Tyler
"Good morning!"
I jump at the sound of her voice.
She walks over to me and hugs me from behind.
"Sorry," she apologizes. "I didn't mean to startle you.".
"It's okay," I mumble. I drink the rest of my juice.
I watch as Liz walks over to the refrigerator and pours herself a glass as well. She takes a big gulp, takes two aspirins from the bottle on the counter, and swallows them down with another big swig of her juice.
"You get home alright?" I ask, breaking the silence.
"Something like that. Shelly was drunk. Tobias gave us all a ride home. That guy is such a creep. You know he had the nerve to ask me…"
"…Ethan kissed me" I interrupt.
Lizzy looks at me in complete shock.
"Shut…the…fuck…up!" she exclaims a little too loudly and, when realizing, she quiets herself down again. "When did this happen?" she asks again. She scoots closer to me.
I take another sip of my juice.
"Last night. After we got home."
"Did you guys have sex?" she blurts out.
I frown. "What? No. I mean, I stopped it before anything could happen."
She looks at me with confusion. Her eyes are asking me millions of questions.
"He was drunk. A little too drunk."
"That hasn't stopped you from fucking someone before? What's different?"
I laugh. "I don't even know anything about this guy. And he lives with us. That would make it too weird."
"No," she says. She gets up and walks over to the refrigerator. "You are making way too big a deal out of this."
I sigh. Yes, the fact that he lives here makes it too weird. What if this guy develops feelings? Or worse. What if he wants more?
"Ty?"
She wraps her arms around me. I lean my head against her embrace.
The fact that Lizzy knows exactly when to comfort me and how to do it, always makes me feel better If there is one thing that could make me feel better, it was the way that Liz always knew exactly when to comfort me and how to do that. Words fail. Words always fail. But having a best friend who knows exactly how to comfort without words, makes it all the more special
"Good morning." a groggy voice sounds from the other end of the apartment.
Liz lets go of me. She wipes her face with the sleeve of her nightgown.
"Good morning," she answers back. I say nothing. I look down at the glass in my hands.
Ethan walks up to the counter and takes the seat next to me. The faint smell of his cologne fills my nostrils as he sits down. I glance over at him. He is cradling his head in his hands.
"Can I get you some coffee?" Liz asks.
He nods his head without looking up.
"What the fuck happened last night?" he asks abruptly.
Liz and I look at each other.
Ethan glances at both of us. "What's wrong?"
Liz picks up on my cue.
"Nothing happened. I think the alcohol got the best of you."
He scoffs. Liz hands him a cup of coffee. He leans down and takes a deep whiff of the aroma that is filling the air.
"How the hell did I even get home?" he asks without looking up.
I look at Liz again.
"I walked you home actually. You were kind of too drunk to walk on your own."
We sat in silence for what seemed like forever. Liz started on some breakfast.
Perhaps Ethan can't remember? Maybe he was too drunk. At least then, it was a good idea to put a stop to it before something happened. Lord knows, I can't afford to deal with any drama right now.
"You know," he says as he devours a piece of bacon. "I can't recall when last I drank that much."
Liz laughs. I sit aside quietly eating a slice of toast. Liz hands me another glass of juice.
"Thank you," I say softly. She looks at me and smiles. She points in his direction and mouths something,
I shake my head. She looks at me again. This time with annoyance.
"So Ethan," she says, still looking at me. Then she shifts her gaze to him. "Where are you from?"
Ethan grabs a napkin to wipe his mouth.
"I am from Encinitas," he answers.
"Pacific coast?" I ask involuntarily.
He nods. "Uh-huh," he answers. "Born and raised there."
Liz nods along as if she is invested in his answers.
"You have any brothers and sisters?" she asks.
I look at her. Why is she interrogating this poor guy? She doesn't make eye contact.
Hmm. Maybe she is interested.
"Two brothers and a sister. Single mom."
That explains so much.
Being one of two kids made it easy growing up. My folks were less focused on their kids and more focused on their careers. But it doesn't come without its problems. Being one of two kids meant that when they did shift their focus on us, it meant that they really focused on us. Because then, being one of two kids only, meant that there was no one else to hide behind.
"Earth to Ty?"
Liz is waving her hand in front of my face to get my attention.
Fuck. They are done talking.
"Yeah?" I respond, shaking my head.
"I asked what class you have this morning?"
I glance over at Ethan. His gaze is studying me intensely.
"I have a midmorning class with Rodriguez," I fake disinterest.
I get up to put my glass in the kitchen sink.
"Oh," Ethan exclaims. "That's where I'm heading. Lemme get done and then I will walk over with you."
What? No!
"Uh, actually I was gonna…"
Liz stares me down as I get to mid-sentence. I look over at Ethan. His eyes are even bluer. He is staring through me, waiting for me to finish.
Fuck me.
I sigh. "You know what, that'll be cool."
He smiles and gulps the last of his coffee. His headache seemed to have disappeared all too quickly.
I feel every muscle in my body relaxing as the water hits me. I take some shampoo and lather up. My thoughts keep on drifting back to the night before.
"The question is, Tyler Baxter, what are you planning on doing about it?"
His words echo through my head. I can still feel his hard dick pressing against me. I can see his excitement soaking his underwear and the lust burning in his eyes.
My dick gets hard instantly at the thought.
Damnit! I scold myself. I start soaping up my body, being extra cautious as I near the scar on my upper right chest. It's still somewhat sensitive to the touch.
After my shower, I grab a few things that will be needed for my day and hurry out the door. Ethan was waiting on the couch when I walk out.
"You ready?" he gets up as I near the door
I nod somewhat annoyed and walk past him to the door.
Walking through campus next to Ethan made me seem invisible. People were doing double takes as they saw us walk past. Ethan seemed oblivious to all the attention that he was getting. I glanced over occasionally as we walked through campus toward the Old English Building. He was casually striding along with me with his hands tucked firmly in his pockets. He seemed somewhat nervous.
"Where are you from Tyler Baxter?" his question came out of the blue.
I looked over at him. He was watching me, waiting for a response.
Why is this guy getting under my skin?
"Why do you say my name like that?" I ask.
He snorts "It's your name, isn't it?" he asks.
We walk in silence for a few seconds.
"I uh…" I clear my throat. "I'm from Seattle," I answer.
I glance over at him again. He is waiting for more.
Fuck.
"Well, Brooklyn, I guess. My family moved around a lot. We settled in Seattle."
"Seattle?" he asks.
I nod. "Yup," I answer back. "The home of coffee and technology."
"And hot doctors?" he chimes in.
I laugh. "You watch too much tv," I answer back.
This time he laughs. He has the cutest dimples that cut into the corner of his mouth when he laughs.
I feel myself getting hard again. Fuck.
"So, are you gay?" I change the topic.
He shrugs. "I've never really labelled myself as such."
"Alright…" I am at a loss for words. This boy is confusing as fuck.
"I guess…" he says again. "I mean, I don't have a problem with it. Where I come from, it's not frowned upon. So, there is no need to come out to anyone or tell anyone any of your business."
We look at each other. I look away quickly.
We walk in silence for the rest of the way. The classroom was still somewhat empty when we got there. I scoot into my usual spot and as I swing my bag over my shoulder to drop it onto the seat next to me, Ethan sat down. I look at him. He smiles and takes out his notepad and a pen.
Silence settles in as Rodriguez walks in.
"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside of you," he says. Everyone stares at him intensely. "Maya Angelou was one of the most descriptive writers of her time. A woman of the essence as some would say. Stubborn but stern is what I call her."
Everyone laughs.
I stare at the images of a young Maya Angelou on the screen behind the professor. Ethan puts a small folded piece of paper in front of me. His focus is shifted to the same pictures.
I unfold the piece of paper.
I can't stop thinking about that kiss…
My body tenses. I look at him again. He is still paying attention to the professor. My eyes go back to the note in my hand. The words are scribbled in the neatest handwriting.
So he remembers? I question myself. But why did he pretend this morning that it didn't happen?
I start writing on the same piece of paper.
I am sorry. That's all I write. I slip the piece of paper back to him. He looks down at my hand and grazes it lightly as he takes it. He unfolds it and reads.
I shift my focus back to the screen. Some words scribbled down on an old piece of paper. One of Angelou's first pieces of writing. Professor Rodriguez is busy explaining something about art in poetry. But I am not following the conversation.
Then I feel a hand grazing mine again. I look down at the note that he slid into my hand.
I'm sorry that I came onto you. I thought that I am your type. Maybe I was wrong?
My eyes study the words carefully. I lift my pen and write without thinking.
I'm not looking to get into anything serious at the moment.
I slide the note back to him. He unfolds it all too quickly and starts writing. He makes eye contact with me as he slides the note back.
I never expected anything serious. That's not what I want at all.
I look up at him again. He is staring at the Professor.
I shake my head to clear my mind. What is it with this boy that makes me seem to want to forget everything that I've worked so hard for these past few months?
Liz's words echo through my mind. Damn Liz and her words of encouragement. Trying to get me to give it another go. And that after she knows very well that I am not in a position to maintain a relationship. Or anything for that matter. Not after what happened. I can't seem to lose focus. Fuck.
What is it that you want Ethan?
I slide the note back over. I watch as he unfolds it and reads. His reply was almost immediate.
I unfold the letter again.
I desperately want to kiss you again…
***
My leg shakes nervously as I await the nurse to draw some blood. The cold crisp air in the doctor's room is making my whole body tense up. I watch as she carefully picks up the tube for the blood samples. One by one, she inspects it, writes something on it with a sharpy, and then puts it down on the table. After several minutes, she takes out a big needle that she attaches onto a large injection. She takes an alcohol swab and turns to me.
"Alright," she says with a very fake smile on her face. "I am going to take a few samples of blood. Hold out your arms for me."
I shakily stretch out my two arms in front of me. I clench my fists as she inspects them both, searching for the one with the biggest visible vein.
"This one," she says as she pulls on my right arm. "Now I need you to take a deep breath in and out."
I do as I am told. The cold air fills my lungs and escapes just as quickly through my nostrils.
"Don't be nervous," she says as she cleans a patch of my skin with the very cold alcohol swab. "It's only a quick prick of the needle and then it will be over."
I nod my head and close my eyes. A few seconds later, I feel a sharp prick and then the needle pierces through my skin. I jump.
"Calm down," she says with her hand on my shoulder.
I open my eyes. She takes one by one tube and fills it with blood. I watch her drain my arm. She carefully places each filled tube in a white cold container before taking the next. Dizziness hits me. I close my eyes quickly and take another deep breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Just as the coach taught us to do when we feel the pressure getting to us on the field.
"There we go, young man."
Her voice fills the silence. I open my eyes as she pulls the needle from my arm. She takes a band-aid and places it carefully over the spot where she drew the blood from.
"What is that one for?" I point to the one empty tube lying on the table.
"That one," she says as she opens up another alcohol swab, "is for me to take a sample of your lymph nodes. Lift your neck."
I lift my neck and feel the pressure of the cold swab rubbing against my skin.
Holy shit. She is about to stick a needle into my neck. Fuck.
"Now I am gonna need you to sit very still for this one. It is gonna hurt just a little bit. But I need you to try and sit as still as you can, can you do that for me?"
This woman should have been a primary school teacher the way she talks.
I nod. I swallow hard and close my eyes. A very sharp pain shoots through my neck down my spine as the needle enters my skin. It hurts like hell.
"Almost done," she says. I hear some movement and then some pressure on the needle sticking out of my neck.
"There we go," she says as she withdraws the needle. She presses another cotton swab against the wound. "You can open your eyes now."
I feel the tears involuntarily roll down my cheeks as I open my eyes.
"You can get dressed now. Doctor Bronson will meet you back in his room," she adds with a smile and rubs my arm before she walks off.
***