A discussion on ice
I don't understand, don't get upset
I'm not with you
We're swimming around
It's all I do when I'm with you
-- Daft Punk, Instant Crush (feat. Julian Casablancas)
He had to drop by the apartment for his backpack, but since Laith only lived a couple of subway rides from his place, he was able to make it to second period just fine. Even though first period was utterly doomed, he still sat in for the last fifteen minutes of it. He might as well. That was when the professor usually brought up homework and recommended a few book titles, in case students were particularly interested in the subject or thought about specializing in it later on. He didn’t think he’d read any of those books, but still took note of them, just in case. Who knew? He might want to become an expert in statistics later in life. He was pretty good with numbers, after all.
During lunch break, he decided to buy some new notebooks to write on, so he could stop using his old high school ones. Most of them were almost done with, anyway. A quick online search informed him of a graphic design store that sold office supplies just across the street from Gate C. Worried about the time constraint, since the store was pretty much all the way across campus, he didn’t even stop to think about who worked there. He knew Ryan lived and worked nearby, but since they’d never run into each other, that fact lived in the very back of his mind, out of the realm of possibility. Ryan didn’t go here anymore; why should they ever meet?
As soon as he walked into the store, his heart froze and shattered. The door closed behind him with a merry little jingle.
The look Ryan gave him was completely dead. The only emotion in his face was exhaustion, as if he’d been pulling twelve-hour shifts for three weeks straight. It bore wondering if that was how Theodore made him feel, if he was really so emotionally taxing. It hurt to consider that. Ryan’s hair lay flat over his forehead, as if he hadn’t brushed it this morning when he usually pulled all the stops, styling it up every day. As Theodore approached, he noticed the bags under Ryan’s eyes, practically sunken in. His brother had no fight left in him.
“How can I help you?” Ryan asked, flat and joyless.
If this were any other day, Theodore would be getting ready to roast his uniform, how silly he looked in a polo shirt when he absolutely despised them. Today, it just wouldn’t feel right. He approached the counter and cleared his throat. They were the only two people in the store. “Um, I’m looking for a couple of notebooks, maybe a binder. A place to keep my notes.”
“We have these down here.” Ryan pointed down the counter, where a glass panel turned the bottom into a display case with notebooks and pens inside. “As for binders, we have the ones behind me.”
All the cover designs on those notebooks clearly pandered to certain types of people, all of which weren’t Theodore. Some of them were pink with beloved cartoon characters in adorable poses, while others were cars and sports teams. The only normal ones were plain colors. The binders were the exact same too, so he ended up pointing at one of the plain black notebooks and a plain black binder. He could decorate them himself, if he wanted to. Ryan placed both items on the counter, plus a stack of lined paper, and rang him up. He handed Ryan his credit card.
Everything about this interaction was weird, but especially how impersonal Ryan was being with him, acting as if they didn’t know each other. He took the card without a word, punched numbers into the machine, and passed it back to Theodore. The entire time, neither one of them said a word. As soon as the purchase went through, Theodore took the card back while Ryan slipped his things into a plastic bag. He took it with a tight knot in his throat.
“When are you leaving town?” he asked, lingering by the cash register.
“I don’t know.” Ryan kept his eyes down, hands moving behind the register. Theodore couldn’t see what for. “I might stay for a while.”
I thought you felt suffocated near me. Isn’t that why you wanted to skip town in the first place?
He swallowed around a lump, nodding. Part of him crushed his chest while the other closed his hands into fists. What could he even do? Every time the two of them interacted, it felt like he was trying to build a castle on the dry corner of the beach, sand running through his fingers. No matter how hard he tried, he never got anywhere with his brother. Actually, he’d only managed to push Ryan away. “I’d like it if you stayed,” he confessed. His voice was small, cheeks burning.
Ryan gave him the most emotionless look he’d ever received. “Thanks for shopping with us. Have a nice day.”
That felt like a plastic bag wrapping around his head. The message was loud and clear, even if he didn’t like to hear it. He’d known it forever. Without a word, he turned and left the store.
***
In the cafeteria, he managed to find the girls and take a seat at their table. The interaction with Ryan had left him pretty numb, without the smallest impulse to eat, but he knew he should at least try to have something, since he’d left without breakfast. The girls all spoke while he nibbled on a sandwich, eyes down at the void in his mind, body aching and sore. He felt like shit. It wasn’t even a physical thing; he’d been fine a minute ago, dragging his ass across the subway system. The damp blanket Ryan had thrown over him had not only sunk his heart, but made the regular, everyday tiredness feel like total fatigue. Suddenly, he was fifty pounds heavier and just wanted to go to bed.
Tuning on-again, off-again into the girls’ conversation, he caught part of a discussion about Jessie’s plans for tonight. Apparently, she’d worked out a time with Justin and would actually go down to see him. From what Theodore could tell, she had every intention to fuck him in that truck. The girls all seemed very excited and proceeded to give her suggestions on what to wear; cute jackets, tights and hoodies for the cool weather they’d been having. That level of interest seemed a little out of place, since Theodore was pretty sure Jessie—and everyone else here—had sex all the time. What made this hookup different? It was true that Jessie and Hannah never made plans for this stuff, just hooked up with strangers at random parties. Still, that was all he could find; she didn’t mention being in a relationship or dating Justin at all. The promise of an interesting night must be enough to look forward to. That he could understand.
At one point, the conversation turned to him and how his night had gone. Not wanting to be too graphic, he instead told them about the drag queens, the hot guys at the gym and how kinky those girls were. To his surprise, he didn’t end up needing to explain anything about that; everyone here was already familiar with the concept. It made him feel a little dumb for being the only one confused by some of it, but all in all, it saved him time.
The girls’ curiosity came from the fact that Laith was friends with actual drag queens. It was mind-blowing to them that drag queens were an accessible friend group rather than their own exclusive club. Theodore was sure they had their exclusive club anyway, but also hung out with their hot neighbor from time to time. That seemed to be the hook that had pulled them in—how hot Laith was. It explained why they weren’t friends with anyone else in their building.
No one explicitly asked him how it’d been with Laith last night, so he decided not to say a thing about it. That wasn’t the kind of information anyone here needed to know.
***
The ache in his thighs never left him, present at every breathing moment. If he didn’t move in his seat too much, he could forget about it and focus on the lecture for a while, but as soon as he got up, he was reminded of what had happened the night before. It was awkward, to say the least. He couldn’t think of an instance where he’d spent so long thinking about Laith’s hands on his body, thighs spread apart. Every few minutes, he came back to it, struggling to stay focused. Part of him loathed how easily his cock stirred, at half-mast pretty much the entire time, legs bouncing under his desk, pen tapping on lined paper. His legs really didn’t help; all they did was evidence the soreness in his muscles, how spent he was, how thoroughly Laith had worn him out.
The other part of him, for as horrible as this was, kind of liked the secrecy, the idea that no one around him knew what he was thinking about. It was a terrible dichotomy that hit him in waves of shame and excitement, made worse with his prolonged exposure to the public. The moment his last period was over with, he shoved all his things into his backpack and left the classroom.
He really thought he’d get home, hop into bed and fall asleep with no issue, like he usually did, but the problem was that he wasn’t tired. Not physically. He’d slept through the night before just fine; the reasons why he didn’t feel good had nothing to do with the amount of energy left in his body. As it turned out, there was plenty left.
He tossed and turned in the partial dark, unable to drown out his thoughts, thighs trembling with exertion. The silence opened a floodgate straight into his brain, and addicted to what Laith had done to him, he couldn’t help reliving it, the sting of the paddle and the fingers that had pushed in. His cock throbbed with the mere thought.
A hand came down to grab himself over his boxers, holding his cock with no grander plan in mind. He could barely think; the only things that occurred to him were images and feelings, memories of what had happened earlier; Laith on top of him, pushing inside, holding their hips together. The ache in his muscles, how his thighs had hurt every time Laith had thrust against him. The weight of Laith’s body, heavy enough to suffocate him if he’d wanted to.
He thrust into his own hand, absently, barely even there. It was an instinct more than anything else. As soon as he did it, he imagined his hand belonged to Laith, that he was pushing into Laith’s palm instead. If he was here, what would he do? Would he grab Theodore where it hurt, would he make it worse? He’d said he wouldn’t hit him for a few days, but that didn’t rule out other ways to hurt him.
With his eyes closed, he pictured Laith walking into his room, watching him touch himself. There was a smirk on his face, subtle but present, that gave shape to the delight and the scorn that brewed with Theodore’s utter incompetence at getting himself off. The real Laith didn’t know, but this Laith knew that he didn’t like doing it alone, that he felt weird about it, awkward. Laith was way better at it, anyway. Everything was better with him.
He slipped that hand into his boxers and stroked, picturing Laith kneeling between his thighs just how he’d done on Sunday morning. That felt so long ago now, the way Laith had folded him up and fucked him into this mattress. Then, later, the hand in his hair and Laith’s cock all the way down his throat. Then, even later, the awakening of something deep inside as Laith had spanked his ass. My god, had they done anything but fuck these last couple of days? Jesus.
He pictured Laith jerking him off, leaning over him with a hand on the mattress. That made things much easier for him; it set his blood on fire and rose heat into his face, eyes screwed shut. He bit his lip, wrist working fast, lungs nonfunctional. Laith spoke to him in the same vicious way he’d done on Sunday night, calling him names, shedding light into his degeneracy, how surprised he was that an innocent guy like Theodore got off on such depraved, dirty shit. So he wanted Laith to hurt him, hit him, beat him up? How fucked up, how obscene. He pictured Laith grabbing his face and holding him down, mouth muffled under his hand, head pushed into the mattress. He panted.
As he got close, scrambled thoughts flashed through his mind, every climax they’d ever had together, shots of cum hitting him in the face, Hwan and Marquis fucking on top of him. His brain quickly switched Marquis for Laith and pushed his legs far apart so imaginary Laith could fit between them. Imaginary Hwan grabbed Laith’s hips and thrusted into him, lurching him against Theodore, practically fucking Theodore through him. He pictured Laith’s face, bottom lip seized between his teeth, eyebrows furrowed hard.
What would Laith think about that? He’d hate it, of course; there wasn’t a single part of him that felt even remotely affectionately toward Hwan. He’d never let Hwan touch him like that. What would he think, then, if he knew Theodore was getting off to it? He’d call him sick. Both of them would call him sick for even thinking it up. Ironically, that would be the one thing they’d agree on. Would it bring them closer together?
In his mind, Laith leaned up so Hwan could land a kiss square on his mouth. No, it’d never happen; they’d first curse him out than do anything like that. Hwan’s lips shaped around the word freak as Laith called him a degenerate. That was more than enough to push him over the edge with a strangled noise and an ache where his thighs met his hips. He breathed laboriously, eyebrows drawn into a scowl, cum dripping down his fist.
It was much easier to fall asleep after that.
***
He hadn’t set an alarm this time. That only occurred to him when he checked his phone for the time and saw the number twelve staring back at him. Still too groggy to make sense of that, he caught sight of the text notifications and unlocked the screen to check them. A few were from Justin while one was from Emily. Since Justin was still texting him, with new messages coming in, he tapped on that first.
Okay first of all I’m sorry.
Like I AM sorry but I’m not sorry, you know? I’m not sorry cause I really like her and she’s amazing but I am sorry cause she’s your friend and there are rules about this kinda stuff. I mean, just look at what happened between Ryan and Laith.
I get that their sitch is different cause you’re his brother and that’s way worse but maaaan… I don’t want you to be mad at me!
I really like you!!!!!
Listen listen. She’s a queen okay? And I tried to treat her like one I promise. I had every intention to put the seats down and turn on the heater and stuff. I even drove round back for privacy. I brought blankets for the windows!!!!
Theodore blinked a few times, staring blankly at the texts that just kept coming.
Look, I’m not a snitch but she’s the one who didn’t want to cover the windows up or put the seats down or anything, alright? I know she wouldn’t misrepresent me but I just need you to know that. I came prepared. I was ready to take her somewhere nice too cause hey, not every girl is down for something like that, but she said she wasn’t above it, so.
Bro I came with cash in hand jic the motel didn’t take credit.
I have to say she surprised me tho. Like I wasn’t expecting that at all.
She’s like a tornado. She messed me up and left me crazy and all I could do was watch and let it happen cause there’s no stopping someone like that. I didn’t want to anyway but you know what I mean.
Oh god is that tmi? I don’t want to scare you off.
His fingers moved over the keys.
Justin.
He blinked very slowly.
It’s twelve in the morning. Didn’t you just sleep with her?
Yeah. I was driving back home but I couldn’t stop thinking about you so I pulled over to text you and get some coffee. I don’t want you to be mad at me.
I’m not mad at you. Why would I be mad at you? Jessie and I have nothing between us.
I just don’t want you to feel like I’m using you to get to the girls or something. You’re my friend and I care about you a lot and I don’t want you to feel like I don’t!
Dude, I know that. It’s fine.
I’m glad you like her and that it all worked out for you guys. I mean, you’ve been needing that, right? You couldn’t even remember your last nut.
Yeah yeah sure. That’s really neither here nor there but yeah ok.
I can’t believe your very first thought after busting one was me. You must like me a little bit. :)
I do!!!!!! I like you a lot!!!!!!!!!
His heart swelled. If only Laith were that direct.
Promise we’re good? I don’t want things to be weird between us.
Hey, you can fill Jessie up all you want and we’ll still be friends, I promise.
You really didn’t have to say it like that but yeah that’s good to know. I feel much better now. I’m buzzed up and ready to hit the road!
I love you bro.
His pulse skipped. No, Justin didn’t mean it like that; this was a guy thing, not a gay thing.
Love you too dude.
He’d never said that to anyone outside his family. It was weird to think that the first person to hear it was Justin when he’d almost said it just yesterday. His blood ran cold with the memories, how close he’d been, practically choking on those words. My god, what would Laith have thought? Would his eyes have shot open, would his mouth have curled with disgust? Under different circumstances, in a different lifetime, would he have said it back?
He decided to no longer think about that. Instead, he opened Emily’s text.
I don’t know if Ryan told you or if you even care, but he’s not skipping town. For a while, at least. It might not be the case forever. Anyway, I promised him we’d hang out on Friday. Do you remember the schedule I mentioned? If you wanna party this weekend, Justin and I can see you on Saturday.
Did Justin know about that? Before answering Emily, he hopped back to Justin’s chat window.
What’s this thing about seeing Ryan this Friday?
He’s not doing well… I’m sure you remember what happened. We’re hanging out on Friday to help him feel better.
Saturdays are reserved for Laith tho so we’ll probably see each other then. I mean you two are pretty much a combo deal now.
How interesting. Was he an afterthought because of his proximity to Laith—an unavoidable guest who’d show up anyway; Laith’s plus one whether the others liked it or not—or did Emily actually mean to invite him? He wondered if Laith knew about it too and if he’d agreed with the others about Theodore crashing the party. Saturdays were reserved for Laith after all, not him. It would still have been nice to be invited, though, but he wasn’t one of them. Obviously, invitations were for friends only.
Leaving both chats on read, he got out of bed.
***
Laith’s apartment building was always noisy. His neighbors never gave it a rest, arguing with each other on every floor, in every hallway, while others came and went, talked by the stairs and gathered in the corners. That was probably why the queens liked this place so much; the liveliness gave them something to gossip about. Theodore wouldn’t be surprised to find out they knew everyone’s darkest secrets without knowing any of their names.
This time, part of the commotion could be attributed to the queens themselves. Their laughter echoed down the hallway, growing louder as he covered ground. He couldn’t make out their conversation, though, too quiet to eavesdrop on, discussed between bursts of roaring laughter.
He’d recognize Laith’s voice anywhere.
His gradual approach evidenced the group’s exact location, in Ms. Intervention’s apartment, where the door had been left wide open. That seemed to always be the case. Instead of inviting himself in, which would be beyond inappropriate, Theodore only poked his head in.
This apartment had the same layout as Laith’s, with a bathroom on the right and a small kitchen in the back. However, the way Ms. Intervention had decorated it gave it a completely different look. In the foyer, she’d pushed a console table against the leftmost wall under a round sun-like mirror. Underneath it were a couple of decorative vases, big enough to kill somebody with. He was sure that was the reason why she’d got them. The floor was covered in a light blue carpet, brighter in certain spots where a neon sign shone. All the overhead lights had been turned off, leaving only this sign on, hanging on the same wall where Laith, in his apartment, had mounted a TV. Theodore couldn’t read it from the doorway. Under it was a rectangular loveseat where the queens both sat and a corner table with empty beer cans on top. The bed had taken the same place as Laith’s, directly in front of the sign. He sat on the edge of the mattress, the only one with a decent view of the doorway, bathed in pink and violet.
As soon as Theodore poked his head in, Laith spotted him. “Theo! Hey, come in,” he said while beckoning him with a hand, head nodding to the rest of the room. “We’re talking about old Hollywood stars that might possibly have been gay.”
“How topical.”
The queens both laughed. Their skins shone violet under the sign, hair neon pink; the room was bright where they sat and dark near the edges. They both sparkled; D’angela had stars on her eyelids and Ms. Intervention had sequins on her dress, mesmerizing to watch.
Theodore walked in tentatively, staring at the glow over Laith’s jacket, shirt catching the light in geometrical patterns. That got his attention, since Laith never wore anything that wasn’t plain black. The carpet muffled his footsteps as the three continued their conversation, speaking of old-sounding names that he didn’t recognize. Approaching the bed, he was able to read the sign on the wall—I’m your expensive taste—with hearts floating up and a burning flame next to it. Close to Laith, he noticed that his shirt was covered in small triangles.
“Get him a beer, will you?” Ms. Intervention spoke with her eyes set on Laith, hand waving the air. Her rings shone and her bracelets rattled.
“Yes, queen.” Laith hopped off the bed.
“Oh, get me another one,” D’angela called.
Laith walked the three or so steps toward the kitchen.
“Go on, take a seat.” Ms. Intervention referred to Theodore next. Her back leaned comfortably against the couch, legs crossed at the knees, covered in sequins all the way down. Aside from the corner table, which was littered with empty beer cans, Theodore also noticed a trashcan almost full to the brim with more of them, placed next to D’angela. She sat on one of her legs, in booty shorts and a loose t-shirt. Were they… drunk?
Theodore didn’t have time to sit down before Laith was back with a can for each of them. As the queens thanked him, he reclaimed his seat and opened a new one himself, foam threatening to come out. The sight shocked Theodore, hands cold around the can. Hadn’t Laith stopped drinking? Wasn’t he on prescription? Theodore couldn’t move.
The three talked and joked, but he couldn’t focus on anything they said. His ears were stuffed with cotton, the home of a sharp ringing that shook his skull and drowned out every sound as he watched Laith down his beer like it was water. Under the ringing was a scream.
He slowly placed his can on the bed and excused himself. Out in the hallway, he grabbed his phone and opened Emily’s chat window.
I thought Laith had stopped drinking. Isn’t he on prescription?
Before she even had time to read that, he followed it up with something very important.
Please don’t call me. I’m within earshot.
Hey.
Yeah, he has a prescription for Xanax, but he was only on it last weekend.
Xanax? What the fuck did Xanax do?
Don’t people stay on those for a while? Months?
I don’t think you know how he works. He’s had these pills forever, but he hasn’t been on them.
Except for last weekend.
But I thought—he erased that message and started over. You mean they’re the same ones since the hospital.
No, I mean it’s the same prescription.
That’s what I’m saying. Like he hasn’t gone to Fred for a new one.
He hasn’t seen Fred in a while.
If you thought he’d gone back to therapy, I don’t blame you. When he brought up the pills, I thought the same thing too, but no. That’s his old prescription.
So he’s not on it all the time.
No, only when he wants to be.
What the fuck did that mean? Did he take it recreationally?
I thought he was better. That he stopped seeing Fred because he was better. If that’s true, why would he be on his old prescription again?
Maybe you should talk to him about it.
Why would he only take it for a couple of days and then stop?
Don’t ask me.
Is he still on it?
Jesus Christ, Theo.
“Theo?” Laith’s voice startled him to such an astronomical degree that his phone jumped from his hands and his breathing ceased. Luckily, his phone didn’t fly too high up and landed safely in his hands. He hoped that, since he had his back turned, Laith hadn’t seen any of that.
Before turning around, he forced a smile. “Yeah?”
“Do you wanna hang out? It’s chill if you don’t. I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“No, I do, I just—” He cocked his head aside at a perfect loss for words. His smile quickly turned sheepish, hands clutching his phone to his own chest. “Maybe we could have dinner first?”
“Yeah, sure.” Laith walked back to Ms. Intervention’s door and popped his head in. “Hey, we’re grabbing something to eat. You want anything?”
“Where are you going?” D’angela asked.
Laith turned back to Theodore and repeated the question, as if he hadn’t heard her from two feet away.
“Um, I don’t know. A burger joint.”
Laith turned back to D’angela and repeated the answer. He must be absolutely plastered.
“Get me some fries,” D’angela ordered.
“And a diet Coke,” Ms. Intervention added.
“Alright.”
With a quest to his name, Laith followed Theodore down the hallway.
***
It was only under the overhead lights of the burger joint that he realized Laith’s shirt was black, after all. The triangular pattern was made of a shiny kind of material, also black, that only appeared if light shone over it. Fancy.
They put their orders in at the counter—a burger, a medium Coke, two medium fries, a large Diet Coke and a large Irish Coke. Theodore had no idea it was possible to order something with alcohol mixed into it. This wasn’t a bar.
“There’s no law enforcement down here,” Laith explained, pulling what looked like poker chips out of a pocket. “Any business can sell alcohol, no license needed. That’s why no one cards you at the DP.”
“So a middle schooler could order an Irish Coke.”
“I’d like to see them try,” the cashier cut in.
That comment pulled laugher from Laith’s throat. “I mean, yeah, they could. It’s up to the business owner to decide if they’re actually gonna serve this kid.”
“I’’ve never seen that happen,” the cashier added. “Teenagers usually get a pass, though.”
“True. Thanks, Kasey.” Laith turned to cross the establishment for one of the booths near the wall. On the way, Theodore kept his eye on the cashier to make sure they wouldn’t listen to this next part, or they’d think he was stupid. As soon as the guy turned around, he spoke.
“Why did you pay with poker chips?”
“That’s our currency. We get paid in chips. Credit cards and dollar bills are a surface thing. You pay with bills and people know you’re not from here.”
Huh. For a second there, he almost thought Laith had a gambling problem too. They slid into opposing seats, across from each other. Laith leaned back, shirt gleaming under the light, a slither between the breasts of his jacket.
“So, I had a pretty good day,” Laith started. “Didn’t see the dogs or anything; that’s always a plus. Out of all the visits I made, only one couldn’t pay up, which is rare. When I got back, the girls decided to come to the gym with me again—you’re putting ideas into their heads. Even Ms. Intervention hit the treadmill a bit. They missed you, especially at the gym, but I told them you’d probably come around later. I wasn’t wrong.”
Laith was clearly drunk. His speech wasn’t slurred and his walk wasn’t yet affected, but the way he talked, speaking of himself when he never did, gave it away entirely. He grinned wide, happy and talkative, eyes bright.
Theodore’s unimpressed silence prompted him to continue.
“I saw your dad, by the way. He’s very pleased with how well you’ve been doing, following his orders and staying out of trouble. Obviously, I told him you’re behaving. That you don’t go out at all. He gave me two hundred bucks. What can I buy you with that?”
Theodore ignored the question. “You should come up with something else or he’ll start to doubt it. Next time, tell him I tried to sneak out, but you caught me just in time. Tell him you made me stay in; that way he’ll think you’re useful.”
Laith cocked his head, eyes up with his thoughts. “Okay. Do you think I should do it just once or more often? Like, maybe once every few days.”
“Um, probably when there are actual parties going on. You could say I tried to go to Streisand’s on Friday or some other place on the weekend. You know, when we actually go out and do stuff.”
“That makes sense.”
“With time, stop mentioning it, so he thinks I’m improving because of you. Make it crystal clear that you’re important and actually doing stuff.”
“I don’t know if I can brag to your dad. That’s like—that’s lying.”
“You brag all the time about everything. You’ll be fine.”
Laith laughed. “Okay, but not to your dad! That’s different. When I go in and he’s there, I’m not really lying. I tell him you were good that day—or that weekend—and I say it confidently ‘cause it’s true. You’re a good guy; you do stuff from the heart. I just don’t know if I can say you’re that way because of me. It wouldn’t be true at all.”
“Just fucking lie.”
“No, I’ll find a way around it. I’ll think of something, like maybe I’m a good influence ‘cause I’m a cautionary tale or you see me as one. Maybe you’re doing well ‘cause you want him to know that and I’m the messenger. Maybe—”
“Tell him if it wasn’t for you standing in front of my building late at night, I would’ve gone to Streisand’s. That you’re the only reason I didn’t go.”
“Yeah, but that’s not really true, is it?”
They held the stare.
“I’m hanging out with you, right? If I wasn’t, where do you think I’d be right now?”
“Uh, at home, I guess.”
“Wrong. I’d be getting high with Justin or grabbing a drink with Hwan, but I’m perfectly sober here with you.”
Laith thoughtfully touched the bracelet on his left wrist. “I offered you a drink two minutes ago.”
“It doesn’t matter; I didn’t have it.”
The cashier walked over with their orders, placing a tray in front of Theodore and a to-go bag in front of Laith, which probably had D’angela’s fries in it. He also placed a cup-holder with the two large Cokes in it and left. This was a small business; the sitting area wasn’t nearly big enough to warrant any servers. Plus, it seemed that most people ate at the counter anyway.
Laith unwrapped a straw, stuck it into one of the large Cokes and sampled it. The face he made implied it was the wrong one, so he put it back, pulled out the straw and stuck it into the other cup. Most people would’ve made that face while drinking the Irish Coke, but not him. He drank in massive gulps, the way he always did when alcohol was involved, eager to get as drunk as possible, as quickly as possible. That brought to mind the beer he’d started before Theodore had left. By the time he’d come to the hallway, had he already finished it? Theodore watched him with a lump in his throat, heart jumping into the roof of his mouth.
A moment later, Laith brought the cup back down. “How was your day? Did you make it in time for class? I have a feeling you’ve been missing some of them ‘cause you haven’t been setting any alarms.”
“I made it just fine.”
“Really? Your internal clock must be incredible. It’s easy to lose track of time, especially down here; that’s why we have so many signs that tell the time. Have you noticed that? Some signs outside have deals written on them, scrolling left to right, followed by the time. Inside, stores and restaurants usually have a clock on the back wall. Look.” Laith pointed at a big neon clock above the cash register, digital numbers bright pink.
In response, Theodore simply nodded.
“The chairs in my tattoo parlor all face the clock. It’s right above the window, so you can people watch and know exactly how long you’ve been there. Do you think that’s a type of torture?”
“You’re being poked with needles the entire time. I feel like you know the answer to that.”
“The needles aren’t so bad; what really matters is where they’re hitting you. If it’s over a bone or somewhere sensitive, then yeah, it’s torture, but most places are fine. The arms and legs are good starters, ‘cause they don’t hurt.”
Theodore nodded again, keeping his silence.
While Laith picked up his cup again, Theodore glanced down at the sandwich in front of him, neatly wrapped over the tray. He wasn’t really hungry. Realistically, he knew that he was, but the anxiety that bounced his legs under the table killed any other feeling, disinterested in doing absolutely anything that didn’t involve Laith’s on-and-off medication mixed with alcohol. Couldn’t that kill a person? He pulled his phone out for a quick search.
First, he found out Xanax was a kind of anxiety medication. Then, he found out taking it with alcohol wouldn’t kill anyone straight away, only make the side-effects of the medication, as well as the alcohol, worse. It seemed that, for it to actually kill, both would have to be ingested in great quantities. With how heavily Laith drank, it wasn’t hard to believe he’d end up back at the hospital if he popped a few pills during the night.
“What kind of stuff are you learning in business school?”
He put his phone down. God, if there was one subject he didn’t want to talk about, it was this one. He should probably bring something up then, a different topic that would invalidate Laith’s question and change the course of this conversation forever, but what? Oh. “I saw Ryan today.” There, that was a good one. “He says he’s not skipping town just yet. Did you know that?”
“I figured. He blocked me, so.”
Huh.
“I thought it was the other way around.”
“It was, until I unblocked him and found out I still couldn’t text him. It doesn’t matter; I’ll find new people to hang out with. I’ll make some new friends. I really don’t care.” Laith’s shoulders bounced in an attempt to illustrate his point, but they weren’t committed enough for that. Despite the carelessness of his words, nothing in his body actually corroborated that feeling; his eyes were downcast and his eyebrows furrowed. His lips almost even pouted.
“Except you do care,” Theodore interjected. “You care a lot. You wish you were still together.”
“Sure, but what can I even do? I’ve made my choice. Don’t take this the wrong way—I don’t regret it—but I wish I didn’t have to choose at all. It just sucks, you know? He was my friend.”
“He was a terrible fucking friend.”
“He saved my life.”
Theodore crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. So Emily wasn’t the only one who put Ryan up on a pedestal for that, huh. There was nothing he even wanted to say in response.
“We were pretty close,” Laith continued. “Guess I just miss him, is all.”
“Don’t worry; I’ll start bullying you, so you can feel like he never left.”
Laith scoffed out a laugh, lips stretched into a smile. Without a comeback, he brought his cup for another sip.
“He’s seeing Justin and Emily on Friday, you know. They’re partying without you.”
Dark hair swayed with a nod, hand setting the cup back on the table. “Yeah, I’ll have to find something else to do. They’ll be at the DP, so we should probably not go there. There are a bunch of other clubs around, though; it’s not like we’re out of options. They’re all the same.”
“Assuming I’m coming with you.”
Laith stared at him. “Do you have plans?”
No, he just wanted to see the look on his face, his big puppy eyes, desolate and round, lips parted with surprise. What a sight.
He grinned. “Of course not, but don’t take my presence for granted. Invite me, at least.”
“Oh.” A smile tugged at the corner of Laith’s lips. “Do you wanna party with me this Friday? We’ll make some friends and have some fun. We’ll forget we even knew Ryan at all.”
“I’ve been meaning to do that for years.”
Laith grinned, eyes dropping to his cup. He pulled the lid off and brought the cup up, not for a sip, but to eat a mouthful of ice. It crunched loudly.
“I didn’t know you were an ice-eater,” Theodore commented.
“Not really, but this is the good kind.” His speech was muffled by the ice, hand tilting the cup so Theodore could see inside. It was the pellet type. “Small and crunchy.”
They held the stare for a moment. Disinclined to really talk about anything, Theodore decided to just watch Laith munch on the ice, green eyes dropping to the tray in front of him. A hand motioned to it. “I thought you were hungry.”
That comment drew his eyes to his perfectly untouched burger, still wrapped in the restaurant’s logo. No, he wasn’t hungry; he was too worried to be hungry. The only reason he’d asked to come here was because he’d wanted to leave Ms. Intervention’s apartment, not because he was hungry. They could’ve gone anywhere. He’d just needed Laith to be away from alcohol for a moment, but leaving the building hadn’t really changed that after all.
The Xanax that coursed Laith’s veins was the only thing he could think about; it swallowed his mind the same way Laith drank from his cup. He glanced up to find Laith eating some more ice.
“I thought you were on prescription.” There, fuck it; he could no longer keep it in. They had to have this conversation.
Laith crunched loudly, eyebrows furrowed. “That was last weekend.”
He hated how he could hear Emily’s voice through those words, even if she’d only texted them.
“Yeah, people don’t usually get on prescription pills for just a weekend. Sorry for being under the impression you’d be on them for a while.”
“No, it’s an old prescription. I don’t need it anymore; I only take it when things get bad.”
“Please, finish eating the ice.”
The crunching slowly stopped. “I’m not on Xanax all the time,” Laith continued, speaking properly now. “I haven’t been on it for about a year. That’s something my doctor put me on after the hospital. Xanax and some other things; it doesn’t really matter. I’m not on anything right now.”
“What do you mean, you only take it when things get bad? Is that how prescription even works?”
“Yeah. Sometimes, when you’re in a bad place, you need them just to get through the day, but as you get better, prescriptions change.”
“So you only take stuff when you feel like it.”
“No, when things get bad. It’s…” A hand gesticulated vaguely. Laith’s voice dropped for the next part, growing sheepish. “It’s a relapse thing.”
“Are you recovering from alcohol too?”
Laith squinted. “I don’t have an alcohol problem.”
“Are you sure? Because you live in a fucking dumpster. When I first got to your place, there were empty bottles fucking everywhere. It made me so worried I had to clean it up.”
Laith’s face burst into flames, green eyes wide. “I promise it’s not always like that; you just caught me at a really bad time. I told you last week was rough, but I’m fine now. I’ve been fine for a long time. I don’t drink to cope anymore.”
Both queens immediately came to mind, the brief conversation he’d had with them on Monday, how worried they’d been over Laith that week. Then, he remembered what Hwan had said at Atlantic, that a lot of people had seen Laith walk around drunk enough to cause a scene. “A lot of people seem to think you have a problem.”
“I promise I don’t. I can function just fine without drinking, like it’s not destroying my life. These last few days, I didn’t have a single drop and I was just fine. This is the first time I’ve drank since Friday. The girls wanted to have a few beers, so I joined them. That’s all.”
Without anything to say to that, Theodore stared at him. He could feel the worry in the crease between his eyebrows, jaw tense.
“You know, all things considered, I think I’ve been doing pretty well,” Laith continued. “I know it doesn’t look like it and I should probably clean up the apartment a bit, but I’m surprised by how fast I bounced back. That’s never happened before, like it’s always been a huge struggle for me. I know it’s because of you, though. As soon as I fell into the lake, you fished me back out. Crawling out by yourself takes much longer. It’s messier too; you’re covered in mud and keep slipping back in.” Laith touched his metal bracelet again, nails scraping over the links. His voice grew softer for the next part. “I’m glad you’ve been visiting me these last couple of days, you know. It helps a lot.”
Theodore swallowed a lump. “So you really have been doing better.”
Laith nodded.
“Can your psychiatrist sign off on that?”
They held the stare.
“Do you want me to see him?” Laith asked.
“If that’s okay. One session would do; I just really need his opinion on this. It’s not that I don’t believe you, I just—I need something else to help me stop worrying about it.”
Green eyes dropped to the space between them, lost in the light green surface of the table. Laith stared at it for a minute, head slowly beginning to nod. “Yeah, I could do that for you. You do so much for me already.”
Like what? he decided not to ask.
“Thank you.”
His hands moved to unwrap the burger.
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