10. Will
WILL
Last night definitely didn’t end like I thought it would, but it was fun. Porter challenges me in ways that none of my other friends do. The playful back-and-forth honestly almost felt like flirting, even if that’s not what we were doing.
I felt a little weird about leaving him all alone last night after insisting he leave the bar with me even though he didn’t seem sick or anything.
I helped him get home safely with food and water, it should have been enough, but I think I still feel guilty about ruining his bike because nothing ever feels like I’m doing enough for him.
The coffee comment last night was a perfect excuse for me to check on him this morning for his actual birthday though.
Will
Hey birthday boy, you alive?
I pull up the internet and search for the best coffee shops around.
My usual place is fine, but I only go there because it’s the closest to my apartment.
Maybe there’s a better option for Porter since he seemed so offended by my “caffeine is caffeine” comment when we met at his work.
I feel like we made great progress last night, and I don’t want to ruin that by accidentally bringing him crappy coffee.
Shit, I hope he remembers and isn’t really confused by my text. Three blue dots appear and disappear, and my concern grows with each one until his text finally comes through.
Porter
Barely. Taco Bell is a blessing and a curse.
Oh thank fuck, he remembers.
Will
Worth it though
Porter
Yep, I regret nothing
His quick response has a smile stretching across my face.
I’m glad he isn’t mad that I basically stepped in to pull him away from that guy who was grinding all over him.
It probably wasn’t my place, I’m the last person who should be judging other people for their hookups, but I do care about Porter.
Something about the way that guy was looking at him, like he wanted to devour him, didn’t sit right with me.
Especially because I don’t think Porter even realized how drunk he was.
When I saw him spill half his shot down his arm, I was out of my seat before I’d even made the conscious decision to do anything about it.
And I’m glad I did, because ending the night hanging out with Porter was great.
With his comments about birthday sex and lace underwear, it was hard to forget how horny I’ve been lately though.
Sure, it would’ve been nice to hook up last night and get myself out of my slump, but that can happen any night.
Porter only has one twenty-first birthday.
Hearing that he’s glad he spent it with me is more satisfying than any one-night stand.
Will
Good, me neither
I type out my next text, hesitating for a moment before I send it.
Is it weird to go all the way to his place just to bring him coffee?
Even though he teased me about spoiling him last night, he seemed to enjoy it, so why should I stop now?
I’d do it for my roommates, but we’re all already in the same place.
Fuck it, I did make him a promise. Sort of.
Will
How about that coffee?
If he doesn’t want me to come, I’m sure he’ll come up with an excuse, or hell, knowing Porter, he’ll probably just tell me he doesn’t want me to come.
I normally don’t question myself, so I have no idea why I suddenly am with him.
I guess I’ve never had to worry this much about winning someone over, and it has me overthinking everything.
I’m glad I went for it, though, because he responds almost immediately, so he obviously doesn’t think it’s weird either.
Porter
Iced salted caramel latte, please and thank you.
According to my very thorough research involving a comment thread on a social media post about the best coffee on our campus, the place I normally go is, in fact, shit.
I decide on a shop I’ve never heard of that’s not exactly on the way but has the most people recommending it, so I think it’ll be worth it.
Nearly thirty minutes later I’m knocking on Porter’s door, holding two coffees. He opens it, somehow still looking more put together than I ever do, wearing a cropped shirt and sweats, despite the fact that his eyes aren’t quite open all the way.
“Morning, birthday boy.” I greet him with as much enthusiasm as I can manage through my own headache. We really did a lot of shots last night.
“My hero.” He smirks and grabs his coffee dramatically, clutching it to his chest for a moment like it’s something precious. “Thank you, come in.”
I follow him into his living room and sit on the opposite couch. “So, how’s the hangover feeling this morning?”
“Manageable,” he responds with a shrug. “Took some Tylenol, but I’m sure this’ll help more.”
“The morning of my twenty-first was brutal, so I get it. Could barely get to class. It was a Wednesday.”
“Oof, a weekday birthday? I’m shocked you made it to class at all. That’s rough.” He takes a sip and sighs loudly. “God. This is exactly what I needed. What coffee shop is this from?”
“Joe’s Coffee. Apparently it’s the best around.”
“I take offense to that since I think I actually make the best coffee around, not Joe,” Porter teases, and I laugh.
“Now I’m picturing a lineup of coffee from all the shops on campus for a taste-testing competition. My dad did that once in the town I grew up in, actually.”
“Wait, wait. Your dad loves good coffee and you really said caffeine is caffeine?” He looks mortified.
I can feel my cheeks heat a smidge. “Well, yeah. I’m not picky.
My dad has a far more refined palette. He has an espresso machine at home and loves to make all sorts of fancy drinks.
Meanwhile, I just make it from the pot every morning.
” Porter’s jaw falls open at my admission, and I can’t help but laugh. “It’s not that bad.”
“Well, I guess at least you didn’t call it expresso,” he jokes.
“I would when I was a kid, but he corrected me when I was older. Said it was cute for a bit though,” I admit, smiling fondly about the memories.
“Your dad sounds great.”
“Yeah. I’ve always looked up to him. He’s taught me just about everything I know, except lacrosse,” I say with a laugh.
“He pretends to be into it because I am, even if I know it’s not his thing.
It’s probably because he always emphasized that showing up matters because it’s the little things that stick with you.
Anyway, what about your dad? Do you make him fancy coffee or did he teach you? ”
As soon as the question is out of my mouth, I see Porter’s smile falter, and I realize I shouldn’t have asked.
“I, uh, no. My dad left when I was growing up, so no coffee for him.” I can tell he’s going for a teasing tone, but my heart breaks for him. The casual conversation feels like it’s instantly evaporated.
“Oh shit, Porter, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories, especially on your birthday.” I can tell my question hurt even though that was obviously not my intention. Fuck, I really need to do better with him. It’s like two steps forward and one step back.
He gives me a tight-lipped smile, a poor imitation of his earlier grin. “Don’t worry about it. It was a long time ago.” He takes a long sip of his coffee. “You sound like you really had a great childhood. That’s awesome, even if I am jealous.”
I can see his attempt to deflect. I don’t want to just brush past important topics, but it’s his birthday, so I don’t want to force him to talk about it either. I’ve already told him if he wanted to talk I was there, but there’s no way I’ve earned that privilege yet. Understandably so.
I offer him a small smile. “Moving on to more fun topics, do you want to go to breakfast? My treat.”
“Will Carter, are you still trying to buy your way into this friendship?”
“Is it not still working?” I joke. “You know they say, a way to a man’s heart is through his—”
“Dick?” Porter interrupts before I can say stomach, and we both burst out laughing.
“I did not think you were going to go there,” I add through my laughter.
“Just wait, being my friend might be more than you bargained for. There’s still so much you have left to find out about me,” he challenges.
I’m not sure if he’s actually doubting my intent, but his comment doesn’t worry me. “I can promise you I’m really looking forward to it.”
Porter’s phone rings before we make any move to get up. “It’s my mom, I should probably answer or she’ll just keep calling.”
I nod. “Yeah, of course you should. Do you want me to go, or…?”
“Nah, it’ll only be a minute.” He answers the call with what I’m assuming is his best attempt at a cheery “hello” given his hungover state.
From my spot next to him I can clearly hear his mom’s response of “Happy birthday sweet boy! I hope you didn’t do anything too crazy last night to celebrate.”
“Thanks, Mom. Just went out with my friends, got some Taco Bell, nothing wild.”
“Well, I’m glad you have such good friends there,” she responds, and I wonder if he’s ever mentioned me.
My mom knows all my friends, and she knows all about how I’ve been trying to win Porter over after being such an asshole freshman year.
She’ll be very happy to know we toasted to our new friendship last night.
“Yeah, me too,” Porter agrees, and I don’t bother hiding my smile as he looks at me after saying it.
“Have you heard from Lewis yet? Did he say happy birthday?”
Porter groans. “No, Mom. And you don’t need to stress about that. It’s not a big deal. I doubt most eighteen-year-olds remember their older brother’s birthdays.”
“Well, you remember his, right? Is it so much to ask that my boys are nice to each other? One day I’ll be gone, and you two will be the only family the other has—”
“Oh my god, Mom!” he interrupts with an exhausted laugh. “Yes, I remember his birthday. I already told you I’ll visit that weekend.”
“Thank you, Sweetie. I’m so sorry I couldn’t get off work this weekend to come see you for your big day, but I’m so glad we’ll all be together again soon.”
“It’s really fine. My friend is actually here though, so I should probably let you go,” he says, and I would feel bad if I thought he wanted to talk to her for longer, but I’m fairly certain he was using that as an excuse.
She says “Happy Birthday” again and makes him promise to call before his next visit.
“Yeah, of course. Talk soon. Love you, too. Bye.”