Brush Strokes
Page 13
“You getting ready to go?” Daniel asks, leaning close to Todd’s ear, before he pulls back enough to see Todd’s reply.
He grabs Daniel’s arm and checks the time on his wristwatch. It’s past three. Holy shit. Todd swallows his ragged breathing long enough to speak.
“If you are?”
Daniel nods and takes his hand. Todd freezes, but, of course, Daniel only wants to make sure that they don’t lose each other in the crowd.
He turns to say goodbye to Gemma, but she’s making enthusiastic thumbs up at him and she’s already dancing with another guy. Todd isn’t sure if the gesture is because she thinks Todd is leaving with Daniel for that reason or because the new dude is pretty hot. Possibly both.
Outside, he sucks in fresh, cold air in big gulps, and walks backward to be able to talk to Daniel. He has no clue where they’re going.
“Where did that girl go?” he asks.
“What?”
Todd repeats his question.
“Stop, I can’t make out anything you say when you’re walking,” Daniel says, halting him by tugging at his arm.
“Sorry. Where did your girl go?”
“Who? Shauna?”
“I don’t know her name.” Todd shrugs. “The one you danced with.”
“Shauna,” Daniel confirms. “She went home.”
“I thought she was coming with you.” He blames his bluntness on the alcohol.
“Coming with me?” Daniel squints at him—definitely also drunk. “You’re coming with me.”
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Todd elaborates, “You know what I mean.”
“The answer is still the same—” The rest of the world disappears; Todd thinks he means something else entirely, until Daniel continues. “—It’s not like I’m taking someone home with me if you and my sister are there.”
“Maybe next time?” Todd tries, ignoring the way the heaviness in his stomach has disappeared, and starts walking backward again.
Daniel snorts, rolls his eyes, and grabs Todd’s arm, when he almost backward-walks straight into the hood of a car. “Maybe.”
It doesn’t sound as though he means it.
Todd still has the music in his ears in the car ride back to Daniel’s place. His body is dead tired, but his head is still buzzing with energy.
“Did you have a good time?” Daniel asks, and Todd tears his gaze away from the city outside to turn toward him in his seat.
Daniel’s face is flushed, and his hair, darkened from sweat, is curled at the temples. Todd resists the urge to put it back in order.
“I really did.” As he says the words, warmth spreads through his chest like hot water spilled on fabric. It’s the best night he’s had in a long, long while. “Did you?”
“Very.” Daniel smiles. It’s tired in the best way, as if he’s spent all his energy on having a good time. “I saw your dance-off with Gemma.”
“Her ugly dancing was way better than mine.”
“I’d say it was a pretty even competition until she brought out the Carson moves.”
Todd laughs. That was definitely the final blow.
“I’m a pretty terrible dancer, so I go for ugly dancing. That way people will think it’s intentional.”
“Smart move.”
“You looked like you were having a good time.” Todd meets his gaze and bites his tongue.
“I can’t really hear the music that well anymore. I can hear and feel the beats.” He pauses. “I wouldn’t be able to hear something played in here, but sometimes, at clubs, it can work.”
“But you can’t hear the lyrics?” Todd asks.
“No. Ten years back, maybe, but not anymore.”
“Sorry for asking.”
“I don’t mind.” Daniel’s gaze slips to the window, then returns to Todd. “It feels nice when you want to know more about me and who I am.”
Todd’s gaze drops to his hands before he looks up.
“I always want to know more about you,” he says before he can stop himself. “Would you share something with me?”
Daniel is quiet for a long while, just looking at him. “I’m scared all the time.”
Blinking, Todd moves a little closer, as far as the seatbelt allows him. “About what?”
“Making choices. How do you know if you’re making the right one?”
“I don’t know.” Todd shrugs and chews his bottom lip. “Maybe you just feel it? Like a sense of home?”
“Sorry?”
He reaches out, pressing a hand to Daniel’s chest. “I think you feel it. Here.”
Biting his lip, Daniel looks at Todd’s hand. “And what if you don’t? What if you feel like you don’t belong anywhere?”
“Everyone belongs somewhere,” Todd says. Maybe it’s a lie? It’s better than saying that perhaps some people are bound to be lost. He doesn’t want to believe that, because it scares him. He’s always thought he had his home in the gallery. Now, that’s threatening to slip through his fingers. But what if he never had a chance to experience all of this?
“I hope you’re right.” Daniel covers Todd’s hand with his own. His palm is warm and a little sweaty. Then he smiles, and whatever existed between them is gone.
A while later, when they’re in the kitchen getting water bottles, Todd taps Daniel’s arm.
“I just… thanks for letting me stay with you.”
“It’s no trouble.”
“I wouldn’t have wanted to miss out on this for any reason.” He pauses. “Your friends are really cool.”
Daniel squeezes his shoulder, but Todd would rather have a hug. Daniel pulls away before he can ask. “Glad to hear that. And that you had a good time.”
Todd lies in the bed in the guestroom after brushing his teeth and washing the dried sweat from his body. It’s already dawn. If someone had told him a month ago that he would be spending the night at Daniel’s house, he would’ve laughed at them. On the other hand, if someone had told him the same thing at the end of August, he would have tingled all over.
Todd can’t shake the feeling he got when Daniel tried to help him with ideas for the gallery and how he shared his own insecurities, how he offered thoughts and ideas although he would benefit from the gallery closing, and how he trusted Todd with something he probably doesn’t tell a lot of people.
If Todd’s being perfectly honest with himself—and since he’s alone in the guestroom, staring up at the ceiling, he can be—he isn’t sure that he would have been able to do the same thing for Daniel.
Rolling over on his side, he closes his hand around the corner of the pillow, pushing away the thoughts of Daniel holding it as they were pushing through the crowd.
Friends. He’s messed this up once already. He’s not going to do it again.
Chapter Five
Todd wakes around eleven when his phone buzzes on the nightstand. Groaning, he reaches for it and blinks until his vision clears. It’s from Daniel.
> Let me know when you’re up and we’ll have breakfast.
Todd breathes deep, scanning his body before he attempts any bigger movements. His head is a bit heavy and cottony, but other than that, he feels better than he probably should, considering how much he drank last night.
< I’m just gonna reconnect to reality. Gimme ten.
He doesn’t receive a reply but gets out of bed a few minutes later. At least he was smart enough to bring sweatpants, as his jeans probably smell like spilled beer and smoke machine.
The door to Daniel’s room is open. Rocking back and forth on his feet, Todd decides to check if Daniel’s left for the kitchen already.
He stops in the doorway, hovering, because Daniel is there pulling a shirt over his head.
It’s nothing he hasn’t seen, but it’s more naked and intimate now when Daniel is in soft-looking
pants and not his swimwear.
Daniel notices him as soon as the shirt is past his face.
“Morning,” he greets. He looks a bit tired, too, as though last night’s escapades will wear on him for the rest of the day. Todd can relate. He’s drained, as if he’s used his energy resources for the next couple of days already.
“Morning,” Todd echoes. “Feeling okay?”
Daniel nods. “Woke up with a bit of a headache, but I took painkillers an hour ago.”
“Good call.”
“My biggest problem now is that my mouth feels like I’ve been chewing sand.” Daniel grimaces.
Todd can definitely relate. “I’m feeling much better than I deserve.”
Smiling, Daniel jerks his head toward the door. “Are you hungry?”
“I think starving is a better word.”
“Starving?” Todd nods. “Great, because so am I.”
The kitchen is empty when they get there, and there’s a calm to the house that Todd didn’t expect. The kitchen is kind of homey, with the sunlight flooding through the windows.
“Where’s Ava?”
“She’s at a friend’s. She woke me up before she left.”
Todd is secretly relieved; she clearly wasn’t thrilled about him.
“I suspect it had less to do with her wanting me to know where she was going and more about her wanting to check if you were in my room.”
Todd’s face heats. He doesn’t know why, since he really did sleep in the guestroom. He can’t blame Ava for her hesitance toward him either, but it’s a lot more comfortable to be around Daniel when he’s not constantly reminded of his own behavior. Mom would probably say that means it would be well to be reminded of it, however.
He watches in silence as Daniel makes omelets, and he helps with making coffee, careful not to make it as strong as he usually does. He expected not being able to have a conversation would be awkward, because it’s practically impossible for Daniel to keep up with one while cooking. It’s not, though.
“Are your last midterms this week?” Daniel asks, as he plates the omelets.
Todd waits until Daniel has put the pan down and is able to look at him again.
“Yeah, Wednesday and Thursday. When’s your last?”
“Friday.”
“Are you feeling prepared?”
“Do I ever?” Daniel sighs; he has a strained look Todd hasn’t seen before. “I’ve studied, though. Last night is the first in a long time that I’ve gone out instead of staying home to study.”
Todd admires that kind of self-discipline. For a long while he thought that people were lying when they said that they studied several hours every day. After getting to college, he realized that’s the rule more than the exception. “Everyone needs a break once in a while.”
“That’s true,” Daniel agrees, but he doesn’t look convinced. “But if I don’t get the grades I want in my classes, I’ll blame myself.”
Law school probably doesn’t care about everyone needing a break, either.
“You shouldn’t. It’s not gonna depend on whether you studied or went out last night. You were having a good time. It’s a good way to motivate yourself to study more now.”
“How’s that?”
Well, Todd made that up, but he’s not going to confess. “Lots of positive energy. Endorphins. You’ll be able to concentrate better.”
Daniel smiles; his face is soft and warm, as if he hasn’t quite woken up yet. “I’m ninety-nine percent sure that you’re making this up, but it makes me feel better, so I’m going to buy it.”
“I would never.”
Daniel scoffs. “Don’t make me regret this.”
Todd glares at him and fails spectacularly at anger, as he digs into his omelet.
“Is this heaven?” He resists the urge to lie down on the counter and cry.
“What?” Daniel has confusion written all over his face.
“This food. It’s heaven.” The omelet melts on his tongue, and Todd is torn between shoving it all into his mouth right away and eating slowly to savor every bite.
“I’m glad you like it.”
“I don’t think like is the right word.”
Daniel smirks, but he holds his head a little higher.
“I could marry you just to have this for breakfast for the rest of my life
“You’d grow tired of it.”
“I really wouldn’t.”
Todd has three cups of coffee. It’s mostly an excuse to not have to leave the counter or the conversation. Things are so relaxed between them now, and he wants to wallow in it.
Daniel checks his watch two hours later, and Todd is instantly reminded of Daniel’s midterm stress.
“Oh shit, I’m totally overstaying my welcome here, right?”
Daniel blinks at him.
“I mean, you’d rather study?”
That makes Daniel grimace. “I don’t know if I’d rather study, but you’re right. I probably should.”
“Thanks again for letting me stay over,” Todd says later, when he slings the bag over his shoulder at the front door.
“It was my pleasure.”
“I mean, if you’re ever going out in Brooklyn and need somewhere to stay, you’re always welcome.”
It’s meant as a joke mostly, because what would Daniel do in Brooklyn that would require a sleepover? To Todd’s surprise, Daniel smiles as though he appreciates the offer.
“I’ll definitely let you know.”
“Unless you’re allergic to bunnies,” Todd hurries to add. It would be just like him to give Daniel anaphylactic shock. “I have a pet bunny.”
Daniel looks at him with a frown and disbelief in his eyes, his smile is uncertain, but he doesn’t ask a question, just squeezes Todd’s shoulder in goodbye.
When Todd gets home, he has a missed call from Evan. And what the hell, things are okay right now. He might be successful in mending this too.
Taking a deep breath, ignoring the way his ribcage seems to shrink and his chest pull tighter, Todd presses Evan’s name in the list of missed calls.
It takes five painfully long rings before the call is picked up.
“Hello?”
Evan’s voice is achingly familiar and yet foreign to his ears. It’s been a year and a half.
“Todd?”
He struggles for something to say but comes up empty.
“Todd, is that you?”
Panic bubbles in his chest. He hangs up. He has no clue what to tell Evan or why he’s trembling all over now. It’s his brother.
When his phone buzzes in his hand with an incoming call, he jerks hard, almost dropping it. Evan’s calling him back. Todd mutes the call and hides the phone under his pillow. Picking up Sandwich, he hugs her close as he tries to think of something positive.
“Well, I fucked up again,” he tells her.
She twitches her nose.
A while later, Dad knocks on the door and finds Todd huddled on the bed with Sandwich pressed to his chest. She rarely lets him hold her this long, but maybe she can sense that he needs it right now.
“Evan called,” is the first thing Dad says.
“When does he not?” Todd mutters.
“He told me that you called.”
Oh, crap. “Butt-dialed.”
“Uh-huh,” Dad says, unimpressed. “When are we going to talk about this?”
“Preferably never.”
To Todd’s surprise, the mattress dips as Dad sits, and Todd is forced to look up from Sandwich’s soft ears.
“Why won’t you talk to him?”
Todd shrugs and lets Sandwich go with some reluctance. She hops toward Dad.
“I don’t know. It’s not like he wanted to talk to me when it mattered.”
Dad sighs.
“Well, it won’t solve itself. You need to talk to him.”
“I’m not ready.”
“Sometimes you never are.” Dad hesitates, but then he gives a little shrug and changes the subject. “How was last night?”
Relieved, Todd rolls onto his back. “It was really good. I went out with some friends in Manhattan.”
“Mela?” Dad brightens considerably.
“Yeah, she was one of them.”
“And you slept there?”
Of course, Dad has to ask about that.
“Nah, she slept at her boyfriend’s.”
Dad’s not going to drop it, obviously. He never does. Mom says it’s because he’s a worrier. Todd’s pretty sure that he’s just nosy. “Who did you stay with, then?”
“His name’s Daniel.” Todd clears his throat and avoids looking at Dad. “He’s friends with Mela’s boyfriend and let me crash there so I wouldn’t have to take the night train.”
There’s a moment of silence. “How nice of him.”
“Yeah.” Todd shifts. “We’re not that close, though.”
“Uh-huh,” Dad says again, voice just as flat as before.
“I’m serious.”
“Uh-huh,” Dad says for the third time, completely exaggerating.
Todd throws a pillow at him. “I don’t even know why I try talking to you.”
“I’m your dad.”
“Exactly.”
Dad ruffles his hair. “Let me know when this friend of yours is coming over for dinner.”
He leaves before Todd has a chance to protest. It would be one thing if Daniel really was something other than a tentative friend, but he’s not.
Before going to bed, he checks his phone and pretends not to see the missed calls from Evan. There are seven. Instead he focuses on the text waiting for him from Daniel.
> You forgot your sweats here. Also thanks for a great night out.
Todd looks through his bag, and, yes, they’re definitely missing.
< Crap. Sorry! When do you want me to come grab them?