“I’m trying to scare you to the point that you won’t have the urge to masturbate when we get back home.”
My jaw pops open, and I flip Ryan the bird with both hands, holding them up high enough to be seen clearly in the starlight. “You’resuchanasshole.”
Ryan snickers, not even bothering to be offended. He begins packing everything up, confusing me since we onlyjust arrived. Noticing my furrowed brow, he explains, “I’m cold and tired. Give me a piggyback ride to the car.”
My furrowed brow turns into a scowl. “Ryan, you’re not five years old.”
“No, but I am someone who is trying to save you from death by masturbation.” He’s already moving behind me, clearly expecting compliance. “Consider it payment for my therapeutic services.”
I should argue. Ryan’s perfectly capable of walking the quarter mile back to the car. But there’s something about the absurdity of the request—my usually dignified roommate wanting a piggyback ride—that makes me laugh. Plus, he’s right. He did just freeze his ass off to help me work through my Drew-related crisis.
“Fine,” I sigh, getting to my knees. “Hop on.”
Ryan climbs onto my back with surprising agility, his arms wrapping around my shoulders. He’s lighter than I expected, thanks to his sharp angles and bony limbs.
“Mush,” he says solemnly.
“I will drop you in the ocean.”
“You won’t. You love me too much.”
He’s right, but I grumble anyway as I stand, adjusting him. The walk back to the car is slower than usual, partly because of the extra passenger with a telescope case hitting me in the chest, and partly because the sand makes every step twice as difficult. Ryan, naturally, provides commentary the entire way.
“You know, this is quite comfortable. I can see why people enjoyed sedan chairs in ancient times.”
“Four people carried those.”
“Details.” His chin rests on top of my head. “Oh, look, Cassiopeia is particularly clear tonight.”
“Ryan, I swear to God.”
“I’m just saying, if you need a break, we could stop, and I could show you.”
“We’re twenty feet from my car.”
“Distance is relative. Einstein proved that.”
Despite my complaining, there’s something oddly comforting about Ryan’s weight on my back, his ridiculous commentary, and the rhythm of walking across familiar sand. It’s normal in a way that nothing has been since the roller rink.
Maybe I can figure this out and find a way forward that doesn’t involve hiding in my dorm room with a bottle of lube and my shame.
“Thank you,” I say quietly as we reach the car.
Ryan slides off my back. “For the impromptu astronomy lesson?”
“For caring enough to intervene.”
He pauses, hand halfway to the door handle, and glances at me over the roof. “Jackson, you’re one of my favorite people on this planet. Of course, I care. Even if your recent habits have turned our room into a fertility clinic.”
“And you ruined it.”
“I’m gifted like that.” He opens the car door and slides into the passenger seat. “Now get in before we both freeze to deathand become cautionary tales about the dangers of stargazing in the middle of winter.”
I climb into the driver’s seat. “If you ever need an intervention, I’m taking you to a football game.”
He groans. “God help us all.”
ICE QUEEN BLOG POST #4
