“The shower curtain?” He somehow makes his answer sound like a question. “Well, the thing that holds the curtain. The rod? Hehe. Rod. That’s what I’m kinda sitting on. But it’s bending under me, so I have a knee over the shower arm, and I’m holding on to this cute little miniature chandelier. Have I sent you a picture yet? It’s adorable. You know, if you would take me up on my offer to hang out, you could come see it in person.”
He’s been asking via text incessantly. At least twice a day. I’ve been ignoring him. “I’ve been busy.” I give him the same excuse I always use. “Now, put your feet on the floor before you fall, and I’ll tell you all about—” There’s a loud crash, accompanied by a guttural cry. We both go quiet for a moment before I break the sudden silence. “You fell, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” he hisses. “I did. I’m okay, though. Feet on the ground—whole body on the ground, actually. Totally safe. Ready to listen. Go ahead.” He sounds slightly out of breath but eager to hear the gossip.
“It’s really not a big deal,” I say, reclining back in my lawn chair. It creaks ominously, and I mentally add a couch to the list of things I need to buy. “My roommate was standing at the door with Aleks—”
“Who?”
My brows scrunch in confusion. “Aleks. Your gay idol?”
Micah groans like I am the one being difficult. “No! Who’s your roommate?”
“Oh. Ugh. Tahegin Ellingsworth.” I can’t keep the grumbly distaste out of my tone.
He takes a deep breath, and then he screams in my ear.
“Ow! What the fuck, Micah?” I take my headphones off and hold them away from my ears in case he decides to yell again.
Instead, he gushes like a tween meeting their favorite pop star. “Tahegin Ellingsworth is your fucking road roomie? Ohmygod, I swear I have had that exact sexual fantasy. You are so lucky.”
“He’s not that great,” I mutter under my breath.
“Not that great? Have you seen him? His skin is as flawless as his smile. Never a hair out of place. He only gets hotter the sweatier he gets. And those blue eyes? Swoon.”
“You did not just say ‘swoon.’”
Micah continues as if I didn’t speak. “And he’s bisexual. If you ever question your sexuality again—”
“We don’t speak of it,” I warn menacingly.
“Okay, okay!” he relents. “I’m just saying, he’s hot. Have you kissed Tahegin, too?”
“No. And don’t call him that. You don’t know him.”
His pout is audible. “You’re no fun.”
“Whatever. So. They’re bitching at the door, and Aleks keeps saying he won’t leave until he gets a good-night kiss. Ellingsworth refused—over and over and over again—so I kissed Aleks to make them stop. It worked.”
Micah lets out a wistful sigh. “What I wouldn’t give to be in your shoes.”
“They would be clown shoes on you.”
It’s true. Micah is a tiny thing—hence him being able to climb on top of the curtain rod without it immediately falling. He’s a good five inches shorter than me. Not really the athletic type, his body is slender, which means he has no problem showing off in sheer or cropped shirts—like Ellingsworth sometimes wears.
Why am I thinking about Ellingsworth right now?
“I’d look like a clown, too. My hair is bright red,” he explains. Though his hair is naturally light blond, he’s always dyeing it all sorts of crazy colors.
“You’re red now?” Last I saw, it was cotton candy blue.
He hums as if he’s been waiting for me to ask. “My friend just got signed on with this professional sports team, so I’m repping his team’s colors. Just in case he, I don’t know, invites me to a game at some point.”
“I didn’t realize you wanted to come.”
“Two words, Rix: football pants.”
Fed up with his antics, I hang up on him. But maybe—maybe—my lip twitches slightly upward on one side.
I’ll never admit it, though.
CHAPTER 6
TAHEGIN ELLINGSWORTH
“You can’t ignore me forever,” I declare without preamble as I plop down in the empty seat beside Avery.
Everyone gets an extra seat whenever we fly to away games, but most of us end up sitting with our friends anyway. Usually, I’ll meet up with Aleks, and the others will flock to us, but not today. As soon as the seat belt light went off, I bolted for Avery.
He started ignoring me after our first game, and the cold shoulder has only worsened the longer the season progresses. If I have anything to say about it, I won’t spend another night in our shared hotel room in awkward silence with him. I’ll pester him throughout our entire flight to Minnesota if that is what it takes.
Skipping my morning pills that first game had not been a good idea. It’s a good thing the coaches were letting other guys get some field time because I did not feel like my normal self again until over a week after I’d resumed my regular regimen. My therapist was not happy with me for that stunt.
Avery is wearing this year’s team hoodie and a pair of holey sweatpants. The deep red of the hoodie stands out against his fair skin, complementing the pale mocha freckles dusting his nose and cheeks—which also have a rouge tint today as well. Though his hair is in its usual messy style, it’s somewhat limp and duller beneath his hood, as if he didn’t wash it this morning. When he eventually lifts his eyes to me, I spot the dark half-moons just below them.
“Hey, are you okay?” I ask reflexively, forgetting all about my reason for coming over.
Those stormy greys stare unblinkingly at me, only a quarter of the amount of scorn as usual. He must feel really bad if he can’t manage to summon his signature scowl.
