BEN

"You in?" Andy extends an olive branch as Jules sits curled in the loveseat. It's crazy again how far we've come.

I step down the step to enter, my foot pinches for a second. I push it away. "Rotation?" He perks up at the mention of it, at the way we walk in the room. Cute.

He shortens his "Ya."

His ears blush red when I laugh a little and I've sat down to open the treasure chest. He sits up almost immediately, plants his feet flat on the floor like he needs it to ground him. That's the first hint I get, a little tick. He's chewing on his bottom lip now.

"Good." I nod. He nods. "Where's PJ?" I ask.

Jules shrugs it off. "Painting, I think. He's out in the sunroom. H-he wouldn't wanna join."

"Okay." I'm sure it's true, that Paul wouldn't wanna join but the fact that he doesn't offer is funny. It's another little hint. I realized a while ago that a lot of times his feelings about things would manifest in his outward persona. He's shifty, his eyes are unfocused. I know he's low that day. "Drew's not into ginger, no more."

Drew smiles. It's odd but the fact that the effort of saying his name that way makes him happy... low-key makes me happy.

I nod. Jules looks unimpressed.

"Really?"

"It's a thing." Drew says. He shrugs. "I snore, he hates it." It bugs him, you can see the way his brows knit. "Like talks about it. And he leaves clothes everywhere."

He's surprised that we don't react so he adds extra emotion to it. "Everywhere! In the bathroom, on top of the dryer, in the wash—"

"So you can't live together." Julian says, straight.  "You don't wanna live together."

I shake my head cause that's not it, is it? "He's still in love with JC."

"That's awful." Jules' eyes go wide. It's absolutely the wrong thing to say but doesn't make it any less true.

"Didn't you used to have a dog?" Andrew asks, it's confused, I'm sure it's the first time he noticed there wasn't a little rat yapping around his feet.

Who knew Pomeranians were so much work?

"It's Will's dog now." Jules jokes. It's true, Lady can shit in her house not mine. "Ben was angry cause he couldn't run with her."

It's not the only fact but I was confident that dogs were supposed to be big. My mom got me a purse dog cause Will wanted one and she knew that I'd pass her down once she had a spot to call home.

Cause my mother is always three steps ahead. And loves a good bargain, the dog was 200 bucks and a Red Sox ticket.

Andrew laughs.

"Can I ask you a question?" He throws to Jules.

I can feel myself getting defensive. Andrew's our friend, he's my friend, I don't know why I feel some edge. I block that out, push past it by refocusing on a numbing pain. My head hurts.

"Shoot."

Andy rubs his hands together, cups them over. Seems like he tries to soothe himself. He blurts it. "How did you..." then pulls back, only to ask, "when you moved to Cali, what happened?"

"What do you mean?" It's awkward. Shifty.

"You never mention anything but Wren, honestly." He shrugged but it's only to fake him out, it's a lot in that question but he doesn't want Jules to know that we know. That the thoughts were heavy and he was hurting a lot. "We didn't talk, what happened? You stopped playing?"

"I did fine for a bit..."

"Then what?" I ask. I don't know why I push but I know he buries it every time I ask, it's better if I ask now.

"I-uh, I think I started getting angry a lot first and I skipped a few classes to get extra practice in. And then it was pulling all-nighters and forgetting my meds." Is what he says. It's a lot more detail than he would give us before. "And I stopped doing a lot of stuff."

Andy doesn't know what to say. I just ask, "When did you meet Wren?"

Jules shrugs. "Frat party, after thanksgiving. Right after Paul and I broke up." He smiles a little. "But he says he met me before, a few times, and I kept forgetting his name."

It's fond, weird the defensiveness I feel.

Maybe the silence is too much.

"I don't think about Cali." He states, blows it away when he passes the joint again, I twist it in my fingertips a bit before sending another one around the circle. "That was a weird two years so..."

"Are you better?" The conversation follows where the gas does, Andy's accelerating his line go questioning.

"I am." He says it, I believe it. Jules nods, affirms it for himself. "I've made it through all my bad days so far."

It's true, even if it sounds like therapy talk.

"Good."

It's a few minutes until he speaks again. Or, at least, it feels like it's been. The joint's back between my fingers. Jules smiles, over at Andy. "Oh, do you wanna, um... are you bringing someone to the wedding?"

"Yours?" He asks. I think it reminds Jules that there's no ring cause he's tapping his ring finger.

"My dad's."

"Oh, uh." Andrew nods. Smiles again, this one's deeper. "Yeah, I was gonna bring Bell."

"Your sister?" Jules asks.

"Yeah. She likes weddings. She's good at photo too, should send you an invoice but we're family."

"You're gonna paparazzi his wedding."

I don't know why I speak. "You didn't even think of bringing Gary, huh?"

It's funny, Gary. Like Indiana, how on the fucking nose? "Okay, Ben, do you want me to say I needed a rebound but I started a life with him?" He laughs. "Will that shut you up?"

He looks at me deeper. He's eying me down. I notice how upset Jules is. He frowns, looks down at the joint when it's made its way to him and sparks.

"Tough." He nods, french inhales. I wanna change the subject.

"You should come to the club tonight." It's not the right thing to offer. I know he won't agree.

Jules shakes his head as I expected. Andy's not really had to see it, the off minutes. He doesn't know that there are differences in his mood. I realize then that he's never had to deal with the emotions before. He's probably thinking about living together again.

About Isaiah.

The bad thoughts need to come out not stay in.

I knock my knee into his, try not to wince myself.

Try to forget it's there. It only hurts when I remember. I block it out, the weed helps, I bite my cheek.

"Invite P." I offer. Still, he shakes his head.

"Not really into the idea." He finalizes. It's sad, I don't wanna leave when he's like this but he's standing and breaking the box before I can think to stay home.

He's leaving. "Go, have a good time."

•

Andy's always been my best friend.

Our mom's were in PTA, they didn't really click but we did so we would play GameCube at his house on Saturdays. His sister Bella is three years older but she liked Will.

And sleepovers were had until we were old enough to fall out of habit but my house was always open to him.

Vice-versa.

Andy had long hair as a kid, it never bugged me until he cut it to this weird mullet in the eighth grade.

And his hair looks weird when its too long.

It's hitting his back.

It's annoying, the band tees are annoying cause he doesn't listen to them.

Casper is annoying because all he talks about is Catan and emo bands.

And all Andy does is pretend to like music cause Casper likes it.

Cause Casper wants to go to a concert so we can't hang. We can't hang on Saturdays cause now you play soccer with Casper.

I don't know why it bugs me. Maybe it's being the only child, that's what my mom would say.

Andy's cool though, it makes me cooler. I'm watching how people around him flock. He's a good guy, it's written on his forehead in sharpie.

His punk phase ended halfway through the year and his next friend was Drew Larsen an upperclassman on the soccer team. He started training heavy. We kinda faded a bit.

We reconnected when that ran its course.

"You went shopping?" He asks, he's looking at the new jacket, maybe the new denim. Jules said it would look good together, with the diamond studs.

They actually do.  "I like it." Andy's looking down at the black work boots. "New shoes too." He kicks his foot into mine.

"I should change?" Suddenly it feels like a challenge. "Somebody gon' try and take my shit where we go?" Andrew's stalking closer, he's looking down at me.

He smiles while peering over my head, its annoying, the three inches he has on me.

"No." And he smiles, looking me over. "I like it."

"Okay." I try to put some space between us, "Andy--"

"Drew." He corrects, looks in my eye.

"Why?"

And it looked like he hadn't thought of it before. "I just like it better."

"You remember Drew Larsen?" He had to.

"... Yeah, shit." He furrows his brow, then smiles wide as the Sahara. "Freudian slip, I guess." I didn't know what that meant. "He was my first crush, actually."

It's good that I know him. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Like, I thought about why I even wanted to go as hard as I did, with soccer... it was definitely cause of him. And, you know, I-I fell in love with it. But I did it cause I liked him... And I wanted to impress Julian so I, actually, applied to UCSB."

That was new. Andy laughed. "It's kinda funny now."

"You applied to UCSB?"

"Yeah, didn't get in." He nods. "Good thing, though." I don't know why he'd say that. I don't wanna ask cause if he don't know by now, it's cause he's not supposed to know. Julian is a private person, I gotta respect that. If you can't respect people, how can you meet them where they are?

I wanna say Not actually. Not if you heard how he was.

But I ask, "Okay, you want me to drive?"

"We should get a car."

I lock my jaw, pretend it doesn't hurt when Paul catches me on the way out. I know tequila will numb like novocain and Andy's in arms reach.

•

I haven't looked at anyone but him.

We've been at some sweaty white club and maybe it's the fact that the girls aren't my type but I haven't looked at anyone but Andrew in maybe two hours and it's pissing me off.

It's pissing me off, I know he can feel me during a hole through his skull, I know it and I can't stop it cause the liquor is half my blood. I don't even feel half the pain.

He's not looking at me, but he's got his hand on my waist, it's been there for only a second before he's turning to look at me, slides his hand over the checkerboard table he's leaning on.

He smiles. It's all crooked and doped up.

He's turning to pick some darts off the wall behind up,  stepping up into the box, there's a target board about five feet away. He tosses the set he has until he gets board, tequila keeps me rooted to the floor, watching his arm move up, watching out it shifts his back under the shirt, see the muscle poking through.

He's turning to look at me when he's abandoned the game altogether.

"I fuck." It's weird, hangs in the air.

I don't know what to say to an obvious proposition cause I've been talking to him all day about not wanting that. Now, I want it. I want it more than I thought I would want it but opposite.

I don't know what he means.

"Okay?"

"We're open." He shrugs, maybe he thinks I need that. He's tipping back a beer into a pretty mouth and I can't help but think about what else he thinks he's good at. "Garrett doesn't care. And I just needed to say that I can be whatever you need me to be."

"Drew, you're fucked, dude." It's a lot.

He knows it's a lot, maybe tequila tells him it's fine cause he's leaning in, to whisper into my ear.

"I need t' kiss you." It's needy. "Bad ...I-I know you said no, I know, I-"

"You're horny." I push him away from me, try to force some chill cause he's clearly too far gone. And he's looking at me with stupid dopey brown eyes. And a grin.

"I'm horny." He says. "And I love Johnny."

It's annoying.

He bumps into my shoulder. "And you love Jules... we should be happy too."

I'm kissing him to shut him up.

It's as clearheaded as can be. He's been begging for it. There was something that pulled me in about the lost look in his eyes, and the way he's touching me. He's been holding my waist all night, like that's where he's supposed to be and I've already kissed one friend, so why not?

Until I'm carding my hands through his hair, my body moves without my permission, without me knowing and he's tugging me closer.

Tongues dance across each other, his lips are melting into mine. He's been holding my neck since he pulled me closer and I can feel him on my thigh.

It freaks me out, it doesn't normally freak me out.

I can feel how hard his chest is and how quickly I'm not thinking.

Because Andy kisses like he wants to swallow me whole. Like he'd take me in a heartbeat.

"Um, we-we should go." He stammers. I know it's close, I know it's a lot and that there are people looking. I don't hate people looking, at least it's not about my leg. I don't have space to feel a way about it when Andy's kissing my neck.

"Yeah."

He's tucking a hand into my waistband, pulling me to the exit so quickly, he forgets to close his tab.

"Yeah."

•

"I really don't understand myself." Is all he says.

We're sitting in my room, like we didn't kiss in the club. It's normal, all normal and I decide I like it that way. He's laying back on the bed, brown hair messy, clothed, he's watching my ceiling fan and bordering a mid-life crisis.

It's funny. It's normal, it's us. It's less tense and I can finally tug my fucking piece off. Sit it in the bottom dresser before he notices. My skin throbs where the silicone rubbed all day.

It's quiet and I down the pills Paul's left on my nightstand.

No note but I know he's done it, I know he's put what I need where I can get it and it makes me feel better. Even before the drugs.

I nod, reach for the joint that's been marinating behind my ear the whole day. I twist it over, flick an imaginary lighter and Andy's digging through his pockets.

"Real."

"You okay?" He asks once he's lit the tip. He reaches for it before I even get a chance to puff and I know it's superstitious but it feels hot.

"Yeah."

He laughs, sits up and grabs for the ashtray on his side of the bed. "I cliff dove for you." It comes out with a joint wedged between his teeth. I hear it.

"What?"

"I was terrified." He fills in. "When we went up to Marquette with Denny and them." Speaks through bated breath, clogged with smoke, blows it out and coughs a second, through a laugh. "And you said that's some white people shit but loved it anyways."

It is white people shit, I stand on it, and that Twilight shit was not true to life. I couldn't tell no one but them that I did the shit without clowning. When I look over at him, he's already looking at me. "You're fearless and I-I liked you so I jumped."

"That's pathetic."

He rolls his eyes. "That's yearning."

"You're sick."

It's supposed to be a joke but he's calmer than before.

He's looking at me now, I realize that he's been looking at my lips this whole time. I remember the kiss, it sears into my brain when I think of it and I'm thinking about him. I'm thinking about him now and what him looking at me like that means.

And how I feel about it and what that means and he's just staring.

"I fuck."

"Andrew."

"You smell good." He leans closer to me, plucks the joint out my lips again, dies it out in the ashtray, I don't say something like I normally would. He then leans closer. He lingers two inches from my face. "Let me help you out."

And really, "It doesn't seem like a bad idea right now, man."

"Wasn't a bad idea in the first place." He reminds. And now I'm really thinking about it. Like how bad of an idea can it be? Kissing him was... good. It was.

It was weird, a little but it wasn't bad. It was a good kiss, and it was different than Wren's.

"I don't want it to be weird."

He almost laughs again, it catches in his throat. "Why would it be weird?"

"What if I don't like it?"

"Ben, you're gonna like it." He smiles, reaches to grab my leg, upper thigh, I jump in my skin. I feel it everywhere. And I'm nervous. "If your dick has a say, I'd say, yeah, you're gonna love it."

"Man, I—"

I'm not taking my clothes off, that's not gonna happen. I barely kissed him and now he wants more and that's why I didn't want to kiss him in the first place. Honest to God?

How you lying like that?

"If you don't like it, we stop." He nods. He looks at me in that earnest way he does, moves to straddle me. And it's weird and it's Andy but when I forget that it's him, it's easy. It feels easy and fun and he's touching my stomach now, he's splaying his hands over my chest, and they're so big it makes me nervous.

"But I'm good at it." He states, I honestly would believe it if he wasn't with Johnny for four years. "I'm good at a few things..."

"It can't be weird."

"Never."

"For sure?"

"Ben, it's not serious." He reminds. "Cause we're family."

"Don't say that before you suck my dick."

It's an invitation and he knows it. He smiles, smugly, pops open the button on my pants, tugs at the zipper. "Sure, bro."

"You're sick."

jan. 20, 2025