Chapter 22 Callum
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CALLUM
“Did we have to come back?” Ian asks, dumping his duffel bag on the floor and jumping onto the couch.
We have class tomorrow, so yeah, we did have to come back, but I feel where he’s coming from. That lake house is paradise on earth.
“I wish we didn’t have to,” I say, sitting down next to Ian. “This week was so fun.”
“It sure was.” Ian waggles his eyebrows. “Are you well rested and well fucked?”
I scoff and don’t argue—we definitely did a lot of resting and…the second thing. While we didn’t get as adventurous as the first night, we definitely took advantage of the lack of neighbors.
I shudder with recollection and anticipation, and it takes Ian waving his hand in front of my eyes for me to snap out of my daze.
“Callum,” he says, dragging my name out, “you’re making bedroom eyes again.”
“Guilty,” I reply. “Do I have a problem?”
Ian smirking at me and kissing my forehead tells me all I need to know. “Never change, man.” He heads to the kitchen to cook lunch. I lean back into the couch cushion and pull my laptop out to waste some time, but a notification pops up that makes me squint in confusion.
Inbox: West Wisconsin Community College
From: Weber, Abigail
Who is she?
I had exactly one group project in community college, and my parents explicitly barred me from partnering up with any women, lest any of them lead me into temptation or whatever. Intrigued, I click on the email.
Hi Callum,
We don’t know each other, but I wanted to give you a heads up in case it’s useful. I’m in the Exercise Science program here, and some people claiming to be your parents showed up to a lecture this morning.
My stomach drops as soon as I read the word “parents.” Will those two ever give up and let me go? It’s been months, for Christ’s sake.
They went around before it started and asked a bunch of people if they know where you are because they said you disappeared.
I don’t think anyone gave your parents (if they are your parents) an answer, probably because the whole thing was creepy as hell, but I searched up your email in the system and thought I’d let you know.
Your parents seem worried, but if you don’t want to be found, just be aware that your parents are looking, if you’re still at WWCC.
Stay safe,
Abby Webber
My breath catches on a lump in my throat as I force the initial wave of panic down.
They’re looking for me, but my parents don’t know where I am. The only person back home who has any idea about my transfer is a nameless staff member who sent my transcript to WMU.
They won’t find me.
But still, I don’t know if I fully believe myself.
“What the actual fuck?” I mutter, more annoyed than scared.
Ian sticks his head out of the kitchen and raises an eyebrow before walking over. “What’s up?”
“My parents crashed a lecture at my old community college and asked if anyone knows where I am.” I swallow that lump in my throat.
“Shit. Are you okay?” Ian plops down next to me, and I drop my head to his shoulder.
“Yeah, I’m fine. They don’t know where I am—it’s just annoying that they aren’t giving up.”
“That’s good.” He slings an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer. “But crashing a lecture? Your parents are kinda obsessed, not gonna lie.”
“Maybe you’ll be as obsessed with me one day,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.
He chuckles and tightens his grip around me. “I’m already obsessed with you."
God, his constant affirmations never fail to make my heart flip.
For the first time ever, I feel like I matter to someone.
Hell, this is more than that—Ian managed to turn a bunch of my insecurities around by liking them.
My clothes, appearance, nerves, shyness, sex drive; things I tried to hide and change are what he tries to pull out of me.
“I’m kind of obsessed with you, too,” I say back. “Even if I’ve only said that to you.”
He shrugs. “Again, I don’t mind. It’s still super early for you, so I’ll wait as long as you need to tell other people.”
Sighing into his hair, I stay silent. The thought of coming out still sends an initial jolt of panic down my spine, but realistically, what’s gonna happen if I go further?
Sabrina and Laura exist as they are. I’ve seen other gay couples doing PDA all across campus.
I’ll be fine, at least here.
“I think I could come out some more,” I say.
He tilts his head up, meeting my gaze. “Like to our friends?”
“No.” I pause to suck in a grounding breath. “I was thinking more, uh, public.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I don’t want to hide you away.”
Ian smirks up at me, moving my hands down to his ass. “Ooh, I like possessive Callum. Sexy.”
I squeeze the firm muscle under my fingers. “You’re mine,” I growl.
It’s meant to be funny, but Ian sucks in a sharp breath.
“Fuck,” he hisses. “I like this way too much.”
Hmm. Noted.
He keeps talking, and it’s clear he’s on a roll. “Ooh, I’ll put your initials in my social media profile if you do, too.”
“I don’t have that,” I say immediately. “But you’re free to do whatever.”
“Oh, right. I mean, you could make one. Especially if you keep your profile private.” Ian shakes his head. “You don’t have to, though. It’s honestly not important—”
“I can make one,” I insist. “After all, I am trying to be as normal as possible.”
“There’s no such thing as normal. You already are.”
For a second, my heart stutters as doubt creeps into my brain. He’s almost being too chill about everything, and it’s giving me whatever the slow-motion, months-long version of whiplash is—I’m not used to being accepted, not at all.
Then I remind myself that Ian is my boyfriend. In theory, he has one of the widest dating pools out of anyone, but he’s dating me. He wants me. I asked him to be official, and he not only said yes, but he also got all enthusiastic.
I let out a breath and tell myself that I’m fine.
“Right,” I say, breaking the silence. “Let me do this social media thing.”
Ian’s face lights up as I navigate to the app store on my phone, and he pulls his profile up on his phone to show me while I wait for the download to finish.
Holy hell, all the baseball pictures and the couple of shirtless lakeside shots make me regret not signing up for this earlier.
I fumble through the sign-up screen on the app and immediately follow Ian’s account. He accepts my request right away, and I peek at his profile again to copy his bio, taking a sneaky scroll through some of his shirtless pictures from last summer.
He catches me with a sly little smirk, and my cheeks heat. Hopefully, I’ll work my way up to posting one of my own to get back at him. His eyes do go all glassy whenever I show any skin at all, and he’s always pawing at the hem of my shirt whenever we’re alone together.
Yup, he likes me back. And to think I doubted he ever could, even after he came out to me.
Shoot, I should focus on making my account. I flip back to Ian’s bio—it’s a string of the states he’s from, our university, and his graduation year. I tap my own version into my account.
WI/NH
WMU
I pause. While I’m hoping to graduate in four years, including my year and a half of community college, all that is still up in the air. I’ll leave it at WMU.
And I'll delete the NH. I don't need the world to know exactly where I am.
“So can I post a nauseating couple photo and tag you?” Ian asks. “That would be cute. Mostly because of you.”
I think for a second. While that would get the job done, I think I owe it to my other friends to fill them in more directly. Especially Laura. Looking back, she all but told me that Ian liked me, too.
“Can I actually tell people face to face?” I say. “I want to do it myself.”
The way Ian smiles makes me wonder if he’s going to maul me with another hug.
He doesn’t. “The Barrel is finally open again, and my team’s heading there tonight. Do you think we should host a pre at our place and you could tell our friends then?”
“That sounds good.” I smile back, and we go to the group chat to make the plan.
“They’re gonna guess, right?” I ponder out loud, scanning the cleaned-up living room. “Like, none of my stuff is lying around.”
“Nah.” Ian waves me off. “And what if they do? We’re gonna tell them anyway.”
Right. Yeah.
There’s a knock at the door, and Ian yells that it’s open. Given that Nick is always late, my instincts tell me that it’s Laura and Sabrina.
This is it. I’m coming out to Sabrina and announcing that Ian and I are boyfriends. My heart races, even though I know I’ll be fine.
As soon as the door opens, I grab Ian’s hand. He tilts his head to face me, smiling wide and pinching his lips together, and he gives me a squeeze.
Oh, it’s Nick. For once, he’s on time.
I squeeze tighter.
“Hey, am I the first to show up?” Nick says, kicking his boots off. “I never thought—” He stops in his tracks once he sees us, flicking his eyes between our hands and our faces.
Then he nods. “Fuck yeah.” Nick deposits his backpack on the floor, causing the bottles inside to jangle loudly, before rushing over to give us a group hug. “Scotty’s finally found someone who isn’t an asshole.”
“I’ll, uh, try not to be one,” I offer, not knowing what else to say in response.
Nick pulls back and slaps my shoulder. “Nah, you’re a good guy. Celebration shots, anyone?”
Ian and I both nod in approval, and our night gets started. We don’t go too wild, since Laura and Sabrina aren’t even here yet, but before long, the front door opens again, and they stride in.
Right as Ian and I are mid-kiss.
Chuckling, I pull back and straighten up. “I didn’t time this, I swear.”
“Are you two…” Laura breaks into a wide grin, pointing at me and Ian.
I nod. “Yup, Ian is my boyfriend.”
Woah. It’s my first time saying that out loud, and it couldn't feel any better.
Sabrina makes a whooping sound. “That’s so fucking cute, oh my god.”