by Daryl Banner
“No, it’s cool!” I quickly assure him. “I mean, it’s true, right? I guess college just wasn’t for me.”
“Yeah? Hey, you had better things to do.”
“Right!”
“I mean, look at you! Living it up in this city! It has to take a lot of hard work to support yourself here, doesn’t it?” he points out.
“Yeah! Well …” I shrug and let out a strained chuckle. “I guess I kinda lucked out. I’m a barista at a …” For a moment, the words “gay bookstore” sit strong on my tongue. The next moment, they’re swallowed right up and replaced with: “… an indie bookstore. Most months, it gives me enough to get by, though sometimes, I’ve had to give my rent late to Dante, my landlord. But he’s cool!” I quickly add. “Never threatens to evict me! Well, until my last roommate royally screwed me over. But I don’t have to worry about that anymore, not with my new roommate Connor who’s a fucking dream.”
Skylar takes a moment to juggle all of that into his head. “That sounds great!”
I perk up. “It is!”
He smiles. “Barista … Hmm, don’t know why I expected you to be …” He searches for the words as his bold, piercing eyes fixate on me, squinting with thought. “… a party-planner for rich assholes. Or an event host for celebrities. Or a motivational speaker, or a big personal trainer, or … something. Charisma was always your strong point.”
“Was it?”
“Yeah! Don’t pretend like you aren’t still the life of the party,” he then teases me.
“Yep, still am!” I chuckle, then rub at a spot on my head, for a moment forgetting I’ve got on a cap. “I’ve grown a lot since college, too. I’m not a total …” Why was I just about to say “loser”? I clear my throat. “College just wasn’t a fit for me. Sure, it wasn’t the social aspect that was a problem. It was the … actually-going-to-class part.”
Sky laughs and shakes his head. “I can’t count how many papers I had to write for you …”
“Hey, now! It wasn’t papers. It was math! You know I’m terrible with numbers.”
“Numbers—and words.” Skylar inclines his head toward me. “You know damned well I wrote half your papers and did your calculus homework.”
I give it a moment’s thought, then realize he’s right. “Okay, okay. Numbers and words.”
“Numbers and words.” He grins.
I can’t help but smile back, giving in.
The server comes, sets down a couple glasses of water, then takes our orders. I watch Skylar the whole time, locked on his eyes while he confidently points at his menu. He’s got the longest eyelashes that make his eyes flash with such life as he talks, even when it’s something as simple as giving his order in a restaurant. I barely pay our sweet, well-meaning server any mind as I say, “I’m having whatever he’s having,” and hand over the menu I didn’t read a word of. The server is off.
And Skylar stares at me suspiciously. “Are you sure you can handle what I got? It’s pretty sp—”
“Of course I can. So what was the news?” I ask as I cross my arms on the table.
Sky looks caught off-guard. “What? … News?”
“You said you had big news! You said it would blow my mind. What is it?”
“Oh! It’s the reason I’m here! My sister Lena, you remember her, of course. She’s getting married!”
I’m lost staring into his eyes so deeply that it takes a second for the words to register. “Lena?” I blink. “Wait … Isn’t she still in high school?”
“Dude, you do realize time passes, right?” He laughs. “She’s almost twenty-one now.”
“And already getting married?”
“Well, she’s crazy about the guy, and I wasn’t gonna risk getting my head bitten off telling her to put on the brakes. She’s a fireball.”
“Yep,” I say, remembering. “She’s a fireball.”
“You don’t tell her what to do—or else.”
“Or else!” I agree with a chuckle.
Another smile spills softly over Skylar’s face. I feel so many intense things all at once, just from that smile he’s giving me right now.
“So why is she getting married here?” I ask.
“Her fiancé works out here. They have a place on the other side of the bridge. Shit, we really have lost touch,” he says suddenly with a frown. “You and I. Why’d we go so long without calling each other? Did I piss you off or something?”
“No, no!” I say with an anxious laugh. “I guess I just … I don’t know. It was a tough time for me after I dropped out. I lived at home for a month or two, feeling sorry for myself. Then I got a great opportunity through the company my dad works for, which moved me here. And even though that didn’t work out,” I then go on with a shrug, “I just kinda fell in love with this city and … stayed.”
“I get it. I’ve just been here a day and already I feel its charm.” He goes for a sip of water.
I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he drinks.
The truth I’m not sure I can say is that the idea of maintaining a long-distance friendship with him after college was too much to bear. I felt bad about abandoning all my brothers at the fraternity. Skylar especially. I would have done anything to stay at that school, to be around him, to feel like I was still a part of the brotherhood.
“You look like you’ve got a lot of things on your mind,” he observes.
I jerk out of my thoughts. “What?”
Sky squints at me. “I feel like …” He bites his bottom lip, like he tastes something sweet. “I feel like if we start talking about the good old days, we’d never stop … you and I.”
I try not to smile ear to ear. I don’t succeed. “I feel the same way.”
It isn’t long before our food comes, and my eyes are met with the spiciest lobster bisque I’ve ever had. With every spoonful, I put on a big brave face and desperately try to keep up our small talk across the table, even as a sheen of sweat forms over my forehead and my cheeks flush from the heat.
Skylar notices, but says nothing as he hungrily scarfs his down. I’m sure he also notices me going for my glass of water between every bite. My poor cloth napkin gets ten times its normal use as I press it to my nose every five seconds. I’m nearly crying by the time I get to the last bite.
And just when I think the torture is done, we are brought out two large pasta dishes that literally look aflame with spicy tomato sauce. Even the cute green garnish—which I do eat in desperation—does next to nothing to temper the heat. I feel like a hole has been burned straight through my belly. The only saving grace is how damned scrumptious it tastes, despite my tongue being seared halfway off.
“That’s so you,” Skylar says after they take our dishes away, fighting off a smile.
I’m still wiping away tears. “Uh, what’s me?”
“Playing off how much pain you’re in.”
I stare at his full set of lips, the cute flip of hair he’s got going on, his natural blush creeping over his cheeks that make them look set on fire, like he’s always blushing prematurely at an adorably dorky joke he hasn’t made yet.
He has no idea how in pain I am right now.
I should probably tell him. This is the best time to do it, isn’t it? Why not tell him the truth and let him get to know the real me?
“Skylar,” I start. “I need to tell you something.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
I swallow hard and stare deeply into his eyes as if they’re two hands I’m clinging to, hanging off the edge of a cliff. I feel like maybe I should have taken Connor’s advice and not worn the hat. What am I? Still a rebellious teenager? I also think my stomach is full of lava that’s trying to burn its way out.
Maybe it isn’t the food. It’s my secret, burning like a deep, dark fire within me.
It’s time to set it free. Three, two, one …
“Our dinner’s paid for,” I blurt out instead.
Coward.
He blinks, surprised. “Oh, that’
s fucking nice of you, man! We could have split the bill, you know.”
Oops. He thinks I paid for it. “Sorry, I meant—”
“So you wanna get out of here, then?” he asks.
I bite my lip. I guess the misunderstanding isn’t that big of a deal. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t itching to show my guy the big city. “I sure do!”
3
The streets are crowded, loud, and full of color and flashing lights. We try to keep up a decent conversation, but find ourselves shouting so much that we both apparently give up and just continue walking alongside each other, enjoying the sights.
It isn’t so bad actually. Skylar and I have such a history that we’re able to communicate without words. Just a funny glance at me while pointing at a totally innocent sign—which we then read with some hidden lewd second meaning—and both of us are cracking smiles and trying not to laugh.
There are so many inside jokes between us, I’d hate to be a third wheel on any of our outings; no one ever really “got” us, even back then.
It isn’t until we’ve turned off the main drag and walk down a side street that we’re able to hear each other. “So do you have anyone in your life?” I ask.
Skylar finds that funny for some reason. “Nah. Not much of a dating scene where I live.” He gives me a look. “I doubt the same can be said for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“In this huge city, you’ve got to be drowning in dates. I bet you get some ass every weekend!”
I consider all the parties I’ve had since moving here. And the guys I’ve been with, or had almost been with, or accidentally have been with. None of them filled the void Skylar left when I dropped out.
Is that really what I’ve been doing? Just trying to find someone who makes me feel the way this special guy makes me feel?
“Come to think of it, you weren’t really big on dating back then,” Sky points out, scratching idly at a spot on his arm. “Unless you hid all your action from the frat house. It’s like, ‘Don’t shit where you eat,’ right? Hey, tell me something, Brett. Do you have a special someone in your life?”
I’ve gone from putting my hands in my pockets to letting them hang by my sides a hundred times since we left Dino’s. I don’t know what to do with them. My palms are sweaty. “Nope. It’s just me.”
“Just you.” He comes to a stop.
I also come to a stop for some reason, holding my breath and staring back at him.
Skylar gazes over my face, lost in some thought of his. Is this when I should tell him? The two of us are skirting around the subject so conspicuously, I feel like the question is just as much on the tip of his tongue as it is on mine. Maybe he’s wondered about it all these years. Maybe he’s too nervous to ask me—despite being the kind of guy who is made nervous by literally nothing on Earth.
“Was that the real reason you left college?” he asks suddenly.
My mouth was opened with something else I’d planned to say. I shift gears. “Uh, what?”
“Sorry. I’m going back to what we talked about before. I can’t get my mind around something you said. I mean, I get it, sure, you weren’t the most studious. But our university isn’t an Ivy League school or anything. It’s filled with party boys, lazy stoners, and morons who probably couldn’t even spell their own name. Why did you really leave?”
I stand there for a second with my mouth open and nothing coming out, until: “Is that all I am to you, Sky? A … A lazy ‘party boy’ …?”
“No, no, no, I didn’t mean it that way, I—”
“You also had to point out that you wrote a few papers for me, too. As if I’m a … how’d you put it? … ‘a moron who can’t spell his own name’ …”
“Brett, dude …”
“Do you think I’m just a loser dropout, Sky?”
“Bro! That isn’t what I said!”
I press my lips shut before I say anything more and stare at him hard.
“Brett, I think you’re awesome,” he tells me.
I narrow my eyes at him.
“I do!” he protests. “I think the world of you. I’m not here to see anyone else, am I? Remember TJ? He opened a restaurant out here. I’m not going and seeing what he’s up to. Oh, and Randall, that smart-as-fuck freshman with the giant glasses, he’s here, too. He’s in med school now becoming a doctor. But I’m not hanging with him, either.”
I frown and cross my arms, feeling sulky.
Sky smirks. He knows me too well. “All I was trying to get across with what I said was … well … I had a different picture in mind for you. A bigger picture. I mean, you did say you also quit the job your father got you through his company in this city, right? And—”
“I didn’t say I quit. I said it didn’t work out.”
“So you were fired?”
“I …” My cheeks are burning red.
It’s clear that on one level, I want to prove Sky wrong—whatever it is he’s trying to prove—and just work out all of our frustrations over a game of flag football or ultimate Frisbee, like we used to.
On the other hand, I want so desperately to be whatever version of myself would impress Skylar the most. I’m determined for him to give me his approval. Or to like who I am now. Or to confess that he has actually been—at least in some small way—as pained and miserable as I’ve been.
He sighs. “Look, Brett. I have had my ups and downs over the years, too. I’ve debated whether or not writing software for AppuCore the rest of my life is the best for me. Seemed like a dream job in college. Now it … seems like a sentence. I’m not perfect by any means, and I’m not saying you should be. I just …” His voice goes soft. “I had high hopes for you, that’s all. High hopes. Is it … Is it a crime to want your best buddy from college to be successful and have a huge, amazing life?”
“Best buddy?”
“Yeah!” He snorts at my reaction. “Is that so surprising to you? Come on. You and I used to be so …” He doesn’t seem sure of his next words. “I wish we hadn’t lost touch the way we did.” Then he lifts his eyes to mine, squinting. “Why did we lose touch? I must’ve called you a hundred times.”
My eyes drop to his chest.
I had so many dreams back in college. I had all of those high hopes myself. I think I was the best version of myself when I was with Skylar.
When did I go wrong?
Why did I let our friendship fade away?
I need to tell him how I feel, what he means to me, and why I couldn’t tell him the truth back then. Then we can both be put out of our miseries. “To be honest, Sky—”
“Shit, one sec.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and answers it. “Hey, sis. How’s—?” He lets out a chuckle and shakes his head. “Breathe, girl! You’ll be fine. What? … Really? … You need your brother to hold your hand for you?” He gives me an eye-rolling look, which I return with a tightened, understanding smile. “You do know I’m out with my old pal Brett, right?” Sky throws me a look of apology before returning to his phone. “You got it, sis. Love you.” He hangs up, shoves his phone away, then frowns at me. “Sorry, it sounds like I’ve got to go meet my sister. The DJ fell through, and we’ve got to work some deal out with the caterer now, since there’s a shortage on duck, I think … or something. I couldn’t make out whatever it was Lena went on about. She is in hysterics. Not to mention something else to do with the, uh … the …” He laughs it off, sounding stressed, and slaps a hand to his forehead, unable to even finish his thoughts.
My heart is sinking. Our night’s about to be cut short and it feels like it’s barely begun. We have so much more to talk about. “Sky …”
“I really gotta deal with this,” he says.
I shrug. “I know a DJ or two. I probably know eight, actually. I can hook you guys up.”
“Oh, seriously? That’s bomb!” He throws his arms around me, gives me one agonizingly brief squeeze, then slaps me on the shoulder. “I had no idea what the hell I was gonna do about th
at. Now I’ve gotta solve ten other things before my sister turns from a Haas to a Lopez next weekend.”
“What would your sis do without you?” I give him a smile. “Seems like you’ve been holding her together since she was in high school getting her heart broken by a new boy every week.”
Skylar chuckles once, then bites his lip and stares at me, lost for something to say. I think he’s trying to figure out how to tell me he’s gotta go.
I very much don’t want to hear those words.
And so: “Hey, why don’t I come with?” I suggest in a tone that sounds awkwardly desperate. “I can say hi to Lena, hook you up with a choice of DJs, not just one, and maybe after we sort her out, you and I can resume our night! I’ll take you to the best bars, I can show you my pad, I could even—”
“I’d love all of that, but …” Skylar sighs. “She’s a handful lately, and she isn’t gonna be up for any visitors, if you get what I’m saying. Her big day’s approaching fast, she’s neurotic, and I gotta make sure she doesn’t lose it. You know how it is.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I agree too quickly, nodding and smiling to mask all my blistering disappointment. “Totally. You’re the glue that …”
That has held me together for years.
That makes me feel like there’s one sexy flicker of hope in this world that someone’s out there for me.
That keeps my heart from falling the fuck apart.
Skylar is studying my face with his eyebrows lifted in cute anticipation. Oh. I haven’t finished my sentence. “The glue that … that holds your family together,” I finish clumsily. “Look, I’ll take you to the station, and then—”
“Dude, I’d get lost if we take the subway, and besides, I don’t have one of those fancy metro cards. I’ll just call myself a Lyft.”
“You sure? Hey, I can call you a—”
“Already got the app open.” Skylar gives his phone a wiggle. “Lucky me! There’s one available just seven blocks from here. Already on the way. Heh, who knows, maybe someday it’ll be my own awesome apps I’m using that I’ve developed.”
“Yeah, awesome!” I stare at his phone, piercing it with my anguished eyes. I can’t give up this easily, right? “Maybe when you finish up with your sister, we can meet up afterwards and—?”
