“What kind of freak doesn’t like chocolate?” Tyler added.
There was a general titter, but then Cole’s voice cut through the chatter. “The last one is the lie.”
I folded my arms across my chest and cocked an eyebrow, hoping I at least looked self-assured as I stared him down. “Why would you say that?”
“Ezra, is it?” When I nodded, he went on. “Because I’ve only just met you, and already I can tell there iswaymore to you than meets the eye.”
And why did that make me feel so warm inside? As the game went on, Cole kept his eyes on me, and I couldfeelsomething shimmering between us, something I didn’t quite understand.
I didn’t know how, but I had a feeling something was going to change.
***
Later that afternoon, I stopped at my house just long enough to dump my backpack in my room and exchange my jeans for swim trunks. Then I was back on my bike, zipping down the hill and over the Highlands-Sea Bright Bridge, crossing the bay to reach the ocean. When I came down from the bridge, I turned up toward the north end of Sandy Hook, deep blue water spreading out on either side of me as I rode. When I reached the first parking lot, I left my bike locked up at the rack and then made my way through the dunes, until finally I was standing in the surf, the water washingover my ankles as I faced into the wind, letting the tension of the day evaporate.
It felt good to be outside and away from the school building. Nothing bad had happened, necessarily. Mostly, everybody ignored me, just like they always did, and I was fine with that. But no matter where I went, I couldn’t stop running into Cole. I guess it made sense that we would have so many classes together, with the school being so small. But for some reason, he was an itch begging to be scratched, and no matter how much I tried to mind my own business, my eyes kept wandering up the curve of his spine, settling between his shoulder blades. He chose the seat next to me in English class, and I spent the period watching over his shoulder as he decorated his course syllabus with intricate drawings of faces, some of them human and some of them monsters. And I couldn’t help feeling a little bit curious, shuddering at the memory of the way his blue eyes had met mine from across the room earlier that day.
But then, at lunch, he went and sat at a table with the closest thing our tiny school has to the “popular” kids you see in teen movies. And I reminded myself how important it is not to get too attached to people, that Cole clearlyfitin a way that I never would, and that he would figure that out soon enough.
I spread my beach towel out on the sand and lay down, folding my hands behind my head and shuttingmy eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun on my face. Whatever the fuck else I had to deal with, this made sense. It still felt like summer, and probably would for most of the next month, so there was still time to enjoy the sun and the water before it got too cold to do anything more than walk along the shoreline. And I guess that was the one thing I had in common with everyone else in town — knowing we would all make the most of it.
“No, wait —nononononono—”
SPLASH.
The sounds of shrieks and laughter cut into my reverie, and I pushed myself up on my elbows to look for their source.
Far down the beach, Cole was emerging from the surf, shaking the water off himself and laughing with Drew and Tyler, who had just tossed him in. He was wearing bright yellow swim trunks that hung low on his slim waist, the soaked fabric clinging to his thighs, droplets sluicing down his hairless chest as he pushed his wavy hair out of his eyes. Courtney and Melissa were there too, adding their own laughter, but somehow I could only look at Cole. That hot, shivery feeling that had come over me when I first laid eyes on him was back, making somethingflipbehind my navel, a radiating warmth that made me tingle all the way to my fingertips. Even though none of them were looking at me, I felt totally exposed, a specimen pinned downfor dissection, my viscera spilling out in front of me.
For some reason I thought of Kevin Matthews in the sixth grade. He was a weird kid like me, and for once, I felt like I actuallybelongedto somebody. He liked gaming as much as I did, and for a while he would come over every day after school, and we would sit on the couch with our controllers, and he’d casually lean his knee against mine and I felt it then, too — that weird tightness, like I was doing something wrong, like I didn’t know what to do with my hands. And it was good for a while, I guess, but maybe I called him too much or something, or I tried to take up too much of his time, because he made some other friends and eventually he pulled away, and that was it. But I couldn’t really blame him, because I don’t like having to hang out with me all the time either.
I lay down in the sand once more, closing my eyes, but I could still hear the voices, and suddenly the beach wasn’t doing it for me anymore. It was just as well, I supposed — Dad was always hungry when he got off the job for the day, and if he and I were going to have dinner, I was going to have to put it in the oven. So I rolled up my towel and trudged back to my bike. I wasn’t quite ready to face the house, but I guess some things just can’t be helped.
Three
This Treadmill That I Call a Life
May 2025
Monday
Jesse: hey sexy
Jesse: wyd
Me: Um, going to work?
Me: It’s 8am
AS THE UNSOLICITEDdick pic flashes across my screen, I shut off my phone, glancing furtively around me to make sure no one is looking over my shoulder as I stow it back in my pocket. It’s not a bad-looking dick, necessarily, but not at all the energy I need while I’m sitting on the Q train, wondering if I would wake up faster if I poured my cup of coffee directly into my eyeballs.
You might think, given that I’ve proven to have a stick up my ass about pretty much everything else, that I have a problem with dudes sending me pictures of their junk without asking first. But in reality, I don’t actually mind. If it were late in the evening, and I was actuallylooking, I could work with a dick pic. There’s something honest about them, you know? I haven’t always had the best track record when it comes to knowing somebody is into me, and I don’t exactly thrive in a bar or club. But a picture of a dick? I know what that means, and I can work with it. I’ve had great hookups that started that way.
But there’s a time and a place, and this isn’t it.
I take a sip of my coffee, then shut my eyes, leaning my head against the glass. The train is rattling along the tracks, the high-pitched whine of the brakes quivering against every one of my nerves, vibrations traveling through the window and juddering through my skull, making my teeth clack together, but I’m too tired to care. It takes me at least twenty minutes every day to make it from my tiny apartment in Prospect-Lefferts to Lower Manhattan, longer if I have to travel to Midtown or the Upper East Side. I try to make the most of it when I can, grading a few papers or jotting down lecturenotes. But some mornings, just continuing to exist is about all I have the energy to do.
You probably want to know how I’m doing after the Cole debacle two weeks ago. Well, the answer is that I’m fine. I haven’t heard from him at all, and I know he’s better off. Seth was a little weird with me the day after the engagement party, but I played dumb and eventually he left it alone. I know I’m going to have to see Cole a few more times in the next couple of months because of the stupid wedding, but now that we know where we stand, I know it’s not going to be a problem.
