by M. E. Parker
It made me both happy and sad to look at it. In many ways it reminded me of all the happy times of my childhood. I wasn’t sure how many nights Andy and I laid awake in that treehouse laughing and talking all night. It was also my first lesson in architecture, and I had Jack Michaelson to thank for that, a man I grew to admire more than my own father. But it was also a grim reminder of when I realized my father wasn’t perfect. It reminded of the day when I wished for the first time that he was more like Andy’s dad.
It took years before I was able to make sense of what happened back then. I was never able to connect what Mom and I watching a TV show that Dad didn’t like had to do with Andy or his dad. I never understood why our fathers stopped talking to each other or why the Michaelsons stopped coming to church or why our fathers never joined us for another camping trip. It wasn’t until a year ago, while I sat in the same spot, staring at the same picture, that I realized they knew. The Michaelsons knew even back then that Andy was gay. Maybe they even knew I was too. Maybe my father knew. Maybe that sermon was to let the Michaelsons know that he wasn’t okay with it.
I closed my eyes, opened them again, and looked at the drawing. What saddened me the most when I looked at the drawing was knowing I’d broken my promise to Andy. I’d betrayed him in the worst way. “Best friends, no matter what.”
chapter four
Andy
When I walked into my apartment, I was relieved that my roommate Cameron wasn’t home. Although, I was kind of worried that I hadn’t heard from him. He hadn’t come home the night before. It wasn’t unusual for Cameron to hook up at the Wild Orchid, but it was completely unusual for him to stay overnight with someone. Cameron didn’t do sleepovers. I envied him sometimes. Cameron didn’t do relationships.
As much as I relished the quiet apartment, I would never forgive myself if something happened to Cameron. I never thought I’d have such a close friend again, but Cameron and I had been roommates since freshman year and he’d become like a brother to me. I looked around the apartment. I didn’t see any signs that he’d been home, and it was nearly six o’clock. Worried, I pulled out my phone and texted him.
ME: Where r u?
ME: If you don’t text back within the next ten minutes… I’m calling the authorities… right after I figure out who the authorities are…
CAM: At the library
ME: I was sure you’d been abducted. There are no dirty dishes in the sink.
CAM: Funny. U ok?
ME: Yeah???
CAM: I just heard.
I rolled my eyes. Of course, he already knew. Half the bar probably saw Mark and Christopher together the night before and, knowing Christopher, he probably posted something about his sore ass on Instagram.
ME: It’s fine.
CAM: WTF??? Total fuckwad. YOU CAN DO SO MUCH BETTER.
CAM: Don’t even get me started on that twink-ass ho…
CAM: Good riddance
CAM: ILY Maybury
A smile played across my lips as Cam’s texts came through.
ME: LY2
CAM: See u in a few hours
I tossed my phone on the kitchen counter. Some time alone was just what I needed. Luckily, I hadn’t had much time to think about what happened that morning because I’d had an Organic Chemistry exam, gone to two other classes, and worked a shift at the bakery.
Completely exhausted, I stripped down and took a shower, threw on my most comfortable pair of sweats, poured myself a large glass of red wine, turned off all the lights in the apartment, and lit some candles. Then I did something I hadn’t done in years. I connected my phone to the Bluetooth speaker in the living room and pulled up Chance’s playlist. I don’t know how many times I’d listened to it my senior year of high school. It consisted of every sad song written during my high school years. They all reminded me of him.
Don’t judge me. It wasn’t like I was still obsessed with Chance Wyrick. It had been years since we’d spoken. It had also been years since I’d sat in the dark and listened to sad music that reminded me of him. But, for some reason, he’d been creeping into my consciousness the entire day. Deep down, I knew Mark wasn’t the guy for me, but I also knew that whatever my feelings were for Chance had been holding me back. I took a big gulp of my wine and closed my eyes and let my head fall back on the couch.
As Adele’s voice drifted through the apartment, I realized I needed to let him go. It was way past time. It was the only way I’d be able to have a real relationship. As much as I admired Cameron, I wasn’t like him. I wanted a boyfriend and I wasn’t gonna let Chance hold me back. It wasn’t like he was perfect or the only guy on Earth. There are plenty of hot guys out there. Good ones. Who are gay. Ones who are kind and loveable and good at sex. That’s what you need, I told myself. Forget Chance Wyrick. There are tons of guys out there better than him.
As much as I wanted it to, my internal pep talk wasn’t working. I wasn’t sure if it was the darkness, the music, or the wine that had me feeling nostalgic. But instead of convincing myself to let it go, my mind drifted to the day when I knew with one-hundred-percent certainty that I was in love with him. We were on our annual camping trip and had just started high school…
As we sat next to one another on the rocky river bank in silence, I watched his wild dark hair ripple in the wind. He looked so much older than me. His shoulders were broad, and he was at least two inches taller than I was. I couldn’t help but notice the curves of his biceps through his fleece pullover. He was the hottest guy I’d ever seen. He was the guy I imagined kissing when I jerked off. Well, it went back and forth between him and the High School Musical version of Zac Efron, but mostly it was Chance.
The truth was, we didn’t have much in common. We both loved riding bikes, running through the woods, and playing video games. But that’s where our similarities ended. I figured out pretty early on that I’d rather be in the kitchen with my mom helping her bake something or working on a craft project, or reading a book, rather than being out in the front yard throwing a football with my dad. I was all about reading and science and Chance Wyrick was all about sports… any sport, really. He was always the best one on the team, and it didn’t matter what kind of team it was.
Our differences didn’t seem to matter for a long time. We were pretty much inseparable until the previous year. It was inevitable that we would eventually separate. He started hanging out with the jocks and I started hanging out with the nerds. But after school on most days, it was like nothing had changed. He would just walk through my front door, go straight up to my bedroom, and we’d start playing video games. We still knew everything about each other’s life, we just stopped acknowledging each other at school.
Chance had his knees pulled up in front of him and was tracing some inconceivable pattern on the massive rock we were sitting on with a stick. I liked to think of it as our rock. It was the first place we came to every year as soon as we were done setting up camp. I wondered what he’d think if he knew how obsessed I was with him. I hadn’t told anyone I was gay. But I knew I was. There wasn’t a chance in hell I’d ever tell him. In fact, he was the last person I’d ever tell. He shook his head and tossed his stick in the water and looked over at me. His cheeks were red from the cold air and his big caramel eyes sparkled with golden flecks in them when he looked at me. I could feel my face turn red and I immediately looked down and started throwing pebbles in the river, hoping he couldn’t read my thoughts.
“You really going to homecoming with Marci Jenkins?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes. It wasn’t something I was excited about, but she made a big deal out of asking me and I felt bad saying no. “Yeah. I guess. Are you going with anyone?”
He cleared his throat. “I asked that new girl, Kara Watkins?”
“Yeah. I know who she is. Blonde, big tits, dance team.”
He laughed. “Yeah, she’s fucking hot, dude.”
I rolled my eyes again and felt a pang of red-hot jealousy hit me in the chest.
It was our freshman year of high school and, so far, neither of us had much experience with girls. Chance had been too busy playing every sport known to man and, well, I was just me. I shouldn’t hate a girl I never talked to or met, but I did. That’s why I did my best in that moment to slut-shame her. “Yeah. I heard she made out with two different guys at Jake Holloway’s party. I also heard her parents caught her doing it with some older kid from Wilsonville and that’s why she had to come to school here.” Everything I said to him was pretty much a big lie, except the part about her making out with two guys at Jake’s party (I heard that part from Marci’s friend Shelly, a completely unreliable source). I felt a little sick to my stomach after I said it. It wasn’t like me to do something like that.
I looked over at him. His face was red. He shrugged. “I don’t think that’s true. I was at Jake’s party and she did make out with Matt Hoffner, but that’s it. She told Kerri Sidner that she didn’t like him. Supposedly, she likes me. I don’t know.”
I cleared my throat and kept chucking rocks in the river. “Well, I guess she does or she wouldn’t have said she’d go to the dance with you.”
“Yeah, I guess so. I’m pretty sure she’s gonna want to make out.”
A sarcastic snicker escaped my lips. “Most likely. So what?” I was trying not to be an asshole, but the whole idea of Chance making out with someone else pissed me off. I knew I was being completely irrational, but I couldn’t help it.
“So, I’ve never done it. Have you?”
I rolled my eyes. “What? Made out with someone?”
“Yeah?”
“Chance—this is me we’re talking about. No.”
“Well, do you think Marci will want to?”
I shrugged because I hadn’t really thought about it. “I don’t know. Maybe. Are you really worried about it?”
I looked over at him and his face was still red. “Fuck no.” He ran his fingers through his wild dark hair and sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe. Aren’t you? What if I fuck it up or I don’t know what I’m doin’ or something and she tells people?”
My eyes were completely focused on Chance’s lips and I don’t know what came over me but before I could stop myself I blurted out, “We could practice.”
His face was bright red and mine felt hot. I was sure I was redder than he was. Why did I just say that? He looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “With each other?” The way he said it sounded less like a legitimate question and more like a “Are you fucking kidding me?” rhetorical question.
But at that point I’d said it and I couldn’t take it back. “Yeah. I mean, who else could we practice with? If we did it first, it wouldn’t be as weird with the girls. It’s just an idea. You don’t have to get all freaked out about it.”
All of the sudden, I felt a stinging punch to my left arm. It hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, but I wasn’t gonna tell Chance that. “Okay. Shit! Chill out. It was just an idea.”
Chance was quiet, and I was busy praying I could invent a time machine and go back to five minutes ago until he spoke again. “If we do this, dude, you can’t tell anybody.”
“Who the fuck am I gonna tell? It’s not exactly something I would want to go around broadcasting.”
The next thing I knew, he had scooted closer to me. “You be the girl. What should I do first?”
My heart was pounding. I kept wondering if the whole thing was really happening. I took a deep breath and took off my glasses and put them down on the rock beside me. “It’s not like I’m an expert or anything, but I think girls like it if you start with a regular kiss first—like soft and gentle.” Chance grabbed the back of my head and pressed his soft lips against mine for a few seconds and then pulled back.
“Like that?”
I swallowed hard. That was the first time I understood what it meant to have butterflies in your stomach. I rasped, “Yeah. Like that.”
His face was still red when he leaned in and kissed me again the same way. That time my lips parted and he slid his tongue inside my mouth. It was slow at first as our tongues explored, and then the kiss grew more urgent. It was the best thing I’d ever felt. At some point, I wrapped my hand around his neck and pulled him closer to me. I don’t know how long we were kissing. It could have been hours. It could have been minutes. All I knew was that I didn’t want to stop. It was better than I had ever imagined. By the time he pulled away, I was out of breath and he was too. I could feel my dick straining against my jeans and I pulled my knees up to my chest, hoping he couldn’t tell I had a boner.
He wiped his hand over his face. “Do you think we did it right?”
I couldn’t help but grin. “Yeah. I think. I mean, it felt good, right?”
He ran his hands through his incredible dark hair. “Yeah. I mean… yeah, I think it was right.” He backhanded me across the chest. “Remember, nobody hears about this.”
I rolled my eyes and said, “Duh.” I really wanted to ask him to practice again, but I didn’t want to press my luck.
I knew I made the right call as soon as he jumped up. “Race you back to camp!” I watched him take off running and I put my glasses back on, got up, and jogged after him. There was no reason to try. Even if he gave me a thirty-second head start, I never would have beat him.
The Saturday morning after homecoming, I was sitting on the floor at the foot of my bed playing Xbox when I heard his familiar footsteps running up the stairs. My bedroom door flew open and he slammed it behind him and fell on my bed. “So, did you make out with Marci last night?” I didn’t bother looking at him. I just kept playing the game. It hadn’t exactly been weird between us, but it was hard for me to look at him without thinking about kissing him.
I shrugged. “Yeah. A little.” That was a complete lie. We didn’t even kiss goodnight.
“Was it good?”
I shrugged again. “It was alright.”
“You guys dating now?”
“Nah. We’re just friends.”
I continued playing the game, hoping the subject was closed. But it wasn’t.
“I made out with Kara after the dance behind the school before her dad picked her up.”
My heart dropped. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, she must have liked it because she let me touch her boob. I mean, it was over her dress, but still.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Yeah, I guess. I mean, even though it was weird, it was probably good that we practiced.”
“Yeah? So, are you dating her now?”
“Yeah… I mean, I guess. She asked me if we were and I said yes.”
I felt sick to my stomach. “Well, glad I could help.”
He laughed. “Don’t be a douche. And remember, no one hears about what we did.”
“Jesus! Would you quit saying that? Who the fuck would I tell?” I grumbled.
He jumped off the bed and sat down on the floor next to me and grabbed a controller. “Start a new game,” he said, like it never happened.
A new song began to play and Rhianna and Eminem jolted me out of my thoughts. I opened my eyes and realized there was a tear running down my cheek. I wiped it away with my shoulder and took another sip of my wine. The memory of that kiss was etched in my brain. It was years ago and sometimes I thought I could still feel his lips on mine. It was crazy. He was the only person I’d ever kissed until I went away to college, and when I finally kissed other guys—guys I hadn’t tricked into kissing me, that actually wanted to kiss me—it never felt that good. I’d never felt like that kissing anyone else.
I shook my head and laughed. It was ridiculous. I was chasing a ghost. I was sure I’d built it up in my mind to be something it wasn’t. I was fourteen. I needed to get over it. But I wasn’t over it and it pissed me off. It pissed me off because I should have been crying over Mark. My real boyfriend, the one I’d actually dated for a year. The one who cheated on me. I gulped down the rest of my wine and went to the kitchen to pour another glass while I tried to s
ort out why my break up with Mark had me obsessing over my ex-best friend four years later.
As soon as I fell back down on the couch and got situated, I heard a key in the door and then Cameron’s voice. “Oh, hell no!” he shouted. I flinched when he flipped on the kitchen light. “You are not sitting in the dark, drinking alone, listening to sad music over fuckface. I’m not going to let it happen.”
“It’s not sad music,” I said lamely.
“Oh, really?” Cam said as he walked into the living room and snatched my phone off the coffee table. “Exhibit one: Adele—"Someone Like You”. Exhibit Two: Rhianna and Eminem—"I Love the Way You Lie”. Exhibit Three: Christina Perri—"Jar of Hearts”. Should I keep going? Because I can. Dear God, did you actually make this playlist? Is this a breakup playlist?”
I held out my hand. “Can I please have my phone?” The last thing I wanted was for him to discover what I’d named the playlist.
As he handed me my phone, he looked at me and let out a loud, dramatic gasp and covered his mouth with his hand. “Oh my god, look at you. You’ve completely let yourself go.”
I chuckled as I looked down at myself. I put my hand on my chest when I realized I was wearing an old faded football t-shirt I’d swiped from Chance in the eleventh grade. My sweats had a hole in the knee and paint splatters on them from when I painted Mom’s garage over the summer. “We only broke up twelve hours ago, I’m not sure it’s possible to completely let yourself go in twelve hours. It’s fine, Cam. I just wanted to be comfortable,” I said, pushing my glasses back up my nose.
Cameron fell on the couch beside me and put his hand on my knee. “Oh, honey, this is so much worse that I thought.” He cleared his throat. “Okay. So, you know this is actually a blessing in disguise, right? I mean, Mark Jacobs is hot, I’ll give you that. But he’s a whiny ass bitch and, honestly, he doesn’t have a lot going upstairs, which might be alright if he was nice. But he just isn’t. I mean, he forgot your birthday, Andy. And last year, when you got the flu, he disappeared for two weeks. He might be a good fuck, I don’t know. But he’s definitely not boyfriend material.”
