I poured him a glass of water and grabbed him a couple of ibuprofen, finding him climbing into his bed, shirtless, with a thump.
I smiled as I approached his bed, handing him the pills and water, and he smiled back gratefully before knocking them back. He set the glass on his nightstand as I fussed with his covers.
“Maybe I was wrong.”
“About what?” I asked absently as I pulled his blanket up over him.
“About you being able to live without me.”
“Oh?”
He met my eyes, saying gently, “Maybe it’s me who can’t live without you.”
I turned out his light so he couldn’t see my face — I wasn’t sure what expression I wore. And all I could do was laugh and say playfully, and maybe a little patronizingly, “Goodnight, Tyler.”
He sighed in the darkness and answered, “Night, Cam.”
And I made my way to my room, slipping into bed as I wondered how life could be so cruel.
INFALLIBLE
Cam
THE STEADY HUM OF THE crowd filtered into the kitchen from the TV as I pulled the fundido out of the oven. The cheese and tomatoes bubbled around chorizo, and I swear to God, I actually salivated when the smell of the dip hit my nose.
“Incoming,” I said as I made my way into the living room, setting the small cast iron skillet on the trivet next to the chips and salsa we’d been nibbling on.
Tyler didn’t take his eyes off the TV, just muttered, “No. What the hell are you doing? Throw it! Throw it!”
The quarterback was sacked.
He rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in the air. “This,” he gestured to the screen, “is why A&M won’t make the playoffs this year. Their passing game just isn’t strong enough to compete.”
I snorted and sat down next to him, leaning in to dip a chip in the cheesy mess. “Getting sacked by Purdue tells me they’ve got bigger issues, like lack of a decent offensive line. He didn’t have a receiver to throw it to.” I took a bite and moaned.
Tyler huffed and changed the channel to put on a different game. “I don’t think I can watch any more of this. It hurts too bad.” He landed on the Tennessee-Georgia game and tossed the remote on the table, leaning forward to dig into the dip beside me. He moaned when he took a bite too. The sound gave me a deep feeling of satisfaction.
“You ready for next weekend?” I asked. “I’m kinda sad you’re going to have to witness the Huskers getting shucked by the Hawkeyes.”
He snickered. “Not a chance, Cam. You guys are gonna get ruined. There’s not a single defensive lineman for the Hawkeyes who can stop Darryl. He’s too fast.”
“No one’s infallible.”
“True, but Darryl’s the closest thing I’ve seen in a long time.” He tossed another chip in his mouth. “What’s cooking in there?” He nodded toward the kitchen.
“White chili for Mrs. Frank.”
“And us?” he asked hopefully.
I smiled. “And us.”
“I thought old people weren’t supposed to eat spicy stuff.”
“Not Mrs. Frank. I swear she makes the spiciest Bloody Marys I’ve ever tasted.”
He chuckled. “You going up there later?”
“Yeah, after the game. What are you doing tonight?” I stuffed a dip-slathered chip in my mouth.
“I’m going out with Adrienne,” he answered, something undecipherable in his voice.
Thankfully, I had a full mouth to keep me from giving myself away. You’re glad. It’s good. Best thing ever. They’re perfect together. Stop being weird, Cameron. I swallowed and took a long sip of my beer. “Good,” I said, sounding completely normal. “Where are you going?”
“Frenchie’s — it’s a French-American hipster bistro, or something. That’s what Adrienne said, at least. She asked me out.”
A laugh shot out of me. “I love that. She’s got some pretty serious lady-balls.”
He smiled. “I’m glad you like her. I don’t know when I became so dependent on your approval, but it really makes me feel better knowing you set it up.”
It was like last night hadn’t even happened. I wondered if I’d imagined the whole thing, him nearly kissing me, saying things I didn’t know how to take. He just sat there next to me, eyes on the screen, sipping his beer like everything was fine.
All I could do was pretend everything was just fine. So I swallowed hard and did just that.
“Well, I’m happy to set you up. After you brought home that Julia chick, I had to stop letting you make your own decisions on the matter. She was a mess.”
“She wasn’t that bad.”
My face was flat. “She laughed like a horse, and she called a soccer goal a touchdown.”
He laughed. “She could have been taught the proper terms.”
“Yeah, but you would have had to live with that laugh. And by proxy, I would have had to live with that laugh.”
He sat back on the couch smirking, and I tried not to pay attention to how his Huskers shirt stretched across his broad chest. “Oh, come on, Cam. You have to admit that your standards are high.”
“Well, someone has to keep them high. Otherwise you’d be dragging home girls who are all wrong for you.”
Tyler’s brow rose. “And what’s ‘all wrong’ for me?”
“Well,” I said, taking a sip of my beer to buy me a second, “if I didn’t monitor you, you’d be bringing home who knows what. Nerds. Short girls. Girls who aren’t into the things you’re into.”