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Jesus. Do I want Spence to get googly eyes? Do I want Kade to get googly eyes? Do I need to just fuck myself?
I huff, collapsing onto my bed. I’d really love to stay right here. Not wash my face, not take my makeup off, just sink into the bed and wake up without any feelings for my best friend.
But I don’t.
Leaving my phone on my bed, I finish my nighttime routine and put on pajamas, still trying to decide if I want to text Spence or leave him hanging when he sends another text message.
Spence: K but are you dead?
And I remember how I used to be the dramatic one in our friendship.
I slide into bed and pull the covers up over my head, finally typing out a reply so he doesn’t call my damn security team to come check on me.
Me: Hey! Sorry. Crazy night. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, don’t want to be rude to my guest. *winking emoji*
Rule number 2,387 when trying to make your old best friend think you’re fine when you secretly kind of want to crawl into a hole? Fake it ’til you make it.
***
10
***
SPENCE
Kade and I used to bond over comics. It started off as simple as the spread in the Chicago Tribune—our Sunday paper had the best comic strips. We’d argue over who got to read them first, but ultimately, we’d sit together on the sofa in our parents’ house reading and laughing together until our stomachs hurt.
From Garfield’s sarcasm to the dry humor in Dilbert, we would read and reread those strips all week long until the new ones came out, and we’d laugh just as hard every single time. The memories of Kade and our comic days are some of my favorites to look back on because life was easier then.
All bets were off once we discovered comic strips weren’t the only comics in the world. There are actual comic books? Comic book stores? Life was fucking glorious after we figured this out. When I was around ten years old—so Kade would have been twelve—we went to our first comic book store together. We took the bus there… fucking public transport in Chicago at ten and twelve years old. Mom grounded us for the entire summer, but it was so worth it. We had our pockets full of piggy bank money we had earned from chores that entire schoolyear, and when we set foot into Reggie’s Comics—the best damn comic book store in the city—we felt like we had walked through the gates of Heaven.
I wait for Kade to get to my place, reminiscing on times when things were simple. When we were just two young kids, brothers who had each other’s backs. Now I feel like I don’t even know who Kade is anymore. No, I definitely do not know who he is anymore, and I don’t know if I want to.
Grabbing my cup of coffee, I choose to leave the Keurig on, just in case Kade wants a cup. I slide onto one of the barstools at my kitchen island and pick up one of the comics. I’ve got a few of my favorites spread out on the island, ones I know will start my day off right if I wake up in a shit mood.
The one I choose for this moment is less comic book and more graphic novel. My Favorite Thing is Monsters isn’t one Kade and I grew up with, but one I found more recently. The author, Emil Ferris, is a huge inspiration. She was bitten by a mosquito carrying the West Nile virus back in 2002 and had to literally reteach herself to draw by duct-taping a pen to her hand. It’s one of the graphic novels I picked up solely on principle, but damn, is it an awesome story.
I hear the front door of my condo swing open, the chime of my security system alerting me that the sensor has been tripped. I told Kade to walk in, figuring that’s what brothers do, right? The condo still feels a little foreign to me—a little not right. The band is putting me up, renting this place for me until I get on my feet with them. They needed me here and said it was only fair that they pay until I start making my money with them. While I think it’s incredible, it feels like I’m taking a handout that I haven’t earned. Not yet, anyway.
Standing from my breakfast nook, I shift on my feet uncomfortably.
“Spence?” Kade’s deep voice echoes in the entryway hall, and I step to the right, leaning into the hallway so he can see me. “Hey, little brother. Thanks for letting me come over.” My jaw clenches on instinct with his little brother comment. We’re in our mid-twenties.
He makes his way over to me, clasping his hand around my shoulder. “Don’t act too happy to see me, man,” Kade says, stepping back and eyeing my coffee.
“Want a cup?” I ask, ignoring his statement and nodding toward the coffee maker. “Have at it, big brother.” I’ve left a mug and a pod of coffee next to the coffee maker. He can figure it out.
He narrows his eyes at me and then steps around me, heading to make himself a cup. With his back to me, he puts a K-cup into the machine and says, “So this is how it’s going to be, huh?” The muscles in his shoulders rise and fall when he takes in a deep breath.
Well, if he wants to get into it this early, I suppose there’s no time like the present.
“This is how you made it, dude.” I shake my head. “I don’t know how to be around you anymore. You left. We don’t talk. We don’t see each other. How would you like me to be?” I ask because I genuinely don’t know how to be in the same room with him anymore.
He turns around after a few moments, mug of coffee in hand.
“We can go into the living room. It’ll be more comfortable,” I say, swiping my coffee off the island and heading over toward my couch. I move easily in my gray sweatpants, still in pajamas because my brother decided he wants to come over at nine in the morning on a weekend day. Taking a seat on my polyester couch, I motion for him to sit across from me on the matching chair. My place is nothing like Declan’s. Hers consists of imported vintage furniture, style, overflowing with art on the walls and colorful rugs on the floors. My condo is less than two thousand square feet with dull walls and coordinating dull furniture. It’s not that I can’t appreciate cool shit, because I can—and I do—but I haven’t been in my place long so I haven’t had the time to do anything with it yet.
Kade relaxes into the chair, setting his coffee on the side table and looking around the room. “I can tell you’ve done a lot to this place in the short amount of time you’ve been here,” he says with a smirk.
