Manties in a Twist (The Subs Club Book 3) (31 page)

But he let me in and sat on the couch with me and asked, “What’s up?”

“Uh. Ryan and me had a fight.”

“About what?”

I took another few seconds to try to calm down. “About moving to Cleveland.”

He nodded. “Dave said you were moving.”

I looked at him and wanted to basically beg him to tell me what to do. Because he had a really nice face—everyone always talked about his nice face and how it made you think he could solve any problem. “I just get so confused sometimes about whether I’m doing adulting right.”

He smiled and shook his head. Put his arm around me. “Come here.” He pulled me against his shoulder.

I blinked for a moment. “You smell good.”

“Thanks.”

I tried to look up at him. “And now I’m fighting with Dave because he thinks I abandoned the group because I didn’t come to your birthday and I’m always with Ryan and Ryan doesn’t know anything about Hal. And I think maybe that’s why I told Ryan I’d move, because I was mad at Dave. But now I’ve got all this shit running through my head, like if Ryan
does
want to move, then don’t I have to respect that? We can’t just stay here forever because
I
want to, right?”

“I think—”

“But I don’t think he really does want to move. I think he just has one of those brains where he thinks that whatever he’s doing, he should actually be doing something else. Like he second-guesses all his decisions. Except when we do pony play, and then he’s super focused, and he’s an amazing handler.”

Gould nodded.

“I think he’s really happy here. With me. Mostly. But I don’t know. And how do I know
I
wouldn’t be happier somewhere else? I don’t think I would, but I’ve never tried it.”

“So you think—”

“And there’s all this stuff I never really thought about in terms of relationships, because I was too freaking in love to care. But what if we
do
break up, and I don’t have anywhere to live. And if we had a dog, who would get the dog? And do I get to keep the ‘Snow Wanderer’ drawings? Because those were a gift, but they’re also his greatest creation.”

“Slow down,” Gould said gently.

I clutched at him, thinking suddenly about my parents. “Gould. Why does anyone get married?”

“Whoooooaaaaa, Kamen.”

That was a command I’d gotten real good at responding to.

He clapped me on the back. “No one’s getting married. There is no dog. I’m not sure what ‘Snow Wanderer’ is. Take a couple deep breaths.”

I did. Raised my head from his shoulder and looked at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to your birthday party.”

“It’s fine.”

“I didn’t know the concert was on the same day.”

“I know.”

“I was drunk when I bought the tickets.”

“It’s cool.”

“And then I got mad at Dave, and I hardly ever get mad at anyone.”

“It’s gonna be all right.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Very sure. It’s okay to tell Ryan you don’t want to move right now. All you have to do is talk to him, and I’m sure you’ll work it out. And then talk to Dave.”

“He’s pissed at me.”

“He misses you. So much. Believe me.”

I didn’t answer. I believed him a little because of the nice face.

He glanced at the door. “What if I went to get milkshakes? And alcohol? And then we can talk all evening?”

Milkshakes and alcohol did seem like they’d make everything better. But I didn’t want to be alone yet, so I made him spoon with me on the couch for a solid half hour.

’Cause everyone needed spooning sometimes.

While I was waiting for Gould to get back, Dave came home. He had a Styrofoam mannequin head under one arm.

He did kind of a double take when he saw me, which made me feel like a trainload of suck, because it used to be totally normal for him to come home and find me in his house.

“You okay?” he muttered. “You look kinda pale.”

“I came here to talk to Gould about, um, how Ryan and I had a fight. And he went to get milkshakes.”

Dave didn’t say anything. He set the mannequin head on the coffee table.

“I don’t think I want to move to Cleveland.”

Dave shook his head. “You’ll probably change your mind as soon as you and Ryan make up. Just like you’ll change your plans if Matchbox Twenty comes to town—”

“Fuck off. Gould said it was fine I wasn’t there.”

“Well, you know he doesn’t exactly speak up when something bothers him.”

“So you have to do it for him?” I shot back.

“I try to look out for him. Unlike
some
people.”

“There you go trying to choreograph other people’s lives again.”

“
Choreograph
? Where’d you pick that one up? Ryan?”

“I know what ‘choreograph’ means. You know, I don’t want to say this. But you’re being a real Kristy right now.”

“Yeah? Well Kristy got shit done.”

“But she was insufferable about it.”

“Insufferable? Seriously, what’s happened to you?”

“I know what words mean, Dave! Why do you think I don’t know words?”

“I know you know words, I just think that ever since you’ve been with Ryan, you’ve been totally different, and I fucking
hate
it.”

We both stared at each other for a moment.

I focused on the mannequin head. “This is so stupid. We’re not in eighth grade anymore.”

“Really? Because you just went to a Matchbox Twenty concert.”

I almost laughed.

Dave stepped closer. “I just don’t
get
it. You’re gonna move? Is that something you want, or something he wants you to want?”

“
I
want it. Maybe. Why is that so hard for you to believe, that I could want to leave here? I’ve always wanted to see other places.”

“So go see them!” Dave’s voice broke slightly, and he hesitated. “And then . . . come back.” He had kind of a pre-crying face going on, and it surprised me.

“Hey . . .”

He mumbled something and put his hand on the mannequin head.

“What?” I asked.

“I feel like he’s taking you away from us. I don’t want to feel like that, but I do. That’s why I . . .” He let out a long sigh.

I picked at the throw cushion. “I would come back. If I moved, I’d visit all the time. But I have to do some things that are just for me. I know you guys care about me, but you also— You all have this idea of me that’s, like, outdated. I know I’m hard to take seriously, but I
am
growing up, and I’m trying to have a relationship, and a career, and—and nobody thinks it’s weird for Miles to want those things, but it’s like you still expect me to be Kamen from high school.”

Dave didn’t answer. I wasn’t trying to make him cry, but, like, he was an emotional little fucker, and he’d probably feel better if he cried, honestly. He stared at me. “I don’t mean to do that.”

“You’re like, ‘Just stand at the kink fair and look pretty, Kamen, because you can’t handle actual responsibilities.’ ‘You don’t really want to move to Cleveland, Kamen, because you couldn’t possibly know anything about moving or Cleveland or wanting things.’ Well, fuck you.” I didn’t say it angrily—more like kinda tired and a little bit, like, trying to let him know I loved him even when he was being a dick.

He was gripping the Styrofoam head hard enough to leave some serious dents. “That’s not how I feel.”

“It’s okay,” I told him. “It’s okay to let us all make our own mistakes, or let us, you know, succeed outside of the group. You’re allowed to focus on your relationship with D, and on going to school, and not always worry about other people.”

He looked down.

I went on. “Nothing terrible’s gonna happen just because you can’t keep an eye on us all the time.” I waited until he was looking up, then smiled a little. “I’m a big boy. A hobo’s not gonna steal my sandwich.”

He took a deep breath, but then swallowed and nodded instead of talking.

“Ryan was right. And I know you don’t like when he’s right, but he was. If we’re gonna make this group work—and I don’t mean the Subs Club, I mean
us
, our family—then it can’t just be the easy stuff and the group hugs. It’s got to be everything. The—the tough issues and the disagreeing and the trying to see all the sides.”

“Okay,” he said quietly.

“We got through Hal. We did. All of us, together. Anything else . . . We can do it. Right? Piece of cake?”

“Uh-huh.” He tried to smile, but then a single tear fell. And, Jesus Christ, no one can resist a single tear.

“Do you want a hug?” I asked.

He shook his head, but I called bullshit. Dude was a hug-whore.

I stood. He tried to back up so I couldn’t reach him, but I grabbed him. Murdered him a little, slowly, with my arms, and also with all the love in the world. After a few seconds of resistance, his hands came up and clutched my shoulders.

“I know,” he whispered against my shoulder. “I know all the things you’re telling me, and I still act like this, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not. I hate losing people. I hate it. And you . . . You’ve always been the one who makes everyone feel better. About everything. If you’re not around, like, what’s even the point?”

“I’m gonna be around. No matter where I am, I’m gonna be around.”

I felt him nod.

Gould came in with a large paper bag in his arms. Stopped when he saw us hugging. Raised his eyebrows at me. I gave him a thumbs-up.

Dave took a step back and looked at Gould. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Gould held up a carton of milkshakes. “I got three.”

Ryan was still up when Gould dropped me off that night. He was drawing in the living room. I was a little drunk. Collingsworth started to lumber to the door to greet me, then face-planted.

“We need to talk,” I told Ryan.

He looked up and nodded.

I got down on my knees in front of the couch and waited until the room stopped blurring. “I’ve done a really dumb job of being a friend and a boyfriend at the same time. I know I’m really close with my friends, and it’s a little weird, but we’ve just got to find a way to deal with that. Because I love them.”

He nodded.

I put my hand on his knee, then stared at it. “And I do respect what you want. That’s an important thing that I want you to know. I can compromise. But . . . I don’t know if I’m ready to move to Cleveland yet. I shouldn’t have told you I wanted to if it wasn’t true. And I shouldn’t have implied that
you
didn’t really want it just to make me feel better about being a douche. So can we maybe stay here for at least a couple of years, and then reconsider?”

He sighed and leaned back. Set the drawing tablet aside. “I don’t need to move to Cleveland either. I just . . . I’m exactly like my parents said. I suck at holding still. I suck at being satisfied. You—
us
—this is the first time I’ve felt content. And I think it’s freaking me out. Because I keep expecting to feel like I need to be doing something different. And I don’t feel that.”

I squeezed his knee and got a little fascinated watching my fingers move. “But what if you do want other things, and I’m holding you back?”

He shook his head. “If we want other things someday, we can have other things someday. But honestly, I’m really fucking happy right now.”

I smiled a little. “Me too.”

He rubbed his face. “I can’t even tell you how relieved I was when you said you didn’t want to move. It was like I didn’t even realize until right then that the stuff I’d been telling myself about what I wanted was mostly bullshit.”

“I’m sorry I said the thing about your parents.”

“I’m sorry I said the thing about your friends.”

I climbed up to sit beside him. “I want you to like them. My friends, I mean. I don’t want you to think they dictate my life.”

“I guess I feel a little threatened by them.”

“But
why
? They’re such dork skillets.”

“They’re awesome. It’s just sometimes—and I can’t even figure out why—I get so scared that I can’t live up to . . . what they are to you, I guess?”

I leaned against him. “You’re already everything. I mean, seriously—anything I could want, you are that.”

“You’re right. I wasn’t there.”