"Oh my God."
"It's our fucking apartment, Dimmy. She was fucking some guy in a space we shared."
My blood boiled. "Fuck her."
He chuckled, but it was sad. "So lady-like."
"Seriously, Ty. If that's how she treats you, fuck her."
"I think some asshole already did."
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah. Me, too."
"So what are you going to do?"
"No idea."
"Are you kicking her out?"
"The lease is in her name. I just packed some shit and now I'm sitting on a park bench with two bags and my guitar like an upper-class, street-performing bum."
I snorted.
"Not funny, Dim."
"Sorry."
He exhaled loudly.
"What about classes?"
"I'm done. I don't even have to be here to graduate."
The words were out before I could stop them. "Move in here. We have a spare room."
3
I picked him up from the airport and brought him home. Ethan was fine with him living with us. He and Tyson had always gotten along, so it was never really a question.
Then the awkward moment of which room he was going to have took place. The three of us stood in the hallway, eying each other. It was almost like Logan's room was haunted. Tainted. Ruined.
"Rock, paper, scissors?" Ty asked. He smiled sadly at me.
"You take it," Ethan said to me. It was an order.
"What?" I panicked.
"You have to get over it at some point. This is step one." He walked away.
"Is he okay?" Tyson's eyes moved from Ethan to me.
I shrugged. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know. He just seems . . ." He laughed once. "Older?"
I rolled my eyes. "He thinks he's my dad now."
"Oh," is all he said. He walked into my room—or my old room, now, and I walked into mine. It should have been ours.
***
"When did you get a car?" Tyson flopped down on the sofa next to me. It only took him an hour or so to unpack his bags and move my things to my new room. Logan had emptied out most of his stuff; he didn't have much.
"A couple of weeks ago."
"It's nice."
"Thanks," I replied, not wanting to go into detail. I feigned interest in whatever was on TV. Baseball. Great.
Ty cleared his throat. "Did he pick it out himself?"
My eyes snapped to his.
"Ethan told me," he stated.
"Geez, gossip much?"
He shrugged.
"I don't know. His friends dropped it off . . ." I trailed off, watching his face for any emotion. I couldn't see any, but he looked tired, more mature. He wasn't the lively Tyson I'd known when we dated. The Tyson I knew was a boy; the one sitting in front of me was all man. He'd gotten bigger, more masculine. He’d been a jock most of high school, but in his junior year, he’d decided to focus on his music. He'd always been good at both, but he was amazing with his guitar.
"What?" he asked.
I must have been staring at him. His deep brown eyes bore into mine. "Nothing."
He laughed quietly. "Were you just checking me out?"
"No!" I yelled, and then laughed. It felt so good to laugh.
"I miss that sound," he said.
My lips thinned to a line.
He blew out a breath and rested his head on the back of the sofa. "What the hell happened to us?"
I mimicked his position. "I know, right?"
"Dimmy . . . I'm not saying this to make you feel like shit or anything . . . but do you ever wonder? I mean, do you ever think about where we'd be if we’d stayed together?" He rolled his head to the side and faced me.
I did the same. "Sometimes," I told him honestly.
He smiled, then eyed the ceiling again. "I already miss her."
"Ally?" I sat up, wanting to pay more attention to him.
"Yeah. I shouldn't, right? She's a whore." He grimaced at his own words. "I shouldn't say that."
"It's okay," I told him. "She is. You don't deserve to be treated like that."
"Yeah," he agreed. "Not twice."
I sucked in a breath. His words hurt, especially now. Now that it was all for nothing.
"Sorry." He nudged my side. "That was a dick thing to say."
"You're right, though. You don't deserve that. Not at all, Ty. I hope you know that. You're a good guy, one of the best, really."
He laughed once. "Maybe that's the problem. Maybe I should've been an asshole—worked for Logan. He got the girl."
His words stung. "Did he? Because I'm here, and he's not. So I don't really see how he got the girl."
He didn't say a thing.
Neither did I.
We just sat there, looking at each other.
I heard Ethan walk in and sit on the recliner. My eyes didn't move from their spot.
"Well." Ethan broke the silence. "Aren't you two a party."
"Party," I said.
"What?" they both asked.
A smile pulled at my lips. "Let's have a party."
***
A few hours later the house was filled with the familiar odor of beer, perfume, and sweat. I sat outside by the fire with a soda in my hand. Ethan was next to me, of course.
"You should go have fun. That girl's been eying you the entire night." I jerked my head towards a blonde a few feet away.
He lifted his head and looked at her, but only for a second, before facing me. "Did you invite Alexis?" he spoke over the music.
I nodded.
"And?" he asked.
I hesitated, before telling him the truth. "She had a date."
"Fair enough." He sat up a little in his chair and eyed the girl again. Tyson came and took a seat next to me. "Stay with her," Ethan ordered, then got up and made his way over to the blonde.
Tyson hit my leg with the back of his hand, getting my attention. "I just saw a drunk girl dry humping some guy's leg in the hallway . . . he was barking at her."
I laughed so hard I spat out my soda, causing it to drip down my chin.
"That's so sexy," he teased.
I tried to swallow the remaining amount in my mouth. My eyes stung from the acid building behind my nose.
He moved his hands up and down as if comparing the weight of two things. "Spit . . . swallow . . ."
I spat.
His laugh was a slow build up, a chuckle turned guffaw.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand. His laugh had quieted by the time he leaned closer and wiped my chin with the sleeve of his sweater. "You're such a kid," he murmured, shaking his head from side to side.
He was so close I could smell the beer on his breath. My own breath hitched when I noticed his eyes go from mine, to my mouth. He licked his lips.
Shit.
I held his hand that was on my face and tried pushing it away, but he gripped my wrist and turned it to face him.
"What's this?" There was confusion clear in his tone.
"It's our fucking apartment, Dimmy. She was fucking some guy in a space we shared."
My blood boiled. "Fuck her."
He chuckled, but it was sad. "So lady-like."
"Seriously, Ty. If that's how she treats you, fuck her."
"I think some asshole already did."
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah. Me, too."
"So what are you going to do?"
"No idea."
"Are you kicking her out?"
"The lease is in her name. I just packed some shit and now I'm sitting on a park bench with two bags and my guitar like an upper-class, street-performing bum."
I snorted.
"Not funny, Dim."
"Sorry."
He exhaled loudly.
"What about classes?"
"I'm done. I don't even have to be here to graduate."
The words were out before I could stop them. "Move in here. We have a spare room."
3
I picked him up from the airport and brought him home. Ethan was fine with him living with us. He and Tyson had always gotten along, so it was never really a question.
Then the awkward moment of which room he was going to have took place. The three of us stood in the hallway, eying each other. It was almost like Logan's room was haunted. Tainted. Ruined.
"Rock, paper, scissors?" Ty asked. He smiled sadly at me.
"You take it," Ethan said to me. It was an order.
"What?" I panicked.
"You have to get over it at some point. This is step one." He walked away.
"Is he okay?" Tyson's eyes moved from Ethan to me.
I shrugged. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know. He just seems . . ." He laughed once. "Older?"
I rolled my eyes. "He thinks he's my dad now."
"Oh," is all he said. He walked into my room—or my old room, now, and I walked into mine. It should have been ours.
***
"When did you get a car?" Tyson flopped down on the sofa next to me. It only took him an hour or so to unpack his bags and move my things to my new room. Logan had emptied out most of his stuff; he didn't have much.
"A couple of weeks ago."
"It's nice."
"Thanks," I replied, not wanting to go into detail. I feigned interest in whatever was on TV. Baseball. Great.
Ty cleared his throat. "Did he pick it out himself?"
My eyes snapped to his.
"Ethan told me," he stated.
"Geez, gossip much?"
He shrugged.
"I don't know. His friends dropped it off . . ." I trailed off, watching his face for any emotion. I couldn't see any, but he looked tired, more mature. He wasn't the lively Tyson I'd known when we dated. The Tyson I knew was a boy; the one sitting in front of me was all man. He'd gotten bigger, more masculine. He’d been a jock most of high school, but in his junior year, he’d decided to focus on his music. He'd always been good at both, but he was amazing with his guitar.
"What?" he asked.
I must have been staring at him. His deep brown eyes bore into mine. "Nothing."
He laughed quietly. "Were you just checking me out?"
"No!" I yelled, and then laughed. It felt so good to laugh.
"I miss that sound," he said.
My lips thinned to a line.
He blew out a breath and rested his head on the back of the sofa. "What the hell happened to us?"
I mimicked his position. "I know, right?"
"Dimmy . . . I'm not saying this to make you feel like shit or anything . . . but do you ever wonder? I mean, do you ever think about where we'd be if we’d stayed together?" He rolled his head to the side and faced me.
I did the same. "Sometimes," I told him honestly.
He smiled, then eyed the ceiling again. "I already miss her."
"Ally?" I sat up, wanting to pay more attention to him.
"Yeah. I shouldn't, right? She's a whore." He grimaced at his own words. "I shouldn't say that."
"It's okay," I told him. "She is. You don't deserve to be treated like that."
"Yeah," he agreed. "Not twice."
I sucked in a breath. His words hurt, especially now. Now that it was all for nothing.
"Sorry." He nudged my side. "That was a dick thing to say."
"You're right, though. You don't deserve that. Not at all, Ty. I hope you know that. You're a good guy, one of the best, really."
He laughed once. "Maybe that's the problem. Maybe I should've been an asshole—worked for Logan. He got the girl."
His words stung. "Did he? Because I'm here, and he's not. So I don't really see how he got the girl."
He didn't say a thing.
Neither did I.
We just sat there, looking at each other.
I heard Ethan walk in and sit on the recliner. My eyes didn't move from their spot.
"Well." Ethan broke the silence. "Aren't you two a party."
"Party," I said.
"What?" they both asked.
A smile pulled at my lips. "Let's have a party."
***
A few hours later the house was filled with the familiar odor of beer, perfume, and sweat. I sat outside by the fire with a soda in my hand. Ethan was next to me, of course.
"You should go have fun. That girl's been eying you the entire night." I jerked my head towards a blonde a few feet away.
He lifted his head and looked at her, but only for a second, before facing me. "Did you invite Alexis?" he spoke over the music.
I nodded.
"And?" he asked.
I hesitated, before telling him the truth. "She had a date."
"Fair enough." He sat up a little in his chair and eyed the girl again. Tyson came and took a seat next to me. "Stay with her," Ethan ordered, then got up and made his way over to the blonde.
Tyson hit my leg with the back of his hand, getting my attention. "I just saw a drunk girl dry humping some guy's leg in the hallway . . . he was barking at her."
I laughed so hard I spat out my soda, causing it to drip down my chin.
"That's so sexy," he teased.
I tried to swallow the remaining amount in my mouth. My eyes stung from the acid building behind my nose.
He moved his hands up and down as if comparing the weight of two things. "Spit . . . swallow . . ."
I spat.
His laugh was a slow build up, a chuckle turned guffaw.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand. His laugh had quieted by the time he leaned closer and wiped my chin with the sleeve of his sweater. "You're such a kid," he murmured, shaking his head from side to side.
He was so close I could smell the beer on his breath. My own breath hitched when I noticed his eyes go from mine, to my mouth. He licked his lips.
Shit.
I held his hand that was on my face and tried pushing it away, but he gripped my wrist and turned it to face him.
"What's this?" There was confusion clear in his tone.
