Promises (Coda Book 1)

by Marie Sexton

  In the end, Cole canceled his trip, and they made up. But it was clear things were no longer quite as perfect as they’d been.

  THE FINAL two months of school seemed to last an eternity. Caleb quietly flunked out and went home, leaving me once again depressingly celibate. I was too busy cramming for finals and working to do anything about my lack of sex life. The tiny bit of time I had left over, I used tutoring Cole in physics.

  “You’re a natural at this,” Cole said one day.

  “What? At physics?”

  “No. At teaching. Have you thought about it?”

  I hadn’t, actually, but it suddenly seemed like the best idea in the world. A bit of investigation told me adding a second major of elementary education would add another semester or two to my college career, but that seemed reasonable.

  I was going to teach physics. I suddenly had a purpose.

  Unfortunately, the closer we got to finals, the more Cole and Bryan argued.

  It was the same fight all over again. Cole wanted to leave town for summer. Paris, New York, San Diego, Hawaii—anywhere, it seemed, but Fort Collins, Colorado. Bryan had a part-time job with the banquet department of a hotel on the edge of campus, and he’d saved a decent amount of money, but our freshman year was about to end, as was our time in the dorms. It quickly became apparent he’d need every penny of his savings for first month’s rent plus a damage deposit on an apartment.

  That led to a new argument—Bryan and I could only afford the crappiest of places. We’d all but settled on a two-bedroom in Ramblewood, a shitty, run-down apartment complex on the northwest side of town. On the bright side, it housed so many students, it had its own bus to shuttle them to and from campus, and there was always a party to be found on the weekend. But a quick tour of the apartments brought out Cole’s inner drama queen.

  “Good lord, has that carpet ever even been cleaned?” he asked the landlord as we looked around. “I can tell the previous tenants smoked. Is there anything we can do about that?”

  “Yeah,” the landlord said around a mouthful of something I didn’t want to identify. “You can live someplace else.”

  After much back-and-forth, Cole agreed to sign the Ramblewood lease, which started the first of June. Bryan and I had very little to move. Cole didn’t have much more but didn’t waste any time buying a brand-new bedroom set, which he had delivered.

  We didn’t see him again until September.

  BRYAN AND I became best buds over the summer. We went mountain biking together and played Frisbee golf. We made friends with our neighbors and spent plenty of evenings doing what college kids were meant to do—drinking and getting high. We also scoured yard sales in search of furniture, feeling triumphant each time we found something we could afford. We ended up with the world’s ugliest couch, a low, wide blue armchair that you couldn’t sit in without your ass hitting the floor, and a coffee table with one broken leg (some duct tape fixed it up just fine). We hung old sheets up as curtains, slept late every day, and dragged our asses to the on-site laundry facilities only when absolutely necessary.

  In other words, we lived like average nineteen-year-old bachelors.

  We received postcards from Cole, several of which mentioned somebody named Devin. Each time, I saw Bryan’s eyes darken.

  “I’ve always worried he’s going to meet somebody else,” Bryan said. “And now he has.”

  “He wouldn’t mention this Devin guy if he was cheating on you,” I told him. “Think about it. If he was sleeping with him, he’d keep him a secret, right?”

  He wasn’t convinced.

  COLE ARRIVED only a few days before the fall semester started, skin darker and hair lighter from being in the sun. He hugged me and kissed me on the cheek. Then I vacated the premises in a hurry so he and Bryan could make up for lost time.

  Devin, it turned out, wasn’t a guy at all, but a girl. That should have put Bryan’s mind at ease, but there was still plenty of trouble in paradise.

  As fall wore on, Bryan spent less time at home, and more time with friends he’d met working at the hotel. I hated it not so much because I missed him, but because it was one more thing for him and Cole to fight about. Frequently, I came home to find them both sullen. Several times, I caught Cole crying. They always stopped arguing the minute I entered the room, but by the time Thanksgiving rolled around, I was beginning to wonder how we’d make it through a year-long lease together. To make matters worse, Cole had already made plans to fly to New York for Christmas.

  “He’s going back to see Ron,” Bryan confided to me one night, after Cole had gone to bed.

  “Who’s Ron?”

  “The guy he lost his virginity to. He’s, like, fifteen years older than us, and he seduced Cole years ago. Can you believe that? This guy was pushing thirty, pressuring Cole into having sex—”

  “That doesn’t mean he’s going back to see him,” I argued.

  “He is. He has this weird obsession with him. Haven’t you ever noticed how often he mentions him? He sees him every time he goes to New York.”

  I didn’t remember ever hearing the name “Ron” tumble from Cole’s lips. Then again, I hadn’t been paying that close of attention.

  Bryan opted to stay in Colorado that year for Christmas, but they fought bitterly before Cole left, which meant Cole asked me to drop him off at the airport. We took his car, but he didn’t seem to want to drive. He tossed me the keys, then spent the first fifteen minutes of the trip wiping tears from his eyes. I had a feeling things weren’t much better for Bryan. They’d started out giddy in love. I hated to see them causing each other so much pain.

  “I keep thinking about the last half of my senior year, after Bryan and I met,” Cole said at last.

  “What about it?”

  “I was completely alone up until then. Just me and a couple of housekeepers who were paid to care but couldn’t wait for me to be gone.” He shook his head. “Bryan was like a godsend. I honestly don’t know if I would have made it through that year, if it hadn’t been for him.”

  “You guys were crazy about each other from day one.”

  “We were,” he said, his voice small.

  I risked a glance over at him. “Have you considered staying home, just to make him happy?”

  “Of course. But my mother made me promise I’d visit her.”

  He mentioned his mother so seldom, I almost forgot she wasn’t dead, like his father. “And… what about Ron?”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” He sighed. “I’ve known Ron my whole life.”

  “And?”

  “And yes, he was my first. He paid attention to me when nobody else did. He took me to shows and to galleries and out for dinner. And eventually, he took me into his bed.”

  I took a deep breath, debating my next question. “How old were you?”

  “Fifteen. Too young, I know. My father had just died.”

  “Don’t you feel like he was taking advantage of you? Using your father’s death to get close to you?”

  “In hindsight, maybe. But that wasn’t how it felt at the time. It seemed like he cared about me when nobody else did.”

  I bit my lip and kept my eyes on the road, unsure how to respond.

  “Funny, isn’t it?” he said. “Everybody thinks they want my life, until they know the details. Then they only feel sorry for me.”

  And he hated for people to feel sorry for him. I knew him well enough to know that. “Bryan said you still see him every time you go to New York.”

  Cole rolled his eyes dramatically. “Ron’s house in the Hamptons is less than a block from mine. When I said ‘I see him every time,’ I meant in passing. He drives past, and we wave. That’s it. I haven’t had a real conversation with him or slept with him in years. I never intend to again either.” He turned away, sniffling. “Are you going home for Christmas?”

  I wasn’t surprised that he wanted to change the subject. “Maybe for a few days, but certainly not for the whole break.”

&n
bsp; “Well, you may as well use my car while I’m gone.”

  I had to remind myself to keep my eyes on the road. “Are you serious?” It was a Saab, only a couple of years old, and easily the nicest car I’d ever driven. “You know I live in the mountains, right?”

  “Don’t be silly, Jared. That’s what Saabs were made for.”

  COLE CALLED only three days after leaving for Christmas. Snow fell like crazy outside, making the line so staticky, we practically had to yell to hear each other.

  “Is Bryan home?” he asked.

  “He’s working.” He’d spent pretty much the entire weekend with people he’d met at the hotel. “What’s up?”

  Cole gave one of his most dramatic sighs. “My mother’s found an excuse to leave town without telling me. I thought maybe I’d come home early and surprise Bryan.”

  The thought made me smile. Bryan had been sullen and nearly unbearable since Cole had left. “I think that’s a great idea.”

  “Can you pick me up on Wednesday? My flight gets in at three.”

  “Of course.”

  Two days later, the snow was a distant memory and the sun was shining. Typical, for Colorado. Cole and I climbed into his Saab again—this time, with him driving—and headed home.

  He was bubbly and chatty, although it felt forced. He said nothing about New York, his mother, or Ron. Instead, he asked about my plans, then speculated on how he and Bryan could spend Christmas—now only three days away—in bed together, just as they had back when they’d met on the slopes. Maybe they could go skiing, something they hadn’t done together since the previous year.

  “I don’t mind paying for his lift ticket,” he said. “I keep telling him that, but it only makes him snippy. He says he doesn’t want my charity, which is ridiculous. It isn’t charity. We’re a couple! Maybe I could buy him a season pass for Christmas. That’d be okay, wouldn’t it? It’d be a gift that way. Maybe he’d feel better about it?”

  I wasn’t sure. I didn’t entirely understand Bryan’s hesitation to let Cole pay for things when Cole was obviously willing. Then again, Cole did have an annoying habit of assuming everybody in the world could jet off to Paris at the drop of a hat but simply chose not to out of sheer stupidity. The world of ordinary-person finance was completely beyond him.

  “Oh, good. His car’s here,” Cole said as he parked outside our apartment. “I hope he’s surprised.”

  “I’m sure he will be.”

  We climbed the steps to the second level. Cole swung open the front door.

  I caught it all in one quick glimpse—Bryan, shirtless on the couch. Another shirtless man, straddling his lap, his arms around Bryan’s neck. The looks on their faces as they jumped to their feet—Bryan, shocked and horrified. The other boy, completely confused.

  At least they still had their pants on.

  “Cole. What are you doing here? I thought you were in New York.”

  The whole world seemed to pop into slow motion. Cole turned to me, a horrible, heart-wrenching sadness in his eyes. “Well, I really did manage to surprise him, didn’t I?”

  I had no idea what to say. Cole walked into their bedroom and quietly closed the door behind him.

  Bryan, Mr. Shirtless, and I stood there, staring from one to the other.

  “I get the feeling I shouldn’t be here,” Bryan’s tagalong said at last, picking his shirt up off the floor. He put his hand on Bryan’s arm. “I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”

  Then it was just Bryan and me. I couldn’t remember ever being so angry.

  “Jared,” he said, stepping closer. “Listen. I can explain.”

  I turned and punched him without even thinking about it. Outside of a scrap I’d had with my brother when I was eight years old, it was the one and only punch I’d ever thrown at an actual person, and it showed. It didn’t exactly floor him. Still, it felt damn good.

  He put a hand over the side of his mouth where the punch had landed. I suspected he was more surprised than hurt. “What the hell?”

  I was tempted to punch him again. I didn’t, though. It wouldn’t help anything, and poor Cole was hiding in their bedroom, waiting for an explanation.

  “You’re an idiot,” I told him as I turned to leave. “If you have any brains whatsoever, you’ll go in there and beg him to take you back.”

  BY THE time I came home four hours later, Cole had a U-Haul parked in front of our apartment and two guys I’d never seen before loading up his bedroom furniture—the only nice furniture we’d had in the whole apartment, even if he and Bryan were the only ones who ever saw it. Bryan was holed up in their bedroom, and when I put my ear against it, I heard him crying.

  Cole seemed to have moved beyond tears. He stood with an icy resolve as the last of his stuff went into the truck, barely even moving when I stepped up next to him.

  “You hit him,” he said without turning to face me. “You hit him because of me.”

  “I probably shouldn’t have.”

  He softened a bit. “I can’t believe you did that. It was crass and brutish.” He leaned into me, resting his head on my shoulder. “Still, I appreciate the sentiment. I’d kiss you for it, if it weren’t likely to cause all kinds of problems.”

  I put my arm around his shoulders. “Where will you go?”

  “A hotel for now. I’ll start looking for something better tomorrow.”

  “I’m sorry. If I’d known—”

  “I’m glad you didn’t. It means only one of you betrayed me.”

  I looked toward the apartment that I still had to share with Bryan. “I kind of wish I could move out with you.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “You’re his friend too. I don’t expect you to choose one of us over the other.”

  At that moment, there was no doubt in my mind which one of them I’d choose. But finances dictated I stay put. I couldn’t afford to do anything else. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Thank you, Jared. I will.”

  I left for Coda that night. I’d been planning on heading home for Christmas the next day anyway. Leaving a few hours early seemed like a damned good idea.

  I RETURNED on the twenty-eighth to find Bryan on the couch, eight empty beer bottles on the coffee table in front of him. The apartment reeked of alcohol, unwashed bachelor, and self-pity.

  “Can we talk?” he asked.

  I sank down into the big blue chair, hoping I’d be able to get back up again when we were done. The chair had a way of swallowing you from the waist down. “I guess.”

  “The thing with Josh… it was a mistake.”

  Josh, I could only assume, was his couch buddy from the other night. “I can’t believe you’d do that to Cole.”

  “He was cheating on me.”

  “No, he wasn’t. And even if he was, is this how you handle it? By cheating back?”

  Tears welled up in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have done it. I know that. Part of me wants to beg him to take me back. But I hate it when he leaves town without me, and he always leaves town without me. I hate being stuck here knowing he could be doing anything while he’s gone.”

  “He loves you.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” He wiped his eyes angrily. “It’s over. We’ve been going downhill for months. It was only a matter of time.”

  I wavered. Yes, I was still annoyed at him, but Cole was right. Bryan was my friend too. And at that moment, it seemed like he was hurting as much as Cole.

  I wished there was something I could do for either of them, but there wasn’t.

  ON NEW Year’s Eve, Bryan asked if I wanted to go to a party with him. I didn’t have anything better to do, and my sexual frustration was reaching an all-new high. I hadn’t been with anybody since Caleb, the previous spring. Bryan was always talking about how many gay men he worked with at the hotel. Not surprisingly, my job at Checker was considerably more hetero-dominated.

  We rode our bikes there, even though it was bitterly cold outside, so we wouldn’t have to worry ab
out how to get home later. The party was loud and obnoxious, as only college parties can be. A group of guys in the corner were doing keg stands. One of the two bathrooms was already occupied by a girl throwing up while two of her friends held her hair. Bryan drank an alarming amount of Southern Comfort in a shockingly short time before ending up in a lip-lock with Josh in the corner.

  And somehow—God only knew how—Cole was there. I caught a quick glimpse of him across the living room, saw the pain in his eyes when he spotted Bryan, but by the time I made it through the press of bodies, he’d disappeared. It took me ages to figure out he’d slipped out the back door to the enclosed back porch.

  I put on my coat and dug a blanket out of a hall closet before following him. The space was warmer than outside, but still damn chilly. It held half a dozen ratty lawn chairs. The floor was nothing but bare cement. Despite the cold, Cole’s shoes were off. He sat in one of the chairs, hugging his knees, an empty bottle of wine in one hand. I didn’t see a glass anywhere. Tears made damp little trails down his cheeks.

  “Are you okay?”

  He started, quickly wiping his tears away. “I’m fine. You don’t have to babysit me.”

  “I’m not babysitting anybody.” I bumped into his shoulder playfully. “Hey. Have you noticed nobody else in college drinks wine? Unless it’s the Boone’s Farm variety.”

  “What on Earth is Boone’s Farm?”

  “Seriously?” We’d clearly been teenagers in radically different worlds. “It’s wine, in theory. It’s sweet and fruity and costs about three dollars a bottle.”

  “That sounds fabulous, actually. I don’t suppose you brought any with you.” He held his bottle aloft. “Mine’s empty.”

  “I’m afraid not, but I found this.” I wrapped the blanket around his thin shoulders. “You must be freezing.”

  “I am. Thank you.” He set the bottle down and pulled the blanket tighter around him. “You’ve always been so sweet to me.”

  I took the seat next to him, and together, we stared out the window into the empty, lifeless backyard. “I’m sorry about what happened.”