Page 60 of Try Me

Mark:Work tonight?

Chet:Yep, but I’ll probably get cut early. Have to study too, tho.

Mark:Okay nvm

Chet:But since you already took Carroll’s class, maybe u could help me?

Mark:Happy to hold the textbook in front of your face while you’re on your knees.

Chet:Or you can get on all fours and I can set it on your back. Seems the more practical solution if you ask me.

Mark:I didn’t ask.

Mark:And you know what? Fuck you for getting me hard during a presentation.

Chet:You texted me.

We managedto ignore each other until lunchtime, and then Mark followed me out to my car in the parking garage. I barely got the door closed before he had my dick in his mouth while I pawed his pants open and jacked him off.

The next two weeks passed like that. We worked on our project, argued about stupid shit, then disappeared to get off. Sneaking around with him was the first slice of genuine elation I’d felt in a long time.

20

Mark

Friday afternoons were usually spent at the Sigma Psi house, rain or shine, and even in the summer. Unlike some of the other Greek houses on campus that kicked members out for the summer or let nonmember summer students rent the rooms, Sigma Psi kept the rooms open for members only. Some guys even moved in just for the summer because it was pretty much a 24/7 party.

But Friday afternoons were always for hanging out with fellow brothers before house parties erupted or bar hopping began. It was the one day of the week I really looked forward to. Even Nate usually managed to drag himself away from Eric long enough for the rest of us to remember he was actually a pretty cool guy.

The firm let us go early on Fridays, too, so once I got home and changed out of my work clothes, I headed there.

Sam:Dude Cam is here!

I froze on the sidewalk and read the message again. An odd numbness spread through my chest and was shortly replaced by tiny, sharp jabs of anger. Clutching my phone in my hand, I considered turning around and going home. But seconds later, I was striding toward the frat house, buzzing with rogue emotions.

I found Cam in the library, shooting a game of pool with Jacob, Eddie, and Sam.

Sam tipped a nod my way when he spotted me. “Hey, man, speak of the devil.”

I leaned in the doorway as Cam straightened from making a shot and turned around. His cheeks reddened, and then he inhaled, a smile wobbling as it struggled to anchor at the corners of his mouth. “I was wondering when you’d show up,” he said, like he hadn’t vanished off the face of the earth for over a year.

Sam grinned obliviously. “Dude, Cam’s coming back in the fall. How tight is that? Wanna get in on this next game?” He gestured toward the pool table.

“Nope. I’m gonna to grab a beer and head out back,” I said woodenly. To Cam, I nodded. “Welcome back, man.” Surely he hadn’t been expecting a welcome wagon from me, but the way his smile vanished so completely suggested he’d expected more than I’d offered. Whatever.

I stalked toward the kitchen, unsurprised when I heard footsteps following after me.

In the kitchen, I snapped a beer from a six-pack and kicked the fridge door shut behind me.

“Mark?” Cam had never called me Farrow like most everyone else. Always Mark. He hovered in the entryway. His hair was longer, a muddy gold that curled over the edges of his collar. Everything about him, even his posture, suggested uneasiness. “I know you’re pissed at me. You have every right to be.”

I cracked the seal on the beer and took a long swallow. I was supposed to say something, but I couldn’t think of what. I was afraid if I opened my mouth, I’d just start tearing him apart.

“Can we go somewhere else and talk?” Hesitation thickened the lines in his forehead and turned his mouth down. “I just think…somewhere else…yeah.” He shook his head and blew out another deep breath.

Freshman year he’d followed me around all over campus, so fucking excited and eager to be at the U, so damn intent on rushing one of the big frats on campus. He’d asked me a billion questions about pledging. I’d been as shocked as he was when he got matched to Sigma Psi. As green as he was, I didn’t think he had a shot at making it through all the hazing. With every fresh, hellish wave, I kept expecting him to tap out. But he didn’t. Even when he fucking hated it, probably more than the rest of us—because we’d always known what was coming—he gritted his teeth and took what came to him, did what was asked of him, and didn’t open his mouth about it.

I remembered his face the day we got our pins, the sheer joy in it. You’d have thought he’d been elected president of the Universe, he was so damn happy. “I fucking knew I could do it,” he’d said breathlessly, cheeks so flushed with pride that it’d made me ache thinking that someday life would probably knock the shine off of him as surely as it had me. Over time he’d gotten wilder, looser, hedonistic, even, like he wanted to live as big and loud as possible to make up for all the time he’d spent under the thumbs of his parents and their church.