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He stares up at my ceiling awhile. “I miss this.”
I stare up at the ceiling, too. It’s bumpy, the left side looks unintentionally lower than the right, and there’s a discolored spot that might be a leak. “It’s nice … having you back in my life again.”
“Dude, I never left.”
I chuckle. “No. I did.”
He doesn’t say anything to that.
I listen to the soothing sound of him breathing deeply and evenly, in and out. My mind is taken back on another unexpected journey through time, hearing him breathe next to me. “Hey, Sky?”
He doesn’t say anything.
Okay. I’ll just assume he’s listening. “I don’t know if you remember, but … I’ll never forget it. The night after our first hell week together, when we watched all of the new pledges trying to prove themselves, desperate to become a part of our frat. You and I had so much fun, but we were kinda the ones with the hearts … the ones who kept assuring the new freshmen that we weren’t one of the ‘bad frats’ that hazed and did bad stuff. We just liked to have fun, the way real brothers razz each other.” I listen to him breathe a moment longer, wondering if he’ll say something. “And after that long week, when we finally had a night to ourselves, we slowly fell asleep next to each other in that dusty room up in the attic of the frat house, all alone. The sound of you … breathing …” I close my eyes. I’m there all over again. I can even smell the old books and the boxes of musty, obsolete frat robes we used to wear during induction ceremonies. “At one point, I could see a glimpse of the full moon through that big circular window … the one window in the attic. You remember that window? I poked you in the ribs and tried to get you to look at the full moon. You turned and looked at the moon, and do you remember what you said? You said—dude, you were probably still drunk—you said to me: ‘If you were a werewolf, bro, I’d want to be in your pack.’ You remember that?”
He doesn’t answer.
I turn my head halfway toward him. “For a while after that, I wondered what you meant. Were you saying you wanted to be part of my crew? Or did you mean … you worried if I was a werewolf, and that big moon through the attic window made me change, you’d be in danger?” I smirk and shake my head. “I can tell you right now, you would never be in danger around me. Not ever. I’d …” My lips form a proud smile. “I’d protect you, Sky. No matter what. You’ll always be part of my pack.”
I glance at the side of his face. Skylar’s eyes are closed. His breathing remains slow and deep. Still, he says nothing.
Fuck. Did he fall asleep? Did he not hear any of that?
I guess it’s alright. I’ll tell him in the morning.
With a grunt, I roll back onto my belly to take hold of the spiral notebook on the floor and put it away. When I pick it up, however, my eyes land on the last entry Skylar read:
This isn’t easy to write. I guess nothing in these pages is and that’s the point. Anyway, I just came back from a very embarrassing game of mini-golf, which I lost—badly—and my fingers are numb because it’s cold outside, and so here goes my humiliating confession: I am in love with my best friend. He’s thinking of dropping out after this semester, and I really don’t want him to, but he needs to follow his heart. Fuck. This sucks so bad. I’m still drunk from our post-game celebration thing, and I guess that’s why I have the courage to write this at all. I do hope he finds what he’s looking for. It’s clearly not me. And maybe writing all of this down will help me forgive him more for leaving. Because right now, I fucking hurt. Ugh. I love him. Love sucks. I hate love, but I love him. There. It’s confessed. Maybe Dionysus will read this and send me some wine to drown out my pain. Or better yet, Aphrodite, or her dumb arrow-shooting son, because I sure as fuck need their help right now, and I have a bone to pick with the cruel son.
I stare at the page.
I’ve never read Skylar’s confession before. It’s obviously his. That mini-golf game was with me. I’m the one who left.
I’m the one who caused him pain.
I drop the book, then flip onto my back again, staring at the ceiling with a whole new heaviness of despair sitting on my chest.
Skylar is gay, too.
And he had a thing for me back then. A big one.
