Page 10

10

We spend the night pretty much like the one before. A few added activities. Rimming is definitely a go. Fisting ourselves together gets a standing ovation. Edging… we need to explore more. And we might have gotten close to a few other things.

But I can’t stop smiling. Me . Theo. The guy who’s been depression-incarnate for the last six months.

What does happiness feel like?

I never gave it much thought before, honestly. I just focused on the NFL. I thought that I’d be satisfied when I got there. That everything would shift into place once I was finally drafted.

But I never really thought about happiness .

Never thought that I would?—

“Wake up, Theo.” Carter’s breath tickles my ear, his chest warms my arm.

I roll over. “My dick can’t take anymore.”

“Don’t need your dick.” He laughs, way too loud and jubilant, and then kisses my temple. “Just you. We’re going somewhere.”

“You’re fucking with me.” I mumble, squeezing my eyes shut.

A pillow knocks the side of my face. “Theeeeoooo. I need you to get up.”

I groan. “Why?”

“I want to watch the sunrise with you.”

That gets me moving. I flop off the bed, then with my eyes barely open, I lurch to the bathroom to take a piss, wash my hands, and slip in my contacts.

We step outside, the early morning air cooling the sweat on my back. His hand slips into mine, our fingers lacing.

The sky’s still dark, the ocean the same color. It’s quiet—everything is clean, pristine again. I wonder if it’s because of those volunteers from Conserve Clua . I want to be part of something like that.

We walk along the beach, a foot away from the water, leaving footprints behind us.

It’s just us. Alone.

“Wanna sit?” Carter asks as the first streak of sunlight crests over the water.

We settle on the sand, flipping off our sandals and digging in our toes.

“I like it here,” I blurt out. Somehow, my head finds its way to Carter’s shoulder, his fingers squeezing mine tighter.

“Give me a fact,” he says.

“Vultures mate for life.” I lick my lips. “They’re partnership is cemented with a courtship ritual of strutting and head-bobbing.”

“I'm a fantastic strutter.” He wraps an arm around me. “Just in case you were curious.”

I smile. “I have no doubt.”

I dig my fingers under the sand, feeling the granules under my nails. The softness, the coolness below.

We watch the sunrise, streaking yellows and oranges across the sky. Lighting the tips of Carter’s hair and warming his eyes. We laugh. We talk about anything and everything. We appreciate being alive . Being together.

And I think about happiness.

The morning goes too fast. Shit needs to get packed, and the Uber needs to be ordered. We’re on a countdown to get back to IFU.

It feels like shoving myself into a straitjacket. Endless gray and mostly failed classes and people who look at me with pity in their eyes. And maybe coming out? I dunno. I want to, but I don’t feel equipped to handle much of anything right now.

I shove dirty, sandy clothes into my bag, trying not to think too much about it, and then force the zipper closed.

But Carter will be there.

That’s the only thing that matters.

I glance over at him. He’s sitting on the lid of his suitcase, bouncing to get the zipper pulled shut.

I smile. “You need help with that?”

He scoots to one side, and the other side pops open. “Come sit on this with me.”

I drop next to him, and together we tuck everything in and get it zipped.

“I bought so many damn Clua t-shirts.” He shoves his bag into the hallway before shouting for Rory and Dorian. “I’m gonna wear them nonstop.”

Then we’re suddenly at the checkout counter. Dorian orders an Uber to take us to the ferry, and it’s all going so fast.

But Rory and Dorian will be back in Colorado too.

I’ve got them.

I’ve got Carter.

I can look into therapy. Read some books. I dunno.

Regardless, it’ll be fine. All fine . I just need to?—

I reach a hand out, not sure what I’m doing, but then Carter is there, our fingers threading, his warm shoulder pressing against mine.

He tips closer. “I hope we sit next to each other on the plane.”

The ferry line is slammed, and I volunteer to wait, letting the guys wander around the shops along the pier. There are Clua trinkets and seashells, and farther down, an ice cream stand with a pink striped awning.

“Hey, Theo!” Carter’s voice booms from across the walkway. He waggles a silver keychain that looks like it has a whale on it.

“They have both our names, bro!” He’s so fucking exuberant. “I’m gonna buy this shit and give it to you! Like a penguin pebble. You can—?” He turns and his bag slams into the keychain stand. It wobbles, and in slow-mo fashion, it seesaws and then tips, taking him down with it, silver keychains clattering, the entire stand crashing to the ground while the man I’m ridiculously in love with bellows, “Holy fuck!”

Silence fills the pier. My heart launches into my chest. I’m halfway to him when he jumps to his feet.

“It’s okay, people!” He raises the keychain above his head. “I’ve still got it.”

And the only thing I can think is: that one . That’s the guy I want.

It’s a rush after that. I get the tickets and then help pick up the rest of the keychains, getting them all on their correct hooks. Before we know it, the ferry horn echoes.

Carter grabs all the gummy bears and Twizzlers he bought from the shop, and we head toward the ferry, nearly the last ones.

A breeze wells off the water, bringing with it that unique ocean scent. I can still feel granules of sand between my toes. The sun warms my shoulders.

I stop walking.

Rory and Dorian walk ahead, but Carter turns.

I’m just standing there.

I should be walking.

But I just… don’t. I’m holding onto my luggage, my eyes roving over Carter and the ferry behind him. Rory and Dorian stop, turning to look at me in question.

“Theo?” Carter steps back.

Rory yells something, then they turn and head toward the ferry.

My throat tightens. My feet are stuck.

“You shouldn’t always have to take care of me,” I say.

Carter’s forehead wrinkles. “You’re just going through a hard time. You’d do it for me too.”

“Yes.” I nod. “But I should be able to do it for myself.”

In a montage of seconds, I see the future spinning out. Returning to IFU. That weight on my shoulders, pulling me down, Carter having to constantly pick me back up.

He would too. He’d pick me up, and he’d keep smiling, and he’d never complain.

“I can’t go.” I say it on an exhale. A wash of relief.

And a cold snap of fear.

What am I doing?

No fucking clue.

“What?” Carter blinks.

“I can’t go.” My bag drops to the ground, and I breathe—a great big inhale.

The lines in his forehead deepen. “You want to stay here?”

“Yeah.” I swallow. “You need to graduate, get that teaching degree. And I… I need to heal.” My voice cracks.

I need to get back to me.

I don’t think I can do that in Colorado.

Jesus, that’s preposterous though. Stay here ? People don’t go on spring break and just decide to stay.

Carter hesitates. When his lips finally part, I’m ready for him to tell me that this is ridiculous. That it makes no sense. That there’s no way I can stay. That I need to?—

“ Good .” He takes another step forward, close enough that he could kiss me if he wanted.

I can’t believe I’m doing this. “You don’t have to wait or anything. I get that?—?”

“Of course I’m gonna wait.” He tosses down his bag, his hand cupping my neck, palm warm. “At the end of this story, I’m going to get the guy.”

Jesus, Carter.

“You already have him.”

Carter’s thumb rasps along the rise of my cheek, like he doesn’t hear the ferry horn blaring behind him. “I’m gonna miss you so much.”

“I’ll be there for your graduation,” I say. “Two months.”

“Two months.” His eyes move around my face. “I’ll text you when we land.”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. I don’t want to be away from him.

I squeeze his biceps. “I love you, bro.”

He laughs, so happily, and then leans into my ear, warm and big, surrounding me. “I love you too.”

He presses something hard into my palm–the keychain–and then he’s gone. Heading towards the ferry and Dorian and Rory. They ask him something as soon as he boards, but he shakes his head and turns to look at me.

I stand there, watching, until the ferry is a speck on the horizon.

I feel like crying. I feel like breaking apart.

But I don’t because for the first time in six months, I might not have a plan, but I have a purpose.

My thumb rolls over the keychain and I glance down, expecting to see my name. I stop.

He didn’t give me the one with my name. He gave me one with his.

Carter , written around a spouting, happy whale. And I’m guessing he has one with my name.

We’re both going to get the guy.

At the end of this story, we’ll do whatever it takes.

Just wait and see.