FIFTEEN

 

 

Living with Manny wasn’t bad. He was a lot of fun, actually, and even if his drinking reminded Grant uncomfortably of Tristan, no one could say that Manny wasn’t easier to get along with than Tristan was. He was far less prickly and far more open and friendly, pleasant to everyone.

The truth was, if not for Manny, Grant thought that he might have ended up leaving before the semester was even over. Everyone else was acting so strangely around him, and now, without even having Tristan around to provide a sort of buffer against that, he was finding that it bothered him more.

Manny, though, took over a lot of that role. He saw that the other guys in the frat were at least civil to Grant, and though Manny wasn’t and could never be Tristan, he made the whole experience bearable, and Grant knew that he owned his friend for that.

Now, he could leave the college on his own terms, when the semester was over, with the credits he’d earned not lost. He could pretend to himself that he wasn’t slinking off with his tail between his legs, though, of course, he knew very well that he was doing exactly that.

Another good thing about Manny was that he was a social butterfly, not that he would probably appreciate the term being applied to him, but it was just the truth. Manny was always out with people, always visiting, so Grant had the room to himself a fair bit. It was nice, mostly, but at times like these when his homework just would not stick in his brain and he ended up reading each sentence a half a million times with no idea what it said at all, he could have used some distraction.

Maybe he could just go see if Tristan was willing to consider being friends, even if they hadn’t worked out as lovers. Grant had always thought that he would be the sort of guy who could be friends after a breakup, but could Tristan?

He could go see, but then, he would have to deal with hearing about Warren, with finding out if Warren had gotten Tristan back, as he had so obviously been setting out to do. Grant could face down a charging offensive line and not even blink, but when it came to this, he was just a coward.

It was easier just to let himself say that Tristan probably wouldn’t even want to be friends with his ex, if that’s what Grant even was. Had he and Tristan even actually been official? He could remember asking, but then Tristan had been caught up in Warren the whole time so …

So he had to stop thinking about this. So what if he missed Tristan? So what if he was finding it hard to move on? He had done the right thing, and at least he could take comfort in that.

He had work to do, and he had just turned his gaze back down to his book for what felt like the millionth time when the door to his room opened. He looked up again, a smile of welcome on his face, sure that it was Manny even if he hadn’t expected the other man back for quite a while. He could use some distraction.

Only it wasn’t Manny. It was actually someone that he wouldn’t have expected, because why would Warren waste his time with Grant? Warren had what he wanted now, the freedom, at the very least, to go after Tristan. Or had he just come to gloat?

It wasn’t that hard to think of that as being the case, actually. Warren seemed the type who was quite willing to be petty pretty much on a whim. He probably wouldn’t even need a reason, just his dislike for Grant and his desire to rub it in his face.

“You’re going to be at the Halloween party.”

Warren didn’t even bother to say hello, or anything else. He got right to the point, which was probably a good thing, but at first Grant didn’t really understand what he meant. He knew about the Halloween party, of course, people had been talking about it for weeks, but why was he being informed that he was attending?

“I don’t think so,” Grant told Warren calmly when it seemed as though that was just about all that he was going to get out of the other man. “I have work to do.” He also just wasn’t in a particularly partying mood, it had to be said. Being there, seeing Tristan, with Warren possibly all over him, wasn’t something that he was going to be very excited about.

Especially not when he was going to have to come to grips with the fact that Tristan hadn’t been willing to do with Grant what he might just be willing to do with the man who was smirking down at Grant now, a visible reminder to Grant of everything that he had lost.

“It’s mandatory,” Warren informed him, and Grant arched an eyebrow. It was a party. How was it mandatory? He knew that most of his frat brothers, if not all of them, would probably be there regardless, but he hadn’t heard anything which made him think it wasn’t just optional.

“You throw mandatory parties?” he asked, not sure if he should be more amused or pitying. Warren was really so insecure.

“It’s mandatory for you,” Warren clarified, and something, some sort of grim foreboding, gripped him and made him swallow and look into Warren’s eyes more closely. He had just sort of wanted the man to go away, had thought he knew his motivations, but now, he wasn’t so sure.

“I have work,” Grant repeated. He knew that he would. His coworkers were mostly people who could not be trusted to show up on a holiday, so he would get scheduled to work, for sure.

“You’ll be there, or you’ll be out of the fraternity,” Warren told him bluntly, but that threat didn’t hold much sway over Grant, not anymore. “Skip it, or you’re out.”

That tone of voice would have driven Grant insane if the situation had been different. Even as it was, Grant felt his hands clenching into fists at his sides, and it would be all too easy to get angry if he let himself.

“So kick me out,” Grant challenged. “I’m leaving anyway.”

It was so strange, saying the words aloud. But as he did, he felt how very true they were, how right. There was just so little left for him here, nothing but more drudgery, more frantic work to try to keep himself above water, a joyless, grim, desperate existence. Being with Tristan had somehow taught him that things could be different, and now that that was over, there didn’t seem to be as much point anymore.

He was working himself ragged. To think of at least four more years of this, it was beyond consideration. Community college was much cheaper, and he could work much less to keep himself there without student loans.

“What?” Warren’s voice was sharp, and there was a gratifying look of surprise in his eyes. Whatever plans that Warren had had just then, Grant had just ruined them, and he was just petty enough to take pleasure in that.

“I’m leaving. After this semester,” Grant repeated. “So go ahead and kick me out, if that’s what gets you off. I don’t care.”

And just like that, he had taken away so much of the other man’s power. He couldn’t even pretend to be sorry about that.

Funny, though. The situation had worked out so that Warren, who should have been jumping with joy about Grant leaving, actually seemed sort of disappointed. One fewer person to torment, maybe that was it.

“Okay. Fine. Good.” Warren seemed to pull himself together, to rally a bit, which was probably not the best news for Grant. But what could Warren even do? Nothing, he tried to reassure himself, but he wasn’t sure that he fully believed it.

“But you’re still going to be there. Or else …” Warren paused, and then the devious gleam came back into his eye. “Or else I’ll tell Tristan’s father that he’s gay.”

It should have been flimsy, and ridiculous, and in a way, it even was. The frantic flailings of a child, just one step, and not a very large one, removed from a toddler throwing a temper tantrum. Warren just couldn’t stand not having his way, not having people dance to his tune. It was pathetic.

Or would have been, if Grant hadn’t meant the words that he’d said to Tristan. He did love him. Even now that Grant had walked away, had done what was best for both of them, he knew that he would never be able to do anything that would hurt Tristan.

That was the ridiculous thing about this that it was going to work. That Warren had struck on probably the only thing that Grant would care about enough to make Warren’s little temper tantrum work.

Tristan was so brilliant that he didn’t even need his father’s money. That was another thing that stuck, niggled in the back of Grant’s mind. Tristan was so concerned about this, it was such a big deal to him, even though he didn’t need his father’s money.

That was the difference between Warren and Tristan, one of many. Warren was a bully, and he did need every bit of influence, of power, that he could scare up. Tristan thought he did, but he didn’t, and it was suddenly hard for Grant not to pity them both.

Because Tristan did care, and because it wasn’t Grant’s choice to make. Tristan should get to decide how and when he came out, if he ever did, and this seemed like such a small concession in the face of that truth.

“I just have to be at your stupid party,” he checked, and Warren gave a little shrug and then, when Grant kept right on staring with him, a reluctant nod. He was reluctant to be pinned down, to say something that he could be held to, and Grant had noticed that. He wasn’t going to let Warren slip away on this one.

“Yeah,” Warren agreed, and Grant sighed but nodded.

“Fine. Now get out.”

The surprising thing, maybe, was that Warren did just that. He limped out of the room as fast as he could, leaving Grant to stare down at his own hands as though they could somehow contain the secret of why his life had gotten to this point, where he would allow a tyrant, a bully, to dictate anything about his life at all.

He had always been proud of himself for sticking to his ethics, for doing the right thing even if no one else understood or respected that decision. So it didn’t sit well for him to let a bully have his way, it made his stomach twist into uneasy knots to think of it.

But it was a relatively small price to pay to protect Tristan. He knew that it wasn’t even his job to do so, but it seemed that he couldn’t just stop loving him, and wanting to help him, just because they’d broken up.

And what did it matter, anyway? In a few short months, Grant would be gone, and Warren would lose any sadistic hold over him that he had managed to get today.