My friends started to suspect something was up with me. I had skipped Sunday night at Ty’s for the past two weeks, giving the excuse of homework. I hadn’t been texting any of my friends as frequently as I did before, and not once did I plan to meet any of them for drinks or dinner after school. I was avoiding them. It was partly because I wanted to spend as much time with Carter as possible, but also because I wasn’t really sure how much to tell them. Carter and I were official with each other; we had just been too self-absorbed to bother making it a big deal publicly.
On the Sunday of the third week, Ty texted me in our group chat to check if I was coming that night, which triggered a cacophony of messages from the group trying to guilt me into it.
When Ty texted, Carter and I were in his kitchen, making sandwiches for lunch. My phone was on the counter, and after the fourth or fifth time it buzzed, Carter started teasing me about having another boyfriend. I picked up my phone, saw the chain of melodramatic messages from Ty and Graham, and rolled my eyes.
“Who is it?” Carter asked when I put my phone back on the counter without responding.
“Just some friends of mine. We always do a thing on Sunday nights, and I’ve blown them off the last few weeks. They’re just razzing me,” I said. Unfazed, I reached into the cupboard to grab us some plates.
“I didn’t know that you were skipping stuff with your friends to spend time with me.” Carter looked concerned. “I don’t want you to feel like you can’t see them because we’re hanging out so much together.”
“It’s really not a big deal. It’s not like we would be doing anything important. Plus—” I handed him his plate and kissed him lightly. “—I like spending time with you.”
“Well, then, let’s both go. I’d like to meet the people you hang out with.” He raised an eyebrow and bit into his sandwich.
“No, it’s really not a big deal, C,” I said. “Let’s stay in. Work on that new song we’ve been playing with.”
I really didn’t know why I had such a problem with the idea of us both going. It had nothing to do with him. I just didn’t like to be the center of attention, and bringing a guy, any guy, but especially a famous one, would surely draw the focus on me.
“Please? I really don’t like the thought of you ditching your friends regularly for me.” Carter was clearly not going to let it go.
I relented. “Okay, if it’s really that important to you. Are you sure it doesn’t bother you that they know we’re dating? I’ve kept it a little quiet because I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, or get you trailed by paparazzi or something.”
“I was in the closet for a long time, babe. I’m so happy to be with you, and I never want to hide that. Let’s go, please? Unless it’s a no-boyfriends thing?”
I silently cursed him for being so sweet. “Fine,” I conceded. “They will definitely be surprised by me bringing a boyfriend, let alone this particular boyfriend, but if you’re okay with it, then I am too.”
“I can’t wait.” He grinned at me.
Chase
WE got to Ty’s a little later than we planned. Carter was so cute trying to choose what to wear to meet my friends, I couldn’t help but get us distracted on the way out the door. All the usual suspects were there when we walked into Ty’s.
“Well, well, well, the prodigal returns!” Ty pulled me into a hug.
“Ty, this is Carter, my… boyfriend,” I said when we separated, stumbling over the unfamiliar word coming off my tongue.
C smiled at the title. It was the first time I had introduced him to someone using it, and as foreign as it felt, it sounded pretty good.
“Hey, man,” Ty greeted Carter, completely cool, shaking his hand.
Ty didn’t react to either the title or the fact that he clearly knew who Carter was immediately.
“’Bout time this one got a man hanging round,” Ty teased me.
We stepped farther into the room. While it was busy with chatter when we arrived, it went silent when everyone noticed us. Graham was the first to speak.
“Holy shit,” he said to nobody in particular.
“Um, guys, this is Carter, my boyfriend.” The title came more easily the second time. I went around the room with the introductions. “C, this is Cara, Graham, Hannah, Jonathan, and his boyfriend, Jacob.”
There was a chorus of hellos and various other greetings, followed by a long silence as everyone stared at us.
“So, awkward question,” Graham started. Of course Graham would be the first to weigh in. “You’re like… famous, right?”
Carter snorted, holding back a laugh. “I dunno, man.”
“But, like, what the fuck are you doing with Boring Pants McGee over here? Does he have, like, a magic cock or something we don’t know about?” Graham kept going, not picking up on Carter’s sarcasm.
“Hey!” I protested, flinging the closest pillow at Graham in objection.
Carter couldn’t contain himself; he laughed out loud this time at Graham’s crass phrasing. He put his arms around my waist from behind, the PDA unexpected but not unwelcome. “I don’t think it would be wise to answer that,” Carter said over my shoulder in a solemn tone.
Then Carter brought his mouth to my ear. “I mean, he’s not wrong about the magic cock part.” Between his breath against my ear and the suggestion in his comment, my whole body shuddered involuntarily.
Our private exchange wasn’t all that subtle, judging by the snickers that followed from around the room.
“Now, now, keep it in your boring pants, Chasey,” Graham said.
“You started it, you asshole.” But there was no heat behind my words.
“Seriously, though, do we get to hear the story here?” Cara asked as Carter and I settled into the love seat along one of the walls. “’Cause we all watched the Grammys, and it seems like our little Chasey is the guy you told the whole world you were in love with.”
I rolled my eyes. Carter and I looked at each other.
“I told you we should have stayed home,” I stage-whispered, making him burst out laughing again.
Even though the whole exchange was a little awkward, it also felt surprisingly comfortable. Carter seemed to be enjoying my friends—at the very least, he wasn’t running away screaming from Graham. The whole thing felt… well, normal. Carter looked at me and we both shrugged, figuring we might as well tell the full story.
“Um, Chase and I met when we were young. We were best friends growing up. I guess we had feelings for each other as teenagers, but I was in denial that I was gay until a couple years ago. I did a shitty thing to him right before my family left town. It was horrible, and I’ve regretted it ever since. We didn’t talk for a long time. I saw an opportunity to reach out to him, try to get his attention, make amends. He came to see my show a couple weeks ago, and we reconnected. Realized we both still felt there was something there, and now… things are new but really good.” He slid his arm around me affectionately during the last sentence.
A chorus of “awws” followed Carter’s sweet description of our relationship.
Graham broke through the moment. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us! I mean, that you’re fucking a rock star, obviously, but that you have some long-lost love or shit back in your life.” He was mostly full of crap, but there was a little genuine hurt under the surface too.
“Yeah,” Cara echoed. “We don’t care who he is. We’re just happy our Cinderelley finally got his felly!”
“Sorry, guys. It’s only that it’s so new and we’re still figuring things out. I was going to say something, but I wasn’t sure how to really make the whole story make sense.” I grinned sheepishly. “It’s a little far-fetched.”
“That’s okay. We’re all happy for you, Chasey,” Ty said, touching my hand gently.
The heat fell off Carter and me, and we slipped into regular conversation for the next couple of hours. The group was curious about Carter, but it never felt like they were grilling him for insider info
rmation or starstruck by the celebrity he had achieved. It was more that they wanted to get to know him because we were together and they were protective of my heart. They would have done the same thing for anyone who brought a new partner into the group.
The group dwindled as the night went on—people leaving to go home and get ready for the week ahead. I was half asleep on the couch, resting against Carter’s strong arms. I yawned.
“Well, I think that’s our cue.” Carter looked at me adoringly.
“Yeah, we should take off. Thanks again, guys, for being so cool that I brought Carter with me.” I shook myself, trying to wake up enough to get home.
We said our goodbyes, put on our light jackets, and headed out into the night, happy the introductions had gone so well.
Chase
“HEY, babe?” Carter called out to me from the sofa, where he was watching some melodramatic cooking show yet again.
We were at his place the Saturday afternoon of the week following Ty’s party. Carter was gearing up to start working on Monday, rehearsing for a few days to get everything ready before they had studio time booked the following week. I was sprawled out at the kitchen table, buried chin deep in books for my final classical theory exam, which was coming up soon. It was a class that had been giving me trouble all semester, and I was ready for it to be over.
Carter and I had found our stride. I loved being around him, even if we were doing completely separate things in the same space. He had a simultaneously calming and distracting effect on me, depending on his mood and how little or how much we had been fooling around so far that day.
“Yeah?” I responded, glad to have an excuse to look up from my books for a second.
I took a sip of my cooler-than-expected tea and grimaced. How long have I been sitting here, anyway? I wondered to myself.
“What do you think about anal?” he asked, as if it was no bigger question than asking what I wanted for lunch today.
Tea came fountaining out of my mouth in an almost perfect comedic spit take. I quickly swiped at my notes, trying to get the drops of tea spit off before it stained the paper and rendered my writing illegible. He burst out laughing at my reaction, making me question if he was genuinely asking me my thoughts, or if he was just fucking with me.
“Uh, what?” I asked after most of the tea was cleaned up and no longer a threat to my handwritten notes.
“You heard me.” He smirked. “Anal. Is that something you’re interested in? Have you done it before?”
He turned off the TV and came to sit in the chair closest to me. Clearly this was going to be an actual conversation. It was something I had waited for him to bring up, but yeah, I guess it was about time we had a talk about it.
“Um, yes and yes?” I said, blushing.
“Oh yeah?”
“Are you surprised I’ve done it?”
“No. You’re gorgeous and sexy, and any guy in his right mind would want to get as close to you as possible,” he replied.
That was flattering, sure, but this conversation kept throwing me in different directions. I struggled to keep up.
I tried to pull us back to the main topic. “So are you saying it’s something you want to do?”
“Is it bad if I say yes? Will you tell me what it’s like?” His voice took on a softer tone now, almost wistful.
“Um, the first time’s a little scary,” I admitted. “There’s a lot of trust involved. It’s difficult to know how your body is going to react and how painful it will be.”
He looked at me with concern. “Was that how it was for you?”
“For me, I didn’t know the guy well enough, and I hadn’t told him it was my first time, which was stupid. We rushed things more than we should have. My roommate at the time was off practicing, and we didn’t know how long we had. I just wanted to get it over with, which is not the reason to have sex for the first time. It was uncomfortable, and it hurt, and I was scared to do it again for a long time.”
I shrugged. The whole situation was a bad memory I didn’t like to think about, but it was fair that Carter wanted to know. Carter reached for my hand, looking at me intently.
“I’m sorry it was like that for you, sweetheart,” he said, the sympathy for my pain showing in his eyes.
“It was my decision. It wasn’t awful—just wasn’t the way I would do things again if I could. The guy and I stopped seeing each other shortly after, and it’s not something I dwell on. I got what I wanted out of it at the time. The only other guy I’ve been with, we were seeing each other for a few weeks first. We took some more time getting me ready, and it was… good. He and I weren’t a match romantically long-term, but I was grateful to him for treating me right and giving me a sense of how good sex could be.”
C contemplated for a second, taking in what I’d said.
“Was it that guy you mentioned from school? Evan?” he asked. I had a feeling he got the name wrong on purpose in order to appear disinterested.
I smiled at how cute he was when he was jealous. “No, it wasn’t Eli.”
He relaxed a little.
“So… did you ever… top?” He hesitated as if making sure he got the terminology right. “With either of those guys?”
Shaking my head, I said, “No, never.”
I assumed he was taking a moment to process the fact that I had had other partners and some less than ideal situations. His constant concern for me and regard for my happiness and feelings should at some point fail to surprise me, but he still caught me off guard every time.
“Would you want to?” he asked, his question throwing me off again.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. I had never really thought about it before, and certainly hadn’t pictured doing it that way with him. It had never crossed my mind to think he would want me to top him. “Is that something you would want?”
“I think so. I mean, probably not the first time, but I want to know how it feels. And if it’s something new we can do together….”
It was his turn to blush now. Carter was officially the sweetest man ever for wanting to give us a perfect first time together.
“Okay.” My voice cracked with emotion. “We can do that sometime.”
He smiled at me, the intensity of our conversation breaking quickly.
“But for now I want to make it not just good but incredible for you. Fuck the other guys who didn’t know how lucky they were to be with you. I want to try to make it what you always imagined it would be.”
His words broke me a little bit more. How could anyone be this wonderful? This completely perfect for me?
“You being there. That’s how I always imagined it,” I said simply.
Carter
THE first couple of days back with the band were long, and our progress was slow. I had been in love with the first album, and I had yet to feel that passionate about any of our new material. I had been writing a lot on the road and since we’d been back, which wasn’t anything new. I wrote all the time. I was just having difficulty coming up with anything that was actually any good for the band.
What I hadn’t expected was how much Chase and I had begun to write together in our spare time over the past month. I was a little apprehensive about it at the beginning; his music always tended to be more melodic, and mine had been hard rock. Our collaboration started with me asking him occasionally for his input about a note or two here and there and had grown into us full-out composing together in the evenings.
The music Chase and I created was actually really fucking good. Ideas flowed between us easily. He had a knack for taking decent lines I penned and tweaking them until they became something phenomenal. Between his formal training and my experience writing for the mass market, songs flew off the pages faster than I had ever managed on my own. I loved working with him on music. It was a connection we had always shared, and it felt so right to be doing this now.
That being said, I kept a line in the sand between the music I wrote myself and the so
ngs that were cowritten with Chase. I didn’t want to lose the identity of the Thorns or risk pissing off the band by changing up the process and overinvolving my boyfriend. The music Chase and I composed was a bit more lyrical and sophisticated than what I did with the band, but it surprised me how little it felt like a huge departure from the Thorns’s first album. Nevertheless, I ultimately decided I was delusional and the music Chase and I wrote would never fit into Thorns’s catalog.
So that’s how it remained. My uninspired solo-written music went to the Thorns; the better songs that Chase and I had created together stayed firmly on the piano in my condo.
Frustration mounted in the rehearsal hall with each passing day. Nobody was happy with the music we were making, but none of us had an actual solution to the problem either. Beau, our keyboardist, had written one song that we all agreed would be on the record. I had two others that were good enough to be middle-track pieces, but we needed ten or so more, including a couple that would work as singles. Our studio time was coming up in a few days, and unless we developed something amazing soon, we were going to be in a very expensive pile of shit with the label.
By Thursday, we had played through every new piece any of us had written over the past year. A couple of tweaks here and there and we still only had four, maybe five, songs that we all agreed on. We were stressed and agitated, the pressure of our anticipated sophomore album looming. This was the make-or-break album for many bands; we were trying to get past the one-hit-wonder category, and we were terrified of being a promising band turned has-beens in the blink of an eye.
I realized more and more that the timeline they had given us was insane. We barely had the opportunity to rest and recuperate from the tour before we were expected to start all over again with new material we had somehow come up with in our spare time. We needed a break. We needed to reconnect on a personal level and fuel the chemistry between us that made the first album work so well.
Next to Me Page 9
