6. Chapter Six
Chapter Six
Hudson
Guilt eats at me all morning as I lie in bed and stare at the ceiling.
I hate that I had to decline breakfast with Trey, but after yesterday, I didn’t think I could handle another social thing so soon.
I feel the irritability crawling around on my skin like bugs, and I don’t want to snap at Trey or make him think differently of me because of it.
This used to be so easy. It’s a miracle I was able to handle it so well before, but I guess that’s just what I was used to.
My life has been nothing but calm and quiet for the last four years, since college ended and work started.
I didn’t have to get my Masters, but I had the opportunity to do so because of my grades and family’s financials, plus it looks better on an application, so I sucked it up and did another two years.
Those two years were more low-key, since the guys weren’t there with me. They’d all graduated at that point.
I made another group of friends, my roommate and the other guys in our dorm, though I can’t say we hung out often, not like I did with Austen and everyone.
It was a much calmer group than what I was used to.
We all took school seriously, were a bit older, and were just ready to be done with school.
It’s easier to focus on your academics when you aren’t hungover every day or have your friends begging you to go to party after party.
Once I was done with school for good, my life changed drastically and it was a much easier change than I thought it would be.
A lot of people stress about leaving school and being let out into the real world.
For me, that’s where I thrived. Being in charge of my life, making my own schedule, doing what I wanted… it was easy.
I’ve learned that I have to listen to myself and only do what I can handle.
Which is why I had to tell Trey I couldn’t do breakfast. It’s too much, too soon.
I need a break from yesterday so I can prepare for today.
An opening could be low-key, calm and peaceful, but knowing these guys?
It won’t be. There will be lots of people and noise and excitement—as there should be.
It’s a celebration. Austen worked really hard for this and we all know that, including me.
I’m not against celebrating, I just need to plan for it. I can only handle so much.
I hardly spend time with anyone these days, not even my parents.
It was easier to tolerate them when they were together.
Their divorce surprised the hell out of me.
I never saw them fight. When they told me they were splitting up, I thought back on what could have caused it and realized I never saw them interact much at all.
I guess that’s why they made the decision.
They deserve to be happy. They’re good people.
Though they still harass me together to make sure I’m okay.
I’m an adult. I’ve been living on my own for a long time, because I’m counting college.
I know how to take care of myself. Even if I have some bad days, I’ve learned to deal with my surroundings and move on.
I just wish they would back up a little, give me some space, and see what’s right in front of their faces.
They raised a fully capable, high-functioning autistic man who is successful and doing what he loves.
What more could a parent want?
Other than them throwing children and marriage at me, but that doesn’t happen as often, not since I told them they should look in the mirror before telling me to get married. Not the nicest thing I’ve ever said, but sometimes I can’t control my mouth.
My mother remarried. That’s how I got my stepsister, Amanda.
I don’t talk to her much, except for holidays and Mom’s birthday.
I have only met her a few times. She has a busy job, travels a lot, and we’re both adults.
It’s not like we’re little kids who are forced to spend the weekends with each other and build a new family dynamic, as much as my mother would love it.
Amanda is nice enough. A little too loud and in-your-face for me, but she’s fine. I don’t dislike her, though I can’t imagine spending a lot of time with her.
My father is low key when he isn’t being egged on by my mother.
We hang out a few times a year, outside of holidays since I spend those with my mother.
He lives closer to me, and sometimes I’ll stop by his house so we can watch a Wolves game, when I’m feeling more social.
He’s the closest thing I have to a friend, and I appreciate that when we’re together he doesn’t bother me with the same concerns as he does when he’s calling to check up on me ten minutes after my mother just did.
I know he does it because of her, so I don’t give him as much grief as I do her.
She’s the ringleader in the whole thing.
And maybe I make sure to get to his house just as the game is about to start so there is no time for small talk. I hate small talk. I suck at it. It’s pointless.
Useless conversation used to be easy back in college because everyone did it. Now? It feels like a waste of time, and I hate wasting my time.
The clock on the wall tells me I have an hour before I have to meet the guys, so I force myself to get out of bed and into the shower. Canceling has crossed my mind, but this lunch was my idea because sometimes I have a big mouth, so getting out of it is not really an option.
I expected coming here would be a lot, but I hadn’t anticipated the internal feelings.
I didn’t plan for guilt and… something I can’t put my finger on.
Something that’s making me feel weird about how much I’ve changed.
I word-vomited all that to Trey, and I’m not sure he really understood what I was trying to say.
Maybe it was weird, but hey, I do that sometimes.
Either way, it’s true. We’ve all changed, even if everyone is pretending they’re the same while we’re together.
It’s just a little harder for me to pretend, to so easily slip back into the guy I was then.
Though, like most things, I’m sure it’s just me overthinking this and no one notices it but me.
Except Trey, who won’t stop asking me what’s wrong. He’s starting to sound like my mother.
The shower gets hot quickly, and I jump in and wash up. Once I’m dried and dressed, I pull up directions on my phone as I make my way to the elevator, wondering if I should have texted Trey about going to lunch together.
I don’t mean to be anti-social or not thoughtful, but I’m so focused on what I have to do all the time that I don’t always think of others.
When I step off the elevator, I tap on Trey’s name to call him. I bring the phone to my ear. It rings as I make my way out of the hotel and onto the busy street.
“Hello?” The word echoes, and I look around.
“Trey?”
“Yeah?”
I look around again, sure I’m hearing him twice. Then I spot him, standing by a coffee cart a few feet away. He looks like he’s posing for a photoshoot. His clothes are nicer than anything he used to wear in college, but I hear he makes a lot of money so that’ll do it.
I end the call and walk up to him. He’s frowning at his phone when I reach him.
“Hey,” I say.
He looks up, confused before he breaks into a grin.
“Hey,” he laughs. “I thought we got disconnected.”
“Are you sneaking food?” I question.
“Me? No. Never.” He winks. “Just need some caffeine. You want one?”
I hold my hand up. “I’m good, thanks.”
I had a cup in my room. It wasn’t the worst coffee I’ve ever had, though I did splurge and get a nicer room. I don’t travel often, and I wanted to be comfortable.
“Are you walking to the restaurant?” I ask.
“Yep. Fuck Ubers.”
“Uh, okay…”
He laughs again. “Bad experience with them. I prefer to drive, but you’d have to be insane to drive in this chaos,” he says with a chuckle.
“Do you, uh, want to walk together?”
His eyes narrow slightly, a smirk forming on his lips. “Yeah, Huds. Let’s walk together.”
There’s something in his tone that feels weird, but again, it’s probably just me.
“Do you know where we’re going?” I ask.
“Nope. Just know we have to go this way.”
I pull out my phone and open the maps app again, clicking on the address for the restaurant.
“Twenty minutes,” I say. “Not bad.”
“I could use the workout.” He shrugs.
“Me too, I guess.”
We take our time walking, being passed by typical New Yorkers shoving by and rushing.
The worst is standing at the street corner waiting for the pedestrian sign to change because these people are so impatient and rude, and they stand right on top of you as if the few inches will make a difference in crossing.
“So, do you have any plans while you’re here? Statue of Liberty? Ground Zero? Brooklyn Bridge? Times Square?” Trey asks.
“No.”
“That’s… okay.”
“What?”
“Well, it’s New York. You seemed jealous of all the stuff Mack was showing off that he did the other day. Just thought maybe you’d be out doing stuff too.”
Nodding, I say, “New York is fine. It’s busy and different from what I’m used to, but I’m not sure I can handle being in this—” I gesture around us, “chaos…for a long period of time.”
“Ah, yeah… I get that. Crowds aren’t for everyone.”
Trey sips his coffee as we walk. I direct us when needed, turning down streets and avoiding crashing into people. I’d wanted to take a rideshare because I didn’t want to navigate these crowds, but as I see the way these New Yorkers drive, I get why Trey didn’t want to.
The restaurant is small, and we’re a few minutes late, meaning everyone else is already here. They make a scene when we walk in—getting to their feet and shouting for us as if we can’t see them taking up the entire back corner.
There are already a few appetizers on the table, with small plates in front of the guys with crumbs.
“You’re always late, Hudson. What’s up with that?” Paul says, reaching for a fry.
“We walked,” Trey says smoothly. “You know, taking in the sights.”
Trey and I sit at the last two open seats, side by side. His arm brushes mine, and I do my best to sit still, even though I’m already feeling on edge at how cramped the seating is.
“Well, hurry up and figure out what you want so we can order,” Mack grunts.
“You could have ordered without us,” I say.
“Andre wouldn’t let us,” Mack adds, eyeing Andre.
“I was just trying to be nice,” he says.
I pick up the menu and look it over. I’m starving. I had food delivered to my room, but it was early since I hadn’t eaten breakfast. Now I’m wishing I’d gotten more.
“So, how’s Dad life treating you?” Alex asks. “Kids being brats, I bet?”
“Actually, Rylee is very well-behaved,” Andre says. “Paul’s son, Maddox, on the other hand…”
Paul groans. “I thought we weren’t bringing that up?”
“I’m just sharing amongst friends,” Andre adds with a smirk.
“What did he do?” Trey asks curiously.
“He was suspended,” Paul deadpans.
“For what?” I ask.
“Apparently he and some other kids overturned a porta-potty during recess,” Paul says with a heavy sigh.
Everyone around the table bursts into laughter, but Paul’s cheeks are red from embarrassment.
“Are you kidding me? That is fucking hilarious!” Alex says, slapping the table, his eyes watering. His shoulder bumps Mack, who I’d normally expect to punch him. But he doesn’t. Nor does he say anything, which is… odd. Though maybe I’m just overthinking it.
I give Alex a double take when I see how close he’s sitting to Mack. I know this table is tight, but they weren’t that close a few seconds ago…
“Has anyone talked to Austen?” I ask.
“Obviously,” Alex says, reaching for his drink. “He’s excited about tonight, of course, to show off his fancy tech shit. I’m sure he’ll be ecstatic to see you guys.”
“Are you all ready to order?” the waitress asks as she comes up to the table.
She’s an older woman with short grey hair and too much make-up.
“Yes!” a few of the guys say in unison.
The waitress goes around the table and takes our orders. We all order a cheeseburger and fries, except Alex who orders the steak.
Trey and I put in orders for drinks—we both get a beer and water—while everyone else gets refills on theirs.
The restaurant is busy, but it isn’t too loud.
And though the guys were rowdy when we first showed up, it’s nothing like it was yesterday.
We have good conversations, catching up on what everyone’s been doing over the years, where everyone lives, and what their days look like.
It’s nice to catch up and be present rather than battling panic.
“Do you think you could get us some tickets?” Alex asks genuinely as he turns to me.
“Us?” I say.
A flash of panic falls over his face, but it disappears just as fast as it came.
Okay then…
“Oh, uh… yeah. You know, I go home a lot these days, and Mack would love to go to a game. Right, Mack?”
“All the way in Minnesota?” I ask, frowning.
Everyone around the table goes quiet, then Mack says, “I think he meant for a game against the Wildcats.”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I meant,” Alex adds with a nod.
They’re being weird. I glance around the table and no one else seems to have picked up on it, but maybe it’s just me over-analyzing stuff because of my own nerves.
They have spent a lot of time together recently.
They do live in the same town, and Mack was Alex’s physical therapist for quite some time after his knee injury. It’s probably just that.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I say.
“You should get them for all of us,” Andre adds.
“Yeah, maybe we can have like an annual meet up,” Trey says.
“Now that is a good fucking idea,” Paul says, tipping his beer at Trey.
I don’t hate the idea of that.