19. Autum Jax

T o preserve my sanity , I avoided him for a week. Then that week became two. Three. August came and September buzzed by. At game nights, we barely made eye contact. Tabby sent me no texts, so I sent no replies. I deleted my socials and spent time building a computer with every customizable gadget I could get my hands on just to waste evenings away.

Rob’s messages overran my phone at every turn. What I’d suggested over the past few months would’ve been regular gestures from someone like me—late night massages, small notes, affirmative gifts of time and attention. Rob fished for ideas as if I were a damned Hallmark catalog, but he never asked me to meet with Tabby in person again. Without an excuse, I took that—and Tabby’s harsh rebuff the last time we were alone—as a sign to keep my distance. Instead, I poured my undefined, unrequited feelings into suggestions I would’ve wanted to perform myself.

My favorite time of year was transformed to the worst. With no one at my side, I’d never survive autumn.

Dad was the only person I told about my torn existence. While the fact I was hung up on a man caught him by surprise, he said my life was mine to live and I should love whoever I wanted. In his infinite wisdom, he gave one piece of advice:

“Kid, have you at least told him what you’re feeling? Or are you hoping he’ll figure it out on his own? Hate to break it to ya, but men aren’t any better at mind-reading than women. That’s why I taught you that playing games is a stupid thing to do.”

“Staying quiet might be stupid, but trying to woo someone who’s not single is an asshole thing to do, Dad.” I put him on speaker phone while I installed a cooling fan at the back of my computer tower. “I’m struggling ‘cause it’s not going away, and I only see him once a week. Any tricks for that in your wheelhouse?”

Dad let out a quick sarcastic laugh. “Sure. Pick somebody else.”

“God...easier said than done.” A few people flashed in my mind as potentials—Megan from the sandwich place, my old friend Kelsey from back home, even Ethan. But a block in my head and my heart kept me from moving forward. “Maybe I picked Tabby ‘cause I already know there isn’t a shot. Makes it easier than being outright rejected.”

A long sigh on the other end told me Dad was losing patience with me. “What’s that ridiculous thing people say about basketball? If you take no shots, you’ll make no baskets, or whatever the hell?”

“Something like that.”

“Right, well, this is the same thing, isn’t it? For cryin’ out loud, Jax. Make a move already.”

Whether it was his encouragement or admonition that hit my psyche hardest, I couldn’t tell. But his counsel was clear. I have to stop stalling.

“I’ll figure out something,” I said, wanting so badly to mean it.

“Sounds good, kid. It’s time to move on for you. World’s still spinnin’.”

“Right. Extra hot, extra—”

“Cheese, crispy relleno, give it a shot-o.” Dad chuckled at his own clever half-rhyme, then sighed again. “Love you, Jax.”

“Bye, Dad.”

His words were somewhat hypocritical—after all, he hadn’t done anything to get over his hang-up on Mom. But that was the point of his pushing me, wasn’t it? He didn’t want to see me stay stuck. I needed to make solid connections in my new home sooner rather than later, or loneliness would drive me insane.

––––––––

M id-October, and as things turned orange and gold, I missed home. Missed the snow. Missed what it felt like to have someone want me. Missed snuggling on the couch next to someone I loved.

Ethan knocked on my bedroom door frame soon after closing the shop downstairs. Thursday night, and I’d opted to skip D instead, he dyed it a shocking red for the season, which made his black beard all the more prominent. The tattoo of an anchor on his tanned forearm stood out, too. For all we had in common, we were nearly polar opposites—my conservative, unaltered appearance hid my inner nerd. He wore his personality proudly.

Taking his invitation, I plopped down beside him, leaving a solid foot between us. While I couldn’t tell him the truth about my feelings for Tabby, I could still sidestep and discuss my frustrations.

“It’s just...when I came out here, I thought moving on from my shitty ex would be easy. Turns out, that isn’t so simple. I’m tired of trying to find someone new. Every new person has to get the life story over again. Makes early days feel like therapy. Wouldn’t it be great if you could date like an online job interview and upload the same history for every contender, so you could skip past the ‘let’s see if we’re compatible’ shit and get right to the ‘can this be the end of the line’ stuff instead?”

“Pretty sure you just described online dating...”

“Come on, you know what I really mean. It’s not about meeting someone for the first time; it’s about finding someone who makes the hard work worth it.”

Ethan’s exaggerated smile was cartoonish in a way, though that might’ve been a side effect of his sculpted mustache. “I understand that. I take it you still haven’t gotten laid since you’ve been here? I mean, you haven’t brought anybody home with you, but I figured you at least found a hookup somewhere else. You’re a decent-lookin’ dude, Jax.”

“Thanks.” I scoffed and aimed my face at the floor. “I’m... hung up on somebody, but they’re not interested. I’m not sure I’m built for one-night stands, and everything else feels too exhausting.”

He shifted beside me and put his elbows on his knees, leaning his chin against his put-together knuckles to relax. “The occasional stranger never bothered me. But since Carlos left, it’s been pretty quiet on my end, too.”

“Were you two...you know... more than roommates?” I asked, pretty sure of the answer.

He nodded without meeting my eyes.

“Is that why he moved out? You broke up?”

Ethan sighed, saying enough by saying nothing at all.

“Damn.” I wasn’t sure how to comfort him. Rubbing his firm shoulder, I stayed quiet.

He broke through after an uncomfortable minute. “I think you’re right. It is tiring to get to know someone else. It’s so much easier to find a release that’s not tied to somebody’s feelings.”

I nodded. “Guess you’re right. I’ve just never tried it.”

“Why not?”

As I glanced at him, I asked myself the same question. There wasn’t a good answer.

His mischievous grin sent a shockwave through me. “Like, wouldn’t it be great if you found a friend with benefits?”

Never in my life had I ever considered it, but talking to Ethan, it made too much sense. “I don’t know if I believe that can really exist. But in theory? Yeah. I’d take it in a heartbeat.”

“Oh, it can. Friends care, but not too much. They make sure you’re safe and comfortable.” He righted his spine to sit straight on the bed. “It’s somebody to take your mind off things without an expectation. Even if it’s only once, you know you aren’t alone.”

Thumping in my ears radiated to the tips of my body in unfettered pounding. It wasn’t love, but it was what I needed. His confidence passed over to me. “That would be nice.”

“And...it’s not like it would be weird if we were both cool with it,” he whispered.

For a moment, I forgot about Tabby. About Heather and Chris. About Dad. About Rob. Anything. Months of bottled-up energy boiled my blood.

“Honestly?” I said, staring into his face, “I’m cool with anything that helps me move on from the shit in my head.”

“I’m happy to help.” Ethan made the first move and scooted closer to me.

I’m doing this. Gazing over my mattress, I answered his invitation. “Right here okay?”

“Oh, hell yeah.” Ethan yanked me in by my neck. His lips were soft beyond the forest of his facial hair. I hadn’t kissed anyone in so long, my insides responded the same way it would while drinking a tall glass of water on a hot day—even without being ice cold and perfect, every drop felt good. Necessary. Sustaining. Welcome, and I needed more, to the point that I wouldn’t dare stop. Didn’t want to stop. Contact unlocked my bonds.

We pulled at our clothes until they were no more. My nightstand supplied all the things that we needed. Ethan knew how to touch and the best ways to move, helping me learn as he helped me forget. As the night passed, we traded, one after the other, until both of us finished and said our goodnights.

I fell asleep hard and dreamed about nothing. The next day, I asked Megan for her number, without fear that I’d treat her like a rebound. I had a clean slate.

And that’s how my roommate helped me survive autumn.