Which was just horsing around, until Cliff decided to turn it into a PornHub clip.
“I should get going.” Cliff picked up his backpack.
“We should hang out. When was the last time the three of us shot the shit?” Alex sat up. “Have you guys been to Azucar yet? It’s this cafe in town. They have coffee, but also food, sweets, and ice cream. And really comfortable couches. It’s a real Central Perk vibe.”
“I’m down,” Brennan said.
Alex looked to his brother. “Cliff?”
“I, uh, have a paper to write and then practice.”
“Who writes a paper before two a.m.?” Alex prided himself on being the King of Extensions. He knew how to charm teachers in high school to get them to relax deadlines. Asking about their kids, discussing big initiatives he had planned on student council. Cliff would have basketball practice into the night and really could’ve used extensions, but he never had the balls to ask.
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“You won’t. I’m inviting you.”
Cliff glanced at Brennan to get his vote on whether he should join them. Brennan’s face was like stone, giving nothing away. Their eyes met for a second before Brennan looked down at the floor, crumpling Cliff’s spirit like a botched paper snowflake.
“I’m sorry. I can’t.”
He flung his backpack over one shoulder and bumped into Brennan at the door, making sure to leave on an awkward high note.
* * *
The backpack staredat Cliff from the floor of his room, taunting him.This is bad, Cliff thought. Your brother’s best friend’s ball sweat-covered T-shirt is in your possession.
He would return both shirts. Cram them into some corner of Brennan’s loft during his next lesson. Perhaps under the bed or behind the hamper.
Brennan would never suspect a thing.
But he had to stop. This was a pattern, a bad thought. Serial killers had patterns. He didn’t know what part of his brain was in control when he purloined these items. If anyone ever found out that Cliff had been stealing sweaty clothes for his own sexual deviations, it would be the end of his life at Browerton, the end of any possible career. Google was permanent.
Those scared thoughts were wildly overruled by the stirring in his shorts, the swelling of his cock that hadn’t subsided since Brennan’s apartment. He couldn’t stop himself. He craved more. Having Brennan back in his life had sparked a new kind of energy in him.
Cliff heard Dell having a conversation in the hallway. He opened his door and suddenly found himself in the middle of a FaceTime tour of the dorm.
“Hey Mom and Dad, this is my friend Cliff! He’s on the team with me and has a sick jump shot.”
“Hello.” Cliff waved awkwardly into the screen of Dell’s iPhone. A lovely older couple waved back. They sat at what looked to be a kitchen table.
Dell turned the phone back to himself, with a natural calm in front of the camera. “All right, I’m gonna go. Talk to you tomorrow!”
From his short time on campus, Cliff had already seen that there were two types of students: the kids who call their parents everyday and the kids who don’t. Cliff had weekly Zoom calls, and that was enough for him. He didn’t have enough material to talk about on a daily basis - with his parents or anyone.
“They seem cool.”
“My folks? They’re the best. They’re still getting used to their son being away from home. It’s tough. They miss me terribly.”
Cliff had a feeling Dell felt the same way about his parents. It was sweet. Cliff had some homesickness, but years of basketball camps had trained him for being away from home. And Brennan proved to be a welcome distraction.
“What?” Dell asked, catching Cliff off-guard.
“Huh?”
“You’re smiling about something.” Dell raised an eyebrow. “Or someone.”
Cliff tried to remove the smile off his face, but Dell’s prying only made him smile harder. He used to be so good at holding in his emotions, but he didn’t feel like hiding them around Dell. There was an unspoken comfort developing around him. Maybe it was the handshake.
