All That Is Solid Melts Into Air

by Christopher Koehler

  My phone rang. “Hey, Michael.”

  “Hi, Rem.” Michael sniffled.

  “Are you okay? Have you been crying?”

  “Only a little,” Michael mumbled.

  That made my soul hurt for him. I could stomp and pretend to be an asshole, but the reality was I wanted us to be friends. That’s how I’d tried to leave it when Michael had gotten so justifiably angry with me for not telling him about nixing BU, and it was how I’d tried to leave it after Lake Tahoe. Even if we couldn’t make it work as boyfriends, we were supposed to be friends. I held up my index finger to indicate “one minute” to the guys from Brown’s crew and then walked a little ways away.

  “Where are you?” Michael’s voice burned with curiosity, more lively than I’d heard it in recent days.

  “The Marston Boathouse.” Why did I blush? He couldn’t see me.

  “You’re in Providence.” It sounded like an accusation.

  I laughed. “Kind of, yeah. Where’re you?”

  “New Jersey.” Michael sighed.

  “I’m glad you didn’t tackle New York City.”

  “What?” Michael yelped. “I thought you wanted me to do it in a day. I felt horrible for letting you down.”

  “I was trying to be encouraging. But Michael? We’re not boyfriends anymore, and you didn’t let me down. If you were too tired, you totally made the right call. The thought of driving in New York terrifies me, so there’s that.”

  “Something terrifies Jeremy Babcock? I thought you were fearless.” A bit of the humor had returned to Michael’s voice.

  “Michael….”

  “I’m sorry. It’s been a rough day.” He sounded defeated, and that was so not suave.

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  Michael giggled. “I should’ve known you’d find the boathouse.”

  “That was kind of a given, wasn’t it?” I had to smile.

  Then Michael actually laughed. “More like a natural law.”

  It was almost like old times, except it wasn’t. “Go to sleep, Michael. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

  “You always know exactly what to say to make me feel better,” Michael said softly. As fond of me as he sounded right then, he had let that genie out of the bottle, and he could never put it back.

  I needed to smother this in the cradle now. “That’s because I’m going to be a nurse when I grow up. I’m practicing for that.”

  “Of course you are.” Michael yawned. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess. And, Rem?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you.”

  “Good night, Michael.”

  I’D STAYED out later than I’d planned to last night, but even though I used my fake ID and appearance to get into the good bars that catered to the over twenty-one crowd, I played the “I don’t drink because they clash with all the drugs I take” card. Let them think I had a more interesting social life than I did.

  I went to the boathouse planning to erg, but a twink with dirty-blond hair accosted me. “Are you Jeremy Babcock?”

  “Uh… yes.”

  He was kind of cute. Okay, scratch that, he was hot in a twinky way that I hadn’t known until that moment I liked, but daaaamn.

  He stuck his hand out. “I’m Zach Jackson. Mike asked me to come find you and show you around.”

  All bemused, I shook Zach’s hand. “Oh he did, did he? He hasn’t even gotten here yet.”

  “He’ll get in sometime tonight. He didn’t want you wandering around for another day.” Zach smiled like he was super confident, but I bet if I pushed, I could scrape through it easily. That seemed pointless, however.

  “Well, I’d planned to erg….”

  Zach held up a Kindle. “Allowances have been made. Knock yourself out.”

  “You don’t mind? I won’t be more than about forty minutes, plus stretching and showering after.” This would give me time to figure out what was going on, too.

  “I can see the look on your face. Mike texted me a couple of pictures of you last night. That’s how I knew how to find you.” Zach smiled. “You’re kind of an open book.”

  “Or you can read minds.” And Mike? That was interesting. “Okay, I’ll go change and get busy.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  And sure enough, a bit less than an hour later, after I’d worked out, stretched, and cleaned up, there was Zach.

  Zach and I chatted over breakfast. Zach hailed from Providence, and he’d met “Mike” that summer. I’d had no idea Michael had been out here that long, or had even had the time to find someone, because by the time we were through with breakfast, I’d figured out that if Zach and Michael weren’t already in a relationship, they soon would be. But certain other things weren’t adding up.

  “Uh-oh, I can see that look in your eyes,” Zach said as we found a place in a coffee shop.

  “I have a look in my eyes?” Of course I had a look in my eyes, but the hell if I’d admit that to some prefreshman I’d only met that morning.

  Zach nodded. “Mike warned me about it. It means you’re getting all broody overthinking things.”

  “Exactly what did ‘Mike’ tell you, anyway?” I almost felt bad about pumping this kid for information, but if Michael wanted to send this Zach off to the Big Bad Wolf—apparently that was me—he had to assume the lamb would be gnawed on, if not slaughtered outright.

  Zach’s eyes grew round. “You’re mad, aren’t you?”

  I stared at him. Then it clicked. This was all an act, and Zach was playing me. “And you are so full of shit.”

  Zach pouted.

  I rolled my eyes. So much for cutting back on gestures of contempt. “Stop it. Your cover’s blown.”

  “What gave it away?” Zach’s voice dropped half an octave.

  I shook my head. Were the games starting already? “Any number of little clues, but mostly the fact that Michael can’t stand vapid innocents any more than I can.”

  “Damn. I’ll have to work on that.”

  “Save it for dumber people, too.”

  Zach shook his head. “He warned me you’re spooky smart, but he also said you were oblivious to everything but crew.”

  “It cuts in and out. So what’s with the games?” I hated games.

  Zach squirmed. “Do I have to answer that?”

  “No, but I’m assuming Michael had a reason for introducing us. Maybe we should try to get along?”

  “I know, but can we ease our way into this? You have to admit, this is pretty weird.” Zach picked up his coffee and started drinking.

  I knew I faced a choice. I could keep picking, or I could acknowledge that yes, whatever Michael was playing at, this was truly bizarrissimo, and Zach and I needed to make it work.

  “It really is.” I let out a jittery breath. “I’m a little nervous, to be perfectly honest, and I can be a little overbearing when I get that way.”

  “No, really?”

  Smell that, kids? That’s sarcasm.

  “It’s true!” I squealed.

  “You’re kind of intimidating, you know that?”

  “Me? I’m harmless.” I wanted to see if he’d fall for it any more than Randy had.

  The fact that he snorted coffee out of his nose put paid to that. I handed him some napkins. “Seriously?”

  Once I stopped being deliberately difficult and Zach stopped playing games, we actually got along pretty well. I saw why Michael liked him.

  So I spent the day getting to know the guy who was probably my replacement. Not that I had any grounds for complaint. After all, I knew Randy waited for me back in Davis, ready for whatever I was ready for.

  It was still odd.

  “Can I tell you something?” Zach fidgeted with a napkin, ripping it into smaller and smaller pieces. I had to wonder if he was always this nervous, or if this was something I brought out.

  “Sure, go for it.”

  “I see why Michael still talks about you.” Zach looked everywhere but at me.

&nbs
p; That… no. “Oh, I am sorry. That’s so wrong.”

  Zach looked puzzled.

  “We’re over, and he’s with you, or so I’m assuming. I’m old news. Hell, he dumped me.”

  “Does he know that?” Zach sounded dejected, and I was surprised how that cut me.

  This? This was crap. “We’re putting a stop to this, you and I.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. You like him, and I’m presuming you’re looking for more than sex because there’re apps for that.”

  “Kind of, yeah.” Zach looked so shy. I felt like such a perv, but all I could think was that there was a certain something there that would pull Michael in. Jeez, it pulled at me, and I could tell for a fact Zach was a catcher, too. What would we do together, play pat-a-cake?

  The entire idea that Michael appeared hung up on me pissed me off, especially when he had this toothsome morsel in front of him. “When he gets here, the three of us will go out, and if he appears to be paying too much attention to me, I’ll redirect him in a way that makes it all too clear what we both think of it.”

  “I’m not sure I can do that.”

  I grunted irritably. “Start being sure, because I’m more than capable.” I leaned over and looked Zach dead in the eyes. “He broke my heart. It sounds like a cliché, but there it is. I’ve repaired it and moved on, trust me, but he doesn’t get a do-over, and he doesn’t get to carry on like there’s the slightest chance in hell we’ll get back together.”

  “Then why’re you here?” Zach looked so confused.

  “To salvage our friendship.” Maybe it was only my febrile imagination, but Zach seemed relieved. “You thought I came here to get him back, didn’t you?”

  “You flew out here for that? Must be nice.” Zach ignored me, instead rubbing his fingers together like he was separating benjamins.

  I shrugged. Talking to a near-stranger about money? As if. “I was already in Chicago, so continuing on to Providence wasn’t that big a deal.”

  And that’s all you’re getting, Zach. You want the rest? Buy the rights. Besides, he was at Brown, which wasn’t exactly on the list of budget schools.

  “Why are you being so helpful?” Zach said.

  I ignored that. “Do you like him?”

  “Oh yeah.” Zach looked at me like I was crazy. “I mean, have you met him? Have you seen him?”

  I snorted. “Dude. I watched him go through puberty. I don’t know how long he was out here this summer, or if he managed to escape from his parents, but have you gotten him naked yet?”

  “I’m working on it.” Zach’s eyes flashed with hunger.

  I nodded my approval. “I’m biting my tongue here, and not to tell you how to conduct your relationship, but ohmuhgaaaw. Get on that. As it were.”

  “I’m starting to see why he was anxious about leaving us alone.”

  “Was he? That’s funny.” I pulled a piece of paper out of my messenger bag and scribbled down every possible way to contact me. “Use ’em if you want to.”

  Then I had an idea. I pulled out my phone and sat next to him. “Selfie!”

  “Are you going to send it to him?” Zach giggled.

  “Of course.”

  AS IT turned out, the men’s head coach had made some calls, so when I showed up at the boathouse the following morning, I was greeted with open arms. A single? Sure! I realized overnight that I needed to scull, if only to escape my emotions. Michael and I were kaput, but spending the previous day with Zach had made my head spin. No one had come right out and said it, but I knew what was going on. I was being asked to give my blessing to Michael’s next relationship. Maybe Michael and Zach weren’t even sure of it themselves, but like I’d told Zach, my obliviousness cut in and out.

  Just like old times, really. Remy can’t handle an emotion? Wind him up, watch him go! But it felt so good to scull again, and I felt restored as I glided back to the dock two hours later. The cast around the boathouse had changed while I’d sculled, so I had to introduce myself to everyone all over again, mostly to answer the question, “Who are you and why do you get to row that single when almost no one else even gets to look at it?”

  Since I’d already learned “Because I really am that much better than you” didn’t actually go over that well, I came up with something better, something that brought up the fact that I was good enough to compete for a spot on the U23 team, but not good enough to win one. Self-deprecation always worked like a charm. I stood around chatting with people. I liked crew and I liked rowers, so why not? I’d probably see these people in a few months in Boston and maybe next spring at the Crew Classic, if not other West Coast races. Rowing was a small world, and being polite cost nothing.

  When I emerged from the Marston Boathouse calm and clean, I found Zach and Michael waiting for me.

  “Took you long enough.” Zach tapped his watch.

  “I’m sorry, if I’d known you were waiting, I wouldn’t have spent that much time shooting the breeze.” Then I thought for a moment. “You could’ve come in, you know. In fact… the men’s novice coach is inside. He also works with walk-ons and new recruits. Let’s go.”

  Over their protestations, I dragged them both behind me. No time like the present, after all. When we emerged from the boathouse twenty minutes later, they could only shake their heads.

  “What just happened?” Zach looked baffled.

  Michael laughed. “Jeremy Babcock, that’s what.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I hid my smile.

  “Only you, Remy, could walk into any boathouse in the country, introduce us, and walk out with me having a spot on the novice team and a promise for Zach to try out coxing.” Michael grabbed me in a one-armed hug and kissed the side of my head.

  I met Zach’s eyes. No, that wasn’t awkward at all.

  “He’s over there.” I shoved Michael away from me and pointed him toward Zach.

  Michael blushed like I usually did. “Subtle, Rem.”

  I stopped walking. “No, it wasn’t and it wasn’t meant to be. You wanted me to get to know Zach? Fine, he and I have struck up the beginnings of a friendship. This is a good thing. I’m here to make sure you and I stay friends, but this? This stops here and now.”

  “Okay, I get it.” Michael glared at me.

  “Do you?” Set eyebrow on stun. “You’ve got Zach ready to give you everything, but you need to put down that torch, because, Michael? It’s never going to burn again.”

  No one said anything for a moment, and then Zach looked up at me. “Thank you, Remy.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ve got your back, at least until Michael here wakes up to what’s staring him right in the face.” I smiled at him, then looked at Michael and shook my head. “You fool. He’s crazy about you.”

  Michael looked like he wanted to rip into me. “You… I know, Remy. This isn’t how I thought things would go, you know?”

  “Believe me, I know.” I took a deep breath. “Why don’t you guys go talk about things? I’d like to meet for lunch. Maybe you could text me, Zach?”

  “Okay, now that was subtle, Rem,” Michael said.

  I snorted. “No. You seem to miss subtle. I’m going to keep smacking you upside the head until it sinks in.”

  “I’ll text you, Rem,” Zach said, apparently picking up on the familiar nickname. Gag. That was supposed to be for my intimates only. Oh well, I’d clearly lost that battle.

  I knew a dismissal when I heard one, and since I’d gone to a certain amount of trouble to engineer this one, I took it, tipping a wink to Zach. I spent the rest of the morning exploring and playing unabashed tourist in colonial Providence. Eventually the three of us ate a late lunch. I didn’t ask and they didn’t tell, and that, after all, had been the point of my efforts.

  The other thing I did that afternoon was change my flight. Again. The only people I told were my parents. All Zach and Michael knew was that I planned to return to Boston the next day. I’d never told them when I�
�d planned to leave.

  “I’m glad we didn’t leave it strained, but I have to get ready for school to start, and I’ve missed too many practices as it is.”

  Never mind the fact that I’d been rowing and erging at Brown. It was a plausible excuse, and I needed one right then. Zach and Michael needed me not to be underfoot, and a gentleman always knows when to leave a party. After all, the message I’d been trying to get Michael to understand was that I wasn’t supposed to be a part of that relationship. The best way I could think of to ensure that was to be three thousand miles away. But mostly, I had myself to think of. Michael and I were past tense. He would always be special to me, but we were moving on, and I didn’t need a ringside seat to his new main event. Why subject myself to that kind of pain? We’d all done our best, after all. Maybe it was time to trust that.

  A FEW weeks into the semester and I’d settled in nicely. I’d scored a single dorm room, which suited me well. Randy and I took things slowly. We were busy, both of us with crew, he with work, and me with the possibility of extra training on top of regular practices.

  Lodestone, my grandparents, and I debated whether or not I should train for the U23 trials again. Grandma and Grandpa were all for it, as was Marissa Lodestone. Peter Lodestone and I, along with Coach Pendergast, were still analyzing the previous training program and the video of my performance at the selection camp to see how they could be improved upon before we made any decisions. Of course, the fact that we were analyzing everything spoke volumes about making said decisions, but it provided a fig leaf I needed.

  One evening when I should’ve been asleep but was instead reading on my iPad, the Skype icon started dancing frantically.

  “Lovely.” I tapped it and up popped Zach.

  “Can we talk?” Zach looked miserable.

  I kissed sleep good-bye. “Sure. What’s up?”

  Zach explained the situation. Basically he and Michael—or Mike, as he preferred to be called now—had been going at it hot and heavy, and then Mike had brought out the rope.

  “Rope, Remy!”