[ 11 ]
It’s our last morning to wake up in the apartment despite the majority of our stuff being packed up and shoved in the back of the car. The aroma from the pot of coffee brewing in the kitchen fills the space like a disease.
A super gay disease: “Morning, Benny,” says Charlie, slurping out of Trent’s favorite mug despite him distinctly telling Charlie not to. “You sleep well on that crooked-ass piece of crap you call a mattress?”
“Not everyone can have clouds for beds like you do,” I spit back, sipping my milk.
Charlie grins, scrolling through his phone with his free hand. “I’m a bit excited about this acting class we’re taking with Professor Kozlowski.” He slurps on his coffee again. “Can we do a scene together? Let’s do a gritty sexy scandalous scene together.”
“I only agreed to take that class because I needed the fine arts credit,” I warn him. “I’m going for business and psychology. I’m taking over my pop’s store someday, or maybe opening my own.”
“Puh-leeze.” Charlie sets down his mug and leans over the counter, getting up in my space. “Dream bigger, bub. You’re going to be a college boy, soon. Ain’t no way in hell we’re coming back to this hellhole, so you better get yourself some ideas and fashion yourself a future. Build an empire. Invent a fuck-what. What’s a fuck-what? I don’t know, but you’re gonna invent it and make millions. Hey.” He lays a kiss on my cheek, pops me in the ear. “Maybe you’ll meet a sexy man or two along the way.”
Just in time, Trent emerges from the door, coming back into the apartment from lugging the last box downstairs. He’s dressed in a smart button shirt and slacks, a chain hanging from his pocket. “Sup, boys,” he says, then notices Charlie and the mug. “What the fuck.”
“It’s our last morning here,” Charlie spits back, rolling his eyes. “Your ass wasn’t gonna drink my high-dollar coffee anyway.”
Trent smirks. “Point taken. Car’s packed and ready to go, boys.”
His piercing eyes meet mine. I’ve come a long way since that tumultuous time when I sucked his cock and nearly ruined everything. He’s also come a long way, having apologized at least seven times for “overreacting” and then having to convince me that, while he’s not gay, he might be open to getting drunk enough to let that happen again. I smirked and told him some hotter fuck was waiting for me at the university and he missed his chance.
Of course, hearing that from Trent made me swell with a certain dark pride.
“Finish up that high-dollar shit,” Trent tells Charlie, giving him a nod. “I’m ready to blow this joint and get the fuck to campus. Nine hour drive. Hope you guys brought good music on those phones. Mine’s still broken.”
Charlie’s about to enthusiastically mention his discography from gay hell when I say, “I got the music covered. Charlie, don’t even think about it.”
Charlie smirks. “Y’all fools got no taste.” He goes back to his phone, scrolling and checking things while finishing his coffee.
I turn to face Trent. His eyes look glassy, far away. I know that look. Coming up to him, I grip his shoulders and give him a rub. “It’s gonna be fine, man.”
“I know. I’m good.”
“Nah, you’re not.” I whack him on the head, give his shoulder a shake. “It’s nerve-wracking, I know. Long drives into our possibly radically-changed futures can be a bit of a mind-freak-out. But we got each other, buddy. We can do this.”
“I know. Alright.” He takes a deep breath, lets it all out in my face. “Sorry.”
“Fuck. You need a mint.”
Trent smiles, adorable as ever, his lip ring popping and his eyes sparkling. “You do realize you’re the inspiration behind this whole thing, right? Like, I’m pretty sure if I didn’t have you in my life, I’d still be sitting on that couch playing fuckin’ … games until my thumbs turned to bone.”
“Look at us,” I say, picking up his muse. “We’re still together. Look at all the shit we’ve gotten through.”
“All the shit we’ve yet to get through.”
“It’s just a nine hour drive.” I shake his shoulders again, bringing his adorable face back to mine. “A nine hour drive and then we’re fuckin’ free.”
I finally see the first bits of fear vanish from his eyes, replaced with a twisted sort of courage. “We’re gonna get ourselves some fuckin’ degrees.”
“And a life, maybe,” I jest.
“Hey!” shouts Charlie. “You two bromos finished makin’ out over there? I just made nine playlists, one for each hour, and we got a big ol’ campus to corrupt. Things to do, people, things to do.”
I grab my bag off the couch, sling it over a shoulder. “Let’s get the fuck out.”
“Say goodbye.” Trent gives the place a kiss in the air, then slaps the wall and swings out the door.
After Charlie gives the apartment a wiggle of his fingers and hops down the stairs, I’m the last to leave. Looking back at the place, my eyes come to rest on the couch.
With just the sight of it, I feel the warm embrace of imaginary Trent, the one that kept stealing his way into my dreams, and the brave and wicked imaginary Benny who let it all happen, who lived the fantasies that I could never know.
I think about all the things I said to Trent and all the things I didn’t. All the things that imaginary Benny could do and say.
My heart swells up. “Goodbye,” I tell them both, whether the imaginary ones that loved each other straight up, or the real ones.
The end.
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