by Jack Harbon
I dry my hands off on a dish towel and head upstairs. When I hear the shower running in my bathroom, the wheels in my head start turning. If Garrett is washing up, that means the bed is unoccupied. He won’t be able to stop me when I reclaim what’s mine. I hurry to the guest room where he tossed my bags and shuffle through my clothes. I don’t get all dressed up for bed, instead just stripping down to an oversized t-shirt and my underwear.
I do make sure to grab my phone charger and portable speaker. White noise has been the only thing that’s helped me sleep since we left for our trip, and now I’m kind of addicted to the sound of airplane cabins. With my small load of electronics, I head to my room, flopping down on the bed and setting everything up. It feels just like I remember, save for the deep, masculine cologne that clings to the sheets.
I want to hate it because it’s his, but I don’t. It smells nice, even if it’s Garrett’s smell.
Just as I get comfortable, he steps out of the bathroom in a pair of boxers, one of my towels in his hand as he dries off his hair. “Get out of my room,” he says without looking at me twice.
“That’s my line.”
“Seriously.”
“I am serious. I’m not sleeping anywhere else tonight, so if you want to go to the guest room, you’re more than welcome to. Especially since that’s what you are.”
He smirks at me. “I really bother you that much, huh? It must be hard being so insecure all the time.”
It shouldn’t hurt that he thinks that of me, but I’d be lying if I said otherwise. “I’d rather be insecure than arrogant.”
“You always act like this, dude. I don’t know why you think I’m some knockoff Dan Bilzerian, but I’m not. I’m not calling you insecure because I’m being a dick, I’m saying it because you’re projecting. You get to show off everything you buy with the money you’ve earned, so why am I the asshole because I do the same?”
The only thing more annoying than being around Garrett is being around him when he’s right and I have no comebacks.
“What’s your problem with me, straight up?” he asks, tossing the towel into the hamper and putting his hands on his hips. “You hate me for what? Having a nice car? Going to school? There’s nothing I’ve ever done to you that deserves even half the shit you throw at me.”
“Okay, you’re not innocent here either, Garrett,” I say, my voice rising. “You say awful shit to me too. You insult the people that watch me and Landry’s channel all the time.”
He puts his hands up. “Fair enough. I do that, yeah. But only because you started it. You’ve hated me since we first met each other. I thought maybe I was imagining it, but I know now that you’ve had it out for me for three years. And I want to know why.”
Before I can stop myself, I blurt out the truth. “Because you’re so goddamn perfect and special!”
Confusion crosses his face, and he scrunches his nose. “What?”
“You walked in here with your whole life figured out. You went to a good school, did ‘honest’ work, and you look like a fucking movie star. Everyone loves you, Garrett. All your professors. All your coworkers. Mom. You took her from me!”
Fuck. I shouldn’t have gone that far. I shouldn’t have said that much. I’ve just given Garrett all kinds of power over me, and now I know he’s going to use it against me and make me regret ever coming back to this house.
Garrett is quiet for a moment, looking me over carefully. “I didn’t take her from you.”
“Bullshit,” I reply. “Maybe not on purpose, but you did.”
“Elizabeth is your mom. She’s not mine. I wouldn’t ever want to take her from you, okay? I’m sorry that it seems that way, but that was never my intention.”
I really just want him to stop talking about this. I feel like a fucking idiot for admitting this to him. He’s only pretending to understand now, but in a few days when it’s time to fight with him again, he’ll throw it back in my face and brag about how Mom’s got the son she always dreamed of.
“Look, I’m sorry for insulting your channel, dude,” he says, crossing the room and taking a seat on the other side of the bed. “I mean it. I was just being a dick because you always get under my skin. You’re so hard to talk to when you’re in one of those moods. Which is often, might I add.”
“I’m a Taurus,” I murmur halfheartedly.
“No, you’re just an asshole. Sometimes.”
I smile despite myself.
“You don’t have to like me, but I do mean it. I’m sorry. I can’t promise that I won’t say something else mean when you irritate me, but I’ll try to be cool as long as you try to be cool.”
“Deal.” It feels blasphemous to consider calling a truce on this war we have going on, but here I am. There’s a nagging voice telling me that I fucked up by giving him a glimpse into my mind, but at the moment, it does feel good to have peace, even if it might last just this night.
“Deal,” he says, smiling at me. The way his cheeks rise to eclipse his eyes is almost obnoxiously cute. “By the way, your channel isn’t half bad.”
“You watch me?” I ask, fake gasping
“Don’t start with me. You stalk my IG page staring at me in my underwear and shit. But yes. I do watch you sometimes. You’re good at it. You’ve got this…presence. Were you a theater kid?”
“Ugh, yes, but don’t remind me.”
“I knew it. Overemotional and always trying to be the center of attention.”
“Shut up,” I say lightly. “By the way, I’m not getting out of this bed, just so you know. We may have peace now, but I’m still sleeping here.”
“If you wanna cuddle up with me, all you have to do is ask.”
“I’d rather cuddle with Samuel,” I say.
Garrett snorts and reaches for his phone, putting an end to the conversation. For the first time in…probably ever, we’re sitting in the same room, not hurling insults and slinging mud at each other. It’s really weird, but Garrett doesn’t seem to be stressing over it. Neither will I, I suppose. This doesn’t mean we’re best friends. We can still dislike each other all we want after he moves into his new house and I get my room back.
But for the time being, I’m going to enjoy the quiet, the way my mattress feels underneath me, and an occasional glance at Garrett’s biceps.
Chapter 3
With everyone back at home and under one roof, Mom’s been really hammering it in that we’re going to do family activities. For the past two nights, we’ve played more board games than I think I’ve ever played in my entire life, and tonight, her big idea of fun is getting all dressed up and heading to some bougie restaurant that probably doesn’t even taste good.
Our waiter makes his rounds quickly, handing out drinks, getting our appetizers, and giving us time to look over the menu, but my mind is made up from the minute I walk through the doors. Chicken biryani is all I get from this place, and that’s all I ever need. When I order, mom gives me a smile.
“As usual,” she says, and I shrug. When we used to come here years ago, we’d both get two huge servings and have enough for lunch the next day. Sometimes even a midnight snack after we returned from the restaurant.
Garrett gives me a look as Mom and Samuel start talking about something related to her job, and for the first time, I feel like I’m not alone at these family dinners. Whenever those two get to talking about work, it’s like a foreign language to me. I don’t know half the terms they use, and I’ve always felt like the odd man out. But not anymore.
Things have been…normal since we had our weird little heart-to-heart. We haven’t talked about it, which is probably for the best. I don’t want to make shit strange, so I’ve tried to keep the same energy as before. I occasionally rip on him for something, only this time, there’s a lot less contempt or heat. Garrett gives it right back, which is a relief. We’re not best friends, but we’re not sworn enemies either.
Garrett clears his throat and turns back to Mom and Samuel. “I was gonna wait t
o tell you all until later tonight, but…” He reaches into his pocket and places a new set of keys on the table, right in the center. Mom’s eyes light up, and she snatches up the keyring.
“Oh my god, is it ready?” she asks.
“It is.” Garrett bashfully scratches the back of his neck, glancing at Samuel.
“They finished up pretty quickly, didn’t they?” he asks.
“Yeah, I got the call this morning that they were done with the final touches and that I could move in next week. I actually went by today, that’s why I missed lunch. It’s even more beautiful in person.”
I don’t want to be jealous, but I can’t help it. After an entire week of apartment hunting to no avail, this is the last thing I need to hear about. Sure, I’m happy for Garrett and his new house—happier than I would’ve been months ago—but it’s just another reminder of how much better he is. How easily things come to him. Mom doesn’t help either, because she looks like she just won the lottery.
“Oh, I can’t wait to see it! What you showed us was gorgeous! You’ll have to take us up there sometime and give us the full tour. This is so wonderful.” The way she hugs the keys, you’d think Ty Pennington had just moved the bus to reveal an immaculate new home for her.
“I’m proud of you, son,” Samuel says, reaching over to give Garrett’s shoulder a squeeze. It’s a simple gesture, but I smile at it. There’s no doubt that I’m envious, but seeing Garrett happy, for once, doesn’t make me want to die.
“I am too, sweetheart.” Mom strokes his hand lightly, smiling wide. “Now we just need to get your brother on the right track and everything will be perfect.”
She says it like a joke, chuckling to herself, but to me, it’s like she’s just kicked me in the balls. Over a cliff. Into a lake full of hungry piranhas. It’s uncalled for, especially since this moment is about Garrett. I don’t want his spotlight. I don’t want this shine from him. And here Mom is, involving me, always needling in the fact that Garrett and I are on two different life paths.
“Elizabeth,” Samuel says quietly, glancing at me with sympathy.
Holy fuck, even he can see the way she does this. Is she the only one that doesn’t realize the second she married him, she decided to enroll me and Garrett into some kind of eternal competition that I would never possibly win at?
“I’m just teasing,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, Noel, you can be so sensitive sometimes.”
“I have a question,” I say, my throat aching as I try to force the words out. “How would you feel if Samuel sat here comparing everything you did to his ex-wife, hm?”
Her mouth falls open slightly, and she looks between the two of us. Samuel’s eyes are on the food in front of him. He picks at it silently while I can feel Garrett’s knee bouncing against mine anxiously.
“W-what? Why… I don’t think that’s fair,” she stutters.
“No, really, let’s talk about it,” I say, leaning forward. “What if every time you did something wrong, or something he just didn’t like, he reminded you that his ex would’ve never done that? What if he kept insisting that you were a failure because you weren’t as rich or as successful as her? How do you think that would feel? Would you not feel like shit if you were degraded every time he had the opportunity to insult you? Because I’m honestly really fucking sick of it. Sorry for cursing, but that’s the truth.”
Mom stares at me hard. “You’re being unfair, Noel, and you know it.”
“Am I? Or are you just mad that you’re being called out?” I’m not backing down. I can feel the tension between the four of us, and under any other situation, I’d leave it alone. I’d step back, cool off, and forget it. Not this time.
I refuse to be insulted day in and day out, and I won’t let her make Garrett the window of opportunity to send passive aggressive digs my way. After the talk we had, I know that he’s not trying to steal her from me. None of this was his fault. Mom’s the one that pinned us against each other when neither of us asked to be family.
“That’s enough, Noel. You’re ruining dinner,” she hisses, her eyes ablaze.
“And you’re ruining our relationship!” My voice rises, and I take a slow breath to control myself. Public freak outs are gross, and I don’t want to end up on Twitter for fighting in an Indian restaurant.
“Noel…”
“No, Mom, I’m done letting you talk me down and make me think you’re not pissed at me about what I chose to do. I dropped out of school. Big fucking deal. Cursing, sorry, I know. But you got pregnant at sixteen and barely graduated high school. Don’t sit here and judge me by a rubric you yourself wouldn’t even pass, okay? I get it. You’re upset with me because I didn’t do all the things that Garrett has, but that’s not my problem. I’m successful. I’m making a living for myself. When we agreed that I would move back home while I looked for apartments, I thought things would be like before you got married, but it’s obvious that you’re not interested in that.”
“Noel, honey, I am. I want that again. I just…”
“You just want me to be what you want me to be. But that’s not who I am,” I insist. “I’m not a corporate kind of guy. I don’t want the big, luxurious house. I just want to make what I’m passionate about and make people happy with my best friend. I just want my mom back. The one that I had before you got a stepson who gave you everything your real one couldn’t. The only reason I hated Garrett all this time was because you loved him more than me. I just want you to love me like you used to!”
The last sentence comes out strangled, and before she can say anything else, I push away from the table and make a beeline for the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. It’s empty, thankfully, so I lock the door. The sting of tears burns my eyes, and I hate myself for being the kind of person that cries in the bathroom.
I wish I could’ve said everything without breaking. Gotten it all off my chest and watched her realize just how fucked up she’s made me feel over this whole thing. But I couldn’t keep it together long enough to witness it. I’m the one that ran away crying.
“Fuck,” I whisper, but I want to yell. There’s an unrelenting rage rattling around in my chest that wants to break free, but I just barely contain it. I shove it down, clenching fists and swiping at tears before they can make it to my chin.
It was never like this before Mom met Samuel. Before their engagement, and then marriage, we were perfectly fine. Mom and son movie nights. Shopping sprees. I spoiled her rotten, made up for all the times I was a selfish, greedy child. We never even fought. But things are different. We’re different, and I hate it. Holy fuck, do I hate it.
There’s a knock at the door, followed by Garrett’s voice. “Hey, open up.”
“Go away,” I say without thinking.
“No.”
“I’m fine, Garrett. I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, I don’t care. I just need to piss.”
I don’t know whether to be grateful or insulted that he cares so little, but I unlock the door regardless. He pushes past me, then closes and locks the door back. “I don’t have to piss. Are you okay?”
“Asshole,” I mutter. “I’m fine. I’m glad I got to say what I wanted to say to her. She’s probably fuming out there, huh?”
“Um…” He presses his lips together and looks away. “She’s in the car with Dad right now. She’s…she’s really upset.”
“Really?” I hate the pang in my chest. It felt good to get it all out, but now that the anger has subsided, I just feel empty, emotionally sore. It doesn’t help knowing that I also upset her bad enough that she’s in the car. “Was she crying?”
Silence.
“Shit,” I sigh.
“No, don’t do that. This situation sucks, dude, but you need to say what you feel. It doesn’t do anybody good just holding onto this shit. Get it out in the open, don’t let it sit and fester inside you. At the risk of sounding like some motivational scam artist, communication is key.”
“Gross,” I
say, laughing despite the cocktail of unpleasant emotions I’m sipping on. “I guess. It just sucks. I wish it wasn’t like this anymore. I wish we were just…normal. How we used to be. I get things have to change, and you’re around much more, but the way she acts…”
“I see it too. I think Dad saw it as well. When people get called out for things, a lot of the time, the first line of defense is to downplay and ignore. But Dad said he’d talk to her. And if I need to, I’ll talk to her too. I’m proud that you finally said all of that, though. Even for the fact that I won’t have to deal with your attitude anymore.”
“No, that’s still not going anywhere,” I say, smiling.
“Because you’re a Taurus. I read about all that stuff, and you guys sound annoying.”
I scoff. “Okay, and what are you?”
Garrett confidently says, “Pisces,” like I couldn’t go on for hours about how annoying they are as well. Rather than laying into him with all kinds of criticism about astrological signs, I suggest we get out of this bathroom before someone who really needs it comes knocking.
I stop by the mirrors and look over myself to make sure that I’m not all red-eyed from crying. “I’m not going home,” I admit.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be at home right now. I wanna give her some time. Some space to deal with everything I said. I might get a hotel room or something.”
“You need a ride?” he offers.
He drove his car here while I rode with Mom and Samuel, so if avoiding the issue is my goal, I don’t really have another option aside from paying for an Uber. “Yeah,” I say, nodding. “That would be great.”
“Let’s get out of here then.” He gestures to the door, and after one quick look back at myself in the mirror, I unlock it and head outside.
Chapter 4
“You sure about this, man?” Garrett asks, pulling his gaze from the road and turning it toward me. In the dark ambiance of the city lights, his face looks more angular. More masculine, like it was chiseled out of stone by Michelangelo himself.
