Chase
I don’t seeCubby again before he goes to Los Angeles. Sully and I get slammed with our projects, and Cubby’s wrapped up preparing, with no second to spare. I know we’re both thinking about each other because we text back and forth, something I usually hate doing. But I guess he must be hurting like I am because somehow, we just don’t quite find a way to meet up.
I feel all kinds of ways. I’m ashamed of how I acted when he told me about his opportunity, pissed at half the shit he said, and disappointed as hell in myself because I don’t want to be telling him what he should and shouldn’t do. I fucking love Cubby, and part of the reason why I’m so impressed by him is that he’s brave enough to do shit like this in the first place.
I love him, and now he’s going to go and live a life I don’t even understand.
Fuck is wrong with me, falling in love with someone who doesn’t live here? This is why I knew I should never open that door. There’s no solution to this problem, nothing I can do that will make him mine, like he should be.
“Damn it,” I grunt. I rip a board off the bathroom wall that I’ve been trying to crowbar out for ten minutes, then toss it to the ground. “Fuck.”
“Huh?” Sully asks, staring at me from the doorway.
I glance at him. “Sorry.” I sigh. “Just remodeling my family’s lake house so we can sell it to a stranger. Puts you in a mood.”
Sully hands me the drill. “And the other thing.”
“Yeah. And that.”
We stare at each other. Sully does me the courtesy of not saying anything, just holding my eye, until finally he clasps my shoulder with a firm rub.
“I think we should stop and have a beer.”
I set the drill on the sink. “All right.”
We walk out to the porch, and immediately, my eyes search across the lake. I’ve been looking at that house my entire life, hidden between pine trees and tucked up behind its skinny dock. It feels different, though, now.
“You should just go over and say hi to him,” Sully says.
I shake my head. “He left today.”
I sit on the bench, and Sully hands me a can, which I crack open.
“Two nights?” he asks, sitting by me.
“Yeah.”
We both look out over the lake in silence. My chest hurts, and I’m hoping my friend will come up with the magic thing to say to make this all better.
“I’d encourage you to go try the city,” he says finally, “but I know you wouldn’t.”
I puff air out of my nose. “This is my home.”
“I know.”
I raise an eyebrow. “What?”
“You love him.”
“Never said that.”
“I know. Just never seen you love someone before.”
We drink our beers.
“Well, fuck,” I say.
“Wouldn’t hurt to travel a little more. Get out of here sometimes. Visit Cubby, maybe. It doesn’t have to end here.”
