That would explain Dan’s words at Emery’s party. Am I bleeding through that badly?
Atlas sports a shit-eating grin.
“The way you two look at each other. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes,” he mocks.
“We’re not . . . dating—”
“But you love him, right? You have feelings for him.”
I must go beet-red by the way his grin widens, and he merrily chuckles to himself, throwing his head back. The messy tousle ofhis hair, the glasses, his full lips, his perfect teeth. I’m doomed. The queer book in my hand comes as a reminder that I’m safe here. I’m okay to express myself, but that doesn’t mean I can entertain these thoughts about Atlas. They’ll lead nowhere.
“But he doesn’t reciprocate those feelings,” Atlas states.
“I don’t know,” I answer, miserable at the gloomy reminder.
“What a shame,” he says. “You should tell him.”
“No,” I bluntly state. Atlas’s leer falters.
“You’ll regret it if you don’t. Life’s too short for secrets.” He looks guilty for saying this. “I’d want to know if I was him. It’s only fair to you both.”
I ruminate over what he said, but I worry more about what Ezra will have to say if I tell him the truth. However, Atlas is right. It pisses me off that he is.
Atlas attempts to work on the papers displayed in front of him. I watch, masking my gaze with the cover of my book, feeling like a creep. An unknown amount of time passes before he dramatically melts onto the carpet with a loud groan. His dramatics wake Ezra up, who blinks groggily at the unfurling scene. I smile at him wearily.
“What is it?” I ask.
“These are the math assignments I need to grade as a tutor,” Atlas replies.
“Come on then,” says Ezra with a hint of his sarcastic nature. A part of me revels in the way he’s opening up, showing his true self to Atlas, but the selfish part of me fears what that means.
“I don’t wanna,” Atlas bemoans.
“Whatever,” Ezra whispers and wraps himself further into his hoodie.
It’s fucking adorable.
“This calls for some alcohol,” our host says and stands up. “Who wants some?”
Ezra perks up at this. I remember the times he’d take hits from Thax’s bong and drink himself silly. For hell’s sake, he showed up at my doorstep high as a kite while I had to explain to Melissa the very bare minimum, fishing for lies from nowhere.
“I do,” he says. And of course, he does. With everything that’s transpired, I don’t blame him, but I don’t want him to lose himself to the substance. I’m suddenly very, very angry at Atlas. I keep to myself, silently watching as Atlas roams over to the kitchen and grabs one of the various bottles Ezra told me he stocked the other night.
“Conin?” questions Atlas.
He’s removing glasses from the kitchen cupboard, placing them pristinely next to a bottle of amber liquid. He nurses the third glass in his hand, waiting expectantly for my answer with a subtle quirk on his lips. The stubble running across his jaw and below his nose is pronounced in the kitchen lights. I feel my blood heat.
“I’m good,” I say.
The truth is that I don’t trust myself around alcohol. I don’t trust myself to not say anything or act on any impulse desires while drunk. What would happen if I gave away that I find Atlas attractive? What would happen if I confessed my love for Ezra and not in just a bro-friend way?
Atlas returns with the bottle of tequila and two clear glasses. He places them on the coffee table. Watching him pour a hearty amount in each, there’s the trepidation of the possibility of where this night could go. Ezra takes the glass Atlas proffers him with a small “thank you” before downing the entirety of it in one gulp. Ezra mentioned once his liking for tequila above other alcohols. That worry from before settles in my chest cavity, hurting the muscle and bone that surrounds it.
“Damn, Ezra. Slow down!” Atlas says, but he’s smiling. That stupid shit-eating grin.
“I can handle my alcohol,” Ezra rebuts with an equal grin of his own.
He moves for the tequila and pours himself another shot. Atlas chuckles. He holds out his so Ezra can give him some more. They both down their shots after a clink of their glasses, Atlas with a fervor he didn’t before, making a race out of it. I don’t believe Atlas will be getting any grading in tonight.
