by J. P. Oliver
Not again. Especially not after the whole incident with my parents. What a shitshow that had been.
But Mason had me thinking. Maybe there was a third, invisible option that we hadn’t discovered yet. Drew and I were always close. We basically grew up together. And when shit hit the fan with my mother and father, Drew was the one who was there for me. We cared for each other. We understood each other. Surely there was a way I could find out if this wasn’t just a one-sided pining situation. What if Drew was in the same boat as me? What if he had feelings for me and never acted on them? We’d be stuck in a never-ending loop of unknowing.
Later that day, I walked into the coffee shop, greeted by the gentle jingle of a brass bell screwed into the top of the doorframe. The scent of freshly baked pastries and coffee filled the air, made my stomach rumble. I saw Mason sitting at a table in the far back corner, head held down as he scrolled through what I assumed to be the news feed on his smartphone. He had an empty espresso cup sitting in front of him, a vacant chair on the other side of the table with a coffee mug all ready and waiting –reserved for me. I hesitated for a moment, drinking in the sight in amazement.
If someone had told me a year ago that I would be grabbing a coffee with Mason Crybaby Neal, I would have laughed. I watched intently, studying the concentration in his gray-blue eyes. They were really something to behold, an attention-grabbing feature on a man who had –for the most part– always wanted to blend in and disappear. He scratched behind his ear, a nervous tic. He used to do it a lot when we were kids, whenever my friends and I wanted to have a little fun.
A pang of guilt stabbed itself into my chest. It was fun for me, but it must have been torture for him. Mason had been really nice to me earlier this morning. He hadn’t been as judgmental as I’d feared he’d be. He was calm and understanding, and actually gave me some pretty decent advice –even if it hurt to hear it. I swallowed hard, frowning at myself and feeling the slightest bit like a jackass. Maybe I should have been easier on him when we were growing up. He was actually a pretty chill dude.
“You’re late,” he huffed when I approached.
Never mind. I take that back.
I sat down across from him and leaned into the backrest of the chair. It was made of an uncomfortable metal, digging into my back in places. How was this café doing so well when their chairs literally made me want to get right back up and leave?
“So,” I said slowly.
“So,” he clicked his tongue.
I took an awkward little sip from the mug sitting before me, allowing the hot liquid to coat my tongue. I raised my eyebrows in surprise. This shit was wonderfully good, especially considering I was nursing a terrible headache.
“I’ve been looking at a few venues for the reception,” started Mason, trying to get right to work. “I’ve found four so far, all of them ranging in price. I think we’ll have to clarify with Drew what his budget expectations are.”
“Speaking of Drew,” I blurted out. “I need your help.”
Mason frowned, a suspicious look in his eye. “I beg your pardon?”
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “Look,” I mumbled. I took in a sharp breath before proceeding, praying that my heart would stop slamming in my chest. “You’re the only one who knows the truth and I don’t really know who to turn to. I thought a lot about what you said after you left. About how I should tell Drew how I feel or just let him go.”
Mason didn’t say anything, opting to remain silent to allow me to ramble. He simply watched with his cool eyes, studying me with an intense focus that had me feeling on edge. We’d never spoken like this before, never been in one room for this long before things fell apart. I used to go out of my way to avoid him, knowing full-well that we’d be at each other’s throats within a matter of minutes. Drew had always tried to convince us to get along, always played the peacekeeper, but nothing ever used to keep us from getting on each other’s nerves. As a result, I never realized how handsome Mason was when he wasn’t sneering at me, looking down his nose at the way I acted or at the things I said. He was turning out to be a great listener, attentive in a way I never thought possible.
The butterflies in my stomach decided to give me a hard time, thriving in my state of uncomfortableness. I swallowed hard before continuing, wondering if I should bother telling Mason my plan at all. But there was something calming about his presence, something reassuring that gave me the impression I could open up –just this once– and not be humiliated.
“Go on,” he finally urged, voice soft and comforting.
I sighed, gathering up the courage before finding the words that I needed. “The reason I never told Drew anything was because I’m scared he doesn’t feel the same way. It would ruin our friendship, and I don’t think I could handle that.” My tongue darted across my bottom lip quickly, a bad habit I had when I was feeling anxious. “You’re right, I should say something. But I’ll only do it if I think there’s a chance Drew feels the same way.”
“What are you saying, exactly?”
“I… I need your help,” I admitted as I cast my eyes down to the coffee mug between my hands.
“My help?” he echoed, confusion clear in his tone.
“We can take Drew out to a bar, grab him a few celebratory drinks. And while I’m there, I could maybe flirt with a few guys. I’d need your help to gauge his reaction. If he looks jealous, I’ll know that there’s something there. If not, I’ll let him go. I just can’t take the risk of asking him outright.” My shoulders slumped, suddenly feeling very heavy. “I don’t… I don’t think I could take it if he said he doesn’t feel the same way.”
I couldn’t bring myself to look up at him. I braced myself for Mason’s response. He’d probably laugh at me, probably tell me that I was being an idiot. My guts were in a terrible, tight mass of knots, and my throat felt like it was on fire. I was fully prepared for Mason to reject my plan. But the laughter never came.
“Okay,” he answered instead.
7
Mason
What was I thinking?
What was he thinking?
No matter how much I thought about it, this plan was so unbelievably stupid. There was no way this was going to work. Drew was with Christian now. Yes, it was a bit of a whirlwind romance. Yes, I personally thought they were rushing into things. But honestly? Liam wants to try and make Drew jealous instead of telling him outright? It all felt so juvenile, so immature and weakly planned. But the look in Liam’s eye had me feeling weirdly empathetic. He was an unprotected nerve, willingly putting himself out there at the risk of being torn to shreds. I knew that only a desperate man would go to such lengths.
The first issue I took with Liam’s plan was that I didn’t like lying to Drew. He was my best friend –had been since the first grade– and he deserved to know the facts. No games, no plots. We were all adults here. Why couldn’t Liam just fess up? But I knew, deep down, that that wasn’t the biggest issue that I took with Liam’s plan. I really didn’t want to get roped up into all this. I could see this attempt for what it was: an act of desperation plotted out by an equally desperate man.
But instead of telling Liam that I couldn’t possibly go through with his plan, the words just fell out of my mouth. There was no thought process, no filter. Liam looked like somebody just kicked a puppy, and I knew I couldn’t just say no. I wasn’t some heartless asshole who would deliberately swim past someone who was obviously struggling to keep their head above the water. Even if that man was a top-tier jackass, I needed to help. Because if it were me in his position, I’d probably do something dumb and rash, too.
“Okay,” I almost whispered.
Liam looked just as surprised as I felt. I mentally kicked myself.
What the fuck was that?
“R-really?”
“Sure,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “Why not?” I wanted to ask if somebody had a shovel so I could dig myself into this hole a little faster.
“Wait, seriousl
y?”
I tilted my head to the side and squinted at Liam, pressing my lips together into a firm line. “Yeah,” I replied. “Unless you weren’t being serious.”
“No, no. I’m serious. I’m just… I didn’t think you’d agree.”
Join the club.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and squeezed my eyes shut. What a mess. But it was too late to back out now. I wasn’t ever the type to agree to something only to chicken out at the last moment. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked. “What if he doesn’t get jealous? Can you promise to leave him alone? Christian seems like a good guy. It’d be really shitty for all of us if you didn’t drop it.”
“All of us?” he echoed.
My cheeks suddenly felt warm, but I shook my head and corrected myself quickly. “Like, as a collective group. I’m sure Drew would end up talking my ear off about the whole thing.”
“Oh,” he said, seemingly satisfied with my answer. “Yeah, I promise to let it go if this doesn’t work out.”
“Okay,” I sighed. “This is probably a colossal mistake, but let’s do it. If it helps you move on, then I’m all for it.”
Liam smiled, lips stretching from ear to ear. It looked like a huge burden had been lifted off of his chest. “Thank you,” he said earnestly. “I mean it. This is really cool of you.”
Boy, I’ll say.
“Despite what you think, I’m not a complete asshole,” I replied. I couldn’t help but notice a glint of guilt flash across his blue eyes.
Liam clapped his hands together, doing his best to move our conversation along. “So, I can call up a few mutual friends we have with Drew. Maybe invite him out tomorrow? We could take him to that place on Fifth and Johnston.”
“Sure,” I agreed. “We can tell him it’s a soft bachelor party.”
“Good idea. I can text you with more info later?”
“Yeah, cool,” I muttered lamely. I wondered if I was doing a good job of hiding my disappointment.
“Cool.”
Liam stood up from the table, scooting the chair he was sitting on out with the back of his knees. He cleared his throat, doing his best not to look as happy as a peach. It was distressingly adorable, the way he tried to stifle his handsome smile. “I’ll see you later, then?” he asked, almost hopeful.
“See you later,” I said.
I honestly didn’t remember my walk back to my apartment. My mind was spinning, a thick fog of tormenting thoughts clouding my memory. When I finally arrived, I hopped into the shower, using the time to collect my thoughts. Was this really such a good idea? Somebody was bound to get hurt. But it was far too late for that. I was just going to have to grin and bear it. I said what I said, what’s done was done.
Of course, this didn’t stop me from mumbling bitterly under my breath the whole walk home.
With work being as crazy as it was, I hadn’t gone out for drinks in a really long time. The next day, I decided to freshen up a bit, shaving my face to remove the stubble that had started to fill in. I agonized for a good twenty minutes about what I was going to wear, ultimately deciding to go with a pair of dark blue jeans and a simple gray t-shirt. I didn’t want to come across like I was trying too hard. After all, who was I trying to impress? Liam? Why would I bother trying to impress a man who was so clearly in love with someone else?
I was sad, not stupid.
Once I had finished drying off and slipped into my clothes, my phone buzzed twice.
[Liam] okay, drinks are a go. Inviting a few old college buddies along. meet u at the bar around 7?
[Liam] this is liam btw
I rolled my eyes and snorted, feeling the smallest smile ghost across my lips. I’d never received a text from him before, not even by mistake. I mean, Liam had sent me teasing messages on scraps of paper during class before. And every single time, our teacher would catch the students in front of me passing notes, only to read it aloud in front of everyone. I remembered the sinking feeling I always got, remembered the echo of children laughing when Mrs. Wilmot cleared her throat and squinted to try and read Liam’s messy chicken scratch.
Mason smells like his dad’s barf.
My fingers began to move before I even realized what they were doing.
[Mason] I know who you are. I’ll be there.
A few seconds later, my phone buzzed again.
[Liam] thanks again. Really owe u one.
I sat down on the edge of my bed, listening to the way the mattress springs creaked under my weight. I flopped down, resting on my back with my legs dangling over the edge. I held my phone against my chest, feeling the warmth of the screen through the fabric of my shirt. I stared up at the white speckled ceiling, losing myself in the endless, random pattern. It was quiet and still in the apartment, the warm noonday sun heating the air through the windows. I listened to the steady beat of my heart in my chest and the gentle rhythm of my breathing, concentrating on the sensation of the cool bed covers just beneath me.
My phone buzzed again, startling me from my trance. I half-expected to see another text from Liam, but frowned when I read the message.
[Shawn] Are you ready to talk to me yet?
[Shawn] Why don’t we meet up somewhere and get a drink?
[Shawn] Come on, baby. You know I miss you.
I sneered at the screen. He really didn’t know when to give up. With a few quick taps, I blocked Shawn’s number. Sighing, I rolled onto my side and pressed my face against the mattress.
Why couldn’t life just be easy?
8
Liam
I shouldn’t have been surprised that Drew would bring Christian along. It was just the three of us for a good ten minutes, sitting at a table I’d reserved at Jimmy’s, a local pub Drew and I used to frequent when we were still scrambling through college together. I kept glancing at my watch, increasingly agitated when Drew and Christian started full-on making out just across from me. It was seven on the nose, so I was weirded out by the fact that Mason hadn’t showed up yet. I worried that I may have scared him off. Any sane person would have denied me my request. If he had, I honestly don’t think I would’ve blamed him.
Tommy and Philip finally showed up to interrupt the tongue-wrestling fest that I unfortunately had front-row seats to. They swept Drew up into a massive bear hug, practically burying the poor guy in their arms.
“How the fuck you doin’, man?” laughed Tommy, boisterous as always.
“We’re so happy for you!” cheered Philip.
“Guys, I can’t breathe,” whined Drew.
They let him go, slapping him encouragingly on the back of the shoulders. Tommy and Philip were brothers, though you probably wouldn’t be able to tell just by looking at them. They were both still wearing their business attire, save for the lack of their ties. Tommy was the elder brother by a year, towering over Philip by a good foot and a half. He had severe dark brown eyes and equally dark hair, which he wore cropped and neat. Philip on the other hand, was slim and short, looking more like a teenager fresh out of high school than a young professional. He wore several stud piercings in his left ear, had flowing shoulder-length brunette hair and a bushy beard that made him look like a modern-day Jesus.
Or a hipster from Brooklyn.
“You must be Christian,” said Tommy, turning to the man and sticking out his hand to shake. Christian stood up to greet our friends, as charming and polite as ever.
“It’s nice to meet you two,” he said with a massive smile. “It’s nice to finally meet more of Drew’s friends.”
Philip nudged Drew in the ribs with the point of his elbow and grinned. “Would you look at this piece of eye candy? You really know how to pick ‘em.”
Drew chuckled sheepishly. “I do, don’t I?”
The pub was starting to get a little busy. Hungry customers filed in to take up all the tables and standing space by the bar. The latest pop music played over the pub’s speaker system, the tune quickly drowned out by the sound of lively conversation, the
clinking of cutlery against dishes, and the sound of orders being read in the kitchen. I started to feel a little warm, overwhelmed slightly by the noise and the crowdedness of it all. We all took our seats around the small wooden table, a waitress dropping off several bottles of beer and glasses of wine.
“Isn’t Mason coming?” asked Drew.
“He said he would,” I answered.
“Who’s Mason?” asked Philip.
“Old friend,” replied Drew. “You’ll like him.”
“He single?”
Tommy snorted. “Can you stop being such a horny bitch for five seconds? We’re here to celebrate their engagement.”
Philip raised his hands in mock surrender. “I can be a horny bitch and party at the same time. It’s called multitasking.”
I smiled. Listening to Tommy and Philip always made me feel better. They really needed to consider becoming a comedy duo. They’d probably be great at it.
Philip clapped his hands together. “So, tell me everything. Where’d you meet? How’d you propose? You planning on having kids? We need to catch up more often.”
Christian laughed. “I like this one,” he decided.
“Told you,” chuckled Drew.
“Sorry,” Tommy chimed in. “I made the mistake of treating him to a Red Bull before we came.”
They engrossed themselves in conversation, catching up and reminiscing about our shared college days. But I was too distracted to really focus on what they were saying, still preoccupied with the watch on my wrist. Mason should have been here by now, and for some reason, his absence bothered me. A nagging feeling settled in the back of my mind, the muscles in my neck and shoulders inexplicably tense. I didn’t think I was going to be able to pull my plan off without Mason’s help. Maybe that’s why I was feeling so annoyed. I contemplated texting him, but decided against it. I didn’t want to seem like more of a pathetic loser than I already felt.
