Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Ty
“Where’s your man?” Collins asked, the four of us sitting in the courtyard outside Adler House. It was an awesome day—sunny and midsixties, everything I loved about living in San Luco.
“He’s at work,” I replied, my heart going a little crazy for no apparent reason. It did that a lot when I thought about Brax or talked about Brax, and…yeah, I wasn’t dumb enough not to know what that meant. I just hadn’t allowed myself to say the words, even in my head. I pretended to be a dumbass because it was easier that way.
“You’re like, really fucking into this guy, aren’t you?” Watty asked.
For a second, I thought about lying, about playing it cool, but I felt like I might burst out of my skin. “Yes. God yes. It’s ridiculous, really. You guys should make fun of me. I would totally make fun of you if the situation were reversed.” My friends laughed. “I’m serious. I think I might…” The words stuck in my throat like I suddenly had the worst case of cotton mouth. “Nope. I can’t do it. You have a booger in your nose.”
Ford gave me the finger, not falling for my change of subject. “So basically what you’re saying is, when we teased you about being in love, it was the truth.”
“I believe you said that, not me.”
“I believe you didn’t argue,” Ford countered.
“Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean anything.” Another round of laughter echoed around us, making even the stoners coming out of Stormer House look over at us like we were crazy. We all knew that meant everything.
“Does he feel the same?” Collins questioned.
I appreciated the fact that they had my back with Brax. It had been rough initially, but since the party and beer pong, they’d been cool.
“First, I didn’t confirm feeling anything. You guys are assuming. Second, I don’t know. We just talk about how gross we are over each other, which means…yeah? Maybe?”
“Can I just say that I’m straight but that being with a guy sounds awesome? You don’t have to admit anything and can just call each other gross?” Ford shoved a handful of chips into his mouth.
“Yeah, but then how do I know if he feels the same?” Shit. I’d asked that question, hadn’t I? I turned around to make sure there wasn’t another me there.
The picnic table got quiet, all of them looking at me like they couldn’t believe I’d asked that either.
“Ha-ha. Just…kidding?”
I tried to stand, but Collins put a hand on my arm. “Nope. You can’t get out of this. You said it, so now we’re dealing with it. We can do this. We can give relationship advice.”
My gaze shifted between my three closest friends. I couldn’t say I was convinced. “I’m not sure that you can.”
“Tell him you love him when you’re fucking,” Watty said. “That’s what they always do in movies and shit. Then if he doesn’t say it back, you can pretend it was in the heat of the moment and…I don’t know, that you really meant you love his dick or his ass.”
I grabbed one of Ford’s chips and threw it at Watty’s head. “That was the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Is it, though? He has a point,” Collins added.
“Shut up.”
“Or!” Ford jumped in. “Write him a letter. Do you love me, and then draw two boxes, one marked yes and one marked no. I’d give it to him for you if you wanted.”
“Fuck yes. Do that!” Watty backslapped him. “Or you can just send me to ask him. I’d take it seriously. I’d be like… It started over dick, but now that doesn’t do the trick. The two of you share so much laughter. Ty wants to be your happily ever after.” He shoved to his feet and threw his arms in the air. “I am the romance king! That was so badass.”
Ford high-fived him, followed by Collins. When he held his hands out for the same from me, I had to give him his props. It actually wasn’t too bad. “You just came up with that on the fly?”
Watty sat back down. “Awesome, right?”
“What about Mr. Romance? You can always contact him for an I love you plan,” Ford suggested. Mr. Romance was a guy on campus who’d, for a fee, plan a romantic date for anyone who wanted help. People who’d used him raved about him.
“I don’t think I need that much help.” I could handle this.
“If all else fails, you can just ask him, seriously tell him how you feel,” Collins offered.
“Not nearly as fun, but it could work,” Ford added.
“I guess I’d support that option too.” Watty winked.
I looked down at the table, drew circles on it. “Thanks, guys. For having my back.”
“We’re your boys. That’s what friends are for,” Collins said. It was, and I was lucky to have them.