“What are you doing?” their dad asked. “We’re having a family conversation.”
“Just had to finish sending an email.” Alex exited the travel website, his jaw tight. Busted.
The boys gave a rundown of their classes, and their parents gave a rundown of empty nest life and plans to come out for homecoming later that month. It was a perfectly benign conversation, with both sides getting what they wanted: the parents received info on their boys, and their boys got brownie points as good sons.
“You can tell him to stop.” Alex shut the Zoom window after the call and returned to searching for flights. “When he goes on about hoops. I feel like we indulge him a little too much.”
“It’s fine.” Cliff couldn’t imagine telling his dad to stop anything.
Silence befell the brothers once again. Cliff stood up to leave.
“I feel like we’ve barely gotten to see each other.” Alex turned away from his computer. “What’s going on? How’s college life outside basketball?”
“I just shared all of that with Mom and Dad,” Cliff said with a laugh that masked his frustration. How was Cliff supposed to answer such generic blanket questions likewhat’s going on? “Things are good.”
“What’s good supposed to mean? That’s an answer for the ‘rents. I’m not asking about classes and papers.” Alex waited for a better answer, like there was some secret, brothers-only intel Cliff was saving for him. “What’ve you been up to?”
Alex waited for the hot gossip. It put a lump in Cliff’s throat.
I did some stuff with your best friend. And his shirts.
“Practice. Class. Hanging out with my teammates.”
“And Brennan.”
Cliff held steady. He studied Alex’s face for any hidden meaning.
“He said you’re quite the artist.”
Just knowing that Brennan was talking about him sent a rush of shivers up Cliff’s spine. He licked his bottom lip, hoping to still be able to taste him.
“What made you decide to take art?”
Cliff shrugged. “Distribution requirement.”
“Ladies love sensitive artist guys.” Alex’s eyebrows gave a suggestive jump, which left a sour taste in Cliff’s mouth.
Their conversation hit a familiar dead end. The only part of college life Cliff wanted to talk to someone about was something he could never see himself sharing with anyone, least of all Alex.
They loved each other. But maybe they were just too different, and not even being at college together could change that.
After the silence dragged on a few more interminable seconds, he got up to leave. Alex said that they would grab margaritas together soon. Cliff said that sounded awesome, even though he knew it was a pipe dream.
12
BRENNAN
“Ilike that.” Rachel strolled around the art studio while taking a break from her painting. She took a lot of breaks, but at least she used her procrastination to give thoughtful comments to her classmates’ art. With the wrong type of people, creative programs ran the risk of being incredibly toxic spaces.
Brennan had continued working on the piece he started after he returned home from Cliff’s room, adding texture and refinement to the boy in the middle of the chaos.
“It’s so vivid and emotional.” She curled a strand of her hair around her finger.
“Thanks.”
“There’s a story here.”
Heat crept up Brennan’s neck.Oh, yes. And this story would remain a big ole secret.
