We Are the Stars

by Teagan Hunter

  Me: Solid 7.5.

  Carsen: I’ll take it.

  The next night:

  Carsen: I had a dream about you last night.

  Me: This sounds pervy.

  Carsen: We went to prom together and then got drunk in a Taco Bell parking lot.

  Me: Was nacho cheese involved in our adventure?

  Carsen: Funny you should mention it…

  We texted back and forth until midnight.

  * * *

  Every night it’s a new, random conversation.

  Carsen: If you could have any dog, what kind would you want?

  Me: A cat.

  Carsen: …That’s not a dog.

  Me: Exactly.

  Carsen: You’re a horrible human.

  Me: At least I’d be a horrible human with a cat.

  Or…

  Carsen: Can you die from eating too much ramen?

  Me: Yes.

  Carsen: I knew it. My life is nearly over. I feel the salt suffocating me… It was nice knowing you, Smelliott.

  Me: Omg. NO! You cannot call me Smelliott!

  Carsen: THAT’S what you’re worried about?! I’M DYING OVER HERE.

  Me: I’m the last person you’d text on your deathbed? That’s sad, Carsen. SAD.

  Carsen: Smelliott. Smelliott. Smelliott. Smelliott. SMELLIOTT!!!!

  Me: I hate you.

  Carsen: Liar.

  Me: I know.

  None of them are serious, but I do notice they’re all fun—which is a side of himself Carsen keeps locked up.

  Except with me.

  I should think this is strange, that we don’t talk at work but talk for hours at night via screens, but I don’t. It’s…Carsen. It’s us.

  “Well, well, well. Look who we have here.”

  Jase’s voice slides over me. He’s drunk, and I watch as he stumbles farther into Down the Lane, his gaze focused on me. He looks like crap, and it’s only six o’clock on a Thursday.

  “You haven’t called me back.”

  He’s not lying; I haven’t. I don’t have anything to say to him. He’s texted me every day, several times a day, for the last few weeks. His messages have ranged from sane to insane. He’ll start out calm, but if I don’t respond right away, they turn mean. That’s not my Jase, and I refuse to feed into whatever it is that’s making him so toxic lately.

  “Jase.

  “Jase,” he mocks. “That’s all you have to say to me? You don’t answer my calls or texts for weeks. What’d I do, E? Try to save you from being murdered?”

  His voice is loud, echoing around the building, causing more than a few heads to turn our way. Jase ambles up to the counter, nearly throwing himself on top of it.

  He drops his head to his hands. “I want to know why you’re mad, E. Tell me.”

  “You were incredibly insensitive and rude, Jase. That’s not you. And now you’re badgering me with insane texts and calls. Again, not you. What the hell is going on?”

  “Everything.”

  “Explain.”

  His voice is muffled as he says, “I failed classes.”

  “What? Are you sure?”

  “Pretty fucking sure, E. F means fail.”

  “What happened?”

  “I was banging my TA.” He stands, wobbles, and holds his hands out in front of his chest. “She had the best tits—better than yours, that’s for sure.”

  I cross my arms over said mediocre chest and stare him down. “Point, Jase?”

  “She found out I wasn’t only banging her. Guess she got ahold of my papers and changed grades. I failed.”

  “Or you simply failed a class because you didn’t turn in good work.”

  “I’m not stupid, Elliott!” he yells.

  I take a defensive step back. “I know that. You’re also not very focused on your schoolwork. You’re more into the social aspect of college than anything else.”

  “You ride ’em.”

  “What?”

  “Cocktails. You ride ’em.”

  Yes, makes so much sense.

  “You mean coattails?”

  “Whatever.” He scoffs. “You ride mine. Always have. You didn’t have any friends so I became yours. You needed lessons in being a normal person. I gave you that, but I was always more popular than you. Your ‘friends’ in high school were because of me, and now you think you’re too good for me. Me.”

  I know that most friends or ‘boyfriends’ I had in high school were because of Jase; I didn’t care. I wasn’t insecure enough to need everyone to like me. I’m still not that way, but to hear him lay it all out there like that… Talk about a hit to the heart. Even though I knew most of the friendships I had were superficial, I never thought the one I had with Jase was.

  Until now.

  “I don’t think that, Jase.”

  “Then why haven’t you called me back!”

  I watch from my peripheral as Carsen slinks out of the back room, eyes me and Jase. I refuse to look in his direction because I don’t want to swing my best friend’s attention his way. I know that won’t end well.

  “What’s your problem, E?”

  “Nothing, Jase. I’m bored with the same old shit and need a break, need something new and exciting.”

  “I bore you?”

  “Nearly everything is boring me lately.”

  “Nearly? What’s not making that list? Is it—”

  He stops talking and his back goes ramrod straight. My eyes are traitorous bastards. The moment he said ‘nearly’, they floated Carsen’s way. Now Jase is shooting daggers at him, but Carsen refuses to back down as he walks to my side.

  “Everything okay here, Elliott?”

  His words wrap around me like silk. It’s the first time he’s said my name in weeks and I swear there’s a hint of warmth, a touch of intimacy in the way he says it.

  I unconsciously place a hand on Carsen’s bicep. Jase zeros in on the action.

  “Oh, well isn’t this fucking cozy.” His hard eyes meet mine. “He works here? You’re dating?”

  “Yes and no.” I ignore Carsen’s flinch at the second answer, and I also ignore how my chest tightens when I give it. “I think you need to leave, Jase.”

  “Yeah, Chase. I think it’s time you leave.”

  The two men stare one another down, sizing each other up. I roll my eyes at their invisible pissing contest. “This is going so well.”

  “Yeah. Awesome,” Jase sneers.

  “Jase, please, leave. I’ll call you later.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Jase, please…”

  “No!”

  That one word is all it takes for Carsen to fly over the counter at him. It may have also been the way Jase slammed his hand down directly in front of me or the veins beginning to pop in his neck, or maybe even the way he lurched forward.

  Bryan comes rushing out of the back room as a few customers scream. He grabs Carsen by the collar as he lands a second blow to Jase’s face, and Jase swings back but misses.

  “Get in my office, now!” Bryan yells at Carsen, holding him as far away from Jase as he can, then turns to my best friend. “Get. Out. You’re banned!”

  “You employ a murderer! I’d never come back here anyway!”

  I stand there, stunned.

  What in the hell just happened?

  “Go check on him,” Bryan calls over his shoulder as he stalks Jase out the door.

  I don’t hesitate to follow his instructions. I’m so pissed off at Jase right now I’d much rather be in the same room as an angry Carsen.

  “That son of a bitch!” Carsen curses, pacing back and forth. “I cannot believe him!”

  Closing the door behind me, I move close enough to place a calming hand on his arm. He instantly freezes. I watch as he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He begins counting, and I assume it’s one of the “things” he does to calm his anger.

  “I’m sorry,” he says.

  “What? Don’t apologize. You have n
o reason to.”

  “I attacked him.”

  “He was a dick, a dick I refuse to associate with any longer.”

  “He’s your best friend, Elliott.”

  “Was. He was. After that stunt, past tense is required.”

  Carsen sighs, and I step closer to him. He reaches out, grasping my hips and pulling me snug against him. My arms wind around his neck and his around my waist.

  We stand there, holding one another.

  “I’m sorry,” he repeats.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He sighs and falls into me more. I squeeze him tighter.

  The door opens and we burst apart.

  Bryan ignores our awkwardness and flings himself into the chair behind his desk. He glares up at Carsen. “What the hell was that?”

  “Bryan, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost control. I—”

  “I always thought he was such a good kid,” Bryan interjects. “He’s always treated you with respect, Elliott. But that? No. Screw that. Screw him. I’m sorry, kid, but he’s not welcome here again. I know he was a little intoxicated—could smell it on his breath—but that’s no excuse. He’s banned, and he’ll be lucky if I don’t tell Nigel about this shit.”

  Carsen stands there with his mouth open, staring at Bryan in confusion. Can’t say what’s happening is making much sense to me either.

  “Bryan, I—”

  “Take the rest of the night off, kid. You know what, both of you get out of here. We’re slow and it’s a Thursday night so it’s not like we’ll be hit with a rush. After all that kerfuffle out there, you both need a break.”

  “Are you sure?” I ask.

  “Positive. Now go.” He waves us out the door and we take off in a daze.

  I hustle to the back room to grab my bag. When I come back out, Carsen’s waiting by the front door for me, talking with Cal.

  “You did good, kid. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

  Carsen nods.

  I walk up to him.

  He holds his hand out; I place mine in his.

  He leads; I follow.

  ***

  “You have your own house?”

  I take a gander around the large kitchen we walk into. It’s massive, and rather fancy looking. An island with granite countertops draws my attention before I slide it over the massive double refrigerator and oven, shiny hardwood floors, small four-person table, and then to the large bay window looking out over Lake Q.

  This place is insane.

  “Yep.”

  “Are you even old enough for that?”

  “I am.”

  “And how old are you again? Forty?”

  He grins. “Some days it seems that. I’m twenty.”

  “Same age, nice.”

  “You want something to drink? There’s water, beer, soda, coffee.”

  “Blech. Coffee is the worst. I’ll take a soda, please, but first, a question: where and/or how did you acquire the beer if you’re only twenty?”

  He grabs our drinks and hands mine to me. He twists open his water and takes a sip before answering. “One of my roomies is of age.”

  “Are they here?”

  Carsen nods. “They’re lurking in the hallway as we speak.” He cranes his neck as he yells, “Hey, assholes, stop creepin’ and get in here.”

  “We’re shocked is all,” an auburn-haired boy in sweats and a t-shirt says as he strolls into the room. “You’ve never brought a girl home before.”

  “Even though you kept turning us down for snuggles, we still held out hope you batted for our team,” another guy adds.

  “Keep on dreamin’, boys.”

  “Oh, we do, Carsen. We do.”

  The boy with auburn hair turns my way. “I’m Nate. You must be Elliott. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  I raise a brow at Carsen, whose ears are turning pink at the ends. “Nice to meet you, Nate.”

  “And I’m Blake,” the other guy says. His eyes are a piercing green, a stark contrast to his dark hair. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Yeah? I’ve heard…nothing about either of you.”

  “Carsen’s a dick that way,” Nate says. “You hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  “We have…” Blake walks over to the swanky silver fridge and peers inside. “Bagel Bites, Hot Pockets, half a bag of French fries, and frozen pizzas.”

  “You had me at pizza.”

  “Done. Carsen, flip the oven to 400. We’re gonna feed your woman.”

  Carsen mutters something, but I can’t make it out.

  “Boyfriend, grab the wine!”

  “We don’t have wine, boyfriend,” Nate tells Blake.

  “They call each other that a lot. They’re newly out and ‘it feels free’ or something like that. To be honest, I don’t think they know each other’s names any longer,” Carsen leans over and whispers conspiratorially.

  “I know, boyfriend.” Blake winks my way. “It sounded fancy though. Grab the beer. Anyone else want one?”

  “I’m good with my soda.”

  “Carsen?” Blake asks.

  He shakes his water bottle. “I’m good. We didn’t interrupt anything, did we?”

  “Blow jobs, rim jobs…the usual.”

  “Why do I even bother asking?”

  Nate laughs. “No, dude, you’re good. We were watching a movie—and no, it wasn’t porn.”

  “I don’t know, that one sex scene was kind of graphic.”

  “Yeah, good point. It might have been soft-core porn then.”

  Carsen shakes his head. “You two are so exhausting.”

  Nate and Blake move around one another in the kitchen with ease. One opens the pizzas as another grabs the pizza pans. They maneuver around each other like a dance, grabbing extra cheese from the fridge and chips for us to snack on, all while landing random pecks on each other’s cheeks.

  It’s something so simple, yet so sweet, and watching Carsen watch them makes it even better. I can see the love he has for his friends in his eyes, can see the way he supports them, how appreciative he is of them.

  I love it.

  “How long have you all been friends?” I ask.

  “Too long,” Carsen mutters.

  Nate flips him off. “You fucking liar. You love us and you know it.”

  “You’d be lost without us, Car. Don’t play.” Blake turns to me. “We all met in middle school. We drifted toward one another and have been friends ever since. We don’t have a good story to go with it. We’re lame.”

  I wave a finger between him and Nate. “And you two have been together how long?”

  “Those assholes made me the third wheel about a year ago.”

  “Oh, please. You were the third wheel well before that.”

  “What the shit? How long were you two screwing around then?”

  Nate and Blake exchange a look. “Since about three months after Ma passed.”

  “What! And you didn’t think to tell me? Your best friend?”

  “To be fair, it was new to us. We had no idea it would turn into what it did.”

  Carsen rolls his eyes. “Oh, please. You two have been mooning over one another for years. Anyone who paid even a lick of attention to you knew it.”

  “Which totally explains the horde of girlfriends I had over the years,” Nate argues.

  “Sleeping with a girl does not make her your girlfriend. We’ve been over this, Nate,” Blake tells him.

  “You had girlfriends too!”

  “Girlfriend. One. And all we ever did was kiss.”

  “Wait, wait, wait,” I say. “You were a virgin until you and Nate were together?”

  Blake blushes. “Guilty.”

  “How? You’re…well, hot as hell. How did you not have women crawling all over you?”

  “He did.” The jealousy in Nate’s voice is clear.

  “What can I say? I’m a little traditional. Wanted to wait for true love.”

  “Awww.”

  �
�Oh, gag me.”

  “That can be arranged,” Blake teases Carsen with another wink.

  “Blake, stop teasing him.” Nate points to his boyfriend. “He played hard to get with the ladies. He’s not as innocent as he acts.”

  “I played hard to get with you too.”

  “True, but you wanted me, so it wasn’t that hard to get you.”

  “You two make a cute couple. Very natural. Good chemistry,” I observe.

  Nate smacks a kiss against Blake’s cheek. “Thank you. He’s a good first boyfriend.”

  “Last boyfriend,” Blake tosses back with seriousness.

  “We’ll see.”

  Blake pinches him and the two take off, running after each other and throwing playful punches—and judging from the loud crash that follows, whatever else they can find.

  “Don’t break anything!” Carsen shouts, grabbing the pizzas off the counter and sliding them into the oven. He inches close to me, edging his hand near mine. Our pinkies graze, and I feel that tingle begin again. “Sorry about them.”

  “They’re amazing.”

  His smile grows. “Yeah, they are. They stuck with me through all the bullshit. Hell, they kept sticking by me even when they were going through their own crap when they came out.”

  “Have you guys lived together long?”

  “Since about six months after Ma died. They’d already practically lived at our place in Boston for years. Our parents ran in the same social circles and none of us had much parental authority hanging over our heads. We kind of did what we wanted, when we wanted. They were over eighteen and having some family issues, so their moving in just happened.”

  “I’m glad you have them.”

  “Me too.”

  “How in the hell do you three afford it though?”

  Carsen chuckles at my not-so-subtle inquiry. “This was Ma’s house. She left it to me in her will.”

  “Paid for? In full?”

  “You do realize the bastard is William Wheatley, right? Big business mogul? Loaded? A complete fucking monster?” Heat laces through his words.

  I place my hand over his and he instantly flips it so he can thread our fingers together. He leans into me, resting his forehead on my shoulder, needing a moment. I give it to him.

  “It’s pretty awesome you have your own house,” I finally say. “I’m guessing Faith picked Wakefield because she loved it here so much?”