It's been a year since Clay, otherwise known as Porkchop, planned the graduation event in Newport Beach. The event where a handsome Tyler Hamilton caught Clay off guard by kissing him. Clay, up until that day, had never kissed a boy before.
At 24 ye...
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I was so lame.
Really. I was so fucking lame.
My hand was halfway in a bag of Chester's hot fries, I was rewatching The Vampire Diaries for the third time, and it was then that I realized just how lame I was. On the lameness scale, I was at least a 7. But really, I was probably a 10. Because my fingers were covered in hot cheesy dust, and I was only paying attention to scenes with Damon Salvatore, which meant that holy shit, I needed to get a fucking grip.
The fight with Cayden had taken a pretty distinct toll on me. I'd sprinted all the way back to my apartment, thankfully, sprinting was kind of something I often did anyway. Still, it was like, a couple of miles to my apartment from the coffee shop, and I hadn't exactly been prepared to just rush out of there like that. And when I'd gotten back to the apartment, I'd gone straight to the punching bag.
Alex called me once in between punching bag moments and lying on the floor trying to catch my breath moments. I didn't answer. Couldn't. She texted me something about her upcoming art show, and I felt like a douche for ignoring her. Then, Jesse called me. Didn't answer. He texted and asked if everything was okay. That was when I slid my phone across the floor from one side of the apartment to the next.
I fell asleep on the floor, and woke up at 5 in the goddamn morning. Unfortunately, my tired ass couldn't get back to sleep, so I ended up turning on The Vampire Diaries and ordering food. Hence, the hot fries.
And that's how I ended up realizing my lameness, getting up from the sofa at now 8 in the morning, and grabbing my phone from off the floor.
8 texts from Alex, 5 from Jesse, 3 from Clay, and 1 from Alexander.
I responded to Alex and Jesse's texts first, telling them that yes, I was okay, and also applauding Alex for the piece of art she sent me a picture of. It was fucking dope. She was so talented. She'd painted this abstract portrait of Idris Elba for her showing the next week, and it was seriously one of the coolest things ever. Almost as cool as the portrait she'd done of me years ago, except that one was definitely cooler because, well, it was me.
And then I checked Clay's texts. I ignored Alexander's for the moment, thinking I'd check it after I saw what Clay had to say.
CLAY: Tyler! If you're not busy today, I have these tickets to a SURPRISE CONCERT!
CLAY: And if you ARE busy, that's totally fine, too, and if you don't like concerts or don't want to come with me, then that's also okay but it sounds pretty fun. I don't know, I'm rambling.
CLAY: It's a bunch of artists, and I'm supposed to keep the thing a surprise, but I just wanted to tell you! Because woo concerts!
My lips curved up into a smile. He was even bubbly over text.
