“But I feel jealous,” he said, with a weak laugh. “It’s fucked up.”
“Come on,” Daisy said, “it sucks when you feel pushed out of a friendship. Sucks for anyone. But this won’t last long. Will’s having a fling. It’s nobody’s business but his and Lucky’s. And when she comes back—” Daisy raised up her hand and let it hang there. “I think a lot of things will go back to normal.”
Erik took her hand between his. “I don’t dislike the guy. He’s all right when he stops trying so hard and just chills.”
“He’s unpredictable,” she said. “And he’s making Will unpredictable. You don’t like that.”
“I don’t like that I don’t like it,” he said.
“Well, you only like when people act the way you expect them to.” She moved fully up and onto his body, her legs between his. With her forearms crossed on his chest and her chin on top, she was unbearably beautiful. Sometimes she looked at him a certain way and his heart reset itself, closed up coyly just for the pleasure of opening to her again.
“Stop knowing me,” he said, running his hand along her cheek and into her hair.
She smiled. In the glow of the Christmas tree lights, her eyes were like a Caribbean sea. They stared into his for a long time.
He sighed. “Fine, I’ll go back and get another condom.”
“One?”
“Lots.”
She moved off him. “What a nice boy you are.”
He stepped into his jeans and pulled sneakers onto his bare feet. Zipping his jacket over his bare chest he leaned and kissed her. “Don’t go away.”
“Nowhere I’d rather be.”
It was clear and cold outside. A bright full moon hung straight overhead, washing the backyards in silver. Erik let himself into his kitchen. The living room was dark except for one small table lamp. The couch was empty, but James’s jacket was still slung over the back. Two textbooks were on the coffee table.
A pair of jeans was on the floor.
Erik looked at them, open-mouthed. Then he looked away and exhaled abruptly.
Well, there you have it, folks, he thought.
Like Hansel and Gretel he followed the trail upstairs: a sneaker on one step, its mate further up. Another pair of jeans on the landing. A sweater flung against the baseboard moldings. “Outstanding,” he whispered. He imagined this would be funny someday.
It might even be a little funny right now.
Behind him the bathroom door opened, then quickly closed again. Fucking hilarious, Erik thought. Shaking his head, he went into his room. He clicked on the bedside lamp and opened his side table drawer.
Empty.
“Not funny,” he said.
He turned off the lamp and went to stand in his doorway, leaning on the jamb, arms crossed. The bathroom door opened again. Will came out, a towel around his waist. He smiled. As if they had run into each other on the street.
“What’s up, asshole?”
“You cleaned out my rubbers, dude. That ain’t cool.”
“No,” Will said, inclining his head. “It ain’t.”
“I had nine in there. I believe. Were you planning to use all of them?”
“Just a minute.” Will walked down the hall, noiseless on his cushioned feet. His confidence was absolute. Not a shred of digested canary on this cool cat. After a moment he slipped back out his door and returned two of the three-packs.
“Thank you,” Erik said. He looked at Will. His friend gazed back, half-naked, poised and self-aware. Apologetic about the pilfered property but nothing else. “Goodnight, Will.”
“Be safe, Fish.”
Erik waved the hand holding the condoms.
His manner stayed calm as he walked back to Daisy’s. He waited to be upset. He should be upset. He, who didn’t mind homosexuality as long as it wasn’t in his face. Will and James were not only in his face but in his bedside table drawer. He should be disgusted. Appalled and confused. Betrayed. Or at least a little sad.
He felt weirdly fine.