unsettled
Thanksgiving this year was horrible.
I sat across the table from my parents. I was ecstatic to see my dad, like usual, but that happiness was clouded by the threat of my mom's breast cancer.
There wasn't a minute that went by since I'd come home that I stopped thinking about it. It was a special kind of torture that I wished I'd never come to know.
Somehow, even though it was all over my thoughts, we hadn't talked about it as a family yet and that made me feel more uncomfortable. I didn't expect my mom to mention it much because she was like that--private in almost every facet. Which is something my dad respected about her, so my guess was that was why he didn't try to start a conference meeting with us over it in the living room.
Then there was me, who was jointly longing to know more yet terrified of the reality. So I did what I normally did with my family and I didn't ask about anything and we all pretended everything was normal. It was something I was far too accustomed to, but I was too much of a chicken to call my parents out.
"How's school, kiddo?" my dad asked during Thanksgiving dinner.
It was just the three of us for the holiday, which was already better than what most of my life was—only my mom and me.
My dad looked older than the last time I'd seen him at my graduation, which wasn't even that long ago. I held back a frown as I wondered, Did the pressure of my mom being sick change him that much?
I swallowed my bite of turkey. Christmas music played quietly in the background as we ate. It was my mom's favorite tradition--even though we weren't Christians and didn't celebrate their holiday--and this year I was trying so hard not to let it annoy me the way it usually did.
This year I just wanted her to be happy. She'd dealt with me making our holidays frustrating for too many years as I bitterly mentioned how we could have been with dad overseas somewhere if it wasn't for her decisions.
Knowing better now, and wanting to make up for those rough years when I was in middle school and a total brat, I was determined not to snap about anything this year.
Even if Jingle Bells drove me nuts.
"It's good," I said, clearing my throat. "I don't mind my classes too much."
"Are you studying a lot?" my mom asked.
She gave me a guarded smile. I felt guilty knowing it was only there because of me and my selfish behavior. I smiled back sheepishly, feeling awkward. "Yeah, I suppose. All the library attendants know me by name now, so..."
My parents laughed and I felt my spirits lift just a little. My dad pointed a finger at me. "Don't study too hard, bud. I know how you are."
I shrugged and took another bite of my potatoes. Around the food I said, "I like studying. It keeps me occupied."
There was silence for a moment and I realized what sort of thought I probably left in their heads. Did they think I was talking about being worried about mom? Or maybe they were thinking of how much I'd been alone and angry as a teenager, spending hours locked in my room doing homework when I wasn't out with my friends.
In any case, seeing the thin veil of guilt on their faces made me feel horrible.
To pick things back up, I quickly said, "The campus library is really nice, so it's easy for me to just spend hours there. But besides studying, Harley and I go for a run almost every day before lunch. Since it's getting so cold out now and the weather's just getting shittier, we use the athletics track."
"It's nice you boys are still staying in shape. Are you going to join any sports up there?" my dad asked. "I know they've got a good lacrosse club."
I shrugged, looking back down at my plate. "I don't know. I loved lacrosse in high school but I don't think I wanna play on a team again. Harley and I just mess around practicing for fun sometimes, though, to keep it fresh. His roommate is on the team this year and he said he's been thinking about maybe joining next season."
My mom smiled over at me again. It reached her eyes and I felt my chest swell. But then as I looked back at her, I noticed that the wig on her head wasn't the same shade of brown as her real hair and I felt my stomach plummet.
"You should think about joining too, sweetheart," she said. She hadn't called me that in so long. "You were always so good at lacrosse. I think you should keep up with it if you have the time to."
Her praise made a fresh wave of guilt rush over me. I stood up quickly without thinking and my parents blinked at me in surprise. "Uhm, sorry, I've gotta use the bathroom. Be right back."
Before they could say anything, I was hurrying away. When I got into my room, I shut the door behind me. I sat down on my old bed, squeezed my eyes shut, and just focused on breathing in deeply.
You can't cry, I scolded myself. You cannot fucking cry, Nathan.
Groaning, I rubbed my face with closed fists and opened my eyes. Then I went to the bathroom and as I washed my hands I reluctantly looked in the mirror.
The person I saw in the reflection didn't even feel like me anymore. I looked the same, yes--dark hair and brown eyes. But beyond the surface, my eyes looked so fucking sad. I'd thought I had that under control by now with years of practice, but I guessed it was only natural to slip after a while.
I knew I was an idiot in high school. I had one night stands left and right. I got obnoxiously drunk with my friends every chance I could get, and told stupid jokes because always wanting to be the life of the room. I used to fuck around, goofing off and laughing all the time with my friends even when I hurt on the inside. Because if there was one thing I learned early on after my dad moved away, it was that at least no one asked you the questions you feared the most when they thought your life was perfect.
That was all before I got into a real relationship, though. And once I was in it, I toned the facade and the craziness down. Being in love made me feel like I didn't need to compensate for the silence in my home life with the noise outside of it as much anymore.
Because I had Jason who made me feel better. Who either punched me on the arm to tell me I was overreacting, or hugged me tightly when he knew I really needed the affection.
Jason, who was my biggest weakness and only a five minute drive away right now.
"Jesus fuck," I hissed under my breath.
I splashed cold water on my face and looked into the mirror again with a scowl.
Nowadays, I was once more finding it harder to pretend that my life was perfect. I'd fallen in love, I'd gotten my heart broken, and I'd grown up just a little bit to know that who I pretended to be in high school wasn't the best person I could be.
I was trying to change that, to figure out more of who I really was, but it was a difficult task to tackle given the situation.
College was proving to be harder for me than I'd thought. But it wasn't because of the coursework--I thrived on that shit. What made my life difficult was trying so hard to not make stupid, irrational decisions, and failing. It was hard to stay on track when it was just so much easier to give into temptations.
It was highly unfortunate that the number one temptation I had at the moment happened to be my roommate.
I knew I never should have started having threesomes with Noel, but that day when he first asked me, I'd wanted to do it so badly.
God, I thought. I truly am the world's biggest, saddest idiot.
I breathed in deeply and frustratedly forced the air out in a huff. I shut the tap off and dried my face and hands, leaving my bathroom.
I let my thoughts drift away from Noel and as I looked around my bedroom, a dozen memories of past holidays spent arguing with my mom, tense silences, and nights ending in slammed doors flooded into my head.
All I could think now was that I never should have been so selfish when I was younger. I shouldn't have blamed my mom for all my sadness and loneliness. I should have opened my eyes, grown up, listened to what she was telling me.
Because now she could be dying.
And all those years were a waste.
Fuck. I was a goddamn mess.
I shook my head and forced myself to go back out into the hallway. If I stayed in my room any longer, I'd just end up crying and ruining yet another Thanksgiving.
After a few moments of calming myself down, I went back out to the dining room and sat down with my parents again. They were laughing and holding hands on the tabletop and the sight drew a smile to my lips as I watched them. My mom never stopped loving my dad, and he'd never stopped loving her.
His work took him away, but he always came back. It hurt growing up, spending years thinking my family was falling apart, but now I could see that all that time and space between them hadn't changed a thing when it came to my parents' love for each other.
In fact, seeing them together now made me think that it was stronger than ever before.
It broke my heart to think that if my mom's treatment didn't work...then maybe this time it would be my mom who left. And she wouldn't be able to come back.
During dessert, my mom looked over at me.
I raised a brow in question as I took a bite of apple pie.
"How is your roommate, Nate?"
"Yes," my dad exclaimed, setting his eyes on me. His interest made me feel warm. "Are you used to sharing everything yet?"
He was teasing and I knew it was valid, considering I was an only child who always had everything to himself. But his question only made me remember how much I truly was sharing with my roommate. And no, I wasn't used to it yet. I didn't think I ever would be.
I cleared my throat and made a joke. "I never was good at doing that whole sharing thing."
My dad chuckled as he sipped on his wine. My mom grinned at me. "What's his name?"
"Uh, Noel."
"Do you like him?"
I looked at her sharply, missing the bite of pie I was about to take and it fell back on my plate with a splat. "What?"
My mom looked confused. I caught my dad's look of amusement out of the corner of my eye, but I ignored it.
He'd known much more about my last relationship than my mom ever did. I thought it was ironic seeing as I saw him only two or three times a year.
"Is he a nice boy?" my mom asked, taking a different approach to her question.
Having conversations like this was new to us but I was happy she was trying with me again. This time I was ready to open up even if there were things I knew I couldn't comfortably say out loud yet.
I nodded slowly. "Yeah, he's really nice. He was quiet at first, but he's not shy. He's just..." I pursed my lips, pulling them in between my teeth as I searched for the right words. "Uhm, he's different."
"How so?" my dad asked.
I shrugged, chewing on my pie and swallowing before answering. "He's just really cool and he sort of lives in his own, chaotic world. He never seems to worry about anything and he's always in a good mood. I don't know if he even thinks half the time before he does shit; it's like he just dives in head first without the threat of consequences." I waved my hand, then let it land on the table with a thud. "But consequences never seem to touch him anyway. I don't know, it's weird."
When I finished I shook my head. My dad was smiling slyly behind his glass of wine but didn't say anything. Which I was glad for.
My mom—thank God for her obliviousness—just looked curiously at me. "He sounds interesting. Does he like boys too?"
When there's a woman between them, I thought.
I rolled my eyes but smiled. My mom's eyes were innocent despite the question. "Not everyone I know likes guys. But no, not really."
My mom hummed and grabbed a forkful of her pie. "That's a shame."
As my lips held onto the smile, my mind frowned.
Wasn't it a shame?
**************
"How'd it go?" Noel asked me.
I'd been back from my trip home for only ten or so minutes when he came into our room. He nodded his head at me as he closed the door and strolled past.
I looked up from my suitcase I was in the process of emptying into my hamper. "How did what go?"
Noel sat on his bed and watched me. I noticed that he tended to have a watchful eye on people when he spoke--he was a very attentive conversationalist. Unless he was high, because then his attention was a little harder to pin down.
Sometimes I preferred it when he was a bit more spacey, though, because having him stare so intently made my skin crawl. Thankfully it was never in a bad way, but knowing I liked it even a little was enough to remind me that I was getting too invested in nothing.
Noel leaned back with his hands pressed to his mattress, allowing them to support his weight. He tilted his head slightly. "Did you go with your mom?"
I bit my lip. I really didn't want to have this conversation. It had already been a long enough day of traveling.
I finished putting my things away and sighed. I turned to Noel who was still watching, his eyes clear and expectant. For a moment I wished he was high. Then maybe he wouldn't care about this so much.
"Uh, no," I said tersely. "I couldn't."
"It's okay."
For some reason, his gentle reassurance had the opposite effect on me as it should have.
"Is it, though? Because I should have been there," I mumbled, feeling dour.
I'd wanted to go with her to her treatment just as much as I was frightened to. We still hadn't talked about what was going on besides the offhanded way my dad asked if I wanted to go with them to chemo. It was all just too much for me in the moment, and in the end I'd had to bear the weight of my dad's disappointing gaze when I'd told him I was going to see Anthony instead.
I cringed at the thought. Bitterly, I muttered, "A good son would have."
Noel scoffed and sat up, leaning forward so his elbows were on his knees. "Fuck being a good son. You're the best."
I wrinkled my face up half in each confusion and amusement. I stretched my arms over my head--my body was sore from spending so long in ubers, the airport, and two planes--and let them drop back to my sides with a smack.
"What do you know?" I teased.
"That I'm sure you did your fucking best like a goddamn trooper. Actually more like a battle droid. They always lost, but they definitely tried their best first," Noel said jokingly. He succeeded in making me laugh lightly--mostly because I had no idea what he was going on about--up until he said, "Maybe next time it'll be easier. Winter break is only two weeks away."
My laughter fizzled out and I shrugged, rubbing at my tired eyes. I really didn't feel like thinking about it anymore. "I guess. Listen, Noel, I don't really wanna talk about it. If you don't mind."
"Okay, fair. Do you wanna go out?"
His question caught me off guard--like a lot of the things he did. The time on Noel's alarm clock said it was almost 10 p.m. I chuckled, crossing my arms loosely. "And do what?"
Noel shrugged. I supposed he did seem a little restless to do something. "Anything. We could just go for a drive. Or we could go bowling again. I had fun last time."
It sounded alluring, but I knew that I was far too exhausted to do any of that. I'd had a three hour layover and I couldn't sleep at all thanks to screaming kids running around the nearby terminals the whole time. When they eventually boarded my flight I knew I was officially out of luck.
"Some other time," I said, meaning it. "I'm tired."
Noel stood up and looked at me, not saying anything until his eyes grew brighter with a thought. "I've got an idea...Lord of the Rings. Right here, we don't even have to go anywhere. I've got 'em all."
I smiled. His excitement gave me a boost of energy. "Okay. I'm in."
"I knew you would be."
I glared at him for a second, earning a wink in return as his fingers fed through his hair. How was he so good at being flawless?
"Which one?" Noel asked, going over to his wardrobe. He pulled out a box and began rifling through it. "We could watch them all in order--not all tonight, obviously--or just whatever one is your favorite. You can pick."
He had his back to me as he knelt, pulling out random cases. I found it cute that he liked these movies so much that he had the physical copies. It seemed like nobody had physical copies of anything anymore. Somehow it was so Noel.
He looked at me over his shoulder and his eyes were wrinkled at the corners. "Hey, Earth to Nat."
I grinned feeling sleepier again already. I knew I'd try and stay awake to spend time with Noel, though. "How about The Return of the King?"
"Solid choice. You got it."
He set the movie up and I made a bag of popcorn. I had been leaning on the top of the microwave, resting my forehead on my arms as I waited for the three and a half minutes to pass. I swore I was just resting my eyes...but I still jolted awake when the timer went off.
I grabbed the bag out, being careful not to burn my fingers, and when I turned around I was momentarily stunned by what I saw.
Not only was Noel in the midst of pulling his shirt off over his head, but at his feet in the middle of the room was a pile of blankets and pillows for us to lounge on while we watched the movie. It looked so...oddly intimate.
I tried incredibly hard not to let my face flush. But just to be safe, I slapped the light in the room off, making it dark save for the menu screen flashing on the television. Noel had moved that too so it was perfectly situated a handful of feet in front of the blanket area he'd created.
Noel tossed his shirt over onto his bed and then sat down. I pulled the corners of the bag in my hands so it would open, and the steam that flew up at my face smelled strongly of butter and salt.
I settled down next to Noel and he reached forward to grab the controller. When he came back I tried to ignore the blatantly obvious fact that Noel was fucking shirtless and he was sitting much closer to me than he needed to.
I shifted slightly to the side.
Why does he have to be shirtless all the time?
Why does he have to be so incredible?
How does he never seem to worry about anything he does?
I shook my head at myself and unintentionally caught Noel's attention as he hit play.
"What?" he asked. He was smiling again due to the fact that he was practically always in such a good mood. I found it baffling. How the hell did he manage that as well?
I shook my head again in response and stuffed buttery popcorn in my mouth.
Noel chuckled and leaned back against the wall. His shoulder touched mine, but he didn't seem to care. Not that I really expected him to, but my arm felt like it was overheating from the minimal contact.
Neither of us moved except to grab popcorn out of the bag resting between our thighs. I couldn't focus on the movie--only Noel and how tired I was. It didn't even take an hour before I was falling asleep and when I woke up again, Noel was still sitting next me just not as close as before.
I was laying down on my side with my head on my pillow. There was a blanket pulled over me, too, but I wasn't sure if I'd done that in my sleep or if Noel had done it for me.
The television was off and he'd turned his lamp on. He was sitting in just his boxers and as I blinked tiredly, I saw he was reading his book that I was supposed to be reading.
Without moving at all, I let my eyes close heavily and drifted off again in record timing, absorbed in the knowledge that for some reason Noel decided to stay right there next to me even though I was asleep.