Chapter 10 #2
"Drew,” he gestures to one of the guys, “heard you talking about axe-throwing and thought it sounded fun." Tyler's already shedding his coat. "You mind?"
"Course not. Doc, you know everyone?"
I know Tyler and Ethan. Drew looks vaguely familiar, frat president, maybe? The other two are watching me with open curiosity.
"Rex," the bigger one offers. "And that's Jaren. We've heard a lot about you."
"You have?"
"Gavin won't shut up about how smart you are," Rex says cheerfully. "It's actually kind of annoying."
Gavin throws an axe at the target with perhaps more force than necessary. "Rex talks out of his ass. Ignore him."
"No, no, tell me more," I say, finding my voice. "What exactly does he say?"
"Oh, you know." Rex grins. "'Doc's so smart, Doc explains things so well, Doc has this way of—'"
"Rex, I swear to god—"
"'—making everything make sense.'" Rex dodges Gavin's half-hearted punch. "It's cute. He's got a little crush on teacher."
"I do not have a—" Gavin's face is red. "We're studying. He's helping me understand… stuff."
"Stuff," Tyler repeats, looking between us with raised eyebrows. "Right."
"LGBTQIA+ terminology," I supply, because apparently my mouth works independently now. "He's learning about queer culture."
"For anthropological purposes," Gavin adds quickly.
"Anthropological," Ethan echoes, sharing a look with Tyler that speaks volumes. "Fascinating."
"Are we throwing or talking?" Drew asks, already picking up an axe. "Because I came to destroy targets, not watch Gavin die of embarrassment."
The group dynamic shifts everything. Where before it was charged and intimate, now it's loud and chaotic. They settle into lanes, immediately making it competitive because, of course, they do.
I shrink back, overwhelmed by the sudden invasion. This is why I don't do frat things. Too many big personalities, too much noise, too much—
"Hey." Gavin appears at my elbow. "You okay?"
"Fine."
"You're doing that thing where you try to become invisible."
"I don't—"
"You really do." He hands me an axe. "C'mon. Let's show these assholes how it's done."
"I've thrown exactly six times."
"And you're already better than Rex." He raises his voice. "Rex! Doc's gonna school you!"
"Gavin, no—"
But Rex is already bounding over, all Red Bull energy. "Oh, you're on! Loser buys shots!"
"I don't want to—"
"You got this," Gavin murmurs, close to my ear. "Remember what I taught you."
As if I could forget, every place he’s touched still burns.
I throw. Hit the middle ring. Rex whoops and takes his turn, missing entirely.
"How are you worse than the beginner?" Jaren laughs.
"Shut up! The lighting's weird in this lane!"
"The lighting's the same everywhere, dumbass."
And somehow I'm pulled into their orbit. Jaren's genuinely sweet, asking about my major and seeming actually interested in my research. Drew's more reserved but funny in a dry way. Rex is... Rex. He seems chaotic but harmless.
"So you're pre-med?" Jaren asks while I line up another throw.
"Trying to be. MCAT retakes are this spring."
"Brutal. My sister just went through that." He makes a sympathetic face. "She said it was worse than childbirth."
Rex calls over, "Your sister's never given birth."
"She's very dramatic." Jaren's smile tells me all I need to know about him. He's a nice guy who loves his sister.
I laugh as my axe flies straight; another middle ring.
"Damn, you're consistent," Drew notes. "Gavin, you created a monster."
"Natural talent," Gavin says, and the pride in his voice makes me warm. "Should see him with data analysis. Fucking beautiful."
"Gavin's got it bad," Rex stage-whispers to Tyler.
"So bad," Tyler agrees.
"Can we not?" Gavin complains, but he's fighting a smile.
"Not what? Discuss your obvious—"
"Ethan!” Tyler suddenly yelps. "Did you just… did that go in my pocket?"
We all turn to see Ethan looking innocent while Tyler fishes ice out of his back pocket.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You little—" Tyler lunges, Ethan dodges laughing, and suddenly they're chasing each other around the room like children.
"Jesus Christ," Drew mutters. "Every-fucking-where we go."
"They're happy," Jaren says mildly.
"They're nauseating."
"You're jealous," Rex decides. "When's the last time you got laid?"
"When's the last time you threw an axe that hit the target?"
While they bicker, I notice Gavin watching Tyler and Ethan. They've stopped running, Tyler crowding Ethan against the wall, both breathless and grinning. The look on Gavin's face is...
Wistful. Definitely wistful.
My stomach sinks. Right. He's figuring himself out. He's probably thinking about what it would be like to have that kind of love. To be open like that.
"Get a room!" Drew shouts.
"Tried that," Tyler calls back. "You assholes followed us here."
"We came for the axes, not the show."
"Your loss. We're very entertaining."
"Can confirm," Rex adds. "Thin walls in the house."
Ethan goes red. Tyler just looks smug.
"Okay, that's enough sharing," Gavin intervenes. "Back to throwing before someone says something we can't unhear."
The rest of the evening passes in a blur of competition and chirping. I relax bit by bit, especially when Jaren keeps including me in conversations, and Gavin stays close, occasionally correcting my form with brief touches that scramble my brain.
"You survived," Gavin says as we're leaving. The others have scattered to the bar, but Gavin waves them off. "I'll get Doc home."
"I can Uber—"
"Nope. I dragged you out, I'm taking you back." He bumps my shoulder. "Besides, we never finished the list."
The ride home is quieter. I'm pleasantly tired, possibly slightly buzzed from the beers Rex insisted I drink, "For accuracy!" which made no sense.
"Your friends are..." I search for words.
"A lot?"
"I was going to say nice."
"That too." He glances over. "Rex comes on strong, but he means well. And Jaren's genuinely one of the best humans I know."
"They seem to think you have a crush on me."
The truck swerves slightly. "They're idiots."
"Right." My chest feels hollow. "Of course."
"I mean, not that you're not, fuck." He pulls up outside my building and puts the truck in park. "Can we finish the list?"
"Now?"
"Yeah. Unless you're tired?"
I should be. Should go inside and put a safe distance between us. Instead… "Okay."
He grabs the crumpled paper. "'Reading.' What's that mean?"
"Calling someone out. Like..." I think. "Rex was reading you about your 'crush.'"
"Little shit," Gavin mutters. "Okay, 'kiki'?"
"Gossip session with friends."
"Like when you and your roommates talk about guys?"
"How do you know we talk about guys?"
"Lucky guess." He's staring at the steering wheel. "Do you? Talk about guys?"
"Sometimes."
"Anyone specific?"
The truck feels too small. "Sometimes."
"Yeah?" His voice is rough. "What do you say?"
"Gavin..."
"Sorry. Fuck. That's inappropriate." He scrubs his face. "Your house is right there. You should go."
I should. I really should.
"Usually I complain," I hear myself say. "About guys who text for weeks but never want to meet. Or meet once and ghost. Or treat me like their gay experiment before going back to girlfriends."
He flinches. "Doc—"
Tonight's been perfect. He's been perfect. If I don't say it now, I never will. So fuck it.
"But lately it's different." I'm staring at my hands. "Lately it's this one guy who's genuinely kind and smarter than he lets on and has really good hands."
"Good hands?"
"Really good. He taught me to throw axes." I risk a glance. He's staring at me, eyes dark. "My roommates are tired of hearing about him."
"Seb." My name sounds different in his mouth. Heavier. "I don't… I'm not—"
"I know." I reach for the door handle. "I know exactly what you're not."
"Wait—"
But I'm already out, heading for my door on unsteady legs.
"Doc! Seb!"
I turn. He's half out of the truck, looking wrecked.
"Thursday?" he asks. "Psychology study session?"
I should say no. Should protect what's left of my dignity.
"Same time," I agree.
His smile is complicated. "Text me when you're inside?"
"Why?"
"Just... please?"
I nod, not trusting my voice. Make it to my door on autopilot. My roommates are in the living room, three heads swiveling toward me in unison.
"So?" Leo demands. "How was the date?"
"It wasn't a date."
"You're flushed," Russell observes. "And is that sawdust in your hair?"
"We went axe-throwing."
"That's the most heterosexual date I've ever heard of," Max says.
"It wasn't—" I give up, heading for my room. "I'm going to bed."
"Tell us everything!" Leo calls. "Was he handsome? Did he pay? Did you—"
I close my door on their questions, falling onto my disaster of a bed. My phone buzzes.
Gavin
You inside alright?
Me
Yes
Gavin
Good
Thanks for tonight
Sorry if the guys were too much
Me
They were fine
Gavin
You were amazing
With the axes I mean
Natural talent
I stare at the texts, trying to parse meaning from pixels.
Me
I had a good teacher
The typing bubble appears and disappears several times. Finally:
Gavin
Sleep good, Doc
See you Thursday
I don't sleep well. I lie awake replaying every moment. Every touch. Every look. The way he said my name in the truck.
You know exactly what he's not.
I do. He's not gay. Not available. Not mine.
But for a few hours tonight, it felt like maybe he could be.
Why do I do this to myself?