I run a hand through my bedhead and groan. Fuck my life. Genuinely, fuck my life.
It’s Thanksgiving break, and I’m gonna be alone for a whole week, and this is the first holiday I’m spending by myself.Ever.
Letting out a huff, I roll my eyes and sit up, slipping my pants back on and leaning back against the wall. When one parent disowns you for dating a guy, and the other blames you for the ensuing divorce, that’s already a bad hand. What makes things worse is having friends who are all coupled up, which means I can't impose on their own family visits anymore like I did for the last two years.
And the only person who’s staying in town, and who I’m remotely close with, is none other than the guy I shoved off of me last night.
If self-sabotage is auditioning for a mascot, move me to the front of the line and turn everyone else away. I’d get the part, hands down.
Ian
Hey
I wanna hang out before heading out
My first instinct is to turn him down and wallow in shame, but I have a whole week to do that. Besides, Ian’s the kind of guy who somehow always knows what to do and what to say, his hyperactive chaos aside.
Sounds good. Let me shower and I’ll head over
I wrap my dildo in more tissues and walk to the bathroom, cleaning it off while I wait for the shower to warm up. It isn’t long before I’ve dried off and bundled myself into too many clothes, and then I drag my tired body over to Ian’s apartment.
When I walk in, he’s sitting on his couch, his eyes on the TV and his hands in a napping Callum’s hair.
Jesus, those two are inseparable, even when they live together, and hell if I don’t want what they have.
Although that entails me not being fuckingbroken.
I give Ian an upward nod, which he returns, trying to slide out from under Callum, who wakes up.
“Oh, hey, Nick,” Callum says, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. “What’s good?”
I give him a weak smile—Ian’s slang is really rubbing off on that formerly sheltered ball of nerves. “Nothing much. I’m just here to hang for a bit.”
“Cool, cool.” He’s helped upright by Ian, who motions for me to sit in the armchair across from them. “You want a drink or anything?”
“Fuck, yeah.” I shoot him a grateful look. “I need one.”
“Dude, are you okay?” Ian asks when Callum bumbles into the kitchen. “You look like you’ve been through hell.”
Groaning, I run a hand across my face. “I kinda fucked things up with a guy last night.” I pause to reconsider. “Nope, Imajorlyfucked things up.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry to hear that.”
Shaking my head, I lean back in the armchair. “It’s whatever. I tried hooking up but chickened out as usual. Felt like crap.”
“If you didn’t want to, you didn’t have to do anything. Don’t beat yourself up.”
If only it were so simple.
“I’m used to it,” I say, “so I’ll be fine. But it’s still fresh.”
“Okay, gotcha.” He purses his lips. “Would…getting drunk tonight maybe cheer you up?”
Callum comes back right when Ian says that, handing us each a beer.
I chuckle. “Again? I went out last night, which is where the fuck-up happened. I took him to Kappa’s sex room and?—”
Ian sputters. “You took him to the fucking Boom Boom Room?”
