Thank you, readers, for following along with this story!
I always welcome and appreciate your comments, questions, and reflections on the story. You can send them to me at romanjwrites@gmail.com
If you would like to receive notifications when a new chapter is posted, please drop me a note there, and I will add you to the list.
November Sophomore Year
"Pete,
"I wish I were a bigger person who actually had the balls to say this to your face instead of in an email, but I'm not. And I'm sorry for that.
"I'm writing because everyone who's ever loved me has told me I bottle things up too much and that I suck at talking about anything I'm feeling. And they're right. I know I need to do better. I also know my track record with you on actually saying what I'm feeling is especially terrible. So, I want to try something else and write it out to you instead, even if it's the coward's way out because I've failed at telling you any of this when you're literally right there every single day.
"What I want to tell you is an even bigger apology: I'm sorry for how I've treated you. I know I pushed you away last year when I was trying to make sense of what I was figuring out about myself. And now I've been pushing you away even more this year because I've been paranoid I might slip up and do something that makes it obvious to everyone here what's really going on between us. I'm sorry, Pete. It's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. And you don't deserve all the ways I've been shutting you out. I miss you. I miss us. And as fucking idiotic as it sounds to write that when we live together, it's how I feel because I know I've put up a wall between us this fall. I know I've been a dick and that I've hurt you, and I'm so sorry for that. Please know it's not what I want to be doing. Ever.
"I'm not looking to make excuses or to minimize anything I've done, but I do want to give you an explanation. I've been pushing you away this year because I've been struggling to accept what you actually want from me. I was hurt by what you said to me that first night you came to visit me at home. That we're just friends with benefits. It hurt to hear that from you because I didn't think that's what we were to each other. And it's not what I wanted us to be either. You were something serious for me, and it made me angry to hear that I'm not like that for you.
"Now, Pete, I hope reading that you made me angry doesn't make you freak out. I don't want you to spiral on some guilt trip about it. It's my reaction, my feeling, and I have to own that and all the shitty things it's made me do since then. You want what you want from me. You shouldn't be sorry for that. You have every right to feel what you feel- or don't feel. It's okay.
"My point is I'm sorry I've been so shitty at the friends part of being friends with benefits with you. I've been a lousy friend to you this year because I've been childish about not getting everything I want, even when I don't deserve it. But you deserve a friend who acts better than I have been.
"Okay, that was actually the easy part. The hard part is I don't know what to say or do next about any of this. I'll reiterate that none of this is your fault. It's not your fault that you only feel a certain way about me, especially after what I did this summer. And I hope this doesn't come off like me saying I think how you feel is a problem that you need to fix. Feel what you feel. Just don't apologize or feel guilty about it.
"The only problem here is me and how I've behaved. And I want to change that. I want to do better, and I want to be the kind of friend you deserve. And friends are honest with each other, so thank you for reading this and for hearing me out. You're so fucking awesome, Pete. And even though I'm afraid I love you too much to just like you, that's not an excuse to shut you out like I have been. Please believe me when I say I want to do right by you. Always.
Max"
I clicked send on that email, and then I exhaled a long breath as I slumped back into my chair.
I'd worried over the first part of that message. I started, stopped, re-drafted, and tinkered with it over and over. But then I kept getting stuck on how to end it. After staring out the window of our dorm room for about an hour, lost in the murkiness of my thoughts, the final paragraph flowed out of me in one pass, and I hit the button to send it off to Pete before I allowed myself to overthink it even more.
As I sat alone in our dorm room now, I clicked over to the folder of sent messages in my email and reread it all another time. Everything loomed on my screen crystalized and final, with no taking it back now. And my eyes fixated on just one line:
"I love you too much to just like you."
Oh shit.
There it was, finally out there.
I got up from my desk and flopped down onto my bed. I curled up facing the wall and closed my eyes. I hoped this was for the best. Maybe what I needed to do all along was to just say it to Pete, to put it out there so I could finally let it go. I knew full well this was going to be awkward and what I wished I would hear in return wasn't going to happen. But I hoped speaking its name might allow me to finally give up what I wished I was to Pete so I could focus instead on what he actually wanted me to be.
I buried my head into my pillow and waited. I knew Pete wouldn't be back for at least another hour, but I prayed he would see and read the email while he was working his shift for his job in the library. I tried, unsuccessfully, not to obsess about what Pete's reaction might be. I didn't want to project what Pete might be thinking as he read all that, so I tried to brace myself for whatever might come by focusing my thoughts on the happier times between us instead.
Times like yesterday.
I'd run into Pete as I was walking across campus just before lunch. I was dragging after my morning classes and didn't really feel like eating in the dining hall again, so I asked Pete if he'd walk into town with me to grab some pizza instead.
It was nothing extraordinary.
It was exactly the kind of mundane thing we'd done together all the time last year but never had this year because I was too paranoid about slipping up and doing something obvious that might expose Pete's secret to everyone here. But doing something as simple and as stupid as eating lunch with Pete again yesterday had made me remember how good it felt to hang out together, in the daylight, like old times. It reminded me that being Pete's friend, just joking around with each other and laughing together at the sports blooper reel the pizza place had playing up on their TV could make me feel even better than being locked away in our room with my dick in Pete's mouth.
And, fuck, Pete had seemed so happy yesterday too.
Pete looked more relaxed than I'd seen him in a long time. It seemed like some tension hanging between us had been broken. And the whole thing, as simple as it was, made it so clear how much I missed feeling that ease between us- and how much I was to blame for us having drifted so far from it.
When we got back to campus after lunch, Pete gave me a strange look when we were parting ways to head to our afternoon classes that had haunted me ever since that moment. We were just doing our usual fist bump as we said goodbye when Pete said to me:
"We should do this more often, yeah?"
And I remembered, crystal clearly, that Pete was smiling at me when he said that. But that wasn't all. I also remembered how Pete's eyes didn't at all match that expression on his face. No, it felt like they were pulling at mine with something much sadder, and that look I saw in them then made it clear the "this" that Pete meant didn't really have anything to do with pizza.
It was my worst fear right there, staring me in the face: I'd misjudged everything again.
I'd focused on the benefits over the friends part of being Pete's friends with benefits this year, and it was hurting us both.
After yet another sleepless night, something inside me finally broke today as I kept thinking about what I'd seen in Pete's eyes in that moment. I knew that I had to just tell him. I had to name it and tell Pete how fucking sorry I was for everything. It was the only way to break us out of this fucked up spiral I'd created.
I still didn't trust myself to find the words to speak to Pete though, so I wrote him that email instead. And now I waited, not knowing what to expect from Pete's reaction.
I just wanted to make things better between us.
I laid in my bed with my eyes pressed closed until the sound of footsteps running down the hallway outside our door abruptly jolted me out of my thoughts.
I bolted upright in my bed, and I'd just barely sprung up to my feet when Pete barrelled in through the door. Pete lunged across the room before I could even say anything to greet him, and he hugged me.
Tight.
Startled, I wrapped both of my arms around Pete and just hugged him back. Pete buried his head in the crook of my neck, and his face felt hot against my skin.
Minutes went by silently.
Pete's breathing was labored, coming out faster and faster, and I could feel his shoulders shaking as he held me close. As the moment stretched on, it occurred to me: Even in all this time, we'd never just held each other like this before. My heart was racing now, catching up to the pace of Pete's breath, and I wasn't sure what to think. It was clear that I'd upset Pete, but I didn't know why or what was running through his mind.
Finally, Pete pulled his head up from where he'd buried it against my neck. The air in our room felt cool as it hit a damp spot on my skin.
"Max..." Pete started, but then his voice broke when his hazel brown eyes finally met mine. I just swallowed dryly and nodded, bracing myself.
"It was a lie," Pete continued, trying again to find his voice. "I... I didn't mean it." Then Pete dropped his head back down against my neck and inhaled deeply as his arms pulled me into him even more tightly.
"Mean what?" I asked, hugging him back as I felt his shoulders start to shake again.
"Friends with benefits," Pete said. And then he lifted his face back up to look at me again. My heartbeat was racing even faster now with a hope that was beginning to bloom inside my chest. "I... I thought that's what you wanted to hear."
And again, Pete dropped his face down against my neck, so the words he whispered next came out muffled into my skin. "God, I'm such a stupid..."
Pete just trailed off. Or maybe whatever else he said next was drowned out now by the sound of my own pulse thundering through my eardrums as I started to let myself think that maybe...
I felt Pete take in a deep breath, and then he pulled back from how tightly I was hugging him just enough to be able to bring his eyes back up to mine.
"I love you," Pete said.
"I love you, Pete," I replied, somehow, even though it felt like I'd completely stopped breathing when I heard Pete say those words.
"I love you so fucking much," Pete said, and then a strangled sound that was something half-way between a laugh and a cry escaped from his lips. "And I'm so sorry I said that."
"No," I shook my head and pulled Pete back against me tightly. "I'm sorry for what I've put you through."
Pete laughed, his chest shaking against mine with relief and catharsis. Pete was about to drop his head down to my shoulder again, but I stopped him and found his lips with mine. I kissed Pete, slow and deep, and I could feel his whole body relaxing into mine as I held him close.
"I think we should talk more," I said after we finally had to break from that kiss to catch our breath.
Pete laughed again and shook his head. "No shit."
"God, I'm so glad I wrote to you at least."
"And I'm glad you had the guts to actually send it," Pete replied, a smile starting to tug at the corners of his mouth. And then he finally stepped back from me, breaking out of the hug we'd kept on each other this whole time. "I, uhhh,.." Pete began, but then he trailed off and dropped his eyes from mine down to the ground and ran one of his hands through his hair.
Pete let out a long breath, and then he looked back up at me and nodded. Pete's eyes were latched onto mine, but that nod seemed like it was something Pete was affirming more to himself than to me. He walked across our room over to his closet, and then I watched him dig out a shoe box he had stashed away in the back of it. Pete opened up the box, and I saw him reach under the shoes and pull out a folded up piece of paper that was tucked away under some tissue paper lining the bottom. He put the box down and walked back over to me.
"I, umm, I wrote something too, after I went to see you in New Mexico," Pete said, handing the paper over to me and then swallowing down something in this throat. "But I didn't have the balls to show you. Guess the joke's on me now."
My heart was pounding again as I dropped my eyes down from Pete's face to the paper I now held in my hands. I unfolded it and saw it was a piece of stationary with the logo of the hotel in Florida where Pete had gone with his dad at the end of the summer. Pete's handwriting was scrawled out across the page.
I glanced back up at Pete. His eyes looked so nervous as he was watching my face. I looked back down at the paper and read what Pete had written:
"I remember thinking I'll go on forever only knowing I'll see you again But I know The touch of you is so hard to forget And like that touch I know no other
"And for sure we have fumbled In the risk of each other But would you fumble Around the world with me
"I'll be falling all about my own thing And you're the heaviest weight When you're not here That's hung around my head
"But your lips burn wild Through the fears I've piled And in your eyes The greatest view Do what you will, always Walk where you like, your steps Do as you please I'll back you up
"I remember thinking Sometimes we walk together Sometimes we run away But I know No matter how fast we are running Somehow we keep Somehow we keep up with each other
"I'll be falling all about my own thing And you're the heaviest weight When you're not here That's hung around my head
"But your lips burn wild Through the fears I've piled And in your eyes The greatest view Do what you will, always Walk where you like, your steps Do as you please I'll back you up"
I was speechless.
It felt like the wind had been completely knocked out of me.
"Poetry?" I asked finally, looking back up from the paper to Pete's face.
Pete laughed nervously. He was biting his lower lip, and he looked worried as he was watching my expression. "Yeah."
I shook my head in disbelief and dropped down to a seat on Pete's bed. My legs felt shaky now too.
I looked back down at the paper and read it all again. Then, when I lifted my eyes up to meet Pete's, my mouth dropped open, but I was still speechless.
"So, uhh, surprise," Pete said, shaking his head as he looked down at me. "I'm so fucking gay for you that I had to write a poem about it."
"Pete..." I started but didn't get any further. I didn't have any words.
A nervous laugh gurgled out of Pete's throat. "Too much?"
"No," I shook my head slowly, looking back down at the paper in my hands, still stunned. Then I brought my eyes back up to Pete's. "I'm not enough for this."
Pete's shoulders dropped when I said that. "Don't talk about my boyfriend like that."
Hearing that word from Pete... fuck, it only made it even harder for me to find the words to say. I rose back up to my feet and kissed Pete again. And when it ended, Pete just rested his forehead against mine and hugged me close to him. It seemed like he was having just as hard of a time remembering to breathe as I was right now.
"Hey, I'm like a mess right now," he said, pulling back to look at me again. "And maybe this is stupid. But I have an idea."
"What?" I asked, relieved to see that Pete was smiling at me again.
"Hold on," he replied, stepping back from me a little bit.
Pete pulled his phone out of the pocket of his jeans, scrolled through it for a few seconds, and then started pacing around the room after someone on the other end answered the call he made:
"Hey, it's Peter!... Yeah, hi, how are you?... Good, good. I'm good. But, umm, school is so crazy this week... And I know it's out of the blue, but do you remember that favor you said?... Yeah, that... Well, it's rude and last minute, but is there any chance I could this weekend?... Really? Oh, man, thank you! You're a lifesaver... No, thank you so much... Umm, is tonight too soon?... Wow, yes. Thank you! Thank you so much... Hold on, let me just grab a pen so I can write it down... Okay, ready... Perfect... Thank you. No, seriously, thank you... Yes. I'll tell him... You too... Have a great weekend too."
Pete ended the call, and a full-on grin was stretching across his face now as he walked back towards me.
"What was that about?" I asked.
"We're getting out of here," Pete smiled.
"What?"
"That was my uncle," Pete said, pulling me back into a hug. "He's got a vacation house out on the coast, and he said I could go and use it any time he's not there."
"Seriously??"
"Pack a bag," Pete grinned. "We're going right now."
"But what about-...?" I started before Pete cut me off.
"-... Fuck it. This is more important."
"Yeah," I said, shaking my head in disbelief that this was actually happening. But I felt myself smiling back at Pete's grin. "Fuck, okay. Let's do this."
Pete leaned in and kissed me again. And when we were done, he was smiling at me in a way that it felt like I hadn't seen him do in forever. "I need to do some extremely gay shit with you this weekend," he grinned. "And we're gonna talk. Like for real."
"Deal," I smiled back at him. "I, uhh... I really fucking love you, Pete."
"I love you too," Pete said, kissing me one more time. And then he stepped back over to my closet and picked up the bag I always used for overnight trips and tossed it over to me. "Now hurry up."
I genuinely hadn't known what would happen next when I'd sent that email to Pete today, but I hadn't dared to expect- or even to hope- for any of this. My head was spinning as we hastily packed and then hit the road in Pete's car. I could hardly believe this was real.
In fact, I was so lost in thought as Pete drove us to his uncle's place that it genuinely startled me to hear my own voice speaking out loud to him:
"You were surprised," I said.
"About what?" Pete asked, stealing a glance over at me.
"That I love you."
Pete didn't respond right away. His mouth dropped open to say something, but I could see him searching for his words as he kept his eyes on the road ahead of us.
"Fuck, I hate that," I said, shaking my head and speaking into Pete's silence. "It should've been obvious. I mean, if this comes as any fuckin' surprise to you, then I'm really not doing something right here. Even if I was too much of a dumbshit to say it, I should've been acting like it so you would've known."
"No, it's..." Pete shook his head slowly. "It's on me, too. I don't think I ever would have let myself believe it, no matter what you did. I never thought..." And Pete trailed off there and just shook his head again.
"What?? Tell me."
"I've wanted you so much. I never thought it could be anything except in my head. That you would really..." Pete glanced over at me again, his eyes looking sad.
"No, believe it," I said, straightening up in my seat. "Believe me."
"I... I do. Now." Pete exhaled, looking back at the road again. "It's just... It's been so long. And I kept telling myself that I couldn't, that I shouldn't feel what I feel about you."
"Why?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Pete said, a half laugh escaping under his breath.
"No," I shook my head. "I'm dense. Help me understand. Maybe, like, start from the beginning."
"Oh God," Pete laughed. "Which one?"
"Uhh, the real one. The one that matters to you."
"I don't even know," Pete said, looking back over at me quickly. "I've had no one. I've never even talked about any of it."
"You have me. Tell me."
I watched Pete exhale another long, slow breath, and I saw his grip on the steering wheel flex tighter.
"It's okay, Pete. We have all weekend, right? Just get us there. And then, whenever you're ready, I'm here."
"Shit," Pete laughed, glancing at me again.
"Yeah, I know," I nodded. "Remember, I suck at this too. But it's better if we do, right?"
I grabbed one of Pete's hands and squeezed it tight.
"Yeah," Pete nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth again. "One hundred percent."
"Just drive," I said, squeezing Pete's hand again. "We have time."
To be continued.