17. Sullivan #2
His smile is small. Familiar. Rueful, even, and I get it.
For a second it reminds me, too, of how we used to talk, which makes me even more sick to my stomach because I miss that.
He’s more familiar than I thought he’d be.
Maybe if I’d called. Maybe if I’d found a way to see him, I could have found a way back to myself that didn’t involve—this.
Not that I’m ashamed of what I do here. Shame isn’t the word.
While getting a guy off isn’t the same as writing a perfect line of music, or even playing a flawless solo, I take a measure of pride in this work.
It’s on my terms, it’s giving me a healthy amount of savings, and yeah—it’s indulging a need that hasn’t been met since the last time I saw Knight.
“I guess since it’s a secret, you can’t tell me who he is.”
“You wouldn’t know him.”
“Is that why you came up here? To talk about your boyfriend?”
“He’s not…”
“No?”
Knight frowns and kicks at the floor, an awkward little shuffle that only makes me more nervous. “You disappeared on me.”
“Yeah,” I agree. There’s nothing else to call it.
“Why?”
“A lot of reasons.”
“You wanna give me a few?”
“Not really. What’s the point? You do your thing, I do mine. Not to take away from anything that happened. I had fun.”
“Fun,” he repeats flatly.
“We both have lives—”
“Obviously. And this is what you want to be doing with yours?”
“Is that judgment?”
He shakes his head, but then he sighs. “Maybe. But not like I think you’re going to hell, more like you can do better, I guess.”
“Ha. Well, this is working for me right now.”
“You and Chelsea, though?”
“We’re still together. We’re just not exclusive.”
“And that’s okay with you?”
“It kinda has to be since I was the one who stepped out first, but also, yeah, it’s fine. I don’t need to be anyone’s one and only.”
“What do you…? Never mind.”
I want to let Knight off the hook. He certainly didn’t mean to walk in on this.
He probably showed up at the party for exactly the reason he said—peer pressure—and I think he did just come up to say hi.
We didn’t have much, but as little as I’ll let myself remember it, I really do think we had something, and I appreciate that he’s man enough to acknowledge that.
“I’m okay,” I tell him, answering the question he asked before Harrison’s knock came.
“It’s easy money, and it’s helping me deal with some shit from my past, which I don’t want to get into, but Chelsea knows, and she wouldn’t let me do anything that was too self-destructive.
She’s a good person. She cares about me. ”
Knight nods. “It’s good you have each other. I’m sorry—I’ve just never seen anything like this. Maybe I’m naive as fuck, but I didn’t realize shit like this went on at college.”
“A school this big? You’d be surprised what all goes on. It’s kinda like I told you this summer—there are plenty of people here that can keep a secret.”
“I guess we’ve all got ‘em, huh?”
I laugh softly, but the sound has zero mirth. “Yeah. We do. The interesting ones anyway.”
“You didn’t lose my number, did you?”
I shake my head.
“If you ever need anything.”
Fuck, is this it? Am I okay with that if it is?
A wave of missing him hits hard, threatening to knock me off the spot I’ve staked out on the floor.
At this point in my life, I don’t have in me what it would take to be jealous.
In fact, I think the farther he stays away from me, the better.
He’s got a whole, beautiful future in front of him while I feel like my life is headed on a downward trajectory.
Like I’m gonna crash hard at some point and only then will I be able to rise from whatever ashes are left.
I find myself looking forward to both, and in a way, racing toward the crash.
Like I can’t self-destruct fast enough, but my foot is constantly on the brake, too. One of these days, maybe the “fuck it” will override the fear, but they’re in a nasty fight, and neither is showing signs of fatigue.
“It was good to see you,” I say.
He laughs out loud. “Really?”
Yeah, I want to say. Like really, really good.
He’s got so much sweetness in him. When I left Sunrise Point, I was worried I’d hurt him somehow.
Damaged him. The memory hits with dizzying clarity.
That last night was—it was kind of beautiful, and it was what I held on to so tight until I was buried so deep in Adrian’s world again, I couldn’t even see the surface, much less anything even close to beautiful. “Yeah. Don’t be a stranger. Okay?”
“I could say the same thing.”
“Are you, though?” I ask.
“Just because what happened has to be a secret, doesn’t mean I regret it,” he says.
I swallow hard. As out of touch as I am with my emotions, sometimes something gets to me. Wallops me right in the chest, and I should have known it would be him. “Good luck with the rest of your season.”
“Thanks,” he says. “You’re keeping up?”
I shrug. “I told you once, didn’t I? You’re not the only one on the team in the closet.”
His eyes blow wide open. It’s almost funny.
I grin. “I mean—just statistically, it was impossible for you to be the only one to begin with.”
His eyes narrow back to two dark slits, and he gives me a wry grin. “What the hell do you know about statistics?”
I finally laugh, and it sounds genuine. “Not much, but that one I’m familiar with.”
“Who?”
I knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself, but I shake my head. “The only thing I’ll tell you is there’s more than one. Not including you.”
His wheels are turning so hard, it’s actually cute. “Gay or bi?”
“Oh, adamantly bi. So they claim.”
“You’re killing me right now.”
“Just keep your eyes open. You know, if you and your someone don’t work out. You’ve got decent options.”
That only seems to intrigue him more. “You know, I’m still…” he trails off again, but this time, I have no idea what he was about to say.
“Still what?”
He takes a deep breath. “You look different, but I still think you’re beautiful. I really do hope you’re okay.”
That stops my heart. “I am,” I somehow manage to say.
“It feels weird with you—not to at least like—hug. Or something.”
“We can hug,” I say, but I don’t know what part of me is speaking. This next part though, “but I would totally understand if you don’t want to.” Yeah. That sounds more like me.
It’s got him second-guessing, which, that was the point, right?
“I should probably go.”
I nod, wondering if the slime I feel is visible. If that’s what looks different about me. “See you around, maybe.”
“Yeah,” he says, turning for the door. “I’ll see you around.”
The way I’m fighting back tears when he leaves shocks and terrifies me. Like I don’t know what his presence here unlocked, but it’s something I’d much rather keep suppressed. Deep. Very, very deep. So deep I don’t want to even remember it exists as something I’m capable of feeling.
I tell myself it’s just nostalgia. Just a memory of myself I didn’t completely hate—that it’s got nothing to do with him.
I hope his boyfriend is kind. I hope he makes him feel confident and secure. I hope Knight is loved the way he deserves to be loved. The way he’s used to being loved. I hope the sad boy finally finds a way to be happy.