The sound,a dull thud that won’t quit, is powerful yet distant. I take in the melted pint of ice cream, the chip crumbs, and the kernels of popcorn on the carpet. Julian’s sitting, half sprawled on the floor. He stirs, eyes fluttering open until he focuses on me. He must’ve crashed after we finished the movie, with one arm draped on the couch, his hair sticking up on one side, and a bowl of tortilla chips across his lap. The sound rattles through the doorframe, louder with each pound.
I push myself upright and stand, then Julian grabs me by the shoulder and places himself in front of me. As we walk to the front door, the thudding becomes more frantic.
“What the hell?” His voice sounds rough, sleep-worn.
The clock on the microwave reads 3:17 a.m. I try to get ahead of Julian, but he grabs my elbow and shoots me a look that saysstay next to me, tugging on his shirt. I open the door, wafting the scent of beer and liquor into my apartment.
Nate.He’s swaying on the threshold, looking more like a palm tree in a hurricane than the composed, put-together man I’m used to. Cognac-colored eyes, glassy and unfocused, and auburn hair sticking up.
Andrzej stands, coldly statuesque, hovering near Nate, ready to drag him out at the first sign of trouble. Judging by the distillery smell that clings to Nate’s breath, I’d say we’re on the express train to catastrophe.
“You said, Robyn—” He stumbles, catching himself against the wall before gravity wins. He’s a fucking mess. “This”—he waves at Julian, disdain curling through his voice—“doesn’t look platonic.”
It takes my mind a few seconds to catch up. Julian’s half asleep, shirt rumpled, his hair flattened on one side from how he passed out. I can practically see the dots connecting in Nate’s drunken brain—and every single one’s wrong.
But Nate’s gaze isn’t even on me anymore. It’s on Julian’s chest, zeroed in. “Nate,” he doesn’t break away. “Nate,” I say louder. “Stop looking at Julian’s nipple.”
He lifts his eyes to Julian’s. “Bro, did you pierce your nipples?”
Julian’s eyes light up, even if he still looks a bit groggy, and a slow smirk spreads across his face. “Wanna see what else I’ve pierced? Maybe that’ll show you what a real man looks like.”
I smack Julian in the ribs. “Kells, don’t start. He’s already malfunctioning.”
Andrzej’s laugh bursts out before he can stop it. He plants a hand on Nate’s shoulder, steadying him when he sways. “Man, he roasted you good,” he says, chuckling.
Nate scowls, muttering something I can’t quite make out, and Andrzej tightens his grip. Nate doesn’t lighten up, though, his focus darts between Julian and me, and he shrugs off Andrzej’shand.
“You think this is funny?” His voice cracks through the hallway and into my apartment. “You”—he gestures at Julian, the movement sloppy but full of venom—“you sleeping here now? Did you two fuck? Is that all it takes?”
“Nate, stop.” My voice is low, warning. The last thing I want is an audience in the form of nosy neighbors.
“No.” He takes a step closer, unsteady but intent. Julian’s already in front of him, a quiet wall between us. Nate’s jaw works, breath hot with alcohol. “You don’t get to tell me to stop. You—” He points at me, finger trembling slightly before he drops it, eyes glassy and furious.
“You don’t get to tell her shit, Nate,” Julian says, pressing his chest into Nate. “You don’t want her cozying up with me, don’t break her fucking heart.”
“Julian! I don’t need you to fight anything for me.”
Nate scoffs. “As if you would, Robyn.”
Julian and I snap our heads to Nate while Andrzej mutters about Nate’s stupidity. My stomach knots.
“You didn’t fight for us. You threw it all away.” His voice wobbles, with a slow drag of vowels, but the words cut clean through the room. “Yo-you just decided one day you were done.” He laughs, sharp and hollow, running a hand over his face. “But maybe that’s good, isn’t it? That’s what you wanted, right? Focus on yourdiagnosticstraining?” He enunciates with a mocking flair while adding air quotes to the last two words. “Never have to worry about who you leave alone all the time.” He’s back to holding himself up with the wall, blinking and straining to keep me in focus.
Andrzej steps forward, hands raised slightly to pull him back. “Come on, Nate. You’re?—”
Julian slides aside, and I force myself to meet Nate’s eyes. “What are you saying, Nate?” My voice is sharp, but tight in my chest, each word trembles with the coil of fury and dreadin my belly. I thought he was confused, or maybe just intoher.It’s about to get worse.
“I’m saying you abandoned me. For your career.” He gestures at me, a flick of his wrist that somehow makes my blood burn hotter.
Andrzej steps closer, a hand brushing Nate’s shoulder. “Come on, man, let’s not?—”
“No! Andrzej, let him say it!” My voice climbs.
“This program of yours ruined everything!” he shouts. “You’re always gone! It’s like being in a relationship with myself.”
My jaw tightens, fists trembling at my sides. “Nate, it was only a year. I’m more than halfway through?—”
“A year you didn’t have to do!” His voice cracks into a shout, rough from drinking and exhaustion. He gestures wide, nearly hitting the doorframe before catching himself on it. “You said so yourself! You’ve been dangling this carrot of being done for years: intern year, then general medicine, more general medicine…” He shakes his head hard, but it does nothing to clear his eyes. “But it’salwayssomething with you! You were supposed to be wrapping up! And then, out of the blue, you take thiscompetitive fellowship?! What the fuck?!”
