by Lina Langley
“There’s no need to thank me—”
“You keep saying that,” he says, holding his hand up to stop me from talking. “But you’re wrong. I have more to thank you about than just coming to get me out of the drunk tank. Like… you’re always there to listen to me, even when I’m being a dick.”
I smile at him. I think I’m blushing a little. “There’s no need to thank me for that,” I say. “You’re easy to tune out.”
He laughs quietly, throwing his head back a little. “I know you’re always listening,” he says. “That’s the weird part about our… friendship, or whatever this is. You’re always great, even when you’re being a dick to me.”
“Aw,” I say with a pout. “And I thought I was doing such a good job defending myself.”
“That’s what you want to think,” he replies, raising his eyebrows. “But… you shouldn’t have to defend yourself and I definitely owe you an apology for that.”
I shake my head. “No,” I say. “Don’t be silly. I mean, we’re roommates, I assume I’m going to get on your nerves sometimes.”
“YougetonmynervesbecauseIhaveacrushonyou,” he says, so quietly I have to strain to hear him.
I lean forward, my brow furrowed. “Say again?”
He rolls his eyes, leaning back on the sofa and looking at the ceiling. “Oh, please,” he says. “Don’t make me saying again. That was already hard enough. You heard me.”
“Yeah, but I can’t—I couldn’t really process what you were saying,” I reply, furrowing my brow. I’m staring at him. “You have a crush on me?”
He runs his hand through his hair as he groans. He closes his eyes before he speaks. “God, you’re such an asshole.”
“What did I do?”
He scoffs. “Oh, please,” he says. “As if. You can act all innocent if you want, but you heard me perfectly well, and now you’re just torturing me. Isn’t that a sin?”
“I’m a sinner,” I reply, winking at him. “Also, no, not torturing your roommate isn’t anywhere in the bible.”
He rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile on his face. “Clearly, it needs to be updated.”
“Someone should get on that.”
Montgomery sighs deeply. “Anyway,” he says. “I feel better, so… thank you for letting me vomit my feelings all over you. Especially when it’s about you.”
I shrug my shoulders. “It’s whatever,” I say. “You have a crush on me. So what? Those come and go. You’ll get over it once you meet someone you like better.”
He opens his mouth to say something, but then he shuts it, and his entire face darkens. He swallows and nods. “Sure,” he says. “You’re right.”
I look him up and down. I want to reach out and squeeze his shoulder, but that feels inappropriate. Touching him right now feels like it would be very fraught, like it might be a problem. Not that I don’t want to. There’s a part of my body that feels like it wants to go over to him, kiss him on the mouth, tell him that he wasn’t wrong to feel like this.
I clear my throat instead. “You know I’m going to be a priest, right?”
“That’s what you say,” he replies, looking me up and down. “You know, on second thought, I think I might go out for breakfast. You can help yourself to pancakes.”
“You made pancakes?”
He doesn’t answer. He gets up and walks away. I watch as he picks up his helmet and walks out the door, then close my eyes as I lean back on the sofa and listen to him start up his bike.
CONTINUE
Chapter FIVE
It takes me a little while to remember what happened the night before when I wake up. My bed is still warm and unmade. I can hear people chattering outside, and it takes my brain a little while to process that it’s coming from my living room and not from the yard. I sit up as I think about the night before.
What was it that Cyrus said? That it wouldn’t change anything? We fell asleep together and I wanted to believe him, but I don’t know if I can. I’m almost sure everything is going to feel different now. I’m trying to ignore the pit in my stomach as I throw random clothes on and steel myself to walk out into the living room.
Montgomery and Cyrus are hanging out in the living room, sitting on opposites end on the sofa and laughing with each other. It’s weird to see them like this, to the point where I think I hold my breath for a few seconds.
They stop talking when they spot me. Montgomery smiles at me. “Hey,” he says. “Did we wake you up?”
I shake my head. “No,” I say. “You… no.”
They exchange a look. I don’t know if I’m supposed to see it. I swallow down my questions. I don’t really think I have the energy to question them on any of this. “Is there coffee?”
“Yes,” Cyrus says. “I made some.”
I nod and turn away from him. That shouldn’t surprise me, Cyrus stays over often and he knows he can treat my place like his, but he’s making coffee like… we’re dating or something, and I’m sure I’m reading too much into it, but now I just want to go back to bed and forget that anything happened. I don’t want to be the one guilty of making things awkward between us. So far, I’m doing a spectacular job.
“Alex,” Cyrus says.
“What?” I ask, not turning around.
“Come here,” he says.
“I was making coffee—”
“You’ll make it in a minute,” he says. “Come here.”
I walk over to the living room and stand nearby but don’t sit down. I don’t think I do it on purpose, but once I’m there, I realize this is good. This way, I can leave whenever I need to. “What?”
“You need to relax,” Montgomery says.
I glare at him. “I’m relaxed,” I say. “Super relaxed. I might as well be on a cruise.”
Cyrus laughs. “Seriously,” he says. “Monty is right—”
Montgomery tuts. “You know I hate that—”
Cyrus holds up his hand. “One sec, Monty,” he says. “Alex, I’m serious. This is only as big a deal as you make it.”
I clench my jaw but manage to smile at him. He’s still exchanging looks with Montgomery. “Right,” I say. “Well, I’m going to go get that coffee.”
“He’s right,” Montgomery says as I start to walk away. “Things can stay the same, you know. All you have to do is act like they are.”
“Yeah!” Cyrus chimes in.
I look at them over my shoulder. “So are you saying that if I ignore it, it’s going to go away?”
“Duh,” Montgomery says. “What do you think everyone else does?”
CONTINUE
They keep chatting as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, but none of this seems normal to me. They might make it seem like it’s not a big deal, and Cyrus might have wanted nothing to change, but I don’t know if that’s what I want.
It’s weird to watch them talk like this, as if they are the ones that are friends. I can’t help but be a little jealous. I know I’m being irrational, but right now, I don’t give a fuck. It’s almost lunch time when I’m done dicking around on the internet and they are still talking about, I don’t know, football or something just as interesting as that.
I sigh as I approach the living room. “Cyrus,” I say. “Can you come in here a bit?”
He smiles at me, his eyes shining. “Oh, yes, sorry, babe,” he says. “I completely abandoned you, huh?”
I smile at him. I don’t mind that he has fun, but something feels incredibly off about this. I can’t quite put my finger on it. “Nah,” I say. “It’s okay. I just need you for a second.”
Montgomery wrinkles his nose. “He’s jealous,” he says. “We’re too cute.”
I try to laugh, but it’s hard. I don’t think I’d be okay with them being together, but I can’t figure out why. Maybe it’s just because I’m protective of Cyrus. Yes, that must be it.
“Adorable,” I reply without much conviction.
Montgomery stands up and walks to his bedroom. He closes th
e door behind him and starts playing music loudly. I don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful to him. I walk over to where Cyrus is and sit down next to him. “Hey,” I say. “Can we talk?”
“Sure, honey,” he says. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “Ever since… you said not to make it a big deal, but it doesn’t feel like it’s something we should just forget.”
He smiles at me. “Wait,” he says. “You thought I was going to forget that?”
“I thought there was a chance that you might,” I say. “I mean, you made it seem like it was nothing, but it’s a big deal to me.”
He looks me up and down. “Why?”
I blink. “What do you mean, why?”
“I mean why,” he replies. “Look, it’s a thing, it happened. I thought you didn’t want things to change, Alex.”
I swallow. “I don’t,” I say. “I didn’t.”
“But you do now?” he asks.
“No,” I reply, biting my lower lip. “I don’t know. Fuck, maybe.”
He stares at me, his eyes narrow. He’s tapping his fingers on his jeans and not saying anything. “You need to make a decision,” he says. “You can’t keep doing this.”
“What am I doing?”
He cocks his head. “You’re making everyone else suffer because you can’t make up your damn mind.”
“That’s not fair,” I say.
He raises his eyebrows. “No, it isn’t,” he says. Then he tilts his head again. For a second, all I can see is how tired he looks. “What do you want, Alex?”
I lick my lips and shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know,” I say. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know.”
“Okay,” he says. “Then it shouldn’t get to change. It doesn’t get to, if you don’t want it to. And you don’t.”
I want to say that he’s wrong, but it feels like everything I say is just going to make things worse between us. I don’t say anything. Instead, I get closer to his face, until our foreheads are touching and my eyes are closed. I can hear his breathing, or maybe it’s mine. I swallow before I speak, my throat dry. “Cy?”
He takes a while to answer. For a second, I think that he won’t. “What?”
“You know that I love you, right?”
Again, a long moment passes. He lets out a deep breath. I can feel his entire body shuddering, even though I’m not holding him close. When he speaks, his voice is a whisper, and it sounds like it’s about to break. “Yeah,” he says. “I know that. Of course I know that.”
CONTINUE
Chapter FIVE
It takes me a little while to remember what happened the night before when I wake up. I think I’m in my bed until I realize I’m in Cyrus’ bed, in his bedroom. Sunlight is streaming through the slots in the blinds. There are three pillows on Cyrus’ side of… on Cyrus’ bed, other than the one I’m using.
I close my eyes as I think about the night before. Cyrus was laying next to me, holding me close, and it felt like everything was right. But now I’ve woken up and everything feels different, grayer somehow. I still can’t really understand it.
What was it that Cyrus said? That it wouldn’t change anything? We fell asleep together and I wanted to believe him, but I don’t know if I can. I’m almost sure everything is going to feel different now. I’m trying to ignore the pit in my stomach as I collect my clothes from the carpeted floor.
I steel myself as I walk out the door. I can hear Cyrus whistling, puttering around in the kitchen. I don’t want to approach him and say something which I might regret. Or maybe not say anything and make things worse.
He notices me walking toward him and flashes me a smile. “Good morning,” he says. “You slept in. And put your clothes on?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Did you expect me to walk around naked or something?”
He shrugs. “I so wouldn’t have been mad at that,” he says. “I made coffee. Do you want me to cook?”
I snicker. “You can’t cook,” I say. “Like, at all.”
“True, but I can go pick up breakfast,” he replies. “And that’s basically the same thing, right?”
I bite my lower lip and try to stop myself from smiling. “Right,” I reply. “I don’t really want you to go anywhere, though.”
“Well, aren’t you sweet?” he says, more to himself than to me. If I didn’t know any better, I would think there’s a note of bitterness in his voice. He clears his throat before he speaks again. “Anyway. Do you want coffee?”
“Sure,” I reply, shrugging my shoulders. I walk over to where he is in the kitchen and watch as he pours me a dark coffee.
“Not as good as the stuff at your place, but should do the trick to get you going.”
I lick my lips. My mind is already racing and I don’t know if I need any outside help to get going. “Thanks,” I say, taking a sip. It tastes like tar. I make a face and it makes Cyrus laugh.
“Look,” he says, winking at me. “I try my best.”
I smile, shaking my head. “Don’t we all.”
We’re quiet for a few seconds. I don’t want to say anything and I don’t think Cyrus wants to say anything either. It feels like everything is hanging in a delicate balance and if either one of us messes it, everything is going to come crumbling down.
“Cy—”
“Alex—”
I laugh. “You can go first,” I say. “Sorry.”
He licks his lips. When he speaks again, his voice is trembling. “I don’t really know where to start.”
I nod. “I thought it wasn’t going to change anything.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not,” he says into his coffee. “It shouldn’t.”
He looks up at me when he says that, his eyes wide and watery. He’s waiting for me to say something, but I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what I can say to that. He walks around so he’s standing right in front of me, our gazes meeting. He’s shorter than me, barely, but right now, it feels like he’s towering over me.
Even looking away feels like it would be the wrong move here. He puts the cup of coffee on the cupboard behind me then grabs my arms and squeezes them. “It shouldn’t,” he says again. “You don’t want it to change, do you?”
I open my mouth to tell him that I don’t—I think I don’t, anyway, and that feels important--but something doesn’t feel right about answering that. It’s like he’s asking me a different question, and whatever answer I give him, it’s going to be the wrong one. I get closer to his face, until our foreheads are touching and my eyes are closed. I can hear his breathing, or maybe it’s mine. I swallow before I speak, my throat dry. “Cy?”
He takes a while to answer. For a second, I think that he won’t. “What?”
“You know that I love you, right?”
Again, a long moment passes. He lets out a deep breath. I can feel his entire body shuddering, even though I’m not holding him close. When he speaks, his voice is a whisper, and it sounds like it’s about to break. Yeah,” he says. “I know that. Of course I know that.”
CONTINUE
I notice that I’m trying to sneak into my own house because I want to avoid talking to Montgomery. I intend to go into my bedroom and avoid seeing him, if possible, but I can hear his footsteps coming toward me. Fuck. Of course I’m not going to be able to avoid him.
He raises his eyebrows and nods as a way of greeting. “Hey,” I say. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“No thanks to you,” he replies with a wink, then he looks me up and down. “Wait, is that what you were wearing last night? Choirboy’s first walk of shame?”
I shake my head. “No,” I say. “It’s not what you think. I mean, yes, but not… not like that. You’re not mad at me?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess, a little,” he says, rolling his eyes. “What do you want?”
“I want to apologize,” I say. “I shouldn’t have left you. For what it’s worth, I learned my lesson.”
He cocks his head, th
en laughs quietly. He rubs his wrist, where I was touching him. “It’s fine,” he says. “Thank you for going to pick me up in the first place. I was tipsy and annoyed. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
I smile and shake my head. “I should have stayed with you,” I say. “It was mean-spirited to leave you there alone.”
He laughs again. “No, don’t worry about it, choirboy,” he says. “You came to get me and you got in trouble. It didn’t surprise that you had to take care of yourself.”
“Should have taken care of you, too,” I say.
“Not your responsibility, choirboy,” he says, looking me up and down. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look… pale.”
“I had a hell of a night,” I say, shaking my head and pinching the bridge of my nose. “You don’t have to worry about it.”
He extends his arms and squeezes my shoulder. When I look at him, he’s winking. “I want to worry about it,” he says. “Consider it payment for leaving me behind in the drunk tank.”
“You said it wasn’t my responsibility.”
“It isn’t,” he says, wrinkling his nose. “Gossip is. You know I live on tea.”
“Cyrus,” I say, looking down at my feet. “It was Cyrus. That’s my walk of shame.”
“Daaamn,” he replies. “Congratulations. Bro is hot as fuck. Way out of your league.”
“…Thanks?”
“You don’t look too happy,” he says. “If I were you, I’d be telling everyone about it.”
I shake my head. “No,” I say. “No, you don’t understand. It’s probably nothing. It can’t be—it’s not…”
He waits for a few seconds, then cocks his head. When he speaks again, there’s a smile on his face. “Welcome to living your life, choirboy,” he says. “It’s shit.”
I laugh, little humor in my voice. “You were the one who was encouraging this!”
He starts walking backward toward the kitchen. “Why are you listening to me? I suck at giving advice,” he says. He grabs his keys from the accent table in the foyer, along with his helmet. “See you later. I’m going out.”
