More Than Him
Page 51
He shrugged. "You're my son, Logan. It's what I do."
Then he turned to the others. "Ethan?"
Shit.
I waited for him to say something. Reprimand him in some way. Talk to him like I was a kid and Ethan was the bully. Instead, he took the few steps towards him and looked down at him on the sofa. "You need me to look at your hand, son?"
Ethan's eyes went wide. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught. He cleared his throat and shook his head. "Um. No, Sir. It's fine. Thank you."
Dad nodded once. "If you're sure."
"I'm sure," Ethan confirmed.
Then Dad turned to me. "If you can deal with the pain for a night, maybe you boys should have a drink together, talk some stuff out. Clear the air. Start the painkillers tomorrow."
Two minutes later he was gone.
"So, mini golf?" I said to everyone.
Ethan got up. "If you can deal with the pain for one night, let's do it."
"Dude, your dad's my hero," Tristan declared.
Yeah. He was mine, too.
30
Logan
"What's in it?"
The others laughed while Ethan shrugged. "It's magic."
I warily took the flask from his hand and sniffed.
He rolled his eyes dramatically. "It won't kill you. You have to do it, those are the rules of mini golf."
I looked at Amanda. She just smiled and nodded her head. "Have you had this before?"
She shook her head and raised the car keys. "Designated driver, remember?"
Ethan made a huffing sound. "Just drink it, asshole," he teased. "What? Did you turn into a pussy the year you were gone?"
I took a swig. It tasted like gasoline. My face contorted.
Ethan laughed.
And that's how it went.
Apparently, the rules of mini golf were this: For every putt, you drink. That's it. After the third hole, I could barely feel the soreness in my body. "This shit's better than painkillers," I announced loudly.
Amanda snorted with laughter.
"Yeah, buddy!" Ethan yelled, then put his putter between his legs and started humping it.
"Oh my God," Amanda muttered next to me. "You're so mature."
He winked at her, right before Tristan mimicked his actions. So there they were, side by side, humping their putters. Amanda's laugh bubbled out of her. I loved hearing her laugh. I turned around and kissed her, probably longer, and deeper than what's publicly acceptable.
"Get a room," some dick yelled.
Then Lexi spoke up, "Fuck off, asshole. They've been apart for a year. Let them make out."
"Dude, that's my sister." Ethan made a disgusted sound.
"Could be worse," Tristan stated. "At least it's not Alexis again."
We pulled apart from the kiss, but not each other. My hands gripped her waist, her hands fisted into my shirt. "Does he know?" I whispered.
"I don't know," she whispered back.
Then we slowly, and simultaneously, turned to face Ethan.
He smirked, sauntered over to Lexi and put his arm around her shoulders. "Luckily, she's moved on to bigger and better things.
***
By the tenth hole, we were plastered. Beyond wasted. I couldn't feel my body, let alone how sore it could be. Everything was numb. Amanda had to hold me up. "It wears off real quick," Amanda told me.
"I just want to make out with you all the time."
"What?" She laughed.
"Your ass."
She laughed again. "You're not making much sense, babe."
I shrugged as we watched Tristan take his eleventy-third shot, all whilst Ethan and Alexis pointed and laughed at him. Then I felt her hand curl around my arm, and all of a sudden I was being dragged away. She took me to a spot hidden by a palm tree and a mini windmill. "Oooh, I like your thinking," I told her. She pressed her body lightly against mine and tilted her head to the side, allowing me access to start kissing her neck. Her fingers curled into my hair.
"I'm sorry." She sighed. "I feel bad, like I should be really pissed at Ethan for what he did to you, not be out here laughing and hanging out with him he hasn't even said sorry yet."
"It's fine." I sucked lightly on her shoulder. "It could be worse. He could've just beaten the shit out of me and forbid us to see each other."
She snorted. "Forbid? What is this? The eighteen hundreds? Besides, you really think anyone can stop us from seeing each other?"
I pulled back and watched as her face searched mine, waiting for an answer. I wanted to tell her that they could. That I respected Ethan enough that if he said we couldn't, then I wouldn't. But I couldn't lie to her. "Truth?"
"No," she answered. "Lie to me."
"I don't think anything, or anyone, is ever going to keep me away from you. I love you way too much. You're my heart, my world, my light."
***
Amanda was right. Whatever Ethan had in the flask was killer, but it did wear off quick enough. By the time we'd gotten home, my body was still numb, but my mind was sobering up. It was the same for all of us, which meant only one thing.
Beers in the backyard.
The girls stayed inside, something about catching up on TV. I heard them giggling about some guy who got cast in that Fifty Shades movie. Whatever.
Half an hour later, we were a mess again.
"I can't believe the shit Amanda said last night." Ethan's cap was pulled low on his head as he eyed the night sky.
"What part?" Tristan asked.
I sat up and waited for Ethan to speak.
"That shit—you know, how she blames herself for what happened that night."
I kicked my legs out in front of me. "I know, right? Like it's anyone's fault but mine."
"Psshh," he replied. "Dude, it's not your fault, either."
My eyes narrowed at him. "How is it not—"
"You know what I think?" Tristan cut in, putting his finger up in the air like he was preparing to enlighten us with a piece of wisdom. "I think it's human nature to blame yourself. When things fuck up in life, you always want to find a reason for it. There has to be a reason, right? Bad things don't just happen, especially to good people.
"So we sit around and try to make sense of it all, and the only sense we can make is that we probably deserved it, so we make up these ideas in our heads." He linked his fingers behind his head and stretched out. "Like, maybe if I didn't eat that cookie when we were thirteen that caused your best friends to fight for months, then maybe I wouldn't have turned out gay." I didn't miss the knowing look he gave Ethan before continuing. "Like that night—for months I blamed myself, too."
"What?" Ethan asked.
I just sat there and let his words sink in.
"Yeah, remember how I asked the cab driver to pull over so I could take a piss? What would've happened if I didn't? Maybe we would've got here on time, maybe the same time as them. It could've all been prevented."
"That's stupid," I said.
Then he turned to the others. "Ethan?"
Shit.
I waited for him to say something. Reprimand him in some way. Talk to him like I was a kid and Ethan was the bully. Instead, he took the few steps towards him and looked down at him on the sofa. "You need me to look at your hand, son?"
Ethan's eyes went wide. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught. He cleared his throat and shook his head. "Um. No, Sir. It's fine. Thank you."
Dad nodded once. "If you're sure."
"I'm sure," Ethan confirmed.
Then Dad turned to me. "If you can deal with the pain for a night, maybe you boys should have a drink together, talk some stuff out. Clear the air. Start the painkillers tomorrow."
Two minutes later he was gone.
"So, mini golf?" I said to everyone.
Ethan got up. "If you can deal with the pain for one night, let's do it."
"Dude, your dad's my hero," Tristan declared.
Yeah. He was mine, too.
30
Logan
"What's in it?"
The others laughed while Ethan shrugged. "It's magic."
I warily took the flask from his hand and sniffed.
He rolled his eyes dramatically. "It won't kill you. You have to do it, those are the rules of mini golf."
I looked at Amanda. She just smiled and nodded her head. "Have you had this before?"
She shook her head and raised the car keys. "Designated driver, remember?"
Ethan made a huffing sound. "Just drink it, asshole," he teased. "What? Did you turn into a pussy the year you were gone?"
I took a swig. It tasted like gasoline. My face contorted.
Ethan laughed.
And that's how it went.
Apparently, the rules of mini golf were this: For every putt, you drink. That's it. After the third hole, I could barely feel the soreness in my body. "This shit's better than painkillers," I announced loudly.
Amanda snorted with laughter.
"Yeah, buddy!" Ethan yelled, then put his putter between his legs and started humping it.
"Oh my God," Amanda muttered next to me. "You're so mature."
He winked at her, right before Tristan mimicked his actions. So there they were, side by side, humping their putters. Amanda's laugh bubbled out of her. I loved hearing her laugh. I turned around and kissed her, probably longer, and deeper than what's publicly acceptable.
"Get a room," some dick yelled.
Then Lexi spoke up, "Fuck off, asshole. They've been apart for a year. Let them make out."
"Dude, that's my sister." Ethan made a disgusted sound.
"Could be worse," Tristan stated. "At least it's not Alexis again."
We pulled apart from the kiss, but not each other. My hands gripped her waist, her hands fisted into my shirt. "Does he know?" I whispered.
"I don't know," she whispered back.
Then we slowly, and simultaneously, turned to face Ethan.
He smirked, sauntered over to Lexi and put his arm around her shoulders. "Luckily, she's moved on to bigger and better things.
***
By the tenth hole, we were plastered. Beyond wasted. I couldn't feel my body, let alone how sore it could be. Everything was numb. Amanda had to hold me up. "It wears off real quick," Amanda told me.
"I just want to make out with you all the time."
"What?" She laughed.
"Your ass."
She laughed again. "You're not making much sense, babe."
I shrugged as we watched Tristan take his eleventy-third shot, all whilst Ethan and Alexis pointed and laughed at him. Then I felt her hand curl around my arm, and all of a sudden I was being dragged away. She took me to a spot hidden by a palm tree and a mini windmill. "Oooh, I like your thinking," I told her. She pressed her body lightly against mine and tilted her head to the side, allowing me access to start kissing her neck. Her fingers curled into my hair.
"I'm sorry." She sighed. "I feel bad, like I should be really pissed at Ethan for what he did to you, not be out here laughing and hanging out with him he hasn't even said sorry yet."
"It's fine." I sucked lightly on her shoulder. "It could be worse. He could've just beaten the shit out of me and forbid us to see each other."
She snorted. "Forbid? What is this? The eighteen hundreds? Besides, you really think anyone can stop us from seeing each other?"
I pulled back and watched as her face searched mine, waiting for an answer. I wanted to tell her that they could. That I respected Ethan enough that if he said we couldn't, then I wouldn't. But I couldn't lie to her. "Truth?"
"No," she answered. "Lie to me."
"I don't think anything, or anyone, is ever going to keep me away from you. I love you way too much. You're my heart, my world, my light."
***
Amanda was right. Whatever Ethan had in the flask was killer, but it did wear off quick enough. By the time we'd gotten home, my body was still numb, but my mind was sobering up. It was the same for all of us, which meant only one thing.
Beers in the backyard.
The girls stayed inside, something about catching up on TV. I heard them giggling about some guy who got cast in that Fifty Shades movie. Whatever.
Half an hour later, we were a mess again.
"I can't believe the shit Amanda said last night." Ethan's cap was pulled low on his head as he eyed the night sky.
"What part?" Tristan asked.
I sat up and waited for Ethan to speak.
"That shit—you know, how she blames herself for what happened that night."
I kicked my legs out in front of me. "I know, right? Like it's anyone's fault but mine."
"Psshh," he replied. "Dude, it's not your fault, either."
My eyes narrowed at him. "How is it not—"
"You know what I think?" Tristan cut in, putting his finger up in the air like he was preparing to enlighten us with a piece of wisdom. "I think it's human nature to blame yourself. When things fuck up in life, you always want to find a reason for it. There has to be a reason, right? Bad things don't just happen, especially to good people.
"So we sit around and try to make sense of it all, and the only sense we can make is that we probably deserved it, so we make up these ideas in our heads." He linked his fingers behind his head and stretched out. "Like, maybe if I didn't eat that cookie when we were thirteen that caused your best friends to fight for months, then maybe I wouldn't have turned out gay." I didn't miss the knowing look he gave Ethan before continuing. "Like that night—for months I blamed myself, too."
"What?" Ethan asked.
I just sat there and let his words sink in.
"Yeah, remember how I asked the cab driver to pull over so I could take a piss? What would've happened if I didn't? Maybe we would've got here on time, maybe the same time as them. It could've all been prevented."
"That's stupid," I said.
