Chapter 22 Brothers in Arms
Brothers in Arms
TYLER
"Do you want this to be over?" The question hangs between us, heavy and final.
Ethan's face crumples, the conflict visible in his eyes. He opens his mouth, closes it, then looks down at our hands, still loosely connected.
"No," he finally whispers. "I don't want it to be over."
Relief floods through me, so intense I almost feel light-headed. "Okay. Good. That's... good."
"I care about you, Tyler. A lot." He looks up, his eyes searching mine. "I'm just in my head about everything. The dinner with your parents, Cher, all of it."
"We can work through that," Fingers squeeze his hand reassuringly. "Together."
Ethan nods, but there's still tension in his shoulders, something guarded in his expression. "I need to figure some things out. I'm sorry for avoiding you. That wasn't fair."
"It's okay." It's not, but I don't want to push him when he's finally talking to me again.
"It's not," he contradicts, echoing my thoughts. "I just... I got scared."
"Of what, exactly?" I ask, trying to understand. There's something he's not telling me, something beyond my mother's coldness or Cher's interference. "Ethan, what else is going on?"
He shakes his head. "Nothing important."
"It's important if it's making you pull away from me."
"I'm dealing with it," he says firmly, taking a step back. "I should go. I have an early clinical tomorrow."
I want to argue, to make him stay and talk this through properly, but I'm afraid of pushing too hard. We've barely patched things up; I can't risk breaking them again.
"Text me when you're done?" my eyes are close to begging.
"I will." He hesitates, then steps forward to press a quick kiss to my cheek. "I'm sorry for being difficult."
"You're not difficult," I say automatically. "But I wish you'd trust me with whatever's bothering you."
A shadow crosses his face. "I do trust you. It's just... complicated."
Watching him leave, I feel like we've fixed something and broken something else simultaneously. We're together, but not. Talking, but not communicating. It's limbo, and I have no idea how to get us out of it.
Three days later, I'm sitting on my bed, textbooks spread around me, unable to focus on a single word. My phone sits silent beside me, mocking me with its lack of notifications.
Ethan and I have been texting, but it's all been superficial. How's your day? What are you studying? Did you watch the new episode of that show we like? Nothing real, nothing that addresses the tension left unresolved between us. We haven't seen each other since that night in the study room.
The door bursts open, and Gavin fills the frame, a protein shake in one hand.
"You look like shit," he announces cheerfully.
"Thanks. I feel like shit too."
"Things still weird with Ethan?" He drops into my desk chair, spinning it to face me.
"We're in some kind of relationship purgatory." I toss my highlighter down in frustration. "We're together, technically, but he keeps finding reasons not to actually see me."
"Have you asked him why?"
"Of course I've asked. He says he's busy, tired, or behind on coursework." I run a hand through my hair. "And maybe he is, but it feels like excuses."
My phone buzzes as if summoned by our conversation. Grabbing it, hope flares until I read the message.
Ethan
Sorry, can't make it tonight. Fell behind this week and need to catch up on studying. Rain check? -E
"Fuck," I mutter, dropping the phone.
"That him?" Gavin asks.
"Yeah. Canceling. Again." Falling back on my bed, I stare at the ceiling. "This is what a slow breakup feels like, isn't it? The gradual fade until we're just friends who occasionally text."
Gavin is quiet for a moment, then stands up decisively. "Nope. Not happening. Put on something that doesn't smell like self-pity. We're going downstairs."
"I'm not in the mood to socialize."
"Didn't ask if you were in the mood." He yanks my comforter off, nearly sending my textbooks to the floor. "Come on. Brotherhood emergency meeting."
"What are you talking about?"
"You'll see." He heads for the door. "Five minutes. Don't make me come back and carry you downstairs, too."
The reminder of how he carried Ethan across campus makes me smile. "Fine. Five minutes."
When I come downstairs, I find several frat brothers gathered in the living room. Drew, James, Cameron, Ian, and Marcos are there. They're arranged in a rough circle, beer and chips already distributed.
"What's this?" My feet stop at the bottom of the stairs.
"Intervention," Drew says, raising his beer. "Or support group. We haven't decided yet."
"For what?"
"Your sad puppy routine," Cam replies. "It's bringing down the house vibe."
"I don't have a sad puppy routine," The protest comes out maybe a bit too quickly.
"Dude, you sighed so loudly during study hours yesterday that three guys asked if you were having an asthma attack," Marcos points out.
Dropping onto the couch, I'm embarrassed but also touched that they noticed. "It's that obvious?"
"You've been walking around like someone stole your PlayStation and your firstborn," Ian confirms, passing me a beer. "So we're here to help."
"How exactly are you going to help?" The beer tab pops open with a satisfying hiss.
"No idea," Drew admits cheerfully. "None of us has ever dated a dude before. But we've all had relationship problems, so maybe some of the same principles apply?"
"We're going to fix your love life if we have to burn this whole place down to do it," Gavin declares, settling his bulk on the floor by the coffee table.
Something between a snort and a laugh slips out. "I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I don't think arson is the answer."
"Start by telling us exactly what happened," James suggests. "The full story."
Taking a swig of beer, I then lay it all out: the dinner with my parents, Ethan pulling away, Cher's ambush, Gavin's kidnapping rescue, and the strange, unresolved conversation that left us in limbo.
"Sounds like he's scared," Cam observes when I finish. "Fair enough, since your mom basically told him he was temporary."
"She didn't say that," my protest is weak to my ears.
"Dude, she brought up your ex-girlfriend repeatedly during dinner with your current boyfriend," Marcos points out. "That's pretty clear messaging."
"And then Cher reinforced it," James adds. "Double whammy."
Drew leans forward. "Have you told him how you really feel? Like, explicitly?"
"I told him this isn't an experiment for me."
"That's not the same as telling him how you feel," Drew says. "Sometimes you have to spell it out."
"What, like say I love him?" The words slip out before I can consider them, and I freeze, realizing what I've just implied.
The guys exchange glances.
"Do you?" Gavin asks carefully. "Love him?"
I stare at my beer can, turning it around in my hands. "I don't know. Maybe? It's too soon, right?"
"Time is arbitrary," James says with a shrug. "Some people know in a week. Some take years."
"It's not about the calendar," Cameron agrees. "It's about how you feel when you're with him, when you're not with him, when you think about the future."
Thinking about this, I try to make sense of all the mixed feelings I get whenever Ethan's around. "When I'm with him, I feel... right. Like everything makes sense. And when we're apart, especially now, it's like something's missing." I take another drink. "Is that love? Or just infatuation?"
"Does it matter what you call it?" Drew asks. "The point is, you care about him, and he doesn't seem to know how much."
"I've told him I care about him."
"But have you told him you can't stop thinking about him?" Ian suggests. "That you feel empty when he's not around? That you want to build a future that includes him?"
"Whoa, slow down," A nervous laugh escapes. "We've only been dating for a little while."
"Yeah, but if you're sure this isn't just some phase," Marcos says, "then he needs to know that."
"I think you should write him a poem," Ian declares. "Women love that shit."
"He's not a woman," slips out quickly.
Ian waves dismissively. "Everyone loves poems. It's romantic as fuck."
"No poems," Cam tells him. "Based on the creative writing class we took together freshman year, your poetry would scare him off for good."
"Hey, Dr. Zimmer said I had 'bold imagery,'" Ian protests.
"She was being nice about your explicit descriptions of—"
"Okay!" Drew interrupts. "No poems. But maybe a gesture? Something to show him you're serious."
The suggestions start flying:
"Take him to a fancy restaurant."
"Give him a key to your room."
"Tell his ex-boyfriend to fuck off."
"Get matching tattoos."
"Write a song."
"Build him something with your engineering skills."
Each suggestion gets progressively more out there, and I crack up, which beats the hell out of the doom spiral I've been in all day. These guys are complete idiots, but they're my idiots, and knowing they've got my back makes the whole situation feel less terrifying.
"Wait, wait," Gavin says suddenly, holding up his hand. "We're thinking about this all wrong. We don't know what will work for Ethan because none of us knows him well." He pulls out his phone. "But I know who does."
"Who?"
"His best friend. The scary one who looks at us like we're going to roofie his drink." Gavin scrolls through his contacts. "I got his number at the carwash last month."
"You want to call Sylas?" Disbelief colors every word. "He hates frat guys. And me in particular, I'm pretty sure."
"He doesn't hate you," Gavin argues. "He's just protective of Ethan." Before I can stop him, he hits call and puts the phone on speaker.
After three rings, a suspicious voice answers. "Who is this?"
"Sylas! It's Gavin Robins, from Delta Psi Omega."
A pause. "Why do you have my number, and why are you calling me at 9 PM on a Thursday?"
"Emergency fraternity business," Gavin says solemnly.
"I'm not in your frat," Sylas replies dryly.
"It's about Tyler and Ethan," Gavin clarifies. "We need your expertise."
Another pause. "Is Ethan okay?"
"He's fine," The words come out quickly as I lean towards the phone. "This is Tyler."
"Oh." Sylas's tone cools noticeably. "What do you want?"
"Your advice," I say honestly. "Ethan's pulling away, and I don't know how to fix it."
"Maybe there's nothing to fix," Sylas suggests. "Maybe he realized—"
"It's not that," Gavin interrupts. "He wants to be with Tyler. He said so. But he's scared, and something else is going on that he won't talk about."
I raise my eyebrows at Gavin, surprised by his insight.
"What makes you think I know what's going on?" Sylas asks, but a shift in his tone suggests he does.
"Because you're his best friend," I say. "And I'm worried about him. Not just because of us, but because he seems... off. Even when we text, it's like he's only half there."
A long silence follows. I can almost hear Sylas weighing his loyalty to Ethan against his concern for him.
"I'm on speaker," he finally says. "Who else is there?"
"Just some frat brothers," Drew replies. "We're trying to help Tyler figure this out."
"A frat-boy relationship council," Sylas says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Fascinating."
"Look," I'm growing impatient, but I try to bite it back, "if you don't want to help, just say so."
"I didn't say that." Sylas sighs. "It's not my place to tell you what's going on with Ethan. That's for him to share if he wants to."
"But something is going on?"
"Yes." His reluctant admission confirms my suspicions. "But it's not what you think. It's not about your mother or Cher, though they didn't help."
"Then what is it? How can I help him if I don't know what's wrong?"
"That's the problem, isn't it?" Sylas suddenly sounds tired. "Ethan doesn't want you to 'help.' He wants to handle it himself."
"Handle what?"
"Ask him," Sylas says firmly. "And don't let him off the hook when he says it's nothing. Make him talk to you."
"I've tried that."
"Try harder." His voice softens slightly. "Look, for what it's worth, he does care about you. A lot. I haven't seen him this hung up on someone in... well, ever."
The admission surprises me, and a flicker of hope ignites in my chest.
"But," Sylas continues, "he's also stubborn and has this thing about not being a burden. So if you want this to work, you need to convince him that his problems aren't a burden to you."
"They're not," Words shoot out without hesitation.
"I know that. You know that. Ethan... needs convincing." There's a rustling sound on Sylas's end. "I have to go. I've already said more than I should have."
"Wait," Gavin interjects. "One more question. Do you think they can work this out?"
Another pause. "Yes," Sylas says finally. "I do. But it will take more than grand gestures or pretty words." He hesitates, then adds, "Be patient with him, Tyler. He's worth it."
The call ends, leaving us all staring at Gavin's phone.
"Well, that was surprisingly helpful," Drew observes.
"And he didn't even threaten to kill you," Cam adds cheerfully. "Progress!"