30. Chapter Thirty
I’m triggered by Tuesdays.
It’s terrible. Especially since I don’t work on Tuesdays, so I spend the entire day stewing. Though, I’m almost done with this painting gig. I have maybe another week or so left of work to do. I haven’t gained the courage to talk to Troy about apprenticing, like Chris convinced me to. I’ve also been doing a shitty job of finding a better job. I’ve put in a few applications online, but I’m not working nearly as hard as I should be. There is this overwhelming fear of losing my mind completely if I keep getting rejected by jobs. A guy can only handle so much.
So because it’s Tuesday evening and well past the time Cole is typically home, but he still isn’t, I’m curled up in bed watching movies because I can’t find anything else to distract me. Not that this is doing any good either, but it’s better than the quiet. When my door bursts open, I jump, thanks to the scary ass movie I’m watching.
“Christ, it smells in here! What the hell have you been doing? Jerking off all day?”
Chris flops onto my bed, kicks his shoes off, and gets under the blankets with me.
Shit, we haven’t done this since we were kids.
“No, are you offering?” I smirk at him.
“Cum is gross.”
“Oh please, like that stops you.”
“My cum is wonderful. Anyone else’s? No fucking thanks.”
I think of Cole.
Fuck Cole.
“You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“GAG.”
I chuckle. “If you’re going to stay in here, you need to stop insulting my bodily fluids, and also shut up.”
He settles in and we fall into a comfortable silence as the movie plays. When it’s done, we find another. We order pizza. When it gets here, we rock, paper, scissors to go get it. I lose and run down to grab it, then hurry back up because the house is dark and I’m a chicken. We eat greasy ass pizza in bed, watch scary movies, drink soda from the two liter bottles because neither of us wants to go down for cups.
It feels good.
This is what I wanted when I came back here. This is what I missed. What I crave.
It feels so good to have my friend back.
It’s close to twelve when Cole shows up. He pauses in front of the door, staring at us with a small smile on his face that Chris can’t see him because he’s lying on his side with his back to the door, but since I’m on my back, I see him. I don’t want to see him. Don’t want to wonder what the fuck he’s been doing all night. Or rather, who?
So I ignore him. Act like I don’t even know he’s there. It’s hard because I want to look. Want to do more than look. A lot fucking more.
But if today showed me anything, it’s that my friendship is worth so much more than whatever it was me and Cole were doing. And I’m not risking my best friend for anything. Not for a damn thing. Not after this.
The alarm on Chris’s phone wakes us both up at six am.
I groan and roll over.
Chris mutters something incoherent and shuts it off. It’s quiet, and I drift back to sleep.
Until it goes off again.
“Get out or shut it off,” I grumble.
“Fucking hate mornings.”
He shifts on the bed, gets up, and leaves the room. I fall back asleep and don’t wake up until eleven.
I bring my laptop with me downstairs and eat breakfast while I browse websites where I can list my freelance services. Not sure why I woke up on a mission today, but I did. Maybe because I feel good today. I had a great night with Chris. Things feel right. I’m in a good fucking mood.
If I can get some freelance jobs, I can get more money, more experience, build my portfolio and it’ll look better on my resumes for jobs.
I even texted Troy about the apprenticeship. He hasn’t answered me yet, but it’s probably because he’s tattooing.
Or he thinks I’m a complete idiot.
Which, the more I think about it, probably isn’t true because he’s done nothing but praise my work. Which felt weird at first, until I realized that I do not get the same reaction over praise from everyone.
Just Cole.
My phone goes off with a text.
Tomas: Some friends and I are going out to the city this Friday. Wanna join?
Me: Possibly. What exactly are you doing?
Tomas: New club opened. Mark will be there.
Me: Didn’t know clubbing was your scene?
Tomas: It usually isn’t. But once in a while it’s fine.
I’ve never been to a club. Not a real club. Seems like it could be fun. And if it isn’t, it’s at least an experience.
Me: What time should I be ready?
Tomas: I’ll pick you up at 7. We’re meeting at my friend Sabrina’s and getting a rideshare.
Me: See you then
I stare at the texts between us, wondering if this is supposed to be a date. Tomas and I talked a while back on that dating app, so I know he’s gay. We never met up because I was too chicken shit. I was seventeen. The only people who knew I was gay were Chris and Cole. I’d never kissed a person before, let alone anything more. There was no way I was meeting up with someone from an app. Honestly, I’m surprised he recognized me at Mark’s party. Guess I haven’t changed much. Though, I recognized him pretty quickly too. I can’t tell if he’s into me like that, but I do know I’m not into him. He’s cool, but he’s not my type. Still, it’s one night out at a club. How bad can it be?
I’d love to invite Chris, but that isn’t an option. He’s staying away from drinking and the only thing that goes hand-in-hand with clubs and dancing is alcohol. So, he’ll have to sit this one out.
I spend the afternoon designing business cards for myself, which Cole said he’d get me, but I can’t bank on that any more considering we aren’t talking. Besides that, I can do it myself. Once they’re done and ordered, I search more freelancing sites and set up more accounts. I apply for as many jobs as I can find. When I close my laptop, I feel accomplished. And it feels amazing.