“What do you mean?”
“He said you gave him a ride?”
“Well, sure. We flew back together.”
“You were in Charlotte?”
Shouts exploded from the other room, the crowd cheering something on. The music got louder, blaring.
“Tyler was in LA. He stayed with me after the holidays, after Malibu.”
“Malibu?”
“They always do New Year’s in Malibu with his grandmother.”
On New Year’s, I’d ended work early and ordered a pizza. I sat with it and a bottle of wine, texting back and forth with Tyler until midnight arrived. He said he’d gone to a party with some high school friends. He called it tragic and boring. Why would he lie about being in California?
“Ah, here he is—”
Addison shifted, making space for Tyler as he crossed the kitchen. Tyler’s eyes were dark spinning disks, the lights of the kitchen swirling in his enormous pupils. He was with some guy—someone familiar. Where did I know him from?
“Where have you all been?” Tyler asked.
“Oh, hi,” the guy said. He stuck out his hand. “It’s Paul. From Sawyer. We met at the end of semester thing.”
At the Walton Walk. Elaine’s grad student.
“You all have met?” Tyler asked. I saw then that his hand was resting on Paul’s shoulder and Paul’s arm circled his waist, holding Tyler up, or pulling him close, or both. “That’s so funny we’re all here.”
“Small world,” Paul said, grinning.
Tyler peeled himself away and rummaged through the counter’s debris, lifting bottles, finding them empty, putting them down. He grabbed one—still half full. “Let’s go back and dance.”
“Come with,” Paul said, eyes lighting on mine. He turned and moved out of the kitchen. Tyler stepped to follow—I grabbed his wrist, holding him in place, letting Paul leave.
I lowered my voice and leaned in. “What is going on here?”
“It’s a party. Relax.” His eyes ricocheted around the room, looking at everything but me. “That hurts.”
“What are you doing with Paul?”
“I thought we said we were having fun tonight.”
“Just—come outside. I need to talk to you.”
Paul stuck his head back in the doorway, eyes bright. “Get in here!” He stretched an arm toward Tyler.
Tyler yanked from my grip and disappeared into the crush of bodies. I started to yell after him and caught myself. I pushed from the kitchen toward the corridor.
“Hold on.” Addison reached for me, but I pulled away, shoving through the crowd. As the hallway met the living room, I turned to look. Paul and Tyler dancing, closing the space between them. Paul’s hands at Tyler’s waist, Tyler’s palms on his chest.
I flew down the porch, across the lawn, into the street. I turned left, then right. I needed to get out of here. Where was the fucking car? My keys slipped from my hand, clanging to the asphalt. I bent to pick them up and the street spun, out of balance and askew. I stood, the rush of blood through my brain an avalanche.
“Fuck.”
“Hey, Dr. Lausson! Mark!” Addison was sprinting across the lawn toward me. “Wait up.” He gasped and steadied himself, his breath steaming the air between us. “Are you leaving?”
“I am. You guys are going to have to find some other way home.”
