Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
WELLS
It’s been a week since Kellan and I finally got on the same wavelength. Or, to be real, since I stopped acting like a complete jackass.
And not being a tool does have its merits, one of which are the smoothies that Kellan has started bringing me for our sessions. We’ll only meet once this week, since campus closes down tomorrow for Thanksgiving break.
I take a sip of the smoothie and squint. “Blueberry?”
Kellan gives me a satisfied smile. “Close. Mixed berry. Variety really is the spice of life.”
I put the cup down. “It’s good.” Truly, it is.
Radford clearly spares no expense on their athletes.
And shockingly, that idea doesn’t annoy me as much as it would have a few weeks ago.
I know that Kellan works hard, and I don’t want him to struggle for anything.
His life clearly isn’t easy, and if being well-fed is one thing he doesn’t have to worry about, then I’m all for it.
“So, you heading home tomorrow?” he asks at the same time he pulls out his econ textbook.
“I don’t know exactly where that is, I’m realizing.
” He gives me a sheepish smile, like it was rude of him not to ask instead of the fact that I’ve been less than forthcoming with details about myself.
Actually, I’m sure it’s been more like pulling teeth.
But the point is that I’m trying. At least that’s what I tell myself. “Not too far from here.” I only consider lying for a split second before adding, “Warwick.”
Kellan’s eyes go wide. “No shit. How has this not come up before?”
Oh, probably because I’ve done everything I can to stop it. But last week, I saw that Kellan was willing to walk away from me if I didn’t get my head out of my ass. And I make a lot of mistakes once, but I pride myself on not making them twice. “We haven’t exactly done a ton of bonding activities.”
He bites his lip. “I’d argue we’ve done a lot of bonding.”
“You know what I mean.” I’m trying to be chill, but him looking at me like that is putting all kinds of bad ideas in my head.
Because I do know exactly what he means.
We had a heart-to-heart right before we watched gay porn together and then he gave me the best head of my life.
If that doesn’t bond two people, I don’t know what does.
“I don’t remember you.”
His voice pulls me out of memories that are quickly making me need a cold shower, slapped with the reality of his statement. “I went to private school.” I only stumble over my words a little bit. And it’s not a lie. Not really.
Kellan gives me an appraising stare. My heart is hammering in my chest, wondering if this is the moment when reality crashes down on us. “Is that where they taught you to sit like you’re constipated?” He breaks out into a broad smile, white teeth gleaming.
My heart rate calms. I laugh and throw the crumpled up napkin that was wrapped around my cup at him. “I thought a dedicated athlete like yourself would ascribe a little more to the ‘your body is a temple’ philosophy. In my book, that includes posture. My mistake.”
Kellan lifts up his hoodie, flashing his abs playfully at me. “This temple? If I remember correctly, you seem to like it just fine.”
He’s killing me. I can’t seem to go more than five minutes in the same room with him without wanting to find a way to touch him. And he’s not doing anything to make it easier on me. But we’re on opposite sides of the desk, and he does actually have another econ exam coming up, right after break.
I put my hand out for the book, which he gives me, along with a little pout.
“What about you? Home with the family?” I ask, thumbing my fingers along the pages absently. I know that it’s just him, his mom, and his brothers, but not much more than that. The crazy thing though, is that I want to know more.
“I’ll just be spending Thursday with them. The apartment isn’t exactly set up with a guest room, and I have away games this weekend anyway. What about you?”
I stop fidgeting with the book. “I’ll go to dinner on Thursday with my parents and my brother. Not sure if I’ll stay over.” This time, it is a lie. There’s no way I’m spending any more time in that house than absolutely required.
“There’s another one like you? Lord have mercy.”
“Carter. You’d probably love him, actually. He’s playing hockey for Radford next year.” I don’t know why I’m telling him this. Maybe so he can really see how he’s thrown his lot in with the inadequate Wellington. It’s what everyone in my family already believes, anyway.
“Are you two close?” he asks, looking at me curiously. Like he already knows the answer.
“We don’t exactly have the same interests.” And he’s the perfect son, whereas I fall short at every possible measure.
Kellan points between us. “You could say the same thing about us, and we seem to be figuring it out.”
I lift an eyebrow. “I’d argue we have one extremely important point of commonality.”
He holds a hand up to his chest, affronted. “That’s not true. We also both like protein smoothies, too.”
I take another sip of my drink. “You’ve got me there.”
“Wells–”
Whatever he’s about to say, I don’t let him finish it.
“We need to get started on your econ prep.” Because now, all I can think about is that in less than forty-eight hours, I’ll be forced to spend the entire day with my shiny, happy, perfect brother along with my parents–who are so intent to keep up appearances that the world could be burning down around them and they’d only mention it’s a bit warm.
Instead of fighting me on it, he nods. “Well, for what it’s worth, I hope you have a good Thanksgiving.”
I’ve been at my parents house for the last two hours, and I’m already looking for something sharp to put me out of my misery. But I have to endure hours longer, so I can’t even enjoy the satisfaction of being right.
The Wellington family Thanksgiving, to put it in its simplest terms, isn’t a day spent with loved ones.
Not by a long shot. Every year, dozens of people are invited into the house, all to kiss ass with one another for a few hours and eat food prepared by a catering staff.
The guests are mostly business associates of my parents, who also believe networking is a more worthwhile way to spend a blustery November Thursday than enjoying time with their own families.
And even if they don’t want to be here, they wouldn’t miss a chance to kiss Bennett Wellington II’s ass, whose crowning achievement is not squandering the millions he inherited from my grandfather. Not a very impressive mogul, if you ask me.
It doesn’t matter that banks and businesses are closed, the machines that these people run are 24/7 endeavors, and they’re always looking to carve out just a little more power. A little more face time.
It’s always been like this, from the time I was born. I can’t remember a single holiday that didn’t include outside staff, guests dressed to the nines, and self-congratulatory speeches.
I’m on my third glass of champagne, wandering through the foyer and trying not to make eye contact with anyone. The home’s interior has been immaculately decorated for the event. Tasteful garnishes in reds and oranges and golds that pop against the austere white marble floor of the entry way.
I’d give anything to have somewhere to disappear, but for as much as my parents want me to blend into the background, they’d immediately clock if I was gone for more than five minutes and send a waiter to fetch me back.
I’m just as much a part of the decorations as the sconces on the wall.
The eldest son, Bennett Wellington III. Senior at Radford University and, probably in the eyes of most people here, heir apparent to the Wellington Enterprises throne. If only they knew.
Daddy’s never going to give me the keys to the castle, not that I want them. He’s young enough still that touting me making my own way will work until Carter is old enough to take over the company.
And they’re happy to pay for my lifestyle as long as I don’t flaunt my sexuality around. It’s a wonder something hasn’t gotten back to them yet, given that every year I push the envelope further.
“Man, I hate ties.” Carter’s snuck up next to me, and he’s pulling at his neck.
He’s still growing, putting on muscle. I swear he’s gained a few more pounds of it since I saw him a couple of weeks ago.
He sort of looks like a gorilla in a suit right now, and I’m shocked that my parents didn’t account for a new outfit for him.
He’s a few inches shorter than I am, just shy of six-feet.
Where I’m lean, he’s pure bulk. We have the same sandy hair, though he wears it a little longer in that youthful, shaggy look that all high schoolers seem to adopt at some point.
And best of all for my parents, he seems aggressively straight.
At least, he’s had a girlfriend for the last two years, who’s–luckily for her–not here today.
I look at the small groups of people mingling about. “Add it to the list of reasons to hate this hideous day.”
He gives me a surprisingly conspiratorial smile. “Right below the thirteen-piece place settings.”
My own lips tip into a grin. I’ve never known him to be especially funny. And we’ve definitely never had an ‘us-versus-them’ mentality when it comes to our parents. “Was that a joke?”
He pulls at his tie again. “You aren’t the only one who hates this dog and pony show. I can’t wait to be out of here next year.”
I scoff and gesture my champagne glass around. “Yes. To move thirty minutes away with Mom and Dad coming to every one of your home games. They’ll probably charter a jet to go to the away ones, too. They wouldn’t dare let the prodigal son stray too far.”
A beat passes, and I turn to look at him at the same time he says, “I didn’t ask for this, you know.”
The thing is, I don’t know my brother. Not really.
He’s four years younger than I am, and by the time he was twelve, I’d already been cast out of the fold.
All I’ve seen Carter as for the last half-decade is the son my parents wish that I had been.
The athlete. Charismatic and charming. Smart but follows instructions. And most importantly of all, straight.
Suddenly, I’m looking at him through new eyes.
It’s abundantly clear to me, as Kellan flashes through my mind, that my ability to see things differently has everything to do with the time we’ve been spending together.
“I know. Neither of us asked to be born Wellingtons, or to have to deal with what that entails.”
He meets my stare. “I know that you don’t like me. That you think I’m a kiss-ass.”
“You are a kiss-ass.” And even as I’m trying to keep things light, I can feel a lump forming in my throat. “But I don’t hate you. Honestly, I don’t really know you.”
He takes the almost empty champagne glass from me and downs the rest. I don’t try to stop him. “And whose fault is that?”
“I’d like to say our parents, but I can tell from your tone that you’d probably disagree.” My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I’m grateful for the excuse to get out of this conversation. “I’m gonna take this.”
My brother may not be the enemy, but I don’t know where we fall beyond that. I’m expecting it to be Reed, sending me a family photo of him and his dads, along with his siblings. Instead, it’s from Kellan.
My heart beats a little faster, and I hope my brother doesn’t notice the flush that creeps across my cheeks.
I remind myself that he’s with his family today, so it’s probably not a dick pick. Even though I wouldn’t mind that right about now, just to take my mind off of things. Still, I turn my body so that Carter can’t see the screen.
It’s a photo of him and his brothers, who are crawling on him like he’s a human jungle gym.
I can tell from the photo that he wasn’t kidding–his family’s apartment is small.
The three of them in the living room take up most of the space, and the carpet looks worn down in a lot of spots.
But still… they all look happy. Bright eyes and big smiles, with one of his brothers dangling from each of his flexing biceps.
This photo is a stark contrast to any picture my family has, which only exists because a professional photographer was hired and we were all immaculately dressed based on the season and the theme of the photo shoot.
I still can’t quite wrap my mind around our differences. In most ways, his life is so much harder than mine. I’d have to be an idiot not to see that and a complete ass if I was unwilling to admit it. But it also seems so much fuller.
I stare at the photo, a warmth settling in my bones. I scan the contours of Kellan’s broad smile. The way he looks so at ease. How simple he makes it all look, even though I know his life is far from easy.
And for the first time in a long time, I wonder if maybe a life like that could ever be a possibility for me.