Chapter Ten Colin
Chapter Ten
Colin
Declan and I are both silent when we reach the residence hall, but it’s a tense, spiteful silence. He slams doors, and I throw pillows, but neither of us says a word to the other.
I’m not even sure why I’m cross with him. He did get me out of a bad situation, but maybe I’m mad that I was in it in the first place.
Maybe I’m mad that my one chance of actually being with someone turned out to be a nightmare.
Maybe I’m mad that everything is so fucking easy for Declan. He has no idea what it’s like. He’s handsome, charming, funny. Women flock to him. He hardly has to do anything. He doesn’t have to worry about coming out or being bullied or threatened at all because of who he’s attracted to.
He’s naturally dominant. He doesn’t ever have to worry that somebody is going to take advantage of him if he’s too vulnerable.
After we’ve both crashed into our respective beds and turned out the lights, it’s obvious neither of us is going to sleep. We both toss and turn, and I wonder if he’s spiraling in his head as much as I am, fuming over these facts without doing anything to actually resolve them.
After nearly an hour of this, I’m dying to speak to him, but I don’t know what to say. I’m too stubborn to apologize. I’m too proud to admit that I got myself into that situation, too arrogant to thank him for helping me.
This isn’t how I want the end of our term to be.
It’s more than the end of the term. It’s the end of our entire university life.
After this week, he’s going back to Scotland, and I’m going to London.
And other than some weak promises to see each other every summer, Declan and I will no longer live together and will no longer see each other. This is it.
“Declan,” I mutter darkly in the silent room.
“What?” he replies.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur. It’s a lame apology, but I need to do something.
“Sorry for what, Shelby?” he asks.
“For…” My voice trails as I mull over my response. “For not thanking you for helping me.”
Declan sits up on his bed, leaning on his elbow, and even through the darkness, I can feel him scrutinizing me. “You think that’s why I’m mad?” he asks. “Because you didn’t fucking thank me?”
“I…guess so,” I stammer with uncertainty.
“Jesus, Shelby, you think that’s why I’m fucking mad? No, I’m fucking mad because you put yourself in these situations, and you let these arseholes walk all over you.”
I want to clarify that there have not been arseholes, because there’s never been an opportunity other than this once. Niall was the first man I had the prospect of actually being able to sleep with, but I don’t say that out loud.
“I’m mad because you never fucking stand up for yourself.
You’re my best goddamn mate, but I’m not going to be around to punch the idiots in alleyways for you.
You should have shoved his arse across that alley and pummeled his face like I did.
You should have grabbed his cock and balls and ripped them clean off his body if he threatened to bring them near you again.
But you didn’t, Colin. You’re too fucking passive. ”
I sit up in bed and stare at him in anger. “You think I want to be this way?” I ask. “You think I just want to do everything everybody tells me to all the time? You think I like this?”
“I don’t know,” he argues.
“And this is real rich coming from you, Declan,” I argue. “You’re the one who’s been bossing me around for four years. I follow you everywhere.”
“Because you can trust me,” he says as he taps his chest. “That’s the fucking difference, Shelby. We make a good team because I will always take the lead with you, but I will never let you get hurt.”
My mouth hangs open as I let his words sink in.
“But I can’t live like this, Declan,” I say.
“I can’t be a virgin for the rest of my life.
I can’t hide behind you. I can’t let you take care of me.
At some point, I want a relationship. I want to have sex.
I want to do all the things you do. Or other men do.
And yeah, someday I’m probably going to lose my virginity to some bastard who takes advantage of me, and that’s just going to be the way it is.
But oh fucking well, maybe I’ll take advantage of him too. ”
“No one’s going to be taking advantage of you,” he argues. “You can’t accept anything but the best because that’s what you bloody deserve. You understand me?” he says.
A smile tugs at my lip as I realize that we’re fighting about how much he cares about me.
“I’m sorry you didn’t get to shag anyone tonight,” I say softly across the dark room.
“Och,” he murmurs. “I don’t care about that. I just got worried when I didn’t see you in the pub anymore. I was afraid you took off with that guy. I didn’t know him, but I didn’t trust him. And as it turns out, my intuition was right.”
Suddenly, the memory of everything with Niall comes flooding back. Was he too persistent? Should I have seen the signs sooner? How on earth am I going to do this if I don’t even know how to choose the right men?
“What’s wrong with me, Declan?” I ask softly, like a whisper through the night.
Declan doesn’t move for a second. He just stares at me. “There ain’t a fucking thing wrong with you, understand me?” he asks. “You’ll meet a good guy eventually. I know it. And he’ll look out for you.”
“As much as you do?” I ask.
“Nobody’s going to fucking look out for you as much as I do,” he replies. And I laugh.
“What kind of loser graduates from uni as a virgin?” I ask.
“You haven’t graduated yet,” he replies. “There’s still time.”
This makes me crack up. “We graduate in four days, Declan. I highly doubt I’m going to meet a good person and have sex in four days.”
He reclines onto his bed, his hands folded behind his head as he smiles at the ceiling. “Fine, you stubborn fool. I’ll make sweet, sweet love to you so you don’t graduate a virgin. Is that what you want?”
My heart pitter-patters wildly in my chest as I stare at him. That is exactly what I want. But I can’t say it. He’s teasing me, making a joke. But it’s not funny because it’s true, and he has no idea.
As much as I wish that offer was real, I know it never, ever will be, because sleeping with someone like Declan would be perfect. Someone I trust. Someone who puts me first. Someone who genuinely cares about me. Who knows me.
In short, too good to be true.
When I don’t respond or crack a smile, Declan turns toward me.
And his smile drifts slowly off of his face.
For a moment, we just stare at each other.
It’s loaded silence. The only sound in the room is the tick-tock of the clock on the wall and the steady cadence of our breaths.
I let it get this way when I should have just laughed at his joke. But I couldn’t.
And now, he knows that’s what I truly want. He knows my secret.
Quickly, I force a chuckle. “Yeah, right,” I say. “Thanks for offering.” But even my voice sounds stale and uncomfortable. Like I’m not really laughing. And I’m not really cracking a joke.
He’s still staring at me. The expression on his face says he’s just learned something monumental.
Before he can say anything, I lie down on the bed and turn away from him. The last thing I want is Declan’s pity, not when he knows what a pathetic, lovesick loser I am.
* * *
The next day is spent sleeping off a hangover and packing. My mother calls sometime around eleven, and I answer the phone as I’m walking through the hall toward the courtyard between the buildings.
“Hello,” I say.
“Oh, darling, I just went and toured your flat down in London, and it is exquisite,” she says excitedly.
With a grimace, I force a smile even though she can’t see me. “That’s great, Mum. Thank you,” I reply.
“You’re going to absolutely love it. And it’s only a quick five-minute walk from home. So you can visit your father and me as much as you want.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“Oh, my love, I’m so excited to have you living back home,” she croons.
“Yeah, me too,” I say stiffly.
“Rebecca Park with the Cambridge Theatre called yesterday afternoon. Of course, you know your father works with her eldest son.”
“Yeah, Mum, I remember.”
“Well, she said that there is an open position in their spring performance, and she would love to see you audition once you get back home. And your father has already agreed to make a hefty donation to their arts fund. So I think we’ve got this one in the bag.”
Staring down at the cobblestone ground, I grimace to myself. “You don’t have to do that, Mum. Really.”
“Oh, Colin, don’t be so humble. This is how the world works, darling.
Do you think every part and every position in the world has been cast based on merit alone?
You have all of the tools to succeed, Colin.
And we are going to make sure that you do.
Your father and I want nothing more than to see you achieve all of your dreams.”
Yes, but I want to actually achieve them.
“I know,” I reply. “And I appreciate you.”
“I know you do, my love. Oh, I cannot wait to see you this weekend.”
“Me too,” I reply.
“And I’m sorry your father has to be out of town,” she adds with regret in her tone.
I wish there was a part of me that felt a hint of disappointment at this news.
But it’s as if all of the emotions regarding my father have already dried up.
Every moment of his time spent with his other family no longer burns the way it used to.
And that’s sad. Because it means a part of me has died.
My mother and I are left with awkward conversation where we don’t bring up topics like the fact that he has another wife and two other children, one of whom I believe is graduating from primary school this weekend, hence why he won’t be available to come to my university graduation.
They are the upgrade, after all. When it comes to families, we are last year’s model—no longer new or valuable to him.
“All right, Mum, I really have to get back to packing,” I say, desperate to escape this conversation.
“Yes, dear, I understand. I love you, and I will see you in just a few days.”
“Love you too, Mum.”
After the call ends, I turn around to find Declan standing against the wall, cigarette hanging from his fingers.
“Why the long face, Shakespeare?”
I let out a sigh as I shove my hands into my pockets. “I don’t know. I don’t want this to end, I think.”
“Hey, we could always fail all of our exams and do another year if you want,” he says, making me smile.
“No. We’ve got to move on. We’ve got to grow up,” I say.
“Do we have to though?” he asks.
Declan’s plans after uni are essentially to continue painting and making art.
And he has that privilege. His family is incredibly wealthy.
His parents left him a hefty inheritance.
And he technically doesn’t need to work another day in his life, which is great for an artist, but I can tell it is incredibly unfulfilling for Declan.
He’s like me. He wants the blood, sweat, and tears that come with any struggle in life.
He’s tired of being handed things and denied the opportunity to have to actually try for anything.
We are both missing the grit and labor that comes with a normal life.
And I know it’s pretentious of me to complain about being so wealthy, but no one else on earth will know how this feels except for him.
“My mother has promised me that she’ll get me a role in some play in the West End,” I say.
Declan’s eyebrows shoot upward as he stares at me. “Wow, your mother really does love you,” he says, making an obscene gesture.
“I meant with money,” I reply, slugging him on the shoulder. “I meant they’ll make a big donation and pull some strings because somebody knows somebody, and I’ll get the part, and not because I’m a good actor. It doesn’t seem fair.”
“It’s not fair,” he replies, “but nothing ever is.”
Isn’t that the truth? I think to myself. Like being hopelessly in love with my best friend for four years with absolutely no chance of him ever loving me back. There’s certainly nothing fair about that.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, I remember our conversation last night and the final words Declan said to me before we fell asleep.
His little joke of an offer to sleep with me so I don’t graduate a virgin.
Deep down, I know I should be a little offended by this.
Being treated like a pity fuck. Acting like just because he’s a man, I would want to sleep with him at all.
Of course, I really do want to sleep with him, but he doesn’t know that.
I lay awake last night, wondering and replaying scenarios in my head.
Like, what if that offer was real? What if I did take it?
What would that be like? Would he enjoy it?
Would he hate it? Would he do it just because he cares about me?
But what if he did? What if it was incredible? The best sex of my life? Setting the bar so high that no one could ever possibly even dream of reaching it?
What if it made me love him even more? What if it made this goodbye impossible? Would it be worth it?
One passion-filled, filthy, amazing, incredible night. Would it be worth a hundred years of heartache?
Yes. One thousand percent, yes.