Kings
You're in my blood.
I can't do anything without you because you live inside me.
-- Doris Dana, Letter excerpt
This time, he didn’t wake up to a text that wanted to know Laith’s whereabouts—Justin must have told the others about earlier. It occurred to him that now he had someone to secretly hang out with while the rest of the world slept. It wasn’t even twelve, but the quiet in the apartment let him know that the girls must already be in bed. He tapped on Justin’s contact.
What are you doing right now?
A minute later, a response came.
Business with some very nice people. Why?
Are those people your friends?
Nope, why?
I wanna do something. I wanna party. Let’s hit the DP together.
Nah, I’m not partying tonight. We usually do that on Friday.
We could still hang out tho if you want to, kinda like last time. Just chill out and talk, low-key stuff.
His heart dropped, but only a little bit. That invitation was still a million times better than spending all night by himself.
Okay. Bring me rolling paper.
That’ll cost ya.
Really? I thought we were friends.
This is my livelihood dude. If we’re gonna keep doing this, you’ll have to smoke your own stuff and buy your own paper.
Listen, I’m so cool I won’t even card you. Be grateful for that.
Ugh, he had a point.
Fine. I’ll bring you the money, capitalist.
Thanks friend. :)
Time and place?
I’ll be done around four, four-thirty max. I’ll come see you at the building.
Can we at least round the corner this time? I don’t want the doorman watching me.
Yeah, np. See ya soon.
Soon was an overstatement, but that was just a matter of speaking. While he knew they would only get together to hotbox Justin’s truck and talk about nothing, this was still the most exciting thing he’d done all week and got all dressed up anyway. Yes, there were still four hours to go, but being ready early didn’t hurt.
Forty-five minutes later, he realized just how long four hours actually were. He’d had dinner, done the dishes and watched an entire episode of whatever was on TV. Surely, he thought, that was at least two hours out the window, right? No. Not even close. Why would Justin take so long? Selling weed to a bunch of drunk partygoers shouldn’t take all night.
He clicked the TV off, bored, ready to do something else now. Justin had said he’d have to bring his own weed this time, which was fair, and smoking it all beforehand would defeat the purpose of meeting up at all, so he’d have to find a different hobby. Absently, he checked his phone. Marquis was probably asleep by now and Emily didn’t want to speak with him. What a plethora of friends. He’d die wishing he’d gotten Hwan’s number last Friday.
Outside, it was made evident that summer no longer lingered, too cool to walk around without a jacket now. Warm in his new hoodie, he started walking, this time in the opposite direction of that posh little bar with the rude attendant. He knew Parkside was the closest entrance to his apartment and that Cantaloupe was three blocks away, but he’d never caught the name of this other one, which he’d mistaken for Cantaloupe the first time. It wasn’t far, and a few minutes later, he could already hear the conversations that rats had near it.
The sign on the railing was a little difficult to see, hidden behind so many pairs of legs, but he managed to catch the name—Kings. Next to it was a little map of all the lines and where they met, or where they would’ve met, had the tracks actually been finished. The tunnels still intersected, no doubt. Kings was on top of a short red line that met up with blue and orange on one end and kind of disappeared near the other end. Was this entrance red, then? If the Alvorada was orange and the Poison Darts were green, were the Gorgons red? Unless there were more factions that he didn’t know about, that was what he could put together.
For the first time ever, no one really stared at him. Did he finally look like one of them? In a black hoodie and some black jeans, yeah, probably. The thought made his heart soar, chest full of confidence.
Okay, time to test his theory; if he went near the entrance, no one should notice. At Cantaloupe, he’d gotten stares all the way through, even if no one had spoken to him. Here, he managed to slip through the crowd and stand by the stairs with only a few glances thrown his way, not actual stares. Holy shit, he was finally invisible. He was finally one of them. It bore noticing that these guys didn’t look nearly as wild as some of the others, which was probably why he fit in. In Cantaloupe, people’s heads were shaved, tattoos were aplenty and piercings were everywhere, while here, the most he could see were black clothes and studded bracelets, like a vanilla version of the rats that he knew. All in all, this was a massive success. A stepping stone for some, but a huge leap for him.
Pushing his luck, he decided to take a few steps down. It was crazy to be doing this by himself, but the crowd’s acceptance made him far too powerful. He felt like a deer with a fake mane on his head infiltrating a lion’s den. The wildest part was that it totally worked.
Two steps down, he glanced around. People talked and smoked without paying him any mind, so he kept going. At the bottom, he was welcomed with much of the same, except here the rats could lean against the walls while speaking to their friends. The lights that lined the ceiling were white, dim and flickering, but only about halfway into the tunnel; after that, they turned red. The tiles over the walls made the red that much brighter, a creepy voyage into the center of the Earth. Some people glanced at him as he walked past, but it felt absent and unintentional. The further he went, the faster his heart raced, beating out of his chest.
At one point, the tunnel split into two walkways; one that bent to the left and another that turned into more steps leading further down. Bathed in red, that stairway looked absolutely terrifying. Theodore didn’t even know there was another level below the tunnels; no one had ever mentioned it. Was it only a thing in red territory? If so, then Hwan must know about it. Once again, being unable to reach him drove Theodore insane, but it was fine; he could find out for himself.
With a hand on the railing, he leaned over for a better look—red steps disappeared into the dark, the stuff of nightmares. The thought of investigating this sent shivers down his spine. No, absolutely not. Paralyzed with fear, the most he could do was lean back and turn around. Fuck that; he’d just ask Hwan about it later.
The path that led left opened up into a big area, similar in size to Vernon, like an underground village, except this one was lit up red. While the architecture in every other entrance looked very modern, this one had pubs made of logs and houses made of stones, medieval and rustic, handmade. Even the floors had been replaced with cobblestone to simulate a medieval street, with old-fashioned streetlights and benches. The fact that the underground didn’t have any cars definitely helped the illusion; Theodore totally bought it. The only thing that broke the immersion was everyone’s modern wardrobe.
The red neon lights gave this place an incredibly creepy vibe, like the old town where Jack the Ripper was born. Not his favorite. Still, he walked in and wandered around, curious to see it all.
These passageways weren’t very populated, at least in comparison to the other ones he’d been to before. Here, there was plenty of space to walk around, while almost every other station had been full to the brim with thick crowds. Kings felt like a small village in Europe, a completely different place from the city he lived in or the entrances he’d been to. He was on vacation here, a foreigner. The only business fuller than the rest was a big bar with windows lining both walls and a pair of heavy doors. Inside, people drank and talked, sitting in groups, eating off cutting boards; he could see them through the glass. The liveliness compelled him to walk in.
With no one to hang out in a booth with, he ended up sitting at the counter. The first thing that came to mind was the last bar he’d visited and the guy who’d offered him ginger ale. Hyper-aware that he wasn’t old enough to be here, he almost forgot that the laws above weren’t enforced in the tunnels. When the bartender asked him if he wanted a beer, he found himself surprised at first, then promptly remembered all the shots he’d downed at the Dead Ponies without even needing to show an ID. In response, he simply nodded. The woman pulled a glass from under the counter and used one of the beer taps to fill it up. Her shoulder was etched with a very intricate tattoo of a crown.
“Can I ask you something?”
She glanced at him, silent.
“Who owns the red stations?”
Her hand moved to shut off the tap, foam spilling over the rim. The way she held the glass made it seem intentional, over a small grate. “Red belongs to Thrones.”
He’d never heard of them before.
“How many factions are there?”
“Four, if you don’t count the Ponies.” She placed the glass in front of him. “That’ll be three fifty.” Beer pooled at the bottom of the glass.
“Do you know—” he cut himself off as a memory jumped into mind, Marquis referring to Laith as the Great White Shark. People didn’t use his name down here. “Do you know the Great White?”
Their eyes met. She had a small heart tattooed under her left eye, close to the wing in her eyeliner, so black it could very easily be mistaken as part of it. “Not personally, but I know of him. Are you in trouble?”
That question spoke volumes about the kind of work Laith did down here, if it was her first instinct. A nickname like that could never mean anything good.
“I think I’m in big trouble.”
“Sorry to hear it.” A hand wiped the counter with a piece of cloth. “I can’t help you much; this place was paid off before I was even born. My father owns it. Actually, every business around here is paid off; you’ll have to go down a level, where the newer ones are.”
None of that made a lick of sense. What did it have to do with Laith at all? Considering she took Theodore as a rat like any other, asking too many questions would only blow his cover, so he nodded instead, pretending to understand what she meant by that.
“I figured.”
He did not.
“You know, I think you’ll have much better luck somewhere else entirely. Kings is old; I think even the guts down here are clean.”
Oh, he knew the Guts; he’d shopped there before.
“The Guts are nearby?”
The amount of walking he’d done with Hwan and the others had given him the impression they’d been extremely far away from his apartment, though. Strange.
“Which one?” she asked.
That put a gigantic question mark inside his head. Which one? Implying there were more than one?
“We have Kings-Atlantic up north and Kings-Red-bridge down south,” she continued. “No other connections from here; we’re pretty isolated.”
Atlantic and Redbridge, were those stations too? If so, then it sounded like what people called the Guts was just the tunnel that connected those places. It made sense, since he was sure the Dead Ponies entrance he’d gone to with Hwan and the others was super far from here. Embarrassed, he cleared his throat. “Uh, actually, can I have something else?” His face was warm.
In response, the bartender shrugged.
“Do you have, um…” His eyes quickly darted across the wall behind her, looking for the first excuse to change the subject. Alcohol bottles lined the shelves, similar to that posh bar from the other day, except this one wasn’t quite as fancy, given its timey aesthetic. Directly behind the bartender was a plastic display case with cigarette packs locked inside it, of varying brands and colors. One of them was familiar, a black pack that had the outline of a camel on it, the kind Laith smoked. It made his heart race.
“Can I have the pack with the camel?”
As the woman turned around, he realized that there were multiple packs with camels on them, but only one was black.
“Uh, the black one.”
The woman simply got him the pack and placed it by the beer with no interest in carding him. His eyes widened, set on gold.
“That’ll be five fifty-five.”
Her voice was static in the back of his mind, overridden by suffocating eagerness. With his eyes glued on the pack, he grabbed it and immediately tore the wrapping off. On autopilot, his hands brought the cigarettes close to his face, lungs breathing deeply. The scent of tobacco was present, of course, but very lightly, dismissible; it needed to be far stronger than this. Still acting out of instinct, like a starving man in front of a feast, he stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit it, though no part of him actually wanted to smoke it. For that reason, he didn’t puff, just held it in his mouth while breathing in the smoke, eyes fluttering shut.
A flood of memories rushed in, snapshots frozen in time. First, a picture of Laith on the porch, swallowed by the dark, hair flowing with the breeze that shook bushes and trees alike. In sequence, a vivid memory of him standing on the balcony outside, observed by Theodore through the sliding door. They’d argued a moment before, stupid disagreements about Ryan, stuff that didn’t even matter—his heart ached. After that, a snapshot of Laith from a whole month ago, when he’d first visited Theodore’s building. He’d leaned against the gates waiting for the girls to come out, cheeky, pretending he couldn’t see right through Theodore. You’re never in love with who someone really is, only who you think they are. Did he know who Laith really was?
Promptly, his mind moved on to a different memory, of Laith’s shaky hands trying to light a cigarette, legs walking fast. He’d just run into Henry and received the kind of treatment usually reserved for Ryan when he misbehaved. Then, a moving picture of Laith in Theodore’s old bedroom, tossing the butt of a cigarette out the window. Here’s what the police call hard evidence.
A hand covered Theodore’s eyes, pushing into his eyebrows—he was fucked. Oh god, he was so fucked. His throat closed, heart squeezed tight.
He missed him so fucking much.
“Your total is nine oh five.”
The bartender’s voice cut through his brain like nails on a chalkboard. His eyes pressed hard into his face to suppress the vexation, breath filling up his lungs. Slowly, he brought his hand back down and pulled his wallet from the kangaroo pocket. A palm slammed a ten-dollar bill on the counter, frustrated and unhinged, something he’d never done before. It was impolite to let his emotions show; that was what his mother had told him. He regretted it immediately.
Unable to meet the woman’s eyes, he quietly took the pack from the counter and left the establishment entirely.
***
There was a rock in his stomach, heavy yet hollow, where the chagrin that burned his cheeks and closed a knot around his throat nestled.
He was an idiot.
This whole time, he’d been playing with fire, telling himself it was fine, that he was just having fun, that it didn’t mean anything and he didn’t even want it to. Maybe it’d all been true in the beginning, before Laith had touched his face and swallowed a sentiment, before he’d bared his chest open and forgotten all about it, if he even had. There was a high probability Laith was just lying to make it easier on the both of them, the one who’d been too drunk to think straight and the one who was too gullible about this kind of stuff, saving Theodore the embarrassment of confessing something he’d regret later. God, he was ridiculous.
A foot kicked the ground, trembling underwater, eyes filled with tears. He hated himself. How many warnings would it have taken for him to finally see it? Emily had specifically told him not to fall for Laith just because he’d been his first. The most he could do now was hope that the hand around his neck would eventually let it go.
He sat on a bench, shoulders hunched over, cigarette hanging from his lips. The worst part of it was that, deep inside, a figment of hope still flickered, that Laith might feel something for him. It wasn’t fair to blame Sherry for it, not when his mind kept going back to the way Laith had looked at him before touching his face, eyes soft with emotion. He’d acted so purposefully, so meaningfully that night that it was impossible to believe he hadn’t been trying to send a message. Its contents weren’t the terrifying part, though; it was the possibility that Theodore had read them wrong, or worse, that he’d read them right. Where would they even go from there? Laith didn’t want to be with him; he didn’t even like him. Daisy had said he needed to know how Laith felt to figure out what to do next, but he had a feeling he already did. He just hoped things wouldn’t change because of it.
***
This time, Justin parked just before rounding the corner, on the side of his building where the doorman couldn’t immediately see them. He could see the truck on the cameras, but not what went on inside it, even if he already knew what that was. Theodore tossed the butt of the cigarette onto the street, burned all the way through, before getting into the front seat. He slammed the door without meaning to, cringing immediately after.
“Sorry.” The apology came out in a mumble, despite how much he’d meant it. Today just wasn’t his day.
“Are you good?”
He breathed in, or intended to, but really just sniffled. His hands shuffled through the contents of his kangaroo pouch looking for the baggie Justin had given him, fingers bumping into it. A loose shrug moved his shoulders in lieu of a reply.
“Were you smoking a cigarette just now?”
That question set his face on fire. Absently, his hands pulled the baggie from the pouch and opened it. “I wasn’t smoking it.” He stuck the roach between his lips and lit it.
Part of him hoped Justin would notice his new lighter and ask about it, but the majority of him knew it’d never happen. Even if Justin did notice, people just didn’t ask each other about such trivial things. It’d be weird. He was only excited because he’d found it, even if that had been in the most likely of all places. Really, he just wanted Justin to point out how much of an adult he was to own a lighter and smoke cigarettes when he wasn’t even old enough to buy them yet.
“What’s going on, dude?” That question was genuine, but he didn’t feel like answering it. Instead, he shrugged again, cherry burning with each draft. Smoke warmed down his throat, filling up his lungs.
Justin moved in his peripherals. “Well.” He cleared his throat. “I brought you the paper you wanted.”
That was the first comment compelling enough to make him turn and fully face his friend, eyebrows up on his forehead. An arm was extended toward him with a few rolling papers delicately pinched between a thumb and a forefinger. He exhaled. “How much?”
“These are on me, but only this time. Don’t argue it.”
“Can I ask why?”
“That would be arguing it.”
A small smile curled the corners of his lips. Shyly, he accepted the offer. “Thank you.”
His response put a much brighter smile on Justin’s face, very handsome. He was very handsome actually, with soft blue eyes and bow-shaped lips. His face was intrinsically masculine, jaw sharp, littered with stubble. If they kissed, how would the stubble feel against Theodore’s face? Would it tickle? Breaking eye contact, he put the rolling paper away.
“I made really good money tonight,” Justin explained, moving next to him. “It’d be stingy of me to charge you for those. Like you said, we’re friends.”
“This is your livelihood, though.”
“Yeah, which is why I’d charge you if what you wanted was significant. I don’t even know if you’re actually gonna pick up smoking or if you’re just doing it ‘cause I gave you a little bit of weed. I just got you enough paper for that baggie. Should’ve given both together, really.”
“How much did you make?”
“That’s not a question you ask people, bro.” Justin’s eyebrows bounced as he lit up his own joint.
Again, Theodore’s face heated up. “Sorry.”
What a fucking idiot.
Justin moved his head a bit, shoulder rising for a half-shrug. When his hand moved away, smoke blew into the cabin. “I made seven grand tonight.”
“That’s two Louis Vuitton purses.”
His comment pulled laughter from Justin’s chest.
“You know what? It really is. Good ones, too.”
“The big ones you could travel with, if you wanted. Carry-ons.”
Justin scoffed. “You’re so weird. That’s your first thought about money? What you could buy with it?”
“I’m a byproduct of capitalism. When you find ten bucks in your wallet, don’t you think you could buy five Pepsi cans with it?”
“I can’t say that wouldn’t cross my mind, but it’s definitely not the first thing I’ll think about. First, I’d probably say, hell yeah, ten bucks! Then I’d think about the Pepsi cans.”
“Right. Me too.”
The wind blew outside, streets completely deserted. Justin’s truck wasn’t super insulated and the heater wasn’t on, but they didn’t need it just yet; winter was a long ways away. Not to mention that, in a hoodie, Theodore was just warm enough, smoke burning in his chest, itchy in his throat. The hand in his kangaroo pocket felt the edges of the cigarette pack.
“You scared me earlier,” he spoke mindlessly, eyes out at the trees that bent and swayed. “I thought Laith was missing.”
“I’m sure he isn’t. He hasn’t said anything in the group chat, but I know it’s because Ryan and Emily keep calling him to know if he’s with you. He blocked Ryan on Monday.”
That put a big grin on Theodore’s face.
“I have a feeling he’s about to block Emily next,” Justin added.
“I didn’t know you guys had a group chat.” He glanced across the partition to see Justin toke on his joint, eyes lazily watching the street.
“That’s where we decide when to meet up and stuff. Not much else goes on, ‘cause none of us is very good at texting. We usually just call each other if we need something.”
“Yeah, I noticed. Emily does that all the time.”
“She’s the one who texts the most, if you can believe it.”
“I can’t believe it.”
Justin grinned. “You know.” Smoke left Justin’s lips, eyes soft with emotion. “We used to stay up talking for hours. My sleeping schedule has been shit for years, and she had classes in the morning, but she’d stay up with me anyway, talking about nothing. We’d call almost every day. Then, when the weekend came around, we’d meet up with the others, and every time I saw her, it was like I was breathing for the first time, like two defibrillators had just revived me. She…” Justin trailed off.
Something in Theodore’s chest twinged. “When did it stop?”
“Recently. Like, a few weeks ago. It was nice having her over to help me with the party, ‘cause we hadn’t talked in a while. I didn’t have anything to say; I just wanted to hear her voice.”
“You’re in trouble.”
A hand lay over Justin’s beanie, elbow resting against the door. “I know. I don’t think this crush thing is dying out just yet.”
The knot in Theodore’s throat choked him, heart beating around the blade of a knife. The urge to say it was stronger than him, a pressure deep inside his chest. His bottom lip trembled. “I think I’m… catching feelings.” He swallowed, eyebrows twisted into a hard scowl. “For him.”
Their eyes met. The hand on Justin’s beanie moved it a bit, red hair sticking out from under it, over his forehead, eyebrows set in pity.
“Shit, Theo.”
He slumped against the backrest. God, he hated himself. He hated how many signs he’d willfully ignored, the self-sabotage that had pushed him down this rabbit hole, the imposter syndrome that had stabbed him in the back. A shiver ran down his body, eyes filling with tears. Not here. Please, not here. He breathed in slowly, eyes up at the ceiling.
“I can’t say I’m surprised, though. It feels like one of those things that are bound to happen anyway. You’re like two trains racing at each other. You just happened to see the crash first.”
“I don’t think I did. I think he pulled the breaks, telling me to do the same, but I didn’t. I wanted to see the crash.”
Justin moved out of sight. “In that case, congratulations. You got what you wanted.”
“I really didn’t. I don’t think I’d be here with you here if I had what I wanted.”
“Yeah?” There was amusement in Justin’s tone, an attempt to lighten the mood. “Where would you be?”
Theodore hummed thoughtfully. “Considering it’s the middle of the week, I probably wouldn’t be at the DP.”
"No, I mean, if you could be anywhere right now, a dream scenario—where would you be?"
"A dream scenario, huh."
His mind immediately placed him in Laith's lap, but that was probably not what Justin wanted to hear. Smoke filled his lungs, eyes out the windshield, thoughtful. He exhaled. "I'd be on vacation in the Bahamas, a five-star resort with everything included. One of those places where people walk around naked and have sex in the pool, you know? A resort for the boys."
Justin laughed. "Right, yeah, for the boys. That's definitely a choice."
"I'd invite you, but I don't think you'd wanna come with me."
"Maybe you could meet me in Ibiza on the way home. It's the same concept but girls are also welcome."
"Oh, I'd never pass on that." He toked on the joint. "Think you'd ever have sex in public? Like in the pool or in a dungeon. You know, where other people are also doing it."
"So the dark rooms in the DP."
"Sure. Would you?"
"Nah, I don't think so. I'm too self-conscious for that. I'm shy even with girls I like."
"I think I'd do it."
Justin stared at him. He didn't have to face him to know.
"To reiterate, I wouldn't be fucking a stranger; I could never do that," Theodore explained.
"No, me neither."
"I'd be fucking someone I know with a bunch of strangers around us. I feel like there would be enough people in the room that no one would care to single me out and watch me specifically, you know? Like, the moment someone stared at me, it'd be over."
"Laith is your best bet for doing something like that. He's in the dark rooms all the time."
"I know, but that's not why I'd do it. I just think it'd be a cool experience, like being in a threesome. I've thought about that a lot."
"A lot of people have. It's a fan favorite."
"Have you done it?"
"Hell no. Bro, I can barely be with one person at a time, let alone two. I think I'd die."
"I wonder how it's all coordinated, like how each one of them knows what to do and when. It feels like it could be very confusing."
"I bet. Someone would have to call the shots."
"I think..." Smoke fogged up the cabin, hard to see. "I'd probably want to be with two bottoms."
"What?" Justin practically choked on the word, shocked beyond belief. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah. I mean, I suck, but I'd feel safer that way. Two guys trying to fuck me at the same time just wouldn't work."
"Are you fucking kidding me? You topped Laith?"
"Yeah, we took turns."
Justin stared at him, wide-eyed.
"On second thought." Theodore touched his chin. "The perfect combination would probably be a top and a bottom, so at the very least, they could fuck each other."
Justin slowly leaned back. "Well." Blue eyes glanced off into the street. "I thought the whole point of it was for both of them to fuck you."
"The point is to have fun, actually."
Justin's shoulders moved up into a sloppy shrug. "I just can't believe you topped Laith. That's a curveball and a half."
"Why are you so surprised? He said he doesn't have a preference. Also, he's been bottoming for Ryan for years."
"Really? Jesus Christ, I thought Ryan was the one getting cream-pied this whole time. Man, I don't know shit."
"What makes you think Ryan was taking it? He's homophobic."
"I don't know; he's such a slut. Guys like that are usually the ones who love cock the most. Plus, he's with Sherry, which really just seals the deal."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"She likes to top. That's what she told me, anyway."
Theodore scowled. That didn’t explain anything. In fact, it only made things more confusing.
"Come to think of it," Justin mused, pensive, "Laith never told me what he prefers. Actually, I can't think of anything that he doesn't like."
"In bed, you mean?"
"Yeah. We always joke about it, but it's like people say, that there's a grain of truth in every joke."
"You think Ryan wants to fuck you, then?"
"Of course. He wasn't joking when he approached me the first time; it only turned into a joke later."
"What about Emily?"
"What about her?"
"All I know is that she has a crush on Laith and is probably also in love with you, but I have no idea if she's ever even been with anyone."
"She has. She dated a couple of people in high school, then quit dating altogether. I’m not sure why, but finding out she has feelings for Laith makes things a little clearer, I guess. Her relationships have never lasted long.”
“You said people instead of men.”
“Yeah. She’s bisexual; I don’t know how that’s never come up. When we hit the DP, we all scatter to hook up and find each other later. It’s what most people do.”
Right, Hwan and the others did that too. The girls did the same, except at parties above ground. Theodore wondered if that was the whole reason they’d been created in the first place, or if that was what they’d ended up turning into.
He felt the length of the cigarette pack along his hand, thumb pushing on the lid. “You said you’re shy, but you hook up with strangers anyway.” His eyes remained fixed straight ahead, though he didn’t pay the street any attention.
“Hooking up doesn’t mean sex. We usually just make out and dance.”
“How can you just make out? Last time I tried, I ended up sucking Laith off.”
Justin laughed. “When you’re surrounded by people, it’s harder to let things escalate like that. I’m assuming you guys were alone.”
“Yeah, but…” He held the pack tightly. “I just don’t know what’s going on with me. He makes me feel crazy.”
Justin shrugged out of sight. “Nothing’s going on; you just have a crush.”
This felt like it was more than just a crush, though.
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