One

Cade

"C adence, please stop looking so sad. Your busted-up face and pout are making me… you're bumming me out. Stop it!"

"Baby, fuck off."

"I can't!" he whines, walking into my room and sitting crosslegged on Liam's bed—or what was Liam's bed.

It's not his bed anymore. He's just gone. Left because I fucked up and kissed him like an idiot, and now he hates me. Probably.

God, that was stupid. I'm kind of glad his boyfriend punched me. I deserve the busted face. So, so stupid.

"I can't leave you alone when you're being so pathetic."

I glare.

"Do you want to go to the movies with me?"

I roll my eyes, huffing a laugh. "Baby, it's not your job to make me less…" I don't finish. I'm not even sure how to finish. Less sad? Embarrassed? Fucking stupid?

"But… they're doing a special showing of The Outsiders."

"Oh, okay." I force a smile––my instincts trying to keep me from doing it even though my lip is fully healed now––as I sit up and toss my legs over the edge of my bed. "You want to go watch one of your shitty old movies and have no friends lame enough to go with you."

"Please?" He gives me his best version of puppy dog eyes. "It's not even a musical."

I'll never tell him that I actually enjoyed Little Shop of Horrors, and The Outsiders doesn't sound so bad right now. I happen to like that movie anyway. So, as long as it's not an attempt to cheer me up… "Yeah, okay."

"That's why you're my favorite roommate." He beams.

"Oh, does Liam leaving mean I've been promoted?"

"Your face looks a lot better," he says, a clear deflection, but whatever.

"Gee, thanks."

It still looks a little fucked, but yeah, it is getting better. The bruises under my eyes are fading, now an ugly greenish-yellow instead of dark purple. It's been a week since the incident , so there's pretty much no swelling, but it's not attractive. The stitch on the inside of my lip is gone, dissolved already, and it doesn't hurt to talk anymore.

It really was a case of it-looks-worse-than-it-is, but still. People stare at me, and it's humiliating. Even with most people not knowing why I got my face pummeled.

"Have you… talked to Liam's boyfriend at all?"

I shake my head. "I've barely even talked to Liam."

"That's… he's kind of dumb. Literally everyone––except him and Logan––knew you had a… thing for him."

I tilt my head back, looking away from him because I just don't know what to say to that.

"But you didn't deserve a broken nose. Sebastian hasn't even apologized?"

"No. I––" I cringe. "I don't need an apology. I deserved it." Really, it feels like I need to apologize. Again. Why the fuck did I do that?

"Yeah, but he shouldn't have hit you."

"I kissed his boyfriend." My stomach flips, but I barrel through the immediate misery those words trigger. "Tell me you wouldn't try to fuck someone up if you caught them all over your boyfriend."

"My fists aren't really made for conflict, y'know?"

I appreciate him not echoing any mentions of the kiss. I keep waiting for other people to bring it up, but it's like we're all just avoiding the specifics. Or they are. Sometimes, it feels like I just can't help but bring it up.

I feel guilty. And it doesn't feel like anything was actually resolved, so the feeling just won't go away. I know why I did it. Years of pent-up what-ifs ran through my head all at once, and I just… kissed him.

I know that to everyone else, it seems like something I did out of the blue, but it's been on my mind for years. Liam. My best friend. Something I always deemed off-limits until suddenly I saw a maybe. He likes guys now, and I just had to try. And he was pushing me away. It was hard to talk to him because he was hiding, dealing with his seemingly new sexuality, and neither of us knew how to navigate around that.

It felt like I was losing him. So, I had to try.

My timing was a little off, and I embarrassed the fuck out of myself, but at least I know. At least I'm not left hoping for something that's clearly never going to happen anymore.

But I might be losing him anyway.

God. I really wish I was still lying down.

"They're dainty." Baby holds his hands out like he's modeling jewelry. Maybe his hands aren't built for bashing faces in, but I can't imagine him––or anyone––just being okay with the situation I put Liam's bulky boyfriend in.

"You wouldn't try to bite them?"

"No, I told you. That's my love language." He gives me a toothy grin, flashing his weapon of choice at me as he pushes his hair off his forehead.

"Well, shit. You must really love me," I say, thinking of all the many, many times he's bitten me. Sure as fuck doesn't feel like love when he does it, though.

He rolls his blue eyes at me, choosing not to confirm or deny it. "Come on," he slaps the bare mattress before getting up. "Let's go watch Matt Dillon in his prime up on the big screen."

"You should drive my car."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I don't want to drive," I tell him, finally getting out of bed. "But I also don't want to sit in your tiny ass Fiat."

He scoffs. "Rude. I don't want you in the pimp mobile anyway." He snags the keys I hold out for him, and all I have to do is shove my feet in a pair of sneakers so we can leave.

∞∞∞

"H ey, Mom."

"Hey, sweetie. Real quick, I wanted to talk about Christmas."

"Okay." I smile, knowing she's going to lay it on heavy, beg me to come stay for the break. I told her I wanted to skip on Thanksgiving and stay here because it was only a four-day weekend anyway, but she and Anton drove down here the day after. To make up for it. But when she asks if I want to spend Christmas with her, I can't even imagine not saying yes.

"Okay. Okay, great," she chimes and I can hear the smile in her voice through the phone. I swear I can hear it grow as she goes on and on about plans. She wants to go on a small vacation, but at the moment, I don't really care. I just let her talk, barely giving any input until she changes the topic altogether. "How're you doing?"

I pause, trying to decide how much I should tell her. "Not that great."

My mom and I are close, but not the kind of close that requires us to talk every single day. She has her own life, and I have mine. So, I definitely have some shit to clue her in on.

She's known that I'm bi almost as long as I've known—cried with me when I begged her to keep my secret and tried to convince me that it wasn't a big deal. But she knew about my pathetic crush on Liam way before I did. She knew my reasons for keeping quiet. It's not… I haven't always wanted him like that. He used to just be someone I thought of as a brother, so for me to just one day decide I wanted more…

It had royally fucked with my head. Honestly, he's kind of clueless. I'd agonize over how obvious I was being at times but he never once seemed aware. How he didn't know is beyond me.

But my mom knew, so telling her all the sordid deets isn't a hardship right now. It might even feel kind of nice to get it off my chest—cathartic, in a way.

"I'm so sorry, Cade." She means it. I can hear it in her mom-voice and can't help but let it comfort me.

"It's okay. Really." I sigh, mostly believing it. I'm in this weird in-between where I feel relieved but also antsy. There's just too much up in the air. He's my best friend, and I hardly see him. Talk to him.

"It will be." She says it with so much sincerity that it's hard not to believe her. Then she starts talking about moving on and finding someone else, a nice guy or gal, and I roll my eyes more than once throughout the whole thing. But it makes me feel better just to listen to her and know that she's listening to me too.

I do not tell her that Sebastian––the big, sexy, tatted motherfucker who has pretty much stolen my best friend––punched me in the face for kissing Liam. Like most sons, I've learned what sorts of things I need to keep from my mom. Saves us both a lot of unnecessary stress.

"He moved out?" This seems more surprising to her than the fact that Liam, the guy she's known as straight for almost fifteen years, is actually into dudes. "How long has he been dating this boy?"

Mothers, I roll my eyes––again. "It doesn't really matter," I tell her––because we're talking about me here, Mom . "He's gone, and now I either have to pay more in rent or find a roommate." And neither option has me all that pumped to be alive right now.

Liam tried to discreetly set it up with Baby to where he would still pay a share, but that's stupid. I don't want that.

She gasps, the sound dramatic enough that it makes me jump a little.

"What?"

"I have the best idea. It's perfect!" She starts babbling, her voice getting quieter as she starts talking to who I assume is my stepdad, Anton. Getting all giddy and shit about something I'm not clued in on just yet.

"Mom," I try to cut through her excitement. "Mom!"

"Oh, sorry. I was just telling Anton that––well, I have a roommate for you!"

"Wait, what?"

"Okay, so promise to hear me out first."

"Mother." What the hell?

"Nicolas needs––"

"No." I don't need to hear her out. The answer is no. I'd way rather pay more money and have to work more or even just go find some stranger to share a room with than let Nic move in. He'd be here . In my room. Not even ten feet away. "Mom, no," I say again, just so there's no confusion.

"Cade, don't be like that. He needs a place to stay. He wants to go back to school, and I don't see why––"

"Mom! He hates my guts." I'm not exactly his biggest fan, either. He doesn't just hate me . He cannot stand my mom, and I find it hard to tolerate someone who so blatantly disrespects the woman who single-handedly raised me until I was thirteen. I understood his disdain at first, but as the years went on and he just got nastier and nastier, I grew tired of his shit. I can't even believe she thought it was a good idea to ask this of me.

And I do not want to hear his sob story. She's always felt sorry for him, maybe guilty for having played a part in his parents' failed marriage, but I don't share the same sympathies. There's no point in having sympathy for someone who doesn't want it. Pretty sure me feeling sorry for him is part of why he hates me so much anyway.

"He doesn't hate you," she lies. "That was years ago." She doesn't even believe that. I can hear it in her voice, how much she knows that it's not true. If there's one thing Nicolas Aldana can do, it's hold a fucking grudge. "Come on. Anton was planning to help him pay his dorm fee, but it's cheaper if he just moves in with you. Please?"

Oh , gross . I hate when she says that word.

"We were thinking of renewing our vows and finally having a wedding, and I was so excited—you know how badly I've wanted a wedding! But just… well, with Nic here, I haven't been able to do any planning. It wouldn't be right."

I can hear the phantom begging, can feel it smothering me. She has woefully complained about their lack of a real wedding since they got married. So, she's correct in saying that I know how badly she wants one. And I feel for her––maybe––but fuck. Nic is hard to deal with. He's just a moody little shit who does nothing but listen to bad music and brood all over the place. But I don't want to hear another please from my mom.

And really, I do need a roommate. I don't pay for school, but I do pay rent, and honestly, not even that much. So, it's been nice being able to set most of the money I make working aside. I just want to be set for when I graduate. I have plans and shit.

"I guess," I concede, my head shaking. I can hardly even believe this is my life right now. Liam was supposed to be here. We had planned on being roommates years before we even applied to college. "I'll have to ask Baby, though."

But I know he's going to say yes, can feel that word dragging me deeper into this sour mood I've been stuck in lately. He was just asking what I wanted to do about the room and rent situation a few hours ago.

"He said yes!" She practically giggles as she talks to her husband about it. It's kind of hard to be happy for her when I feel so miserable.

I make sure to move the phone before I let out a heavy sigh. The last time I saw Nic, he was still very much pissed at me for being the reason he was moved out of his mom's house––which is bullshit. Things had to of been fucked up to begin with, and I had nothing to do with that. I don't know the full story and I don't want to know the full story, but basically, I'm the bane of his existence. And all because I had the audacity to give the tiniest fuck about his well-being.

So much for shit being okay.

I don't mean to be dramatic, but basically, my life sucks ass.