Chapter Fifty-Six – [Memory, Senior Year, May] – Terrible Mistakes
Ah, the smell of freedom. Since that morning, Lyn felt like he was walking on cloud nine. They had done it; they had crossed the finish line, and while many more challenges waited for them ahead, they could now say that they were free.
He walked through the quad, enjoying everything from the warm, late evening air on his face to the way his body, young and limber, moved.
Tonight, he'd prove to himself that he had learned to stop being a coward. The outcome didn't matter. Brad would understand how Lyn felt about him. Hopefully, it wouldn't sour their friendship. Hopefully, Brad would take it in stride like he did everything else.
And, hopefully, there was one tiny chance that Lyn would have a fraction of those feelings returned, because Brad had behaved lately – despite his bad moods – like he didn't want to let go of Lyn, not even for a moment.
It happened mostly when Alexander was present, Lyn had noticed. Brad was affirming his claim on his best friend, as if he was afraid Lyn might be snatched from him by their mutual friend.
It was silly but cute in a way. Lyn had tried to put Brad's mind at ease, letting him know – ad nauseum – that he was still his number one friend and he'd always be that, no matter what.
Okay, he thought to himself, taking a deep breath as he walked into Brad's dorm building. No amount of rehearsal would make his words just right, but he wouldn't bother with details right now. He and Brad were closer than ever, but later they would have to follow different paths to build their careers and most likely this kind of opportunity would never present itself again.
It was easy, right? He only needed to say the words.
I love you.
Lyn let out a low chuckle. Brad would most likely think Lyn meant it as friends, so a bit of clarification was definitely in the cards. A small invisible butterfly fluttered in his chest. If Brad thought it was a joke, Lyn wouldn't insist. That was the plan.
But what if he understood what Lyn meant, right from the start?
He stopped at the top of the stairs. He only needed to walk down the hallway, knock on Brad's door and confess.
So, why was he still hesitating?
It had to only be his nerves and usual anxiety.
What would Alexander think once he found out? Somehow, Lyn couldn't imagine his other friend congratulating him and Brad for finally finding each other.
It put him in a bad mood to think about Alexander right now. Was it because of the strange cryptic words that had been exchanged between them lately? About how Lyn had more in common with Alexander than he had with Brad?
He shook his head to chase those troubling thoughts away. Words were one thing. What truly troubled him was the way Alexander sometimes looked at him on those occasions when he thought Lyn would have all his attention trained on something or someone else. It was a glimpse caught out of the corner of one eye, but it was… so not like Alexander.
His dark demonic friend would look at him like a drowning man and Lyn was the only one who could save him. He'd tried to talk about it with Alexander, but every time he'd been met by a blank stare that gave him nothing.
He pushed those thoughts away. They had their entire lives ahead to figure out their problems. Who knew? Maybe years from now Alexander would open up and tell him why he used to look at Lyn like that.
Lyn was in front of Brad's door now. He knocked quietly, part of his courage already gone, wasted on his way here by his overactive mind, always bent on finding problems, even where they didn't exist.
The door opened abruptly, taking him by surprise. Brad's face appeared, a bit red and flustered.
Lyn groaned theatrically. "Have you started drinking without me?"
Brad gave him a goofy smile and pushed the door wide open. "Welcome, weary traveler. Ready for a real trip?"
Lyn kept his smile pasted on. As far as he knew, Brad had never done drugs – since alcohol was his lose-yourself option – but the mention of that slang word made him feel uneasy.
Brad burst into laughter. "You should see your face, Lyn. It's like I gave you a puzzle, not asked a simple question. His Majesty said he'd drop by later, but I see that you beat him to it."
Was Alexander already on his way? That meant Lyn had less time at his disposal to confess his feelings than he'd imagined. Determined not to let this opportunity slip through his fingers, he pushed Brad into the room and closed the door firmly behind him.
"Brad, I'm here to tell you something," he started.
Brad narrowed his eyes. "Are you leaving me?"
It was such a strange thing to say. But Brad looked like he'd had a bit to drink by himself already, as Lyn judged the situation, taking in the empty bottles lined up on the nearby desk.
"Where would I go?" Lyn said with a nervous chuckle. "We live in the same house, remember?"
Brad shrugged. His earlier good mood seemed to be evaporating by every moment that passed, so Lyn knew he was pressed not only by Alexander's impending arrival but by his friend's mood swings, as well.
He grabbed Brad by the shoulders, squeezing them tightly. At least, it looked like he had Brad's full attention.
No amount of rehearsal had prepared him for this moment. He wouldn't back down now, nonetheless.
"Brad," he started again. "I want to tell you something. It's important. To me."
Fuck, he sucked at this. He had never spoken about his feelings with anyone, let alone confess, so everything was new. How could he even brag about being a brilliant student, when something like this was enough to bring him to his knees?
"Okay," Brad said slowly, his eyes still full of suspicion.
"I," Lyn licked his lips nervously, "for the longest time, I mean, since the day we met, I… liked you."
Brad's face relaxed. He grinned widely. "Awesome. I like you, too, buddy."
Lyn knew this would happen. Of course. Here came the harder part, making Brad understand what he really meant.
"Not like that. I mean, like that, too. But like… more than a friend. I have feelings for you. Do I have to spell them out? Gosh, I'm really bad at this."
"Spell them out," Brad ordered, his mood souring again.
This was a bad idea. Lyn felt the earlier unsettling sensation in the pit of his stomach returning with a vengeance. The smell of stale beer made him grimace. The light was too bright. Brad's face, so handsome, yet so cold.
He could stop here. Play it off as a joke. But he had promised he wouldn't back down now. He owed this truth to himself.
His fingers moved to wrap gently around the back of Brad's neck. "I love you," he said in one breathless whisper.
"You what?" Brad took a step back, causing Lyn's hands to fall away from him. "Love me?" A humorless chuckle followed. One that expressed… disbelief?
Lyn remained frozen in place.
"That's so damn pathetic."
The last word cut through him like a knife. Pathetic.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Brad snapped. "Keep that kicked puppy look on your face for your owner."
"My owner? What the hell are you talking about?" Lyn finally reacted.
Brad's laugh was low and dark. "Do you really think it's cute to pretend to be so oblivious?"
"I'm not pretending to be anything," Lyn replied in a cutting tone. "Okay, you're too drunk to be reasoned with. Let's forget about this. It was just a joke anyway."
He was grasping at straws and he knew it. Nothing on Brad's face right now said he was willing to forget this conversation had taken place between them.
"Really? A joke?" Brad crossed his arms and stood with his feet wide apart, giving Lyn a long stare, as if he was just seeing him for the first time in his life. "How come I'm not laughing, Lynton?"
"I'm Lyn for you. Only Alexander calls me Lynton."
They were engaging in petty squabbles, and control was slipping through Lyn's fingers.
"Of course," Brad said, his smile turning uglier. "He's that privileged."
Lyn shook his head. "I have no idea what's gotten into you. I'm leaving. We'll talk again when you're sober."
He turned on his heel, ready to abandon any hope that this could have ever turned out well. Whatever was going on with Brad, it was beyond his ability to understand.
"You know, I never thought you could be bought."
Lyn froze with his hand on the doorknob. Bought? What was Brad talking about now?
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, still facing the dorm room door, so plain and unassuming, impervious to all the drama taking place in its presence.
"Well," Brad continued in a disdainful tone, "I suppose it runs in the family. Selling yourself to the highest bidder."
Lyn bent over so fast he almost hit his head against the door, a cutting pain stabbing right in the middle of his stomach. He turned toward Brad, his entire body shaking. "Are you talking about my mom?" he asked, choking on every word.
Brad shrugged. "What? Are you going to punch me now?"
It wasn't such a bad idea. His vision narrowed, and his fists followed. But Brad was quick enough to dodge him.
"Come at me, Lyn," Brad provoked him. Even drunk, he had better balance than him. "Will that make it right? If you punch me in the face? Will that change what you are?"
"You fucking asshole!" Lyn launched his next attack, just as unsuccessfully.
He caught the edge of the desk with both hands to regain his balance, shaking it and making some of the empty beer bottles fall to the ground, the sounds of breaking glass making him flinch.
Brad caught him from behind by the back of his shirt and pulled him away from the desk effortlessly. He spun Lyn to face him and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, bringing their faces together.
"Are you being kicked to the curb? Is that why you've come to me now?"
Lyn knew his struggle to wrench himself free was pathetic. Apparently, just like the rest of him. But the sharp, bitter pain in his chest focused him. With a loud yell, he aimed at Brad's face and caught the side of it with his fist.
A furious shout ensued, and Brad grappled him to the floor, pinning him underneath his heavy body. Lyn could barely see anything. He knew he'd get punched now, but Brad had his face close, really close, and there was no way Lyn could focus on it.
Their lips were so close they almost touched.
"I've never hated anything about my life until you," Brad hissed.
Because of his confession? Because Brad hated being confessed to by a gay guy? Lyn struggled to break free, but it was all in vain.
And he didn't have his glasses anymore. They must have been knocked off his face during their fight. He needed to find them.
"My glasses," he whispered, searching desperately for them with one hand.
"Leave the fucking glasses alone! I'm trying to talk to you here." Brad shook him hard, making his head spin.
The door opened abruptly.
"Get away from him," someone warned, and Lyn knew it was Alexander, who was too late to stop Lyn from making the most terrible mistake of his life.
Brad's grip eased on him. Lyn stumbled to his feet.
"Are you okay?" Alexander asked, most likely looking at him.
If he focused, he could see even without his glasses, but that was beyond his control now. His chest was tight, his breath coming in shallow bursts.
Why had Brad said all those nasty things about him and his mom? How did he even know…?
Unless, Lyn caught a thread of thought and pulled at it, unless—
"You just couldn't keep your mouth shut about her, could you?" he whispered, staring blindly at Alexander, his eyes too moist to make out the image of his friend's face. "You were the only one who knew for sure. What my mom did for a living."
"Lyn," Alexander said in shocked realization, "you couldn't possibly--" He was still holding Brad, shaking him for good measure.
And Brad was laughing manically, as if the entire drama didn't concern him and he was just a spectator.
Lyn staggered toward the door. "How could I have trusted either of you?"
"Lyn, wait," Alexander said urgently.
"No, you're not going after him," Brad warned. "He's not yours!"
Lyn pulled the door open and ran through it. He could hear the sound of fighting behind him, but he couldn't stop and help either of them.
They were supposed to be his friends. How could they do this to him?
"Lyn, it's not true, I didn't tell Brad anything," Alexander managed to shout after him. "Don't leave like this!"
Lyn ran faster, down the hallway, faster and faster.
The air burned in his lungs. His leg muscles cramped.
But he couldn't stop.
Not until he had run far enough.
***
Lyn stared at his phone. It was ringing and ringing. He wouldn't answer. Without his glasses, he couldn't read the text messages that choked his inbox one after another, anyway.
He'd always sucked at sports because of being caught up in his studies and all. But he bet he could throw it pretty far if he put his mind to it.
Far enough for him to stop hearing its incessant ringing.
TBC