Page 20 of Everything We Are

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The trainer continues to work my back until it’s loose. “I don’t speculate, but if you’re in trouble, let me know.”

“Thanks.” I hop down and wobble back to the locker room. Thankfully, most of the guys are gone, but so is most of the hot water. I should’ve showered first, but whatever, I can deal with the lukewarm water. I make quick work of the soap, wash my hair, rinse everything off, and then shut the water off. At my locker, I go through my routine and once I’m dressed, I pull my phone out of my bag and see a text.

Jude:Text Thea or just come home.

Even though his words have some truth to them, I don’t think he understands how hurtful they were. I know they weren’t meant for my ears, but I heard them, nonetheless. Am I really such a bad person he must warn his sister? The answer is yes. I’d warn my sister away from someone like me in a heartbeat. I digress though and send her a text.

Sorry I haven’t eaten the dinners.

I don’t even have time to put my phone away before the chat bubbles appear.

Thea Jensen: Where have you been? I wait up for you and you never come home. Are you okay? I’m worried.

Why is she worried when she doesn’t even know me? I frown at my phone. The last thing I want is for her to think about me, to worry about me, to even care about me. She needs to live her life, enjoy college, and think of me as a guy who sleeps on the second floor. Not one who comes home at all hours of the night, beaten and battered.

You should get your beauty sleep?

Thea Jensen: Are you saying I’m ugly???

You’re so far from ugly.

Never. And any guy who says you are, isn’t worth your time.

There I go, big brother mode.

Thea Jensen: I miss seeing you, Ky.

There it is again, this time in print. She called me Ky the other day and I almost blew a nut. The way she shortened my name sent shock waves right to my groin. And now I have it in writing. I bang my head against the locker and groan. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” There’s no one to answer, probably because no one knows what to say. I’d love to be the type of man she deserves, but it’s not in the cards for us. I’m damaged, responsible for two grown women and a kindergartener, who are going to follow me wherever I go. How does someone build a relationship when there is so much baggage?

I let her text simmer. I don’t know how to respond to her without either coming off as rude or giving her an that inclination I like her. I’m in a tough spot and no matter what I say, it’s going to come out wrong on her end.

In the end, I don’t text her back. I pocket my phone, close my locker, and head anywhere but the house.

Eleven

Thea

September turns to October,and Northport comes alive with fall colors. If I thought this place was picturesque before, it really is something else with the hints of reds, oranges, and yellows adorning the trees in the streets and on campus. The semester is in full swing, and I’m really enjoying my classes. There’s a good group of students in my nutrition class and we all get along well, which is a relief. Well, apart from Marty Edwards who sometimes makes a leery comment or two, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. We all know a guy like him. The type who thinks he’s the super-popular jock with people falling at his feet, or the funny guy with the one-liners everyone laughs at. In reality, he’s the guy who tries too hard to be the class clown and the laughs are probably out of sympathy. I feel for him. The funny, cocky exterior might be a guise for something more serious going on in his private life so I’m patient with him. You never know if it might be a cry for help. And there I go with the pseudo psych analysis. What is it with me trying to figure out the inner workings of complicated boys?

Speaking of which, after his text exchange with me a few weeks ago, yet again, Kyler Rose has become a ghost. Either that, or he’s simply ghostingme. I’ve long stopped trying to figure him out. I’ve had to, because it was consuming me day in and day out, and it was driving me crazy. The last thing I need is to become obsessed with someone who clearly wants to be left alone. Jude assures me it’s not me, it’s Kyler who has the issue, and once again said he’s got some things going on in his personal life which are taking up a lot of his time and keeping him away from the house. I get it. We all have things in our personal life that consume us from time to time, but what’s his excuse for trying to avoid me at school? He may think he’s stealthy enough to jump behind a tree when he sees me, but I still see him lurking in the shadows. If that’s the way he wants to play it, then so be it. He’s a distraction I do not need.

As is tradition at this time of year, Halloween parties are at the forefront of everyone’s mind and it’s no different back at the house. Apparently, it’s our turn to hold the party at our place, as Mikko, Brad, Saul, and Mike had it at theirs last year. It makes sense we take it in turns as we live on the same street, and at least this means we can be in control of drinks and snacks. Thankfully, it’s not going to be too wild—my roommates are not the type to say it’s open invite—and the guest list includes the hockey team, my classmates, and some other friends of the boys. Millie also has her own set of invites since she’s here most of the time and is an honorary roomie. In all honesty, she might as well move in and take the seemingly vacant room on the second floor, but I guess evicting someone on the basis they are never at home is grounds for being sued.

“So, we need a theme for this year, any thoughts?” Jude asks as we have an impromptu house meeting around the breakfast bar.

“Doctors and nurses?” Nolan immediately suggests, causing groans and a unanimous shout of “veto” from the rest of us.

“I literally don’t understand why this suggestion gets shut down every year,” he complains.

“Because, moron, the sexy nurse thing is so last decade. Plus, you only suggest it so you can see the girls in their tight skimpy outfits while all you guys can get away with wearing a lame shirt and tie and borrow a white coat from a med student.” Millie’s reply comes with a hint of a bite, and I can’t say I blame her; she has a point.

“All right, Mills, don’t get your panties all in a twist,” Nolan teases her.

“You wish I got my panties in a twist over something you said,Noles. Keep trying, sweetie.”

I’ve quickly come to realize this kind of back and forth between Millie and Nolan is usual with them and is a combination of acerbic wit and flirty banter. Neither of them gets offended by the little digs though, so we just tend to let them get on with it.

“Any other suggestions?” Jude patiently continues.


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