of the opening, but was more convinced of it in the last week that he and Zack had spent together. And it wasn’t just a spiritual and mental weirdness. Something was happening to him, changing, physically.
No matter what Zack ate, or how much food Quincy plied him with, Zack seemed to be wasting away before Quincy’s eyes. A diet was one thing, but as lean as Zack already was, without an extra ounce of fat on his 5’9” frame, Quincy didn’t see the need for one.
If he didn’t know better, he’d swear Zack was on the pipe, bulimic or that he had the monster. The latter he knew wasn’t true because since Quincy’s first visit to Zack’s when they’d agreed to be exclusive, he and Zack had exchanged their most recent medical information. Zack’s last negative test had been six months before, just like Quincy’s.
Bulimia was as unlikely. Zack had a healthy appetite and ate his share, but what he put in his body didn’t seem to stick. Also, he and Quincy had been in each other’s company almost constantly for the last week and Quincy never saw Zack make any of those tell-tale trips to the bathroom after a meal.
Weird and creepy and it reminded Quincy of that Stephen King book, Thinner.
That left the pipe.
Quincy knew the signs of crack and drug abuse better than anyone. He’d spent the better part of his late teen years ministering to a mother too fragile to deal with the realities of her husband’s desertion and her only son’s homosexuality.
Zack and the Dark Shaft
65
Otherwise healthy, Zack had all the classic signs of crack addiction—rapid weight loss, dark circles under the eyes and, sometimes, ashen skin tone. He knew from the last several nights that Zack didn’t get enough sleep, and certainly not restful sleep. This alone could have been behind the dark circles, even the weight loss.
Whatever was going on, Quincy decided he was going to put a stop to it, even if he had to stage a one-man intervention.
* * * *
When Zack opened the door, Quincy held up a picnic basket filled to the brim with a little bit of everything he thought a growing boy needed to put on weight and stay healthy.
Zack gestured at the picnic basket. “What’s all this?” He stepped aside to let Quincy into his loft.
Quincy peered at him, noticing his sculpted features looked a tad sharper, more pronounced, just this side of gaunt. Not much better or worse than he’d looked yesterday. He guessed that was a good sign. “We’re going on a picnic.”
Zack chuckled. “Can you be anymore corny? Or obvious?”
“It’s called being spontaneous and romantic. You should try it sometime, you ingrate.”
Zack slid his arms around Quincy and nuzzled his chest. “I appreciate the thought.” He pulled back to look Quincy in the eyes.
Quincy melted from the sincere intensity he saw glowing from the depths of those well-loved, blue eyes, but he wasn’t going to be swayed from what he wanted to do.
“I appreciate you, Quincy.”
Quincy put down his booty to lift Zack into his arms. Zack automatically wrapped his legs around Quincy’s waist and his arms around Quincy’s neck.
“How did you get to be so irresistible?”
“Am I?’
66
Gracie C. McKeever
“You know you are.” Quincy pecked his nose and ran his thumb from Zack’s forehead to his chin, tracing the bones before shuddering. “You need to eat more.”
“If I eat anymore than you and my mother insist on feeding me, I’ll explode.”
“You should see a doctor.”
“We’ve had this discussion already. And I told you, the doctor said I’m fine and that the weight loss isn’t anything to be alarmed about.”
“Because he doesn’t know what’s causing it,” Quincy grumbled.
“He doesn’t need to because I…I know what’s causing it.”
“Care to enlighten me ?”
“Not yet.”
“What is it you’re trying so hard not to tell me?”
Zack unwrapped and lowered his legs, signaling that he wanted to be put down.
Quincy