The List - 16. Chapter 16: Bryan

Specimen’s Name: Bryan

Height: 6’3’’

Build: 180, muscular

Age: 28

Occupation: Electrical engineer

Dimensions: 8.5 inches

The fight with Kyle hit me hard. I woke up early the next morning, uncharacteristic for me, and left before he even stirred. I left him a note that said ‘Love, Me’ and as cheesy as it was, I couldn’t think of anything more appropriate to say. It wasn’t an answer to his question, but I figured him knowing that I did love him in some way was better than nothing.

The question nagged at me as I drove home with my brother’s present in the passenger’s seat, a constant reminder of what I was driving away from.

And as I inched further and further south, I couldn’t help but get upset with Kyle. How dare he put me in this position over a hook-up while we were broken up? How could he honestly, at 18 years old, expect me to know the kind of person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with? I wasn’t going to be with Kyle out of fear of what dumping him would do, but I wasn’t going to break up with him now because of the possibility of rocky roads ahead. By the time I pulled into my driveway, I was completely convinced that Kyle was being unfair and that I was in the right.

I moped around for the rest of the week, not really participating in the pre-Christmas festivities at my house. While my mom and sister baked sugar cookies in the kitchen the next night, a tradition I usually helped with, I sat in my bedroom aimlessly flipping through magazines.

Just before dinner, Dylan peeked his head into my bedroom. “You doing alright, Coop?” he asked me.

“Yeah,” I said, unconvincingly. “I’m fine.”

“Doesn’t look that way,” he said, stepping in and closing the door. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” I replied. “I’m just thinking about things.”

“Wanna dish?” he asked. He sat down at my computer desk and looked at me. “I don’t know much about how your people do things, but I can listen if you want to talk it out.”

“You don’t have to,” I said. “It’s really stupid.”

“If it’s got you this upset, it isn’t stupid,” Dylan said. Good point, I thought.

“So I told you about Kyle at Thanksgiving,” I said. “The guy I spent the weekend with.”

“Yeah,” Dylan nodded.

“Well, we kind of broke up right after that,” I said. “And it was a huge thing, I was really pissed at him, whatever. And then while I was on the mend, I started, I don’t know, having feelings for this other guy. Riley.”

“Ok, so Kyle and Riley,” my brother said. “I’m keeping up.”

“And I don’t want to have feelings for Riley because he’s totally a rebound catch, but he’s such a nice guy. I mean, top of the line, really nice, amazing in bed…”

“I don’t know if we need that sort of detail,” Dylan interrupted. I smiled.

“Anyway, Riley helped me get over Kyle, sort of. Until I found out that Kyle dropped the Sigmas because of me, which is a huge deal, mind you. And it’s taken a while, but I forgave Kyle. While I was developing feelings for Riley,” I said. It was the first time I’d confessed out loud that I had developed feelings for Riley. They were nowhere near as strong as my feelings for Kyle, but it kind of made me question whether or not I was ready to give up all other guys in order to protect Kyle’s heart. If there were still guys out there I could develop feelings for, didn’t I owe it to myself to find them?

After I explained this to Dylan, he said: “Are you fucking kidding me?” I looked at him. “You’re 18; you’re a freshman; you barely have hair on your chest. There are a ton of guys or girls or whatever the hell you’re into that you haven’t even met yet that you will develop feelings for. Mom and dad are gonna insist you go abroad before graduation, and you know what that means? There will be a ton of foreign guys or girls that you’ll develop feelings for. Most of them won’t shave like you’re used to, but whatever, you get past that,” he continued, alluding to his summer in Italy.

“Can we keep this focused?” I said.

“What I’m saying, little brother, is this. Don’t let this ultimatum by this Kyle guy force you into a hole that you’re not ready to get into… so to speak,” he said.

“But I love Kyle,” I said, realizing how weak the words sounded even to me.

“And for now, I’m sure you do,” he said, his tone growing somewhat patronizing. “I’m sure you do.”

I told Dylan that I’d be down to dinner in a minute, and I took a little bit more time to think. I knew my mood was weighing everyone around me down, so I decided to think about this objectively. Make a tentative decision and stick with it so I could go back to enjoying my vacation.

Riley was like a shiny new toy that had swooped in to replace Kyle. But Kyle felt like the real deal to me. And even though Dylan might have been right— what did I know about love at this age— I couldn’t deny how I felt right now and I was willing to take a chance on that.

I knew what I had to do, so I headed down to dinner determined to brighten my mood.

Kyle called me after dinner that night, and we talked for an hour, not once discussing what he’d told me last night. I was hoping he realized how ridiculous he’d sounded to ask me to make that kind of commitment and had decided to let it go.

After I got off of the phone with Kyle, I decided to call Riley. I’d talked to him a couple of times over break, but this time I decided to call him instead of vice versa.

“Hey,” he said when he answered his phone. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”

“Why not?” I asked, not sure how to take that.

“It’s just that I always call you is all,” he said. “Anyway, how’s home?”

“Cold,” I said. “How’s your vacation going?”

“Well there’s a lot of yogurt here,” he said. I smiled. “It would be great to share it with someone.”

“Anyone in mind?” I asked. I was standing in my bedroom, walking around, and trying to figure out how to tell him that it was over.

“I can think of someone,” he said. “Get on a plane to California.”

“Let me put you on hold while I call up my private jet.” Riley laughed. “Listen,” I said. “I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas and I didn’t want to bother you and your family tomorrow.”

“I appreciate that,” he said. “I kinda miss you.”

I could do it here. I could let him down here, and ruin his Christmas. Or I could I say the words back to him and give him a false sense of hope.

“I miss you too,” I said. “Kinda.” I decided to go with hope.

The next day was Christmas Eve and as usual, it was a big ordeal in my house. My oldest sister and her fiancé came over in the afternoon. By then, my mom had cooked up an impressive holiday spread and everyone’s gifts were placed under the tree. Along with all of the Secret Santa presents were a gift that my dad always bought for the house— a gaming console or a new television or something big that we could all use. My sister’s fiancé had brought a gift for my mom and as we were all gathering around to open presents I counted them; there were still two boxes that I couldn’t place.

“Who are those for?” I asked, sitting down with a handful of kettle corn.

“They both came for you in the mail this morning,” my mom said, handing them to me. “I guess some friends from school sent you some gifts.”

I got a look from my brother and my sister, who both knew about Kyle. He wouldn’t send me a gift, would he? I felt instantly embarrassed and nauseous. Why wouldn’t my mom tell me I got two packages instead of waiting for me to open them in front of everyone?

“Are you going to open them?” my brother asked. I could have punched him.

“I will later,” I replied, setting them down next to me.

“Oh come on, honey,” my mom said. Everyone had sat down and was looking at me. “Just open those first and then we’ll get to the family stuff.”

There was no way out of this. These two packages had come right in time to embarrass me. I looked at both of them and prayed they weren’t from Kyle. Maybe Spencer’s family had seen the Christmas card my mom had sent and decided to send something small back. Maybe David had sent me a copy of ‘Angels in America’, or something. I looked at the card on the first one and saw that it only had a smiling face on it. At least I could lie and say it was from my roommate or someone nondescript.

I lifted the box and almost started bawling when I saw what was inside. The exact same suit that I had tried on at Ralph Lauren was wrapped in paper inside the box. There was a card that I knew I’d open in the privacy of my bedroom later, but the beam on my face couldn’t be explained. I wiped away a stray tear and lifted the jacket, eliciting a couple of “oo’s” from my family.

I tried not to make a big deal about it, but there was no denying that someone special had gotten me a gift for Christmas.

The second box was smaller. I lifted the card, thinking that nothing could outshine Kyle right now. I read it slowly.

“I just wanted to get you something to show you how much you mean to me. Always, Riley.”

I read it to myself. I smiled involuntarily, opened the box, and took in a deep breath. Inside was a copy of Everything in This Country Must as well as two bottles of Irish Whiskey, a bottle of Bailey’s and an engraved flask. It said ‘Cooper. Because You’re Kinda Special’ on it and I almost burst into tears again.

These two guys were completely unfair in their own special way. Kyle’s gift was spectacular, expensive and amazing. It was something I looked absolutely stunning in and would never have bought for myself; a 600 dollar suit was a big deal no matter how much money he and his family had.

And then there was this thoughtful present from Riley, who despite my best efforts, was digging a hole for himself into my heart. The cuteness of the gift wasn’t lost on me, and neither was the fact that his gift wasn’t cheap either.

I watched as my family opened up the rest of our presents. My sister got me a Northface jacket so that I’d be like all of the other preps on campus. She must have done her research. My brother loved the shirts I got him and said he might need to steal my new suit in order to wear them. If he only knew.

After a lecture from my mom about writing thank you notes to whoever had sent me those gifts, I went up to my room and dialed Kyle’s number for the second time that day.

“Hey babe,” he said. “Did you get it?”

“Kyle,” I said, softly. “I can’t keep it.”

“What do you mean you can’t keep it?” he asked. “Of course you can keep it.”

“No,” I said. “I really can’t. It’s way too much.”

“Cooper, I know it was expensive. But listen. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in the entire world. I would do anything to make you happy, so please, pretty please, just let me.”

“Kyle,” I said, realizing right then and there exactly what I had to do. “I can’t keep it because I can’t be with you anymore.”

There was a silence in my room and on the other end of the line that could have deafened an entire crowd. Hearing myself say the words was like jumping off a cliff. I was doing it to myself and yet I knew it was my only option.

“No,” Kyle said.

“Listen to me,” I interrupted. “I love you too. I really do, but this is all just too much. You doing this gift for me is just way too much and then, and then what you said the other night.” I realized that I was crying. It was the first time in my entire life that I’d ever cried over someone.

“I take it back,” he said, and I instantly knew that he was crying too. “I take it all back, I don’t care what happened, Coop. I just want to be with you.”

“I know and that’s what makes this really, really hard. I’m not ready to make the kind of commitment you’re asking me to make,” I said. I had no clue where the words were coming from, but they were spilling out of me like the tears were spilling down my face. “I just, I think that if we were having this conversation five or ten years from now it would be a completely different story, but look at us, Kyle. We’re kids and we’re crying over each other like someone has died. It’s not supposed to be this complicated. Not yet.”

And I wondered how I even knew that. Maybe it was supposed to be this complicated. Maybe when the right person came into your life, it didn’t matter where you were or what else was going on around you. Maybe that person was meant to complicate you and that’s just what you were supposed to do. Still, I couldn’t help but think that I’d jumped into this thing way too fast and I had to put the brakes on.

Kyle sniffled and I knew that he was pursing his lips into his statue face. “Well, um,” he said, sniffling again. “Keep the suit, it’s yours. And um, Merry Christmas.”

He hung up, the dial tone piercing my ear like a carving knife in a holiday ham. I’d made a huge mistake, I thought as I sat there on my bed with his gift next to me. I couldn’t help but think that I had just made a huge, huge mistake; however, something about this break up felt final. It felt real. It felt done.

I went to bed right after that and woke up with a fairly wet pillow. Not even a rare Texas snowfall lifted my less than gay spirits the next morning, but I was determined to fake it until I made it. Just because I was miserable inside didn’t mean I had to drag my entire family down with me. I played in the snow with my cousins who’d driven in early from out of town and I helped my mom set the adults table when dinner was ready in the evening.

“This came for you,” she said, handing me an envelope as we were about to pull the good China out of the cabinet. It was a ritual between my mom and me to set the table together for Christmas that had started when I could barely see over the table. I took the envelope wondering what else could have come in the mail to kill my holiday cheer.

I saw that it was from SMU and I looked up at my mom. I opened the envelope, knowing what was inside, and looked at my first college grades. I’d gotten three A’s an A minus and a B plus. A pretty kickass first term, I thought, and much better than any of my siblings had done.

“We’re very proud of you,” my mom said after I announced the grades and my well above freshman average GPA. “Your father and I, we’re really proud of you.”

“Thanks mom,” I said, laying more China out on the table.

“You have just grown into such a strong and responsible young man, and I want you to know that I love you,” she said. My mom did this kind of thing all the time. She fussed over me because I was her youngest. I gave her a hug that warmed me really deeply and told her that it was all because of her and my dad. I wanted the whole scene to end quickly and was grateful when we were done setting the table so that I could go back to pretending like everything was ok.

The following morning, my sisters woke up at the crack of dawn to go shopping. They’d invited me to come along, but I couldn’t. I knew that shopping would inadvertently remind me of Kyle and being reminded of Kyle would set me off. I wasn’t prepared to explain why I was crying in the middle of a Macy’s doorbuster sale.

I slummed around in my Peruna pajama pants all day, eating leftovers and drinking hot chocolate, not once daring to talk to anyone about my feelings. Instead, whenever anyone asked me how I was doing, I said I was fine.

But I wasn’t fine, and I was starting to get upset with myself. This was misery of my own making. I didn’t have to break up with Kyle. I could have stayed with him until I was sure. I mean, I did love him. So what was I afraid of? Being young and in love? My parents had been 19 and 20 when they got married and they’d dated all through high school. My sister was 21 when she met her now fiancé.

It wasn’t impossible to think that Kyle was who I was supposed to be with, so what was up with the self torture? Why put myself through another breakup that I couldn’t deal with just because I was scared?

Thinking that there was still time to fix this, I dialed Kyle’s number. It rang six times and then went to voicemail. I called it again. The third time I called it went straight to voicemail. He was screening me and I didn’t blame him. I was the douche that broke his heart.

In all of this, I hadn’t even thought about Riley. While I was still holding my phone, I called Riley before I forgot.

“Hey,” I said trying to sound cheerful and happy.

“What’s up?” he replied. “Did you like the gift?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I mean, I haven’t used it yet. Any of it. And I’m not sure when I’ll be able to look at that story again without dying, but I like it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Look, I know we talked about the whole not being a thing, thing, so I’m not even gonna bring it up.”

“Riley, you just brought it up.”

“You’re right,” he said. I could tell he was shifting awkwardly. “It’s just that, okay. And hear me out. Give me a shot to be your guy, okay. I make a really good guy’s guy and I know that over the phone isn’t the best way to do this, but you make me really happy, Cooper, and I could make you happy too if you gave me a shot. So go out with me. Let me be your guy.”

What was up with these boys, I thought. They’d completely lost it, caught up in the holiday spirit and now here I was having to dump another one right after Christmas.

“You think I’m crazy,” Riley said before I got the chance.

“No,” I said quickly. “Riley, come on. You don’t want to be with me, I promise you that.”

“You’re wrong,” he said.

“No, I’m right,” I said. “I appreciate the gift, and I love it by the way, but I can’t take it from you because you’re not my guy.” I felt super lame doing this over the phone, but he’d left me no choice. “You’re a great guy, but you’re not my guy. I’m really sorry.”

There was a long pause. I was determined to ride out the pause until Riley said something. Nothing that I could say could make this situation better and so I opted to remain quiet.

“You’re making a mistake, Cooper,” Riley said after what felt like years of silence.

“Maybe I am,” I replied. “I’ll talk to you later.” I had no intention of ever talking to Riley again. He wished me a happy new year and I hung up the phone.

Breaking up with Riley wasn’t as hard as breaking up with Kyle, but I still felt like a huge bag of douche water afterwards. I mean, he was a really sweet and nice guy and he deserved so much better than someone like me. He didn’t see it now, but I was fairly confident that he would at some point.

And so I fell back into my post-holiday depression. Both of the gifts glared at me in the corners of my bedroom, Kyle’s hanging in my closet and Riley’s sitting under my television. Each gift was a staunch reminder of what a terrible person I was.

“Hey, bum,” my brother said, barging into my room. “Get up, get dressed, we’re going out.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said.

“Bah humbug, you’re not going anywhere,” he said. “I know these boys of yours have you crying in the corner, but you know that I never leave baby brother in the corner, so get up. We’re hitting the town.”

“Where?” I asked.

“Don’t ask where,” he said. “Just look nice and meet me downstairs in thirty.”

I couldn’t deny that I needed a rather strong pick me up, and if Dylan wanted to be all the king’s men, I’d let him try to put me back together again. As I was about to hop into the shower, I heard my phone vibrate. It was Spencer and I answered it immediately.

“What the fuck did you do?” he asked me.

“Merry Christmas to you too,” I said, sitting back down. This was the conversation I’d been dreading for four days now and I knew that Spencer had found out that Kyle and I were done for good.

“He’s a wreck, Cooper,” he said. I knew exactly who he was talking about.

“I tried to call him,” I replied, knowing exactly how lame that sounded.

“And what exactly did you plan on saying?”

“I don’t know,” I confessed after a second.

“Not good enough,” Spencer said. “This is major.”

“People break up, Spence,” I tried to defend myself. “You think I’m making a mistake.”

“I think you’re making a huge mistake,” Spencer said. “And I think you’re too stubborn to see it. Kyle is crazy about you, Cooper, and from what it’s looking like to me, I don’t understand why.” Harsh, I thought. “I hope you’re sure about this because I’m looking at Kyle right now and I know for a fact there’s no coming back from this.”

He said it like it was final. I was pissed off again. I know that Spencer was Kyle’s good friend, but how the fuck dare he call me just to chew me out. Did Kyle not tell him that he had practically told me to break up with him if I wasn’t sure about us? Wasn’t he the one that said if it was going to end sooner or later, he’d rather have me end it sooner rather than later? I’m sure he skipped over that part when he told Spencer we were through and jumped straight to the part where I broke up with him on Christmas Eve.

I took an angry shower, one of those that leaves your skin irritated from pressing down too roughly with your washcloth. I had prepared myself to endure the wrath of Kyle, but I didn’t think that it came with a side dish of Spencer. He was supposed to be neutral.

In my frustration, I pulled open the bottle of whiskey that Riley had sent me and took a swig straight from the top. It was strong and it hit me hard. I poured a shot into a cup I was pretty sure once had ginger ale in it and then poured a few drops of water from my bathroom to dilute it just a little.

Three whiskey and waters later, Dylan announced that he was ready to go and I pulled on my jacket and followed him out. I didn’t realize how much I’d had to drink until I started walking down the stairs and almost ate it halfway down.

“Watch out, clumsy,” Dylan said. He turned around to see if I was okay. I’d caught myself on the banister and as I was pulling myself up, Dylan exclaimed, “Jesus, man. Did you swallow a distillery?”

I slurred “shut up” as I continued to the car. On the drive over, Dylan explained that his alumni association was putting on the cocktail party and that a lot of his old college friends would be there and I shouldn’t embarrass him. I was quite underjoyed to learn that I’d be mingling with a bunch of TCC graduates until my brother announced that it was an open bar.

“Try not to drink the place dry, okay?” he said as we pulled up. The event was at a hotel about half an hour north of our town, right at the seat of Tarrant County. As soon as Dylan and I had checked our coats, I went straight to the bar and ordered a long island iced tea— I figured my recent heartbreaks had given me license to get a little bit drunk.

“Starting strong,” a tall guy asked me as I was turning around and sipping the liquor out of the cocktail straw. He was about 6’3, with a nicely muscled but not overly muscular build. He had hazel eyes and dark brown hair, swept to the side. He was dressed like an assistant coach: jeans, a plain white button-front and a dark blazer.

“Well,” I said to him, in no way trying to sound cute. “I have a lot of holiday cheer to drown.”

I started to walk away from him when he said, “I hate the holidays too. Family?”

I wondered what he was talking about for a second. “No,” I replied, wondering just what I should tell him. I decided I didn’t give a fuck what he knew about me and maybe blurting it out would get him to leave me alone. “I meant that I just broke up with my boyfriend and this other guy, and they both got me these amazing presents, and I’m feeling like an asshole, but I’d rather feel like an asshole than string them along any further, you know?”

I hadn’t even realized I was rambling. The Dean Cain look-a-like took the drink the bartender had handed him and instead of running for the furthest corner like any sane person would have done, he just nodded at me.

“I can actually say that I do know,” he said. “We’ve all been there, kiddo.”

Hearing him call me kid made me realize that there must have been a pretty intense age divide there. He looked like he was in his late twenties or early thirties.

“Since you’ve been there,” I began. I knew this was going to come out rudely, but I didn’t mind. I wasn’t here to make friends. “You’ll understand why I’m really not interested in small talk, then. I have drinking to do.”

“Oh, I can understand,” he replied. “But let me tell you a really big secret.” He paused for a second and lowered his head so that it was close to mine. “See all these people? They don’t care about you breaking up with your boyfriend at Christmas. It’s a cocktail party. There will be small talk.” He stood back up straight and smiled at me. I felt extremely embarrassed for being so rude to this guy. I’d file that little exchange under whiskey-induced mistakes and move on. “So you can either endure small talk with me, a cute and charming stranger who will do his best to distract you from the heartbreak and hold your hair when you’ve had one too many drinks, or you can venture into the world of small talk. It’s up to you.”

The guy’s voice and tone were extremely polite, especially considering how I’d just reamed him a second ago. I smiled back at him and acknowledged that he was right. It didn’t hurt to walk around and flirt with him, especially since the thought of having to chit-chat with other people all night didn’t sound fun either.

He led me around the party, keeping my attention with stories about the different people dotting the hideous floors of the hotel conference room. We didn’t stay in any one spot long enough for anyone to strike up a convo with us and within a few minutes, I’d learned a lot about the guy.

“My name is Bryan,” he told me when we first started meandering. He had graduated from TCC four years ago and so there was a strong possibility he’d at least run into my brother at some point. He said he currently worked for an electrical engineering firm and was planning to go back to school to get more electrical engineering education, whatever that consisted of.

“Sounds riveting,” I said, my sourness turning into a sort of flirtation. I was still short with him, but for some reason, it came across as charming and not mean.

“It’s a lot more interesting than you’d expect,” he said, and then proceeded to go into a long soliloquy about electro-engineering. Before long, the questions turned to me.

“Well,” I said, slanting my head. I wasn’t sure if I should tell him the truth— that I was 18 and had barely started college— or if I should lie and at least pretend to sound older than I was. If my calculations were correct, he had to be about 28 years old.

“I, um, am actually here with my older brother. I’m a senior at SMU. Politics major.” I decided a slight lie wouldn’t be totally bad. This guy didn’t know me and chances were I’d never see him again.

“Nice,” he said, probably proud of himself for lightening me up. I could feel myself softening as the conversation progressed. I was glad he was a nice guy— I wouldn’t have had the patience to talk to myself if I’d met me at the bar, so I had to give him credit. “Law school after?”

“Um, yes,” I replied.

“You must be hearing back from all of those places here pretty soon,” he said. I had no clue when I should be hearing back from any places because I hadn’t actually applied anywhere.

“Yeah,” I said, stupidly. “I actually just got in early decision to SMU.” I decided the law school calendar was probably pretty similar to the undergrad calendar, so I made an educated guess.

And that’s when the lie spiraled out of control. Not only was I going to SMU law in the fall, I was also interning at Wriggs and Wriggs LLP for the summer— what could I say? I wasn’t the most creative cookie in the cookie jar. What really made me chuckle is when Bryan nodded along like what I was saying made sense and wasn’t complete and utter bullshit.

“Well, Cooper,” he said. “We need to celebrate your future. No more moping around.” He walked towards the bar and I had no idea what he had in mind.

“We’ll take two tequila shots please,” he told the bartender.

“No, no,” I said. I was pretty tipsy, but I had enough sense to know that this wasn’t a tequila shot kind of party. “Tequila and I are a recipe for disaster.”

“Elaborate, counselor,” he said handing me a small plastic shot glass with brown liquid I could smell from a mile away.

“I just make really bad decisions when I drink tequila,” I replied.

“Here’s to hoping,” he said, smiling at me. His flirtation hadn’t gone unnoticed, but this was the least subtle thing he’d said yet. “Now, because I’m tired of the cutest guy at this entire party moping around like a bitch boy, I’m going to count to three and you’re going to take this shot with me.”

“I really shouldn’t,” I started to protest. “Cutest guy?” I asked instead.

“Look around, counselor,” he said. “I didn’t come talk to you because of your glowing personality. Now, one, two…”

“I don’t have a chaser,” I interrupted. I figured one more protest would be appropriate. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to take the shot. I just knew that taking the shot would signify requiting his flirtation and I wasn’t sure I wanted to do that just yet. I felt like I had just broken up with Kyle, and this time around, it was me who had pulled the trigger. It felt disrespectful to hop into the sack with someone so soon after I’d broken up with him.

“I’ll be your chaser,” he replied, smiling at me again. He looked at me from behind those hazel eyes and gave me a smile that said ‘why the fuck not?’ The thing that struck me right then and there was that I really had no reason not to. I could live my life wondering when it would be appropriate to have sex again, or I could get over it and have sex again. Kyle and I were done— I wasn’t obligated to protect his heart. And even though I was the one who’d pulled the plug, it was his actions that had forced me to. Holding that liquid death in a shot glass, I decided that I had made my bed and right now, it had a hot older guy named Bryan lying in it.

“I’m not making out with you in a room full of people,” I said. It was my final protest and my final attempt at appearing more than easy and less than slutty.

“It’s a good thing we’re in a hotel then,” he said. He slugged back the shot and I immediately followed suit, taking in a deep breath threw my nose right after. It was a trick I’d learned from Spencer to hold down your liquor. I was supposedly 22, right? I couldn’t be caught wincing like a freshman. Right after that, Bryan sent me to get us two more cocktails and two more shots while he excused himself.

Three minutes later, he was back and I was holding another round of long islands and tequila shots.

“Follow me,” he said, leading to the front door. I gave him a quizzical look and then he flashed me a room key and a smile. Was I really about to do this? Go to a hotel suite with some sketchy guy I’d just met. This is how people end up in tubs of ice with no kidneys, I thought. I was just drunk enough and just depressed enough to think this was the perfect way to get over my holiday loss (plus, Bryan’s hands weren’t cold, so he probably hadn’t unloaded gallons of ice into a bathtub recently). So far over the break, I was down two. Why not make that down two, plus one.

I scanned the room, located Dylan and started walking towards him when I noticed that he was talking to a couple of girls. One of the girls was laughing really hard at something Dylan had just said and I knew my fortune was looking up. No way he’d be ready to leave any time soon, giving me enough time to sketch off with Bryan and return before Dylan was any-the-wiser.

“Having fun, little bro?” Dylan said, and I could tell immediately his BAC had caught up to where mine was earlier.

“A blast,” I replied. He introduced me to the two girls and I forgot their names instantly. He excused himself and pulled me aside for a second.

“So, I’m setting up some serious threesome action right now,” he whispered matter-of-factly. It was like he’d gone from drunk to sober in mere seconds and I realized it was all a part of his charm. “I’m thinking that we charge a two bedroom suite on mom and dad, tell them we got too hammered to drive home and you and I crash here tonight.”

I started to agree with him, until I remembered that my catch had already booked us a room. I could save my brother the extra cost of a suite by telling him I was about to whore it up with a guy that he may or may not have gone to school with.

“I’m actually a step ahead of you,” I said to him, opting to go with the truth. It wasn’t like he was trying to hide his pending one-night stand. I cocked my head toward the door where Bryan was standing and then turned back to look at Dylan.

“I knew you were my brother, did I ever tell you that?” he said, offering me a hand. I shook it, smiled at him and said I’d call him in the morning when I woke up. “Wait, I don’t really know what to do here. Do you need a condom? Am I allowed to ask you that? Do you have enough lube?”

“I’m good, thanks Dylan,” I said. I turned to walk away.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked me. I turned back around to face him with a blank look on my face. “Um, thank you, big brother, for dragging me out of my pathetic misery. Now go upstairs and forget about whatever boys had you crying all week and make me proud.”

As I walked towards Bryan, unable to stop myself from smiling, I heard Dylan say something to one of the girls about me being his little bro. It struck me right then that I had gotten along with Spencer so well because he was just like Dylan—carefree, charming and loyal. I hoped I hadn’t ruined that by breaking his good friend’s heart.

I manually pushed the thought of Kyle out of my mind as Bryan and I rode up the elevator to the tenth floor. It was awkward being in there with him, not sure what to say. I didn’t want to come off eager, but in the five minutes since I’d decided that I was actually doing this, I’d gotten pretty excited about it. The elevator stopped on the sixth floor to let someone in and I looked at Bryan and smiled at him. He winked at me and a second after the guy had turned around to face the front, I felt Bryan slip his hand to the front flap of my slacks.

I looked at him with a panic stricken face and he just smiled at me and raised a finger to his lips. The elevator stopped at the eighth floor and our companion got out. I started giggling immediately. I slapped Bryan’s arm, taken slightly aback by how firm it was. He was laughing too.

“I’ve never done anything like this,” he said, suddenly looking at me seriously. I wondered if he thought that I had.

“Me either,” I said. I’d had my fair share of hook-ups, but I’d never sketched off in the middle of a party with someone I didn’t know at all. I knew so little about him that I couldn’t even verify his name was actually Bryan.

“To firsts,” he said, lifting his glass towards me. I clanked it and took a big sip. I suddenly felt like I needed to be just a little bit drunker before I could do this. I was sure the mechanics would work just fine— the guy was gorgeous (another guy I assumed was out of my league added to the list)— but I wasn’t sure that I’d have the courage once I got up there. I was asking myself to completely forget about Kyle for the next twelve hours and enjoy myself in the moment with this guy. I was asking myself for a lot.

Things didn’t get any smoother when we’d found our room in the corner of the east wing of the hotel. Bryan put the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the front of the door and then closed it behind us. I looked at him and smiled as I clumsily took off my jacket and hung it on one of the hangers that was attached to the closet.

“So where do we start?” he asked, taking off his own coat. I thought about just skipping the awkward tentativeness and going for the kiss. One of us had to be the aggressor and I didn’t see why it couldn’t be me.

I leaned in and kissed him and a second later, he had his hand on the side of my face. It was a nice kiss, not too wet and not too sloppy despite how drunk both of us were. I leaned into the kiss, letting my chest hit just below his and my hand slide to the front of his pants. I felt his whole body tense, but more specifically, I felt his cock lurch to my touch.

The second I touched his Woody Woodpecker, I pulled away. Something didn’t feel right and I couldn’t place it. Bryan was really cute and his body was extremely hard. Maybe making out in a standing position wasn’t good for us; he was super tall. I smiled at him, trying to pretend like nothing was wrong. I took another sip of my drink and then walked slowly to the bed. Bryan watched the whole time as I sat down and took my shoes off. When I was done, he kicked his to the side and sat down next to me.

“So, um,” he said awkwardly. “I’m just gonna do this.” And then he reached over and put his palm against my growing bulge. He leaned in and started kissing me, pulling both of us back onto the bed so that we were lying down with our lips connected.

His hand worked my bulge for a few minutes and just as I was ready to whip it out, I suddenly felt really hot. Not the good hot that takes over you from the inside. It was the bad hot that came with sweats and shakes. I sat up.

“Something wrong?” he asked. “Was I doing something wrong?” Did he not know what he was doing? Why the fuck was he asking me that?

“No,” I said. “Everything is fine. You’re doing great. I just need to pee.” I got up and crossed over the bathroom and locked the door behind me. I sat down on the toilet and put my hands to my head. This wasn’t happening. There was a rather cute guy one wall away from me jumping at the chance to jump my bones and I was flaking. I wondered what Kyle was doing right then and then got really angry with myself.

“You don’t owe Kyle anything,” I almost said out loud. I took in a deep breath, told myself to relax and then stood up. I could do this. I was a big boy; a big single boy who wasn’t ready to make a commitment to anyone. Big single boys have sex with whomever they please, and right then, whom I pleased was in the next room. I decided to commit and go for it and show both Bryan and myself a really good time.

I decided that once things really got going, I wouldn’t want to back out, so I took my shirt off, undid the hook on my pants and lowered my zipper. I sauntered out of the room, trying my hardest to be sexy and then flashed Bryan a big smile as soon as he saw me.

“Wow,” he said. “You um... You’re really, really… wow.”

“Well, thank you,” I said back in the sexiest voice I could muster. I felt like I was filming a porno, but I had to do whatever it took to get me in the proper mood. “Now let’s do this, shall we?”

I flicked the light off, leaving only a dim glow from the moon outside, and I slid over to where Bryan was still sitting on the bed. I dropped to my knees between his legs, bringing us to eye level. This time, I used my hands to pull him into my face and I sucked his tongue into my mouth deeply.

He let out a moan I could tell he was surprised by the aggressive move. I continued sucking at his tongue as I worked the zipper of his khakis. I could tell that this guy was extremely hard from the feeling of his pecker on the back of my hand and I envied him. I was still sporting a semi even though I was getting more turned on by the second.

Thinking I needed to ramp up my attraction to Bryan, I decided to undress him while we made out. I undid his pants, and then started to unbutton his shirt. I immediately felt that he was ripped underneath his clothes and I began to move with more urgency. My cock twitched as I rubbed a hand over his rock solid abs. A good sign, I thought.

When I reached his nipples, he let out another crazy moan. This time, he let go of my mouth and threw his head back. I took this as my chance. I slid my hands back down to his crotch and squeezed his boxer-clad dick. He moaned again and leaned back onto his hands.

“Oh fuck yeah,” he said when I pulled his dick out of his underwear and felt it in my hands. The first thing I noticed was that it was long. It was really long, almost 8 or 9 inches long, I estimated. My whiskey vision might have been exaggerating, but it definitely felt long in my hands. The second thing I noticed was that it was skinny. There was no girth to it whatsoever. Still, this was the deck I was dealt, and I was about to play my hand.

I gave him a couple of good squeezes.

“Oh fuck,” he said, leaning back all the way. He lifted his hips up for me to pull his pants all the way down around his ankles. That’s when I dove in. I took as much of his dick into my mouth as I could, tasting a fairly sweet precum and used my tongue to lick the head.

“Oh fuck yeah,” he repeated as I bobbed up and down on him. “That feels fucking great, oh fuck yeah.”

The guy was definitely digging what I was giving and it made me a feel proud that I had that effect on him. Usually, when I’m blowing a guy, I like for him to be vocal, but not too vocal. I like for him to put his hands on me to show me that he’s enjoying my method.

This guy was definitely towing the vocal v. too vocal line and his hands were planted firmly at his side. You don’t always get winners, I thought. My moment of hesitation was cured as soon as I ran my hands up his washboard one more time and felt just how hard his body was. He could have laid there chanting for all I cared; hard abs trump annoying sexual tendencies.

I let my hands wander all over his midsection as I bobbed up and down on his dick. The moans, groans, and phrases continued and I knew I was doing an above average job. I felt him start to tense up and sucked in his dick even harder.

“Shit, man,” he shouted. He pushed me off his crotch, but he was a split second too late. The second my lips were off his dick, I got splashed in the face by a spurt of warm cum. The second spurt hit me on the forehead and then on the neck after that.

Bryan lifted his head up and smiled at me. “That was phenomenal,” he said.

“I aim to please,” I said standing up and joining him on the bed. He stood up and walked to the bathroom. I followed his body around the corner with my eyes and then noticed something weird. There was a suitcase in the closet just around the corner. I looked over and noticed that there was a jacket that Bryan hadn’t been wearing draped across the chair next to the TV. He hadn’t just bought the room, I thought. He was staying here.

He came back and tossed me a towel for my face. I wiped it off and asked, “Are you staying in this room?”

“Yeah,” he replied nonchalant.

“Quite a commitment for a TCC reunion,” I said, thinking out loud.

“Let’s not worry about it,” he said, putting his hand on my cock as I finished wiping myself off. “Let’s get you taken care of.”

A minute later, he had my pants down and was slipping his tongue all over my dick. It certainly wasn’t the best blow job I’d ever gotten, but it wasn’t one I would have sent back to the chef. And it was enough to make me forget that something felt creepy about this guy having a weekend’s worth of luggage here for a one night reunion that wasn’t even that big of a deal. I just laid back, cleared my mind, and enjoyed it, jacking myself off a little to speed things up.

After I came on my torso and wiped it up, I felt extremely tired. I realized it was one a.m. and that we’d been partying since almost nine. I followed Bryan under the covers and laid on my back as I waited to fall asleep, trying my hardest not to think about how much I wanted my fingers to be intertwined with someone else’s right then.

“You’re not really a TCC grad,” I said softly, looking up at the ceiling.

“You’re not an SMU senior,” he replied, flatly. I guess he had me there. We’d both lied to get laid. “Tell me something,” he continued. “Are you at least 18?”

I thought about getting up right then and walking right out. I felt dirty and sort of cheap sleeping next to this creeper, and I would have left, but I had nowhere to go.

“Yeah,” I replied, rolling over away from him. “I am exactly 18.”

“Good,” he said, rolling over in the opposite direction. “Goodnight.”