8. Chapter Eight
16 years old…
I stare up at the ceiling, taking slow breaths. Hold it in. Let it out. It’s taking everything in me to not destroy this bedroom, and the only thing stopping me is the fact it isn’t mine. Not really.
My father and I had another fight. He’s the only person in the world who can make me as angry as I am right now. I swear I could put my fist through a concrete wall with the amount of rage and adrenaline coursing through me.
The door opening pulls my attention and Cole pops his head in. I sit up on the bed, throwing my legs over the side to sit and face him.
“Sorry, didn’t know you were here,” he says.
A ton of anger disappears, turning into… something I can’t name.
“I can go if you want me to,” I mutter.
“Don’t be silly, Bryson. You know you’re always welcome here.” He pauses a moment, then steps into the room. “Everything okay?”
I shake my head. “Dad is being a dick again.”
He nods. I appreciate that he never tells me not to swear or talk badly about my father. I like that I can come here and be myself. That I can vent and not be judged over what comes out of my mouth. I can speak my mind. It’s a safe space for me.
“You know Chris is with his mom, right?” he asks carefully.
“Yeah, he told me.”
“Well, I’m working all weekend, but you know the drill. Clean up after yourself, and I’ve got no issue with you being here.”
I look up and see him smiling at me.
“Thanks, Mr. Harper.”
He flinches. “It’s Cole, Bryson. Mr. Harper was my grandfather.”
I chuckle. “Thanks, Cole.”
He leaves the room, closing the door gently behind him.
Present day…
The sun shines through the windows, burning against my face and waking me up. I wipe the drool from my mouth and lift my head to look around. It takes a moment to remember where I am—Chris’s. I rub my eyes, sucking in a sharp breath and getting to my feet. A glance at the clock tells me it’s almost ten. Not surprised by that, considering I finally had a quiet night. Didn’t have to deal with my father fucking someone who sounds like she’s auditioning for the role of over-the-top porn star. I stretch, bending my back backwards to get it to crack a few times. I pull my shirt off and toss it in the corner and move to my suitcase to grab another. I’ll shower later. For now, I just need fresh clothes so I can get some food into me. I’m starving.
“Oh, hey. Glad you’re up.” I glance over my shoulder and find Cole in the doorway, hands on the frame and leaning in. I was so tired I didn’t even shut the door. And him getting home didn’t disturb me. Chris either, now that I think about it. I grab the first shirt I spot, stand and turn toward him. His eyes dip to my waist for a split second before going back to my face.
Did he just—no.
No. He didn’t. He wouldn’t.
“Hey,” I say, shaking out the shirt and putting it on.
“Sleep well?”
“I did, actually. Staying with my father over the last few months did nothing to help me with the time change.”
“There’s breakfast downstairs,” he says. “Chris went out to meet his mom, but he should be back soon.” I’m surprised he didn’t wake me when he got home last night.
“How is Tabitha?”
Cole gives me a smirk. “Wouldn’t know. Now that Chris is old enough to make his own damn decisions, I don’t need to talk to her crazy ass anymore.”
I huff a laugh, brushing my fingers through my hair. I bet it’s a wild mess.
“They’re all crazy, aren’t they?” I ask, moving toward the door. Cole steps aside so I can move into the hallway.
“Why do you think I’m still single?” he questions.
Good to know.
“Glad I realized I was gay before I figured it out firsthand. Though,” I say, pausing for a second. “Men aren’t any better.”
“Is that so?” His eyes shine with humor.
“Yeah. I’ve got about twenty texts from my ex I’ve yet to go through because I don’t want to deal with it.”
He frowns, which throws me off, but I ignore it. “Food is in the oven, but if you don’t want it, make something else. I’ll be in my office catching up on invoices and shit. It’s supposed to be nice today, if you wanna go for a swim.”
“No bathing suit,” I comment as we head down the stairs.
“Didn’t stop you and Chris when you were teenagers.”
I laugh, remembering the time we had a party at the house and tried to get everyone to go skinny dipping. We were like fourteen. The only ones who made it in were the guys. Every girl left, and that’s when Cole showed up. Of course, he had a lot of questions about that. I hadn’t told anyone I was gay at that point, and I’m not sure I even knew it myself yet. Or maybe I did, but I was too afraid to accept it because I knew my father wouldn’t. I remember wondering why the other boys were so upset that there were no girls in the pool, but I wasn’t exactly excited to see a bunch of guys naked either. I was fourteen. Who the hell knows what was going through my head.
“I’m a big boy now, Cole. I don’t do that stupid shit anymore.”
He smirks. “But life is so much more fun when you’re bigger.”
Those words have my mind rocketing back to that night with him in Astoria, and I’m frozen still.
Cole disappears into his office, and I have to force my feet to move in the opposite direction toward the kitchen while I convince myself he isn’t flirting with me. Crossing that line with Cole—again—could ruin everything for me. It’s bad enough we did it once, but at least we can ignore it. Just one night. That’s easy to forget. At least, it should be. I have to keep reminding myself I’d have nowhere to go, my best friend would hate me, and I’d lose the closest person I have to a father-figure.
Nope. Cole Harper is off limits, and the sooner I get that through my head, the better.
“Fucking finally!” Chris shouts when he comes through the front door. I grin and get up from the couch. He throws his arms around me, giving me the biggest hug. I let out a wheeze as he squeezes all the air out of me. “Fuck, I missed you, bro,” he says.
I ignore the guilt clawing at my chest and say, “I missed you too.”
The last time I saw him was over Christmas break when he came to visit me the first year I left. So it’s been like four years. We said we would visit each other more often, but I’d developed a fear of flying once I landed in Providence, which was the weirdest thing. I’d been on planes plenty of times with my parents over the years, but for some reason, I developed a fear when I turned eighteen. Or maybe it was my conscience telling me to stay in Providence, because coming back to the west coast would only cause problems. Yeah, that was definitely it. Too bad I didn’t listen.
“Your ass passed out on me last night!” He pulls back, smirking at me. He looks so much like his father, yet… I don’t get that same feeling toward him that I do Cole.
Interesting. Also relieving. The last thing I need to do is crush on my best friend and his dad. Cole being gay, or at least bi, was enough of a shock. But Chris? He’s as straight as they come. I’m grateful I can look at him and feel brotherly love. Nothing more. I can’t go around fucking up every relationship I have. I mean, I could. It’s a typical Bryson thing to do, but I won’t.
Chris is as tall as his father, with the same dark hair. But where Cole’s is straight, Chris’s is curly like his mother’s. His eyes aren’t as crystal blue as his father’s, they’re dark blue—also like his mother’s. His build is similar, but he isn’t as muscular because he doesn’t do hard labor or work out, but if he did, he could pass as Cole’s brother.
Chris has always been my best friend. Ever since the first day of kindergarten when we were seated at the same table, and he offered to share his cheese puffs with me. Something connected us together, something more than a shared love over cheesy chips, and we were never apart after that.
My parents wanted me on the baseball team, Chris joined with me to make it tolerable. When my parents realized how bad I was at baseball, they tried football. Again, Chris was there to make it fun. But it was just another sport I wasn’t into. So next was soccer. Sucked at that too. I think my parents got sick of seeing how much of a failure their son was, so they stopped pushing sports after that. Though, I say parents, I mean my father. My mother never had much of a say in anything either. What Bart Montgomery wanted, he got.
There are two things I remember about my mother. First, her smile. She had a smile that lit up the room. Second, the way she barely said a word in my father’s presence. She was two different people, and I only wish she were here today so we could have each other. If only she’d held out just a few more years, I could have helped her. I would have done anything in my power to convince her to leave him. We’d have had a good life, just the two of us.
But she couldn’t handle it, and that hurts me in ways I can’t begin to express.
The fact that it was Chris and Cole there for me after she died says so many things about them and my father.
Which only makes the guilt over what I did with Cole tenfold. How could I have betrayed my best friend so easily when he’d been there for me through every hard time in my life, including this one?
I’m so fucked up.
Chris has supported me every chance he could, which is why he was the first person I came out to. And his response was exactly as I expected it to be. Complete acceptance and a stupid joke. I better not wake up to my dick in your mouth. It’s so him. It means a lot to me that Chris has always been there for me, especially since my parents weren’t.
It means even more that Cole allowed it, considering it was a struggle for him at times. My family is well-off. Both of them come from old money. Growing up, I wanted for nothing. Well, nothing physical anyway. I always had the most expensive things. Clothing, game consoles, laptop, cars. You name it, I had it—top notch. Cole, on the other hand, wasn’t poor, but he struggled after the divorce with Tabitha. Mostly because Chris preferred to stay with his dad, even though Cole paid Tabitha child support. The court ordered Chris to stay with her, but he was old enough to decide and the less Tabitha had to do, the better. I’m sure there was more to it than just that, but as a child, that wasn’t our concern.
No matter how much Cole struggled, he always made sure Chris got what he wanted. And he never told me no either. Not once. He’s always supported us in doing whatever it is we want to do, no matter what.
“I was so fucking tired, I don’t even remember falling asleep.” I move back to the couch and drop onto it. Chris sits beside me.
“We’re still going out tonight, right?” he asks.
“Hell yeah we are.”
“Good. Because Mila, Mark, and Onyx are stoked.”
“I can’t wait to see them.”
And I can’t. I’ve missed them too. The five of us were close for years, and I was the only one who moved away for college.
“They’ve been talking about you non-stop.”
I love that they have, but why haven’t they texted me? It’s a shitty thing to think since I haven’t texted them either, but I’ve been dealing with a lot. When I first left for Rhode Island, we kept in touch. But before I knew it, the only two people I was talking to from here were Chris and Mila. Second year into college, and that dwindled to just Chris.
“So, what’s been going on here? How’s the job?” I ask.
“It’s so fucking good. I feel like a kid in a toy store every morning I go in there. The commute sucks. Forty-five minutes each way, thanks to the fucking traffic, but other than that, it’s like a dream come true. What about you?”
I shake my head, holding my arms out. “Haven’t found anything yet.”
“Did you start looking like you said you were going to?”
“Figured I’d wait till I got here. You know, talk to people in person.”
He nods carefully, and I try not to read into his expression too much, because I swear it’s judgy. But then his face splits into a grin and he says, “If you need anything until then, don’t be afraid to ask, Bry. What’s mine is yours, you got it?”
I nod, but don’t like the idea of taking anything from him. He’s already letting me stay here for nothing. Either he knows me too well, or my thoughts are written on my face.
Chris adds, “Dad doesn’t make me pay for shit, so everything I make is sitting in the bank. Seriously, whatever you need.”
More than ever, I wish my father was more like Cole. Ignoring the icky feelings fluttering around in me, I force a smile.
“Thanks, Chris. Seriously. For all of this. I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”
He scoffs. “Don’t thank me and make it weird.”
I chuckle. “Whatever.”
We get lost in watching TV, and for a while, everything feels good. Normal.
Just stick to the plan, Bryson. Everything will be okay if you do.
If only it were as easily done as said.