Tears burn in my eyes, and I turn my head so he won’t see them start to fall. If this is real—if this is an actual diagnosis—then it means I can return to something resembling normal. After being on the verge of going crazy the last few months, the relief to find out this isn’t all in my head is too much to process. The doctor tells me he’s going to check on some things and that a nurse will be in soon. I struggle to express the words of thanks I want to, but I hope my breakdown conveys my gratitude.
A couple of hours later, I’m back in my dorm room, tired, but relieved that this might be the last time I shuffle back here after a night in the hospital. They always leave me exhausted and wired at the same time, as if my body knows it should sleep but can’t quite figure out the steps to make it happen.
I slump into my desk chair and pull up my email. As usual, it’s full of various campus newsletters and announcements. Delete. Delete. I click on one from the Dean’s office that looks less spammy than the rest.
And… yeah, that sounds right. Academic probation. I knew this was coming. Spending multiple nights in the hospital, throwing up daily, and practically wasting away put a real damper on my partying, but it’s also fucked up my already mediocre grades. I only have a month left in the semester to bring them up or I’ll be out of school.
Well, they can add it to the long list of failures I’m accumulating.
Chapter One
Matthias
My backyard is a disaster zone.
No, that’s too kind of a description of the scene in front of me. When I agreed to this backyard makeover, I knew it would be bad. Sam, my contractor, warned me that if we did the whole thing in one go, the first few weeks would be chaotic. This though? There’s no way he meant it would bethisbad.
I dig in my pocket and pull out my cell phone. I can’t live like this for the next two months. Or longer. I’ve never known any home-improvement project to finish on time. I tap Sam’s contact card and wait for the line to connect.
“I warned you, Matthias.”
God, he knows me too well.“You didn’t say it would be this messy.” I stand on my back deck and look out over what used to be my backyard. The space hadn’t been anything special, but it’d been clean and organized. Now it looks like a supply truck exploded.
“I said it. You didn’t listen.”
I pull the phone away from my face and glare at it, hoping the indignation on my face somehow travels through the cell network.
“Today was only the first day. We unloaded all the supplies, sorted them, and we’re ready to go tomorrow. Doing it this way is easier and cheaper, but it means that your yard is a combination of work zone and storage space for a while. Any of this ringing a bell?” Sam’s a no-nonsense guy, which is one of the reasons we get along so well, except when he’s working against me.
“Could it at least be an organized mess?” Unable to look at it anymore, I turn and head back into the house.
Sam barks out a laugh. “I don’t think that exists.”
As much as it pains me to admit, Sam’s right. He’s worked on my parents’ house since I was a teenager and now on mine. There was a moment of awkwardness when we ran into each other at Daddy Night at the local gay club, but we’ve gotten past it. Mostly, we both agree never to mention it to my parents.
“It gets better from here on in, I promise. The guys’ll be back tomorrow, and I’ll remind them to clean up and keep things as neat as possible.”
“Great and?—”
“I’m not done. While they’re doing that, you’re going to remember that all the fancy upgrades you want require us to tear things up and make a mess before we put them back together.” He sighs, and I can picture him rubbing his temples the way he always does when someone tests his patience. “You’ll need to figure out how to accept that. I recommend closing your blinds and staying out of our way.”
That’s not happening. I trust Sam, but I’m way too much of a control freak to let go completely. “Thank you.That’s all I ask, that they do their best to keep things clean and orderly.”
“I’ll make that clear. I’ll also make it clear that they should come straight to me if you give them any shit about it. Then I’ll deal with you myself.” The downside of hiring someone who knows me well is that he has no qualms about calling me out on my bullshit. He’ll follow through in a heartbeat, too.
“I’ll keep out of the way.” That’s the best I can promise.
“I’m glad we understand each other.” The line goes dead before I can say anything else.
Maybe this is a good excuse to spend more time at the office. Then I won’t be home to see the space during daylight hours. Given that it’s winter, that won’t be too hard. I’m in the grinding stage of my career, trying to prove to everyone at the firm that I deserve this job because of my work ethic and skills, not because my father’s a founding partner of the company. It’s been a struggle, but I can see an end in sight. At least, I think I can. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell the difference between the light at the end of the tunnel and an oncoming train.
Taking Sam’s advice, I shut the blinds, trying not to look out the window. It’s ten weeks. I can make it ten weeks.
FRANK
“Is that you, baby?”
I pause in the entryway, deciding how I want to handle this situation. The right answer is to go into the living room and say hi to my mom. Yep, that’s what a good sonwould do.
