Chapter 20 ExperimentExperience?
Experiment or Experience?
ETHAN
Icheck my phone for the third time in five minutes. Five texts from Tyler, each making my chest tighten with guilt.
Tyler
Morning Ethan. Miss you.
Tyler
Study session at the library later?
Tyler
Haven't seen you in days. Everything ok?
Tyler
Did I do something wrong?
Tyler
Just let me know you're alive at least.
The last one came twenty minutes ago. I should reply. I will reply as soon as I figure out what to say that isn't a lie but doesn't reveal how pathetic I'm being.
"Mr. Barrett, if you're finished with your phone, perhaps you could demonstrate the proper technique for changing a central IV line?"
Snapping to attention, I shove my phone into my pocket as Professor Kilkarney raises an eyebrow at me from the front of the skills lab. A few classmates snicker.
"Sorry. Yes, of course."
Walking to the front of the room, I force thoughts of Tyler out of my mind and focus on the task. This is why I've been picking up extra shifts and volunteering for every demonstration. When my hands are busy, my mind can't fixate on the disaster that was meeting Tyler's parents.
Five days. That's how long I've been avoiding him, making excuses about extra clinical hours and study groups that don't exist. Five days of hiding in the library until closing, of taking roundabout paths across campus to avoid the areas where I might run into him.
Five days of being a complete coward.
After demonstrating the I.V. change and fielding questions from my classmates, I gather my things and head for the door as soon as class ends. If I hurry, I can make it to the East Side Coffee Shop before Sylas shows up.
"Ethan! Wait up!"
Turning, I see Jessica, one of my nursing friends, hurrying after me.
"Hey, what's up?" Trying not to look as impatient as I feel.
"Just wanted to check if you're okay," she says, studying my face. "You seem... off this week. And you've volunteered for every extra shift available."
"I'm fine," my response is automatic. "Just trying to get the most clinical experience I can."
She gives me a skeptical look. "Right. And it has nothing to do with the hot frat guy who usually walks you to class but hasn't been around lately?"
Forcing a casual shrug is difficult, but I manage, barely. "We're both busy. It happens."
"Uh-huh." She doesn't look convinced. "Well, if you need to talk..."
"Thanks, but really, everything's fine." I check my watch. "Sorry, I've got to run. Meeting someone."
Before she can respond, I hurry out the door and across the quad.
The crisp December air bites at my cheeks, and I pull my scarf tighter around my neck.
The campus is beautiful this time of year, with the trees showing their last bursts of colour before winter strips them.
I would usually appreciate it, maybe even take a photo to send to Tyler, who's always noticing small, beautiful things that most people overlook.
The thought makes my chest ache again.
My bag feels unusually heavy as I walk. I reach in to check for my pathophysiology textbook and find it soaked, the pages warped and stained with what smells like coffee. Fantastic.
This is the third "accident" this week. First, my clinical notes were missing from my locker, then my scrubs were found with a torn sleeve, and now this. I don't need to guess who's responsible.
Ryan.
He's escalated from bitter looks in the hallway to actual sabotage. I should report him, but what would I say? I have no proof, and campus security has bigger concerns than petty personal vendettas.
Besides, the last thing I need is for Tyler to find out and confront Ryan. That would only make everything worse.
My phone buzzes again. This time it's Sylas.
Sylas
Where are you? I've been at Java House for 15
Crap. I'd lost track of time dealing with Jessica.
On my way. Order me the usual please
At least with Sylas, I don't have to pretend everything's fine, which is good because I'm running out of energy to keep up the facade.
"You look like shit," Sylas announces as I slide into the seat across from him.
"Hello to you, too," gratefully accepting the large coffee he pushes toward me.
"Don't 'hello' me when you've been ghosting everyone for days." He leans forward, studying my face. "What's going on? And don't say 'nothing' or I'll pour this coffee in your lap."
Sighing, I wrap my hands around the warm mug. "It's complicated."
"I've got time." He sits back, crossing his arms. "Is it the frat boy? Did he hurt you? Because I will castrate him if—"
"No," quickly interrupting before Sylas can get into full rant mode. "Tyler didn't do anything wrong."
"Then why do you look like you haven't slept in a week, and why are you avoiding him?"
Staring into my coffee, I try to organize my thoughts. "You remember I told you I was meeting his parents?"
"The dinner from hell, yeah. You texted me after, but were pretty vague about what happened."
"His dad was nice. His mom..." My voice trails off, remembering her thinly veiled hostility makes me tense up again. "Let's just say she made it very clear she disapproves of me. Or more specifically, of Tyler dating a man."
Sylas's expression softens. "I'm sorry. That sucks."
"It wasn't just that she was cold. She spent the entire dinner talking about the evil ex, Cher, how they were a perfect couple, and how they might get back together.
" Taking a sip of coffee, I wince at the bitter taste and reach for some sweetener.
"It was like I wasn't even there except as some kind of phase Tyler's going through. "
"And that's why you're avoiding him? Because his mom's a homophobe?"
"No." I pause, trying to put my growing fear into words. "It's because... what if she's right? What if I'm just a phase for him? He's never been with a guy before me. I don't know if he's ever thought about it until recently."
"Has he given you any reason to think he's not serious about you?"
"No, but—"
"Has he mentioned wanting to get back with his ex?"
"No, of course not."
Sylas raises an eyebrow. "Has he been anything but completely into you since you got together?"
I feel my cheeks warm. "No."
"So you're sabotaging things based on what his mother thinks, not what Tyler has shown you."
When he puts it like that, it does sound ridiculous. "It's not just his mom. It's... everything. His whole life has been straight until now. And I can't..." I swallow hard. "I can't be someone's experiment again. Not after Ryan."
Sylas's expression darkens at the mention of my ex. "Tyler is nothing like Mr. Micro-Lane."
"I know that." A nervous laugh comes up from my chest. "Rationally, I know that. But then I start thinking about how easy it would be for him to go back to dating women. No judgment from his family, no awkward public moments, no explanations needed."
"You're catastrophizing."
"Am I? Or am I just being realistic?" Pulling out my ruined textbook, I drop it on the table. "And then there's this."
Sylas frowns. "What happened?"
"Ryan happened. This is the third thing he's damaged this week."
"What? Ethan, you need to report him."
"With what proof? I never see him do it." The book slams into my bag harder than necessary. "And before you ask, no, I haven't told Tyler. He'd just confront Ryan and make everything worse."
"So let me get this straight," Sylas says slowly. "You're dealing with harassment from your apparently psycho ex, stress about Tyler's homophobic mother, and instead of leaning on your boyfriend for support, you're pushing him away because you're afraid he might leave you someday?"
When he puts it like that... "I'm protecting myself."
"You're sabotaging yourself," Sylas corrects. "Tyler makes you happy. Anyone with eyes can see that. And from what you've told me, you make him happy too."
"For now."
"Jesus, Ethan." Sylas runs a hand through his dark hair in frustration. "Since when did you become such a defeatist? The Ethan Barrett I know doesn't hide from things he's afraid of."
His words sting because they're true. I have been hiding from Tyler, my feelings, and the possibility of getting hurt.
"I should text him back at least.”
"That would be a start," Sylas agrees, finishing his coffee as I pull out my phone. "And maybe consider that running away from something good because you're scared it won't last forever, is a pretty guaranteed way to make sure it doesn't."
Knowing he's right, I start to type a response to Tyler when my phone buzzes with a notification. My clinical schedule has been changed; I'm now assigned to the geriatric ward instead of pediatrics for tomorrow's shift.
"Unbelievable," The phone gets shoved toward Sylas, showing the notification."I specifically requested pediatrics this rotation."
"It is the too-short dipstick again?"
"Has to be. He must have access to the schedule somehow." My phone gets shoved back into my bag as my mood darkens further. "I should get going. I need to review different protocols now before tomorrow."
Sylas gives me a look that says he knows I'm using this as an excuse, but he doesn't call me on it. "Fine. But promise me you'll talk to Tyler. Actually talk, not just text."
"I will," Though whether that's actually true remains unsure.
After leaving Sylas, I cut through the humanities building to get to the medical library. The hallways are mostly empty this late in the afternoon, with only a few students lingering outside classroom doors.
As I check my phone, finally composing a text to Tyler, when a voice stops me cold.
"Well, if it isn't Tyler's little friend."
Looking up, I see Cher standing by the water fountain, her blonde hair falling in perfect waves around her shoulders. She's wearing an expensive-looking red sweater, and her smile doesn't reach her eyes.
"Hi, Cher," my voice tries to stay neutral as the words come out, "I'm actually in a hurry, so…"
"Oh, I'm sure you can spare a minute," she says, stepping closer. "I've been hoping to run into you. Alone."