“Yeah?” Eric eyed it. “What am I looking at?”
“It’s a fern. See?”
“Oh, yeah, I see it now. That’s cool. Does it have some fancy name?”
“I don’t know,” Will said as he put the fossil in his pocket. “We called ’em plant fossils… as opposed to animal fossils.”
“Deep.” Eric laughed when Will shoulder-checked him. “Lead on, oh fossil guru.”
LATER, AS they sat at a table in the Skyland lodge, Will put down his cheeseburger, stared out the window at the view, and turned to Eric, eyes alight. “Thanks for making me go see the leaves. This has been a great day.”
Eric was touched. Will rarely got that mushy. “Glad you enjoyed it. It’s not over yet, though. We got two hours back in the car. I’m thinking Scissor Sisters for our next sing-along. What do you say?”
“You got any Waylon Jennings?” Eric’s face must have been a study, because Will chuckled. “Just kidding.”
THEY RETURNED to the dorm around four, only to be greeted in the lobby by Jerry, who was looking none too happy.
“There you are. Didn’t you get my texts? We were supposed to meet at 3:30 so you could try on this Halloween costume.” He held up something red and glittery.
“Sorry. I forgot.” Eric peered at the costume with a growing sense of dread. He loved playing dress up, but Jerry’s ideas were often over the top, even for Eric. “What’s that supposed to be?”
“You’ll see.” Jerry focused on Will as they headed for the stairs. “Hello, Will. What are you going as for Halloween? An Atlanta Falcon?”
Eric’s “back off” glare was wasted on Jerry, who had his back turned to him, but Will didn’t seem perturbed.
“Naw, man. I think I’ll sit this one out. Can’t wait to see what you do with Eric, though.”
“It’s a masterpiece.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Eric said as he pushed open their door.
Five minutes later Eric hid in the bathroom and surveyed himself in their small mirror, trying to see the totality of the glittering red travesty he’d put on. Eric wasn’t modest about his body, not these days. He’d endured a severe geeky phase of pudginess in high school, but eventually, to his relief, he’d grown tall and broad shouldered. He was also quite well-endowed, another blessing from the body gods. But this… thing Jerry had designed left almost nothing to the imagination. It appeared to be a devil onesie, held together by thin red straps and complete with a sparkly tail. It was cut so low on either side it barely covered Eric’s strategic parts, and there was no wearing underwear with it, so said parts were quite discernable under the stretchy fabric.
So what did he care? He usually subscribed to the “if ya got it, flaunt it” philosophy—as befitting a theater major and a major drama queen. But this time it wasn’t only Jerry on the other side of the door, waiting to admire his own costuming genius. Will was there too. And for some damn reason, Eric felt shy, as though he were back in high school, being an awkward mess and wanting to hide from his crush. Crush? Oh no. No, no, no, no. Eric refused to give in to the classic “gay dude hopelessly crushing on his straight roomie” trope. He lifted his chin, opened the door, and took a slow, campy stroll into the room.
“Well?” he purred as he struck a pose. “What do you think?”
Will turned red and made a choking sound as Jerry clapped his hands with a delighted smile. “Exquisite! Hold on, I’ve got the naughtiest set of devil horns.” He opened his satchel and peered in.
Eric braved a glance at Will. He wanted to say something like, “Get used to it, darling. My fabulousness cannot be contained,” but all that came out was “That bad, eh?”
“No.” Will coughed. “Not bad. Not bad at all.”
Chapter SEVEN
“HAVE ANOTHER helping, honey.”
Eric groaned. “Mom, I’ve eaten enough to last a lifetime.” He picked up his wineglass, swirled what was left in it, and finished it off. “Pass the wine.”
His mother frowned. “I don’t like to see you drinking too much.”
“Mom, please. I’m twenty-one.”
“Lush,” commented Doug, who was helping himself to more of everything.
Eric grabbed the wine bottle and poured himself another glass. Thanksgiving at home was often a trying affair, especially since his parents had divorced and it was the three of them staring at each other.
He wished Jerry were around, but Jerry had gone home to Texas. Then his thoughts strayed to Will, who wasn’t going home to Georgia. Eric had invited him to spend Thanksgiving with his family, without thinking too much of it, but Will had hesitated, looked uncomfortable, and finally said he had a “friend” he was spending it with. Whatever. If he didn’t want to tell Eric he was spending it with Jessie, the precious girlfriend, Eric wasn’t going to pry.
After helping to clear the table and load the dishwasher, Eric escaped to his room to start running lines for the spring musical, Wicked. The cast was announced the day before Thanksgiving break, and although Eric had been pretty sure about his chances, he still jumped into the air when he saw he was given the role of Fiyero.
An hour later he was on his bed, staring at the TV, script open beside him when his phone buzzed with a text from Will that said Hey. Eric texted back Hey whats up. A moment later the phone rang.
“Hi, there.”
“How’re you?” Will’s low voice was oddly comforting.
“I’m fine. You?” Why was Will calling? Wasn’t he with Jessie?
“Okay. Uh… what’re you doing tonight?”
“Nothing. I’m stuffed, and I was running lines for the play, but mostly lying around. Why?”
“Do you wanna get together?”
“What about your girlfriend?”
Will made a sound suspiciously like a snort. “There is no girlfriend.”
“What? Oh man, I’m sorry. Yeah, sure, let’s get together. You probably need a drink.”
Will laughed. Poor guy. He sounded like he was losing it. But all he said was, “Um… yeah, I guess I could use one.”
ERIC WALKED into the club and looked around. They’d agreed on escaping Northern Virginia, and Eric had heard about this place in Georgetown. It was crowded for Thanksgiving night, filled with twentysomethings like them who probably had the same idea about escaping their family circuses. He finally saw a figure hunched over a drink at the bar and made his way there through the dancing crowd.
“Hi.” He put his hand on Will’s shoulder.
“Hey. Thanks for coming, man. Let’s get a table.” Will hopped off the stool and picked up his tumbler full of some kind of liquor.
Eric eyed it. “Already on the hard stuff, are we? I’ve never seen you drink anything stronger than beer.”
“Felt like whisky tonight.” Will peered around the room. “There’s one.”
They headed to the empty table and sat down. “Hey,” Eric said. “I’m sorry that things didn’t work out with your girlfriend. That really sucks. Do you want to talk about it?”
Will shook his head with a wry smile. “About my—about Jessie? Naw. I’d rather get drunk.” He took a hefty gulp of his drink. “So how was your Thanksgiving?”
“Boring. I’m glad you called. I was about to climb the walls.” Will nodded. “I mean, I love my mom, but I hate sitting around with her and Doug, playing happy family. Holidays basically suck since my parents got divorced.”
The waitress came by, and Eric ordered a glass of wine. When Will asked for another whisky, Eric decided not to drink too much because he planned on driving Will home, wherever that might be.
“Sorry about your parents, man,” Will said. “Families are rough.”
“I guess. Mine was okay growing up, except for the usual sibling squabbles with Doug. And my parents seemed like this perfect couple. They hid all their problems. I was shocked when they said they were getting a divorce. Mind fuck, man.”
“Yeah.”
“So you sure you don’t want t
o talk about it?”
Will looked confused.
“About what happened with Jessie?”
“Oh. Me and Jessie—” Will’s face got red, and he shrugged. “We have fights. No big deal.”
“Oh, okay. I thought when you said ‘there is no girlfriend’ that you broke up or something.”
“I said that?” Will laughed, and when he gulped down some more whisky, Eric thought his face looked even more flushed. It was probably the alcohol. “So Jerry went home for Thanksgiving?”
“Um… yeah.” Eric was pretty sure he’d told Will that before they left school for the holiday. He cast around for another subject. “What about your family?”
Will paused with the glass halfway to his mouth. “My family?”
“Well, you haven’t said much about them. Is your brother the evangelical your only sibling?”
Will took a long drink, set down his glass, and signaled the waitress to bring him another. “Mm-hmm.”
Eric suppressed the urge to point out that Will had ordered his third whisky, even though it was out of character for him to get totally smashed. But he wasn’t Will’s RA or his nursemaid, and Will had already announced his intention to get drunk. Eric waited a beat longer and then laughed. “Okay. Families are off the table for tonight.”
“Are they?” Will made a show of peering at their table. “God, I hope so. Not much to tell about mine. Glad they’re in Georgia, not here. They’re probably drunk and yelling at the football game… or passed out.” He studied his empty glass. “Sorry. I’m being a drag tonight. Maybe I should go.”
“No way. For one thing, I’m not going to let you drive. And for another, you’re never a drag, roomie.”
“Thanks.” Will traced his finger on the table and then lifted his head. “Eric—”
“What?”
“Nothing. It doesn’t—forget it.”
“Huh?”
Will didn’t respond, but his misery was palpable.
Eric leaned forward and spoke softly. “Hey, you know you can tell me anything, right? But you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”
“Okay. Yeah.” Will accepted the fresh drink from the waitress and then straightened his shoulders. “Moving on. Tell me about this musical you’re gonna be in.”
“I’m amazed you can still carry on a coherent conversation.” Eric tilted his head toward Will’s drink as the waitress refilled his water glass. “Okay. What do you wanna know?”
ERIC’S VAGUELY pornographic dream vanished abruptly when something crashed. His eyes flew open, and he turned on his bedside light. Will stood in the middle of the room, wild-eyed and clutching his hip. He must have run into Eric’s desk. The stack of books and CDs that usually teetered precariously by his computer lay scattered everywhere.
“Will,” he hissed. Will didn’t seem to recognize him. Uh-oh. Eric remembered Will mentioning that he sometimes walked in his sleep. “Will,” he said more loudly. “It’s okay. It’s me, Eric. You’re at my house for the night, remember? You were too drunk to drive.”
Will took a few steps toward the bed and then turned and started to walk out of the room.
“Hey!” Eric sprang up and took Will’s arm. “Where are you going? Do you need to pee?”
Giving him a vacant stare, Will moved around him and made toward the bed.
“Will? Um, okay.”
Eric watched Will’s feet get tangled in the sleeping bag that was on the floor next to his bed and that he’d insisted on sleeping in, telling Eric in a drunken slur to keep the bed all to himself. He fell face first onto the spot Eric had vacated. Then he burrowed into Eric’s pillow—was he sniffing it?—wriggled his body around with a beatific expression, and relaxed. In another moment he was snoring.
As he went into the bathroom to take a leak, Eric couldn’t help but smile at Will’s cuteness. When he returned, Will had managed to sprawl across most of the bed, and his snore was even louder. For a moment Eric let himself look at Will’s mussy hair, parted mouth, biceps that…. Okay, no more creepiness. He crawled into the sleeping bag that had held Will and pulled its warmth around him.
“AH! GONNA get you for that. Die, die, die!”
“Ha! No way, loser. Get ready for dis!”
“Damn.”
Eric yawned as he walked down the hallway. He’d woken up to find his bed empty and the sound of explosions and laughter coming through the wall. When he peeked into Doug’s room, he saw Doug and Will sprawled on the floor, video game controllers in their hands, engaged in battle. Eric leaned in the doorway with his arms crossed and watched as Will blew something up and Doug cursed.
“Having fun, guys?” he asked.
Both nodded without taking their eyes off the game, so Eric continued downstairs to make coffee.
As he neared the kitchen, he sniffed the air appreciatively. Not only did he smell coffee already brewing, he thought he detected the delicious aroma of fresh pancakes. Mom stood at the stove.
“Something smells good,” he said as he came up to hug her from behind.
She kissed him on the cheek. “I thought I’d do some pancakes, since you have your roommate here.”
“Will? Yeah, he and Doug are busy bonding over video games.”
“Yes, we met earlier. He was very polite too. And cute.”
“Mom,” Eric protested and poured himself a cup of coffee. “He’s straight and having problems with his girlfriend. But yeah, he’s cute. Oh, and if he brings it up, Jerry and I are dating. Okay?”
“What?” She frowned. “Dear, you know you always end up shooting yourself in the foot when you try to be tricky.”
“Yes, Mother. Anything you say—hey!” Eric wasn’t able to move in time to avoid the dishtowel that flew into his chest. At least Mom favored soft objects when she was in a throwing mood.
Chapter EIGHT
THE CHEERS in the sports bar reverberated off the walls. The Redskins must have done something good, not that Eric cared. He was there because Will had picked this place for their brunch. He wasn’t at Jessie’s this weekend, and since everyone was about to leave for Christmas break, they were getting together with Jerry and Tyrone, who were late, as usual. Eric smiled to himself at the thought of their faces when they walked into this place.
Another cheer broke out.
“Having fun?” he asked Will, who slouched in the booth, his face turned to the TV.
“Oh yeah. Too bad we can’t see the Falcons. They aren’t sucking as much as the Redskins this season.”
“Fabulous. Good to know.” Eric laughed when Will aimed his toast at him.
Eric took a bite of eggs. The food was good, thank God. “Only you, Will.”
“Only me what?”
“Only you could get three flaming queens like me, Jerry, and Tyrone to have brunch in a sports bar.”
Will chuckled. “I wouldn’t say you’re flaming. Jerry and Tyrone, though….”
“Exactly. Aha, and here they are. Finally.”
Jerry’s expression was priceless as he and Tyrone walked to their booth. He appeared dumbfounded at the sheer number of people in Redskins apparel. When they reached the booth, he took another look around.
“My God. The testosterone alone in this place is just beyond. Good morning, dolls.”
“Good afternoon, you mean,” Eric said. “Took you long enough. Hi, Tyrone. Welcome to Will’s world.”
Tyrone flashed a smile. “Hey, boo. Will, how’s it hangin’?”
Jerry groaned. “Oh, no, don’t try to be macho. You’ll never get there.”
“Hey.” Will raised his coffee cup a fraction. He had on his Falcons T-shirt and was the picture of macho if macho meant delicious biceps and a mouth that featured in Eric’s fantasies.
Tyrone gave a graceful shrug. He was black, gorgeous, a dancer, a fellow theater major, and one of the most mellow people Eric had ever met. He and Will got along great.
Jerry huffed in impatience. “Well, shove over.” He took
a seat next to Eric while Tyrone settled next to Will.
Eric gave Jerry, who was frowning, a peck on the cheek. “Hi, dearest.” He knew Jerry was irritable about having to play pretend boyfriend before he’d had his coffee.
Jerry scowled and then glanced at Will and managed a faint smile. “Hello. Darling.”
Eric signaled for their waiter. “We ate already.”
“I noticed.” Jerry stole the last piece of bacon off Eric’s plate.
“Hey! Get your own.”
“I will as soon as we can get some food.” Jerry took a bite and handed the rest of the strip to Eric. “If we ever do. Is it always this crowded?”
Tyrone smirked at them. “You lovebirds, always bickering. Will, you’re the reason I’m seeing Eric and Jerry in a sports bar for the first time ever. Congrats on pulling off the impossible.”
Jerry harrumphed. “You should talk.”
“Hey, I was raised in a family of Redskins fanatics. Too bad the Redskins suck.” Tyrone glanced at the TV. “What’s the score?”
“Who knows?” Eric finished the bacon and wished Jerry would lighten up.
“Fourteen-nothing, Redskins,” Will said. “Maybe they won’t suck this game.”
The waiter approached with a coffee pot and took Jerry and Tyrone’s orders.
“Ah, coffee at last.” Jerry drank. “Now I can be human. What’s everyone doing for Christmas break? Anything fun?”
Will shook his head. “Gotta go back to Georgia. Not fun.”
“Tell me about it,” Jerry said. “It’s Texas for me. Not exactly the place for this gay boy. But what can you do? Family, am I right?”
Tyrone asked Eric, “You still coming to our place for Christmas dinner?”
“Of course.” At Will’s questioning look, Eric explained, “You know I’m Jewish, right? So it’s always been Chinese and a movie on Christmas. Then I met this guy freshman year, and he got me to come to Richmond for Christmas. What a scene.”
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