the best way to make a man out of me was to send me to an all-boys’ school.” Cam didn’t add that he’d learned early on that if he was going to survive there, he needed to “help” the older boys out. He’d been quite good at that too. Once, when he’d been caught blowing one of them behind a building, he’d even helped one of the teachers.
    “Doesn’t sound that great, the way you say it.”
    “I learned a lot.”
    Galen’s expression didn’t waver. “Is your mother still living?” he asked.
    Tactfully done change of topic. “I called her before I decided to take a nap in the subway station,” Cam said with a laugh he knew sounded bitter. “Shall