"Chris"
"Chris, you're on mute."
I wasn't on mute. That's just the polite way us work-from-homers tell each other to pay the fuck attention.
"Sorry, Susie. I was multi-tasking."
That's the similarly polite response that means they caught me red-handed. There's a whole language to work now that prevents shy, anti-confrontation types like me and my colleagues from having to say what we really think. Luckily, you learn it quickly.
"That's alright. Let's just take this offline."
Ah. Susie was throwing me a life raft.
"Perfect"
With the sting of knowing no one else on the call was convinced by this back-and-forth wearing off, I returned to my daydream.
It had been four days since Ian and Adam last came over and I was still riding this most recent high of feeling liked. I mean, I feel liked. I have friends. But it's been a long time since it's felt this sycophantic - since I've wanted to endear myself so much to two people, desperate for their acceptance. It felt like high school again, except this time it actually felt mutual.
We started texting a few days prior, Adam and I. Ian too, but Adam and I were really going back and forth, computer stuff for the most part. I had something he wanted as someone in the industry for nearly a decade: real-world experience and the answers to what might happen after college. He had that wide-eyed, anything is possible attitude I had around the same time, meticulously planning my twenties years in advance. Where I would live. What my house would look like. What car I would drive. Enjoy it, kid. Life has a way of making you feel silly for thinking the future is so bright.
I had gotten a text shortly after they were last here informing me that the final two weeks of Ian's summer school were going to be spent on vacation - Adam's family having come down from Jersey to scoop up both of them before heading to Cancun. What I would have given in my teen years to spend two weeks at a resort with my best friend. Unsupervised. I've been there myself of course, multiple times (Texans tend to skip the Caribbean and Hawaii in favor of the short flight to the Yucatan), but those trips never seemed to materialize the sexy debauchery television might imply is requisite in these kinds of swanky beach resorts.
On this day they were both clearly bored.
"You all arent getting into too much trouble are you?" - my text to Adam. I tried to come off cool but regretted my phrasing instantly.
"Nah lol. Just swimming and trying to sneak drinks but its harder than it looks" - his initial reply.
"The drinks I mean."
"Ians got his eye on this chick but im keeping him in check."
"Haha. Ian doing his thing it sounds like. What's her name?" I didn't care about her name save for it feeding my fantasy of imagining Ian plowing some exotic teenage beauty on vacation with reckless abandon.
"Gabriella"
"I mean, fuck she's super hot. Mexican, brown skin, great body sheeeeeesh. but he gets in these moods where he forgets he has a girlfriend"
"Ugh I guess I have to be honest I kinda want it to not go anywhere so I maybe get a pass, not that I have a chance with someone like her." I sympathized completely with Adam's mindset.
"Don't sweat it dude. Ian's thinking of himself. As always"
"He's gonna regret it soooo much if they do something and Cindy finds out."
My heart started racing. I had been looking for an opportunity like this - to say something disparaging about Ian to Adam. In private. Start driving the tiniest of wedges between them. Most childhood friendships don't last into adulthood for a myriad of reasons. I had enough life experience to know that was exactly where these two were headed. It was finally my turn to volley Ian with a mind game of my own.
"Hahaha fuck you," Adam replied.
Was I caught? A full two minutes went by. I started feeling a lump in my throat.
"Yer right tho dude only thinks with his dick." Thank god, I thought. This first step was a success after all.
"We barely even hung last night after dinner, kinda ticked me off"
"Like he gets bottomless pussy whenever he wants back home and he has to go chase it here too"
"I mean, hes only here because my parents want ME to have a good time."
"His parents cant afford this shit! Hes lucky to be here"
I was taken aback by his outburst. There was more going on inside this friendship than I thought, but now wasn't the time to go down this path with him.
"Yeah man. Not cool. Sounds like he needs a reality check."
"For sure"
"I just don't know if I can do 10 more days here if I'm gonna have to listen to him fucking every night with me in the other bed"
"Lol pervert." I was feeling comfortable enough to give Adam his own barb.
"I mean, you got all the boys to choose from too right? Ian's not swimming in that pool. (No pun intended, haha) Show him what you can do dude!"
"Ha. Yeah yeah I hear ya Cris thanks." He misspelled by name but damn if I didn't swoon seeing it come from him on my tiny screen.
"Its hard man. Like how do I even know who likes boys too?"
"Or if they like me? :("
This was quickly progressing into territory I just wasn't comfortable with...or knowledgable. I sure as shit wasn't hooking up with anyone at that age. My instinct to shut down was fighting my desire to keep this conversation going. This is the most meaningful exchange the two of us have had yet. I had no clue how to respond, but I knew I had to keep this going somehow.
"Yeah man, I feel like when I was in high school you could tell exactly which boys were gay. Its gotta be harder now."
"Im not gay dude"
Fuck. Not the response I was expecting.
"Sorry yeah. I know, I just mean, like it used to be you were into girls or everyone knew you were into guys. No middle ground." I was flailing. I stared at Adam's text bubble pulsating over and over again, dreading what it would reveal next.
"Hey were about to hit the pool"
"later"
Shit. I said the wrong thing.....
I always say the wrong thing.
Ian bounded in hurriedly through my front door, two gym bags bursting at the seams over his shoulders and a cardboard box full of bottles in his hands, his biceps, exposed from his trademark tank, were flexed to the max. He looked so...powerful. This, despite still being on the skinny side - at least compared to some of his muscle-bound contemporaries I've subscribed to on an alt-Instagram account I had been keeping. What a presence Ian could command on social media if he ever decided to do it.
Adam followed in tow, every bit Ian's little soldier, his haul including a case each of Bud Heavy and High Noon seltzer and a large backpack full of undetermined contents. Both had significantly tanned since I last saw them exactly two weeks ago. A little too much if you ask me, but I suppose you're not going to just stop going outside on vacation when you've reached peak tan. Both boys deposited their loads synchronously with a loud thud onto my kitchen counter.
"Fucking finally!" Ian exclaimed. "Been carrying that shit for fifteen minutes."
"What is all this?" I asked.
I was confused. It was made clear that we were going to be celebrating the end of Ian's summer school (for which Ian got an A- average, his best marks ever), and thus an end to this unusual, oddly fulfilling, and unforgettable arrangement between the two of us, but this seemed like entirely too much booze for the three of us.
"Just stocking up my dude. Tonight is going to be epic!"
I opted not to push it. I hadn't yet told Ian that I had decided a few days prior that the end of my summer homework responsibilities would also mean the end of our friendship, at least the end to anything beyond a neighborly head nod if I saw him on the street. The last two months had made it crystal clear to me that I needed to grow up and focus on meaningful relationships with people my own age. This summer was a welcomed anomaly, necessary to wake me up, and give me some confidence. I was happy it happened, but I was equally happy it was coming to an end.
"Hey, dude." Ian again. "Got all these gross-ass clothes from the trip and our washer is broken. Cool if I use your shit?"
I suddenly imagined myself alone with a bag full of Ian's dirty, smelly clothes. I'm not usually into that kind of thing, or so I thought, but I had a sudden desire to stick my face in deep and breathe in heavily.
"Yeah man, of course. My laundry is downstairs in the bas..."
"Cool, thanks!" He was gone in a flash, seeming to know exactly where to go without needing my instruction. I was left in the kitchen with Adam, who was by now putting away the beers in the fridge.
"So the rest of the trip went alright then?"
I knew the answer, I was just making small talk. Adam and I had continued talking all trip long, so I knew that, for example, Ian indeed began hooking up with Gabriella. That Adam would come back to the room, drunk and ready for bed, only to hear screams of pleasure plainly audible from the hallway, forcing him to aimlessly wander the property, dick hardened, until the two of them tired themselves out. I also knew that Adam met and had made headway with a cute, blonde 14-year old from Dallas named Caleb who Adam described as being a "boy next door" type and "nice beyond belief", but that when he finally mustered up the courage to move things forward the night before Caleb's family was set to leave, he was told plainly and coldly that "it's not like that dude", breaking Adam's little teenage heart.
He looked over at me with his big eyes without saying a word.
"Sorry, Adam. Honestly, it sounds like it was a nightmare."
"It's fine, dude, thanks. It's just...." He let out a huge exhale. "One day I want things to go my way and not Ian's. Just once. I'm getting tired of always feeling like his bitch." I could hear the adolescent exasperation in his voice. He continued.
"Did I tell you he gave me his phone one night to respond to one of Cindy's texts while he was getting head from that Mexican slut?"
"Wait, what?"
"Yeah, he said if he didn't respond quickly enough it would be suspicious to her, and that I was the only one in the world who knew him well enough to sound like him texting."
"Shit, did it work?"
"Of course, it worked. I got to watch him cum in her mouth and Cindy never knew the first thing. Ian wins again." Adam said with a slight roll to his eyes.
"Damn, dude, that's fucked u....."
"What's fucked up???" It was Ian booming as he returned from the basement stairwell. I looked over at Adam, who I was relying on to come up with an appropriate save.
"Uhhhh.....nothing dude. Just that I have to go back to New Jersey tomorrow. Summer's over is all."
Adam and I both waited with bated breath, nervously inspecting Ian's face for clues as to his level of presence in this conversation. His poker face remained stoic, yet suspicious, the only piece relaying any of the desired context is the additional couple of seconds that it took for him to respond.
"Totally. But we deal with this every year, don't we Adam?" He patted Adam on the shoulder. "But let's forget about that for tonight. Sit down motherfuckers, time to start getting fucked up, I'm making drinks!"
"Oh shit!" Adam responded as he walked towards the couch to assume his position, adding with a chuckle: "When Ian starts making drinks our nights start to get fuzzy."
We fired up the PlayStation while Ian got to work. Within a couple of minutes, he had joined us with three large tumblers, the shitty plastic cups that once had cartoon characters vividly portrayed on their sides, faded now by the sands of time. A quick inspection of their contents revealed some kind of vodka and Coke concoction. I began sipping without hesitation, wincing more than usual as the stiffness of the drink caught me off guard.
"And for the second course," Ian said cheekily as he flipped open a pack of what was once cigarettes, "locally sourced from Mexico, a selection of delicate summer greens in a sticky sauce."
Adam laughed and I felt obligated to at least emit a chuckle. I don't remember ever seeing Ian this corny or performative.
"One for you." Ian handed Adam the first joint, following up quickly with a lighter. "One for me and oooooooooone for the faggot." He glared at me and he handed me my joint, holding on to it hard enough to force me to struggle to grab it. I couldn't help but glare back, unsure if it was a sign of what was to come. Part of me was hoping we were past all the "faggot" stuff.
"Just fucking around dude, this is some good shit too," he said with a smirk. "You're gonna love this."
We hit it hard. Sucking down the cocktails and puffing away at our respective joints, with Ian continuing to bring refills as needed. He seemed a bit manic honestly, checking his watch frequently, lost in his phone one minute only to interject loudly over our gaming the next. He volunteered his recollection of the Cancun trip, one that was heavy on the food and activities but suspiciously devoid of any mention of Gabriella. I would occasionally look over at Adam who would catch my eyes with a look of sheer annoyance. I was worried he was about to blow his top when a muffled buzz came from the basement.
"Hell yeah! Clothes are done." Ian said with a sense of accomplishment. "Gonna go throw them in the dryer."
I looked over of Adam as Ian walked down the stairs, my growing buzz lowering my inhibitions.
"Can you believe this guy?," I asked Adam.
"Don't worry about it man," he replied. "It just makes me sad. Having to think about that fucked up trip right before going back to my shitty life in Jersey."
"Oh, I can't imagine your life back home is all that bad. The end of summer was always a bummer for me. Just wait until you grow up and you have to work year-round. You don't realize how good you've got it."
Adam chuckled. "Yeah, man I guess you're right." I guess some deep-seated paternal instinct to offer advice was kicking in.
"Just try to put things in perspective, Adam. You're young. You've got your whole life ahead of you. You're smart. Obviously fucking top-tier with computers. And....you're attractive, dude. You're gonna be swimming in cock....or uh....pussy. Whatever it is you want."
"You think so?"
"For real, man, you've got a lot of good things going for you. And maybe..." I paused, knowing what I wanted to say next but unsure if it was the right time to say it. The liquor flowing through my veins was enough to push me over the edge.
"Maybe if these summers with Ian stress you out so much.....maybe you don't need to be hanging out with him as much anymore," I said, looking anxiously over to judge his expression.
"I get it, man, but I've known Ian since I was a baby. Each other is all we've ever known. He's family."
"Look, Adam. You're gonna have to trust me on this, but friends grow apart. I haven't talked to my best friend growing up since college. You two are very different people. You are going to meet so many new friends. Friends who value you. Friends who make you happy. You're gonna forget about Ian. It sounds shitty to say, but you will. That's life."
We both sat in silence as my little speech was being processed. As much as my advice was genuine, the result of sincerity only achievable by me with a few cocktails in my system, I couldn't help but realize how horny I was getting thinking about being the catalyst that broke Ian and Adam up. It wasn't exactly what either of them bargained for when this all started, was it?
"Chris. I need to tell you something." His sudden earnestness caught me off guard. I was all ears, hoping we were on the urge of a breakthrough.
"We haven't been exactly honest with you."
I was caught flat-footed. That certainly wasn't where I was expecting him to go.
"Uhhh....what do you mean, dude?"
"This summer homework deal. The arrangement or whatever. It's not what you thi"...
"YOOOOOOOO, CHRIS!"
A moment of divine intervention. As always, Ian's timing was impeccable.
"Chris, dude. I can't figure out the dryer man. Been playing with it for fucking five minutes. Can you help me out?"
I always thought my clothes dryer was pretty straightforward but I forget that kids this age aren't exactly professionals when it comes to home appliances. This was a rare area where I could be of service.
"Uh..." I looked back over at Adam, desperate to understand what he was about to say next, but now was not the time to pursue it with Chris back in the room.
"Yeah, man I got you. Let's check it out."
I followed him down, the drugs making their presence known as I utilized motor skills for the first time since beginning to imbibe. He walked me over to the makeshift laundry area, my head suddenly felt light. The booze and weed feeling I had become accustomed to over the last few weeks. But this was different. I felt....weird.
"So what are you shitheads talking about up there?"
"Upstairs?" I've been down here enough times to know sound carries from the upstairs quite easily. I became nervous thinking about what Ian might have heard.
"Nothing, man. Adam's just fr-freaking out about the end of sssummer. He really likes it hurrr..." I couldn't stop my mouth from slurring that last word.
Ian laughed. "Listen to you, man. Are you okay?"
"I dunno, mannnn. I..don't feeeel go..." I dropped down to a knee suddenly, instinctively looking to brace myself to the nearest wall.
"Whoa buddy," Ian said as he caught my outstretched arm. He grabbed a nearby chair, a dinky little metal folding deal I keep downstairs because I like to read sometimes when the dryer is on.
"Sit down, man. Close your eyes. Just chill out for a second."
I complied without objection. Thankful Ian was here in this moment to protect me.
And then.....
CLICK
My eyes opened wider as I began processing what was happening. The click was met with the cold feeling of metal on my left wrist, which by this point was dangling loose at my side.
"Heeeey, what is thisssss, man." I did my best to be coherent under the circumstances.
"Don't worry about it, dude. Just relax."
But I couldn't relax as Ian began having his way with me. Pulling my right arm back and behind the chair.
CLICK
Both my wrists were constricted. I couldn't tell if my lack of ability to move my arms was this sudden ailment or something....else.
CLICK CLICK
I looked behind me. A giant pit formed in my stomach. I could spot a handcuff, now attached to the small water pipe along my wall that feeds my washer. From it a chain, weirdly long for handcuffs, at least the ones I've seen on TV, extending down and towards where my hands were. Adrenaline began gushing through my veins, providing me with a burst of lucidity.
"Ian, whaaaaat the FUUUUUCK man!"
"Sorry, dude. This is the way it's gotta be. We're throwing the biggest party of the year. Can't have someone ancient walking around killing the vibe. Plus..." He paused before saying with a smirk. "This is kind of fun."
"Jesusss, Ian. I could have just stayed in my room."
"Naw, man. I'll be needing that."
"Well I could have gotten a hotel room or ssssomething. This is fucking crazy. This is...kidnapp..."
"Shut the fuck up and listen, faggot. These handcuffs are strong as fuck. You're gonna tear that pipe off the wall before you break the chain. I'm guessing you don't want your precious house flooded. Also if you fight this and tip your chair over it's gonna be a lot less comfortable on the floor, so my advice to you is just sit fucking still."
I was struggling to take everything in.
"The sedatives will wear off in a few hours. You'll be thirsty, but you'll be fine. There's nothing wrong with you. We'll come get you when the party's over. You better hope we don't go super late." Ian chuckled.
He took one step towards the door before abruptly turning back around.
"Oh shit, almost forgot." He approached me swiftly. "Close your mouth."
He grabbed my hair with one hand and pushed back. I heard the distinct scratch of duct tape being pulled off the roll and before long felt my mouth smothered by something sticky and strong. Ian took a step back, admiring his handy work. I tried to speak in protest but it just came out muffled.
"Just in case you get any wild ideas. Nothing kills a party faster than someone screaming in the basement."
"Don't worry man." He continued. "The night will be over before you know it. Maybe try to get some sleep."
He flicked off the room's one dim light that had been illuminating the white concrete block walls, plunging me into darkness before bounding up the stairs. All I could think about was Adam.