by M. E. Parker
“I guess we’re not,” he said, smiling. “You still up for Wild Orchid? Jordy and Ben want us to meet them in an hour.”
I nodded. “Yep, I’m in.”
He furrowed his brow. “Go get ready. You need to do something about all that,” he said, gesturing towards me.
I acted offended even though I wasn’t in the least. “Thanks.”
He grimaced. “I only speak the truth, Maybury. If you want a hot guy to buy you drinks tonight, you’re going to have to do something about your bedhead.”
I laughed. “Going.”
“Yell at me if you need help with your hair,” he said as I closed my bedroom door. I shook my head and laughed. I wasn’t going to ask him to do my hair, but there was no doubt he’d have to mess with it until it was perfect before we left.
I jumped in the shower and rinsed off. When I was drying off, I looked down at Chance’s clothes I’d left on the bathroom floor that morning. My stomach swooped as I bent down and picked them up. I tossed them in the hamper, trying to force my thoughts away from the last twenty-four hours. I dried my hair and squeezed some goo out of the yellow tube that Cam bought for me and rubbed it through my hair.
I put on my skinny jeans and the green Henley that Cam wanted me to wear the other night. I heard a knock at the door and muffled voices as I sat down on my bed to put on my suede Vans. It’s probably Jordy, I thought to myself, trying to figure out what to wear. A few seconds later, Cam burst through my door, closing it behind him.
“Lucy, you’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do….” he sing-songed, doing his best Ricky Ricardo impression.
I looked up at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”
He immediately came over to me and messed with my hair. “I’m talking about the hot football player standing in our living room asking for you.”
A flock of butterflies set off in my stomach and I lost my breath all at the same time. “Chance is here?” I rasped and then cleared my throat.
Cam tapped his chin. “Yes. That’s it, Chance, Chance Wyrick. I was thinking it was Chad for some reason. He’s the quarterback, right?”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “I thought you didn’t follow football.”
“I don’t follow football, Andy, but I do follow football players. Oh my god, he’s even hotter in person. I just wish he was wearing his uniform. Well, maybe just the pants. Yes, I’d like to see him in just the pants,” he said, looking up at the ceiling.
I laughed and went to stand up. “I guess I should go see what he wants,” I said nervously.
“Not so fast, Maybury,” Cam snapped.
“Make him wait for a minute. It’s good form. And while he’s waiting, you can tell me why the hell you haven’t told me about your secret quarterback hook up.”
I felt my face turn red. “Jesus, Cam. No, I mean, he’s just my neighbor from back home. Did you see him? He’s obviously straight.”
Cam squinted his eyes. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that, Andy. My gaydar pinged. The signal was weak, but there was a definite ping. Is this the old friend you ran into while you were home?”
I let out a breath. “Yeah, okay? But I’m not going into it right now. Later. I promise.”
Cam snapped at me. “Definitely later. How the hell have we lived together three years and you haven’t told me that your neighbor from back home is like the Tom Brady of Gilcrest University?”
Instead of answering him, I smiled and patted him on the shoulder in a very patronizing manner. “I’m super proud of you for being able to make that reference.”
He held up his hand and examined his fingernails. “Thank you.”
I nervously walked towards the door. “Better go see what he wants.” My hand shook as I turned the knob, opened the door, and stepped out of the bedroom.
“Just so you know, I’m carving out a big chunk of time later for a very long story,” Cam called out after me.
chapter thirteen
Chance
I stood there in Andy’s living room second-guessing myself for just showing up at his apartment. The waiting was killing me. I’d been a mess all day. He was the only thing I could think about. Practice was a shit show. Barely thirty minutes into running plays, I’d gotten sacked three times by a freshman defensive back. After the first time, Coach yelled at me to get my head outta my ass.
After the third time, he yelled my name. His voice was filled with rage. “Wyrick!” He waved me over to the sideline. I ran over to him and he spit on the ground beside me and took hold of my face mask. “I don’t know what’s got your head fucked, but you’ve got,” he looked down at his watch, “less than twenty-four hours to fix it. Do we need to talk?”
“No, sir,” I responded.
“Okay then, go fix it,” he said, letting go of my face mask and patting me on the shoulder.
“Yes, sir,” I said as I turned back towards the practice field.
“Wyrick,” he called, “where the hell do you think you’re going?”
“Back to practice, Coach.”
He shook his head. “Get off my football field, Wyrick, and go fix your fucking head, got it?”
I nodded and walked away from practice stunned. I’d never been kicked out of a practice before. I grabbed some dinner on the way to my dorm. I also texted a girl I knew that worked in the registrar’s office and asked her for Andy’s address. I knew which apartments he lived in, but I didn’t know his apartment number. She responded right away and gave me the address, no questions asked. I wondered if she’d do that for just anyone.
I ate my dinner in the laundry room which was down in the basement of my dorm while I washed Andy’s clothes. Then I took them up to my room and folded them neatly into a small duffle bag that had Gilcrest University Football printed on the side of it with a picture of our mascot, a lion, just above the words.
I showered and shaved and threw on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a clean flannel, grabbed the bag, and took off towards Andy’s place. As I walked, I tried to sort out what I was going to say to him. I promised myself I’d say whatever it took. Whatever it took to make him look at me with something other than hurt in his eyes.
I was so nervous when I knocked on the door, I was sweating. When the door opened, I was shocked to see the guy standing in front of me. He was… I didn’t really have another word to describe him other than beautiful. He had long, wavy blonde hair that fell to his shoulders and big blue eyes. He was wearing torn faded jeans and a tight black V-neck that hugged his body. A black corded necklace hung from around his neck with a small silver circle attached, and he had a silver cuff bracelet. He looked like a fashion model, one you’d see on the cover of a magazine.
His eyes drifted up and down my body. I felt my face warm. I’d never been so blatantly checked out by a guy before. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. A smile revealing perfect white teeth spread across his face. “I hope you’re looking for me, but I fear you may have the wrong apartment,” he said dramatically, looking up at me and batting his long lashes.
I scratched the back of my head nervously and gave him a half smile. “Actually, I was looking for Andy Michaelson. Do I have the wrong apartment?”
His smile brightened, and he opened the door wider. “Luckily, you’re in the right place. Andy lives here. Come on in.”
I stepped inside and took notice right away how nice the apartment was. “Andy’s just…” he said, pointing towards the back of the apartment. “I’ll go get him.” Then he looked back at me and said, “Would you like anything while you wait? A beer or a glass of wine? Maybe a full body massage?”
I looked at him and I could see the laughter dancing in his eyes. He was teasing me. I laughed and shook my head. “I think I’m good.”
“I do too,” he murmured under his breath as he walked out of the room.
It hit me after he left the room. What if he and Andy were together? It didn’t matter, I told myself. As long as Andy was happy, it didn’t matter. Jealousl
y filled me. But then I remembered the guy I’d seen Andy with the week before and it sure wasn’t the blonde.
I looked around the living room and wondered what was taking so long. The place was breathtaking. The furniture was modern, but there were touches of rustic mixed in that made the place feel homey. The art on the walls was expensive, and so was the sculpture on the bookcase. The place looked like a picture in a design magazine and I wondered how Andy could afford it.
The bedroom door clicked, and I looked up as Andy walked out. “Chance?” he said with confusion on his face.
I nervously ran my fingers through my hair. He looked fucking hot. He was wearing a tight dark green Henley that made his eyes look greener than I remembered. The shirt molded perfectly to every muscle. The tight pair of dark jeans he was wearing were rolled up at the ankles. His hair was a perfect mess and I had an overwhelming urge to run my fingers through it right before I kissed him.
I felt myself blushing. “Uh, hey. I umm… brought your clothes, and I just wanted to check on you again and make sure you were okay.”
His brow furrowed, but before he could respond, the blonde came storming out of the bedroom. “Why do you have his clothes and why wouldn’t he be okay?” he snapped.
I looked at him and the laughter I’d seen in his eyes was gone, replaced with a deep fierceness. He was looking at me like he wanted to rip my throat out. I wondered again if he and Andy were together. If that was the case, I realized I probably just gave Andy another reason to hate me.
Andy looked back at the blonde and lied with a fake smile on his face. “Simmer down, mama bear. I left some clothes at Mom’s. I’m sure she asked him to bring them to me.”
The blonde looked back and forth between us and his eyes finally landed on Andy. “So, why wouldn’t you be okay then?”
He shrugged. “I had a stomach thing while I was home. It was just a twenty-four-hour thing. I’m fine now. I’m guessing Mom asked you to check in?” His cheeks were red when he looked at me.
I nodded. The blonde looked at me warily. I shifted my eyes to Andy. Andy finally smiled. “I guess I should introduce you two. Chance, this is my roommate, Cameron Ansley. Cameron, this is Chance Wyrick. We grew up next door to each other.”
I awkwardly held out my hand to Cameron and his eyes finally softened. He took my hand and shook it. “Well, this is a surprise.” Then he cocked his head. “So, you didn’t happen to play football for Wytheville high school, did you?”
I looked over at Andy and his face was bright red. I was sure I was in the middle of a private joke.
Ignoring Cameron’s question, I turned towards Andy and cleared my throat. “Sorry to barge in. I was hoping we could talk. Catch up and stuff, you know. But I’m interrupting, so I’ll just…” I murmured, pointing towards the door.
Cameron smiled and said, “No, stay. You’re not interrupting anything. Please.” He smiled as he walked over and sat down in a chair in the living room. He crossed his legs and looked at the two of us like we were the most interesting things he’d ever seen.
Andy gave him a look, but I couldn’t read it. “I’ll just go,” I said, not knowing what else to say.
“No, stay,” Cameron uttered as he pushed a curl behind his ear and stood up. “I just remembered I promised Jordy that I’d help him pick out something to wear tonight. So, I’ll just be across the hall,” he said as he scrambled to the door. “Andy, I’m guessing you’ll meet us later?” He paused. “Or not is okay too.” He smiled and looked between us. “So nice to meet you, Chance. You guys have fun.”
“Nice to meet you too, I think,” I mumbled.
He laughed. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Maybury.” He opened the door and stopped. “No, wait. That was terrible advice. Don’t do anything Jordy wouldn’t do,” he said, smiling at Andy.
Andy smiled at him the way he used to smile at me, and it felt like a knife stabbing me in the gut. “Bye, Cam.”
As soon as Cameron closed the door, I looked at Andy. “Is he always so…?”
“So what, gay? Yes, he’s gay. I’m gay too, remember?” he snapped.
I flinched at his outburst. “I was going to say flirty.”
“Oh, yeah then. He is always that,” he said, relaxing a little. “But don’t talk shit about him. He’s my best friend.”
I nodded and felt like I’d been stabbed in the gut again. I was always Andy’s best friend. And even though I knew I was the reason I wasn’t anymore, it still hurt.
He let out a breath. “Sorry. I’m just surprised to see you, I guess.”
I grinned at him. “Why does he call you Maybury?”
He shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know. My name’s Andy and I’m from a small town in North Carolina—you know, ‘Andy from Maybury’. He has this thing for TV shows from the sixties and seventies.”
I shouldn’t have asked, but I couldn’t help myself. “So, are you together?”
Andy rolled his eyes. “No, I just told you. Roommate. Best friend. Not that it’s really any of your business.”
I smiled. Not because I irritated him, but because I was glad he wasn’t with Cameron. “So, do you always lie to your best friend and roommate?”
“Only about you,” he said under his breath as his face turned another adorable shade of red. He rolled his eyes again. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud. When you said you wanted to talk, I assumed that didn’t mean you asking me twenty questions.”
“Sorry,” I said, feeling nervous all over again.
He sighed. “Sit down.” He took the duffle bag out of my hands and went to unzip it.
I sat down on the end of the couch. “You can keep the bag,” I said. “I have a bunch of them.”
He tossed it on the floor and sat down on the opposite end of the couch. “So, what’s going on, Chance?”
chapter fourteen
Andy
“I, uh, was trying to figure out what was different about you this morning. It’s your glasses. You’re not wearing your glasses,” Chance said, looking over at me from the opposite end of the sofa.
I pointed up towards my eyes. “Contacts. I still have my glasses, though.”
“Good.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, you look good, Andy. Really good. I just…” His voice trailed off and he looked down at his lap.
For some reason, I knew I needed to be patient with him. I could tell he was nervous. I was nervous too. “I don’t know where to start,” he said.
“Wherever you want.” I had a million questions about what happened between us, but I figured he came here to tell me, or ask me something, and I should just let him get it out.
“I’m gay.” He laid his head against the couch and squeezed his eyes shut. A tear rolled down his cheek. I knew I should’ve said something, but I was stunned. Frozen. Even after everything that happened, it felt surreal.
He opened his eyes, dried the tear off his cheek with his shoulder, and looked at me. “You look surprised. I figured after last night…” His voice trailed off. He sighed. “God, it feels so good to finally say that out loud.”
I cleared my throat and tried to ignore the lump in it. “So, you’ve never said it before?”
He looked at me with his perfect dark chocolate eyes and shook his head. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. “I couldn’t,” he said. “Until now. I’m sorry, Andy.”
“Why are you sorry? You have nothing to be sorry about, Chance.”
He laughed. “I have a million things to be sorry about. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. I’m sorry I let you believe I was something I wasn’t. I’m sorry I treated you like shit back then.”
“Chance, I…” I was trying to figure out what to say. “It’s okay,” I finally said, feeling like he needed some sort of absolution. “The truth is, I wish you’d have talked to me back then. I’ve always wanted to apologize for what happened that night. I—”
He interrupted me. “Apologize to me? For what?” He looked at me in disb
elief.
“For… I don’t know.” I chuckled. “I made a pass at you. I touched you without your permission. If I hadn’t done that… I mean, I shouldn’t have done it. I always thought if you’d have let me apologize, we could have fixed our friendship.”
He looked at me. “God, Andy, do you really think that any of what happened between us was your fault? It wasn’t. It was all on me. I just… I couldn’t face it back then. I couldn’t accept it. My father… I don’t know.”
I was trying to follow what he was saying, but he was talking in riddles. Clearly, he was in distress, but I wasn’t sure how to help him. “Look, I’ll let you apologize for ghosting me back then. It was shitty. But I’m telling you it’s okay. I won’t let you apologize for not coming out to me sooner. That’s bullshit. We were young. You were unsure. Confused. Whatever. Coming out is a personal choice, Chance. You should never feel pressured to do it.”
He looked over at me. “Honestly, it still terrifies me. But I’m so fucking exhausted. I’m so tired of pretending I’m something I’m not. But at the same time, the thought of telling my father, of telling Coach, or the guys on the team… God, I don’t know if I can do it,” he said, as he furiously wiped tears from his cheeks.
My heart broke for him in that moment. I scooted next him. I opened my arms. “Come here.” I pulled him into a tight hug, and I was surprised by the way he clung to me. His head on my shoulder. Tears soaking my shirt. “You know, you don’t have to pretend anymore. Not with me. And you also don’t have to tell anyone you don’t want to. It’s not all or nothing.”
He finally pulled away from our embrace and wiped his eyes. “Huh?”
“I just mean you don’t have to tell everyone all at once. You’ve told me. And if you want to tell someone else that might be supportive, fine. If not, fine. But there’s no rule that says you have to do it all at once. If you’re not ready for your father to know, or your Coach, or the team, just don’t tell them.”
I could finally see some of the weight being lifted off his shoulders. He looked up and blinked at me. “Andy, have I totally fucked our friendship? I mean, is there any way I can fix it?”