by Max Hudson
Last night was so weird, he thought. I wonder what Ari thinks right now. I wonder if he's mad at me.
He shook his head and lifted his phone.
“Floyd, I need to call you back.”
Floyd huffed. “That's fine.”
The line disconnected before Noah could say more. He tossed his phone on the coffee table and snatched the pillows from the couch, fixing them in a frantic attempt to shake the wave of nausea that had taken over his gut.
“What do I do?” he asked his empty apartment. “What do I say?”
He closed his eyes and stood in the middle of the living room, absorbing the silence around him. But not for long. Noise from the street penetrated the window, invading his ears with the sound of humanity: a blaring horn, a car alarm cut short, motors whirling, birds chirping, people chatting. All of it combined into a hissing white noise that prompted him to move.
He went to the kitchen and stared at the fridge.
I'm not hungry. He moved to the cabinet. I'm not hungry, not yet. He reached feverishly for the coffee machine, following his muscle memory to make a fresh cup of coffee. This should help.
After a few minutes, the machine bubbled and the heavenly smell of hazelnut mixed with dark roast filled the kitchen. He poured himself a heaping cup and forewent creamer, choosing sugar instead. When his coffee was prepared, he took a few calm sips with his eyes closed.
That sip was enough to propel him back into action. He returned to the living room with his mug and swept his phone from the coffee table.
I should talk to Ari.
He cringed at the thought, overwhelmed by indecision. If he did talk to Ari, he wasn't sure what would come of it. Considering Ari needed to make a professional decision about Floyd, it was possible that Ari would choose Floyd over Noah. And Noah wasn't excited about that possibility.
Noah blinked rapidly, hot tears threatening to fall down his face and betray him. He stared at the screen of his phone. A few more messages from Floyd had appeared and they looked far from amiable. As much as he wanted to sort things out, he was spent, and he found himself retreating to his room while clutching his phone in his left hand and his coffee mug in his right hand.
He set his mug of coffee down on the nightstand. The curtains were drawn, casting deep shadows in the corners of the room and permeating over the floor to his feet. He could hardly see his legs but he could still see their outline. As he sank into his mattress, he let the cool sheets calm his twitching skin. His eyelids were heavy. His heart felt hollow and his chest felt as though it were about to cave right into his organs.
While shrugging his shoulders, he took a few cleansing breaths. He chased away the remaining fears occupying his gut—along with that pesky nausea—and held up his phone again, allowing the light from the screen to illuminate his features.
“I bet you two were talking about me this whole time,” Floyd accused. “I bet you were having a good laugh over my pain.”
“No, Floyd. I would never do such a thing,” Noah typed quickly. “Why would I do that? Why would you suspect that?”
“My father left and you're about to leave, too.”
Noah stared at the statement. His expression faded from anger to guilt, and ultimately to compassionate sorrow. He took another deep breath and exhaled slowly as he typed his response: “I'm not leaving you.”
“I just need time to think.”
“That might be best for everyone.”
“I'm going to talk to Dr. Davies tomorrow. I'll let him know how I feel.”
Noah sighed. “That's not a bad idea.”
“You need to decide who you want. You can't have us both.”
Noah slowly set his phone down and opted for his coffee, allowing the warm liquid to soothe his aching muscles. His body still echoed the wonderful pleasure he had gained from Ari, but now it was mixed with a sense of strained remorse.
I can't choose. He knows that. It's like asking me to choose life or death or something ridiculous like that.
He closed his eyes and cupped his mug between his hands. The hot ceramic stung his skin, but he didn't set the cup down. He held it tightly, focusing on the sensation resonating in his palms and trickling up his arms.
When he opened his eyes, he noticed the notification light on his phone blinking. He could only imagine it was more messages from Floyd. And he wasn't sure how much more of Floyd he could handle.
He lifted his phone and unlocked the screen.
“Ari,” he whispered. “Ari is texting me.”
He set down the mug and held his phone with both hands.
“Maybe we should take some time apart,” Ari suggested. “It could provide a lot of insight for everyone involved.”
Noah shook his head, typing, “I don't want to be away from you.”
“I think it's the best course of action.”
“What about last night? What about us?”
Three dots danced at the bottom of the screen in quick succession, raising Noah's heart rate every time they disappeared and reappeared.
Ari finally wrote, “Last night was both jarring and wonderful.”
“What am I supposed to do? Floyd is driving me crazy. I don't want to deal with him by myself.”
“I'm sure he'll be more receptive to what you have to say than anyone else.”
Noah cringed. “He's acting nuts. I don't know what to do.”
“As long as he's not posing harm to himself or others, everything should be just fine.”
“I don't want to do this alone.”
“Does he have any friends you can call?”
Noah swallowed hard. “Besides me? No, I don't think so. He's cut ties with most people in his life.”
“That's a shame. A support system would be necessary in such a time.”
“I'm basically his support system.”
“It might be better for you to choose his friendship so he doesn't feel so alone.”
Noah frowned and shook his head. “No, I want you, too. I want to have this relationship with you. It's the best I've ever had.”
“Then, let's think on it for a bit.”
“Ari, please...”
What am I trying to say? Noah reflected nervously. Why am I begging? What's happening to me? Have I started to turn into Floyd?
He carefully placed his phone on his bed and rubbed his temples, listening to the air kick on in the background. The vent above his bed blew cool air against his back, causing him to shiver. He shook his head and tossed himself back on the mattress.
He stared into the shadows, searching them for an answer. Was there an answer? It was hard to manage everything at once. An image of Floyd swirled around a picture of Ari in his head, reminding him how close the two were linked. If Ari would simply drop Floyd, then the whole matter would be solved.
Am I being selfish? Am I too attached to Ari?
He snatched his pillow up from the bed and shoved it into his face, rolling to his side at the same time. He exhaled into the fabric as he curled into a ball, bringing his knees as far up to his chest as possible. He was sure his phone was exploding with more messages, but he didn't care to check them.
And like a specter on Halloween night, sadness crept in. The dark emotion settled in the pit of his stomach and made camp there without any indication of leaving.
As long as I'm friends with Floyd, he considered. I may never be happy again.
Chapter Eleven
Ari
The office was chillier than usual. Ari perched himself at his desk with a cup of coffee and the morning paper, eyes dashing across the page without focusing on anything in particular. His fingers flicked the pages over, sifting through every section available to be read. The sports, the stocks, the political reports, and finally the obituaries all met his fleeting gaze, his frantic eyes.
What am I searching for?
Beyond the rustling newsprint came the sound of a tentative knock. He peered over the print and noticed Floyd standing, as dishevel
ed as any day, in the doorway. Though Floyd appeared relatively unkempt, his eyes were lively and aware, clear as the sky outside.
“Floyd,” Ari greeted professionally as he set down the paper, folding it neatly back into its original position. “Please, come in.”
“I won't be long.”
“Are we scheduled for today?”
Floyd shook his head. “I've come to talk about Tanner. You know him as Noah. I can see how you got confused.”
Ari was surprised by the statement but resisted the urge to show it. He gestured to the empty chair in front of his desk. Floyd ignored the invitation. He stepped right up to the edge of Ari's desk, shoulders squared, back rigidly straight, and eyes red-rimmed from either a drunken stupor or a crying fit.
Or both.
Floyd tapped idly on the desk as he spoke, “I know Tanner knew about how I felt. It's clear now. He wanted to thwart my attempts.”
“How so?”
“He hooked up with you.”
Ari stifled a laugh. “I don't see how that's evident, Floyd.”
“I'll never have true love without my best friend. I think he knows that and he's made it clear that he won't ever try a relationship with me.”
Why would he want you? Ari thought angrily. You're a possessive drunk and you think people owe you attention just for existing. Why would Noah want that?
He blinked away the thought. “If Noah doesn't reciprocate, then that's his choice. That's his problem. It has nothing to do with you.”
“But it does. It has everything to do with me and our friendship. If he won't return my feelings, fine. That doesn't mean I can't make him pay for it.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because he owes me. Of all the times I had been there for him—of all the nights he crept into my room because of that stupid ex of his—he owes me for all that.”
Ari frowned purposefully. “Ex?”
“You don't know about Trevor, do you?”
“I don't. Noah has yet to share that with me, but I think he'll do that in his own time.”
Floyd grimaced. “You're still planning on seeing him, aren't you?”
“I haven't yet decided. I wanted to talk to you first.”
“Well, I don't think it's a great idea.”
Ari hummed curiously. “Why?”
“You really ought to know about Trevor. He was awful and he treated Noah like the worst kind of scum. Noah doesn't deserve that. He deserves to be treated well.”
“And you want to be the person who does that?”
Floyd flung his arms in the air. “Why not? I was the one that cleaned up that horrible mess that night. I was there for the whole thing. I saved Noah and he hasn't so much as thanked me since.”
Confusion seeped into Ari's skin, dripping like thick oil down into his muscles. It weighed him to his chair, concern swirling with the oil like a rainbow and giving it a deceptively mirthful appearance. But he knew better than to be tricked by someone in the midst of an emotional breakdown. He had to hold his own.
He cleared his throat. “It sounds like you were hurt by this event. Do you want to talk more about it?”
“Nope, you can't shrink your way into my brain. Not anymore.”
“I respect that boundary.”
Floyd shook his head. “You know what? You can have Tanner. Enjoy him until he decides to drop you like a bag of bricks like he did to me.”
Ari nodded professionally while folding his hands together. He kept his gaze steady on Floyd, resisting sudden motions or any decipherable facial expressions. It was a delicate moment and he knew exactly how to handle it.
If only I'd been this put together on Friday and Saturday, he thought regretfully. But what matters is that I'm doing it today.
“He'll do it to you,” Floyd continued as he backed toward the door. “Just you wait. And then you'll know I was right.”
“I empathize with that.”
Floyd chuckled. “I'm sure you do. You won't have to worry about hearing from me again. This will be our last session. I'll pay the secretary.”
“Don't worry about that. It's on the house.”
“Funny.”
Ari raised his eyebrows in inquiry.
“Take care of yourself, Dr. Davies.”
After a salute, Floyd left. His footfalls were quiet on the plush carpet leading to the front of the office. Ari stared at the empty space in the doorway until his eyes filled with flecks of color, with swirling shapes and undulating waves that warped his vision.
He blinked.
“Are you alright?”
He focused on Marc who had appeared at some point between Floyd's ominous farewell and Ari's disappearance into another world. He blinked again, trying to clear his vision. He gestured to the chair in front of his desk as Marc shut the door and joined him.
“I'm fine,” he sighed. “That was a lot.”
“I overheard.”
“How riveting.”
Marc chuckled lightly, fading into a concerned smile. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Well, I'm not sure. I'm still stricken by the moral ramifications.”
“There's nothing in the books that prevents you from seeing Noah, but this event might affect your reputation.”
“I don't much give a damn about my reputation right now.”
Marc nodded with understanding. “But you should. It's imperative to our practice.”
“What do I do, Marc?”
“I mean, how do you feel about Noah?”
Ari shrugged. “After that rather damaging input by Floyd, I have no idea.”
“Forget that. Drop it to the background. Without everything else—how do you feel about your relationship with Noah?”
Ari dropped his gaze to his hands, noticing his fingers quaking despite being firmly fastened together. He hid them beneath his desk and nestled them between his thighs to get them to stop shaking. They wouldn't.
He shook his head. “I enjoy Noah.”
“Enough to disregard what his best friend might say about you around town?”
“Sure. But I'm...Marc, this is so strange.”
Marc nodded. “I understand. It's a weird situation. There doesn't seem to be any clear right answer here.”
“As long as Floyd isn't my client, there shouldn't be a problem continuing my relationship with Noah.”
“But...”
Ari raised his eyebrows. “But?”
“It seemed like you were leading into something else.”
“I don't know.”
Marc chuckled. “I don't think I've ever heard you use that phrase in my life.”
“Hey, I've used it plenty of times. I'm not above admitting when my knowledge has run dry like a parched well.”
“It's just interesting.”
Ari huffed with amusement. “Now you're shrinking me.”
“Isn't that what we do to each other?”
“I suppose.”
Marc grinned. “What do you want to do? Without thinking of all the other ramifications here, what do you want?”
“I think I want Noah.”
“Then, it might be a good idea to find a compromise. Does Noah still want you? Have you spoken to him?”
Ari shook his head slowly. “I have yet to contact him since Saturday.”
“Space is good, but don't let that space grow into a prolonged radio silence. That could be much more damaging.”
“You're right.”
Marc gestured to Ari's mug. “Do you need a refill?”
“Please.”
Marc stood and lifted the mug from the desk, carrying it to the carafe sitting just behind him. Ari listened to the familiar sound of the carafe lifting from the hot plate, the glass touching the lip of the mug, the liquid sloshing out to fill the mug, and then the clink of the carafe returning to the hot plate.
He inhaled the roasted aroma as Marc set the fresh mug in front of him. He offered a small smile as he lifted it, took a si
p, and then set it back down. His hands had stopped shaking for the moment. Relieved, he set his hands on his desk as Marc sat down again.
Marc held up his own mug. “Better?”
“Much.”
“So, about Floyd.”
Ari sighed wearily. “Yes, that man is something. I'm worried about his health and whether he'll continue to seek help.”
“Do you think he's in danger?”
“No, I just think he's overrun with jealousy.”
Marc shrugged. “That's possible, especially considering the nature of his reaction.”
“I think it's true, Marc. I think he wants Noah so badly that he's willing to sabotage everything in order to gain Noah.”
“Did he threaten you? I thought I heard everything from the hall.”
Ari shook his head. “No, he didn't threaten me. I found it odd how he told me about Noah's past. It was just vague enough to make me curious, but ominous enough to concern me.”
“Well, it's up to Noah to share that.”
“I agree. And I'm afraid that bringing it up could drive a wedge between us.”
Marc nodded. “That's possible. Until you get to talk to Noah, you won't know much about anything.”
“And that's what bothers me so. I'm annoyed without all the facts. I feel like a blundering fool trying to navigate the sea for the first time.”
“We've all had to face weird times.”
Ari chuckled lightly. “This seems weirder than usual.”
“Weirder than you would like?”
“Very much.”
Marc hummed. “I'm sure there's a solution on the horizon. It will just take some time to get there.”
“And how many more nights must I spend wondering?”
“Are you actually asking or is that a rhetorical question?”
Ari sighed. “Can it be both?”
Marc laughed and Ari followed, enjoying the brief interruption. He held his gut and leaned forward, using is free hand to lift his coffee. He took a few more sips and set it aside. While staring out the window, his brain whirled with fresh thoughts, with observations, with half-truths. He wasn't sure what to believe.
Or whether he should believe much of it at all.
“I feel partly responsible, Marc,” he expressed sullenly. “I feel like I've cost a man his mental health.”
