Page 22 of Between the Pipes

Eric throws his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close for a side hug.

“That’s not your only disability and you know it,” he says softly. “The people who matter aren’t going to give a shit that you use an app so that it doesn’t take you an hour to do tasks that take them five minutes. They aren’t going to care that you need the cereal boxes and canned goods in rainbow colored order from right to left or else you have to run an extra mile to burn off the anxiety until the next time you think about it.

“They won’t make life harder for you, Isaiah.”

Burying my face in his shoulder, I let the tears fall again. I shouldn’t have anything left in me at this point, but try telling that to my dumb brain and its inability to process emotions correctly. Okay, so maybe my brain isn’t screwed up when it comes to emotions, but I still don’t want to be crying right now.

Through it all, Eric holds me like I imagine a big brother would. Growing up as an only child of moderately well-off parents was a lonely existence, so I revel in the close connections when I find them. It takes about a half an hour for me to settle down again, but when Eric opens his mouth, all I can do is laugh.

“Now that we’ve maybe solved the Sam Talbot issue, what’s the sitch on this Mr. Kinsey? Is he the sexy silver fox you told me stars in all of your fantasies?”

For the next hour, I tell him all about the man who stole the heart of a sixteen year old kid without ever knowing and how much the thought of his approval or disapproval has shaped my actions since leaving Juniors.

“And then he saw me standing there, having just creamed my pants from watching him blow my landlord.”

Eric has tears in his eyes by the time he’s finished laughing. At the time, I was mortified by the situation. But he’s right to laugh. It’s a fucking awkward and hilarious situation happening to someone else. Unfortunately, it happened to me and now I have to figure out what the fuck to do about it.

“Okay, Little Prince,” he gasps out while attempting to stop the laughter. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Tonight, you’re crashing here. You get the pull out couch cuz I’m older and you owe me.”

I smack him on the shoulder and he rolls off the edge of the bed to grab a couple of bottles of water from the mini-fridge.

“Tomorrow, we’ll get your two misters over here to talk and we’ll see what happens. If things are sorted out, you go back home with Sam. If things aren’t, you can come with me down to Baltimore to meet up with the guys and waste the holiday partying at the Inner Harbor.”

The water is colder than the beer was, but I know I’ll regret not drinking it when I wake up with a headache from dehydration tomorrow. I reluctantly nod at my friend before heading into the bathroom to get changed for bed. When I come out, Eric is snoring on the pullout with the covers turned down on the bed for me.

I don’t deserve to have a friend like him.