Chapter Seven: Friction

Alex~

Sunday slips by like fog. Thick, heavy, slow.

I barely move from bed, pretending the ache in my chest is fatigue and not the hangover of something much messier. I scroll through my phone without really seeing anything, just letting the light burn into my eyes, hoping it'll numb everything else.

Seth doesn't bother me. I hear him in the kitchen once then silence.

When Monday rolls around, I drag myself out of bed looking like I've just clawed through cement. I don't even bother shaving after I take a bath. My shirt's wrinkled and I smell like I only showered for the performance of it. Tracey sends a "see you today?" text with a heart at the end, and I just reply, Yeah.

In the media lab, Jordan's already waiting. He's hunched over his laptop, earbuds in, mouthing lyrics to whatever pop anthem is feeding his soul this morning. He looks up as I approach and offers a lazy smile.

"Hey stranger," he says, removing one bud. "You alive?"

"Barely."

"I figured. You ran out of that bar like it was on fire."

I flinch before I can stop myself Jordan raises a brow at my actions.

Jordan doesn't push, but curiously he watches me.

We get to work almost immediately. We're building a presentation about the performative nature of masculinity in modern media the irony so thick I could choke on it. I mostly let Jordan talk and nod along, giving generic input. He doesn't seem to mind. Occasionally, he bumps my shoulder or tosses a joke my way, and I try to respond like a normal person. Like someone who didn't just spend the weekend unraveling.

Then Seth walks in.

He has no business being here, but he wanders in like he owns the place, hands in his hoodie pockets, hair still damp from probably a shower and my throat goes tight.

"Yo," he says to me, and then, as if he just noticed, "Jordan, right?"

Jordan beams. "The one and only."

Seth leans against the wall beside our desk, just a little too close, all casual swagger and unreadable eyes. He doesn't say much, but every time Jordan laughs at something I say or brushes my arm while pointing at the screen, I feel Seth stiffen.

Jordan either doesn't notice or pretends not to. He's in one of his flirty, open and vibrant moods. Every time he leans closer to explain a point, Seth's expression darkens just a fraction. His jaw tightens, but he doesn't say anything.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat, feeling like I'm sitting between two currents.

"I'm starving," Jordan says eventually. "We should get lunch after this."

He's looking at me when he says it, but before I can respond, Seth cuts in.

"We were gonna hit the cafeteria, actually."

My head snaps to him. We?

Jordan blinks, surprised. "Oh. Didn't mean to interrupt."

"You didn't," Seth says smoothly, still looking at me. "Right, Alex?"

I stare at him. The way he says it like I'm his and he is only trying to reminder me has the corner of my lips struggling to lift. I force myself to remember Tracey and all she stands for to me.

"Yeah," I say, slowly. "We were gonna… eat."

Jordan catches on being so good at reading rooms. "Rain check then." He smiles, but I can't tell there's more to it than happiness. "Just don't choke on your toast, boys." My breathing chooses that moment to destabilize and I find myself actually choking.

He gathers his things and leaves Seth and I watch him go.

"And what in the bloody hell was that?" I ask once Jordan's out of earshot.

"What?"

"You basically told him to back off."

Seth shrugs. "He's all over you."

"So?" I snap. "That's not your business."

Seth leans in, lowering his voice. "Isn't it?"

I flinch. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"I was just trying to save you from yourself. You said you had a girlfriend and you're with one of the most charming gays I've ever seen."

The tone of his voice was undeniably filled with jealousy and for some reason, I preened internally.

"Don't worry about Jordan, he knows where I stand."

**

I don't just see Tracey until later that evening. She shows up at the apartment unannounced, knocking once before letting herself in. She's holding a plastic bag from the Thai place I like or used to like, before food started tasting like paper.

"Thought I'd surprise you," she says with a tentative smile. "You've been… kinda hard to pin down."

I kiss her on the cheek, awkwardly. "Sorry. Just been busy."

She glances around the kitchen, then into the hallway. "Seth not home?"

"Practice," I lie. I have no idea where he is.

We settle to eat at the dinning table. We settle into an easy conversation where I ask her about her weekend and steer the conversation to her internship drama, but she circles back to me like she always does.

"You've been different," she says, not accusing just observing.

I force a laugh. "You mean sexy and mysterious?"

She doesn't smile.

"Alex."

"I'm fine."

"You're not."

"Look, I know things have been weird since the party. And I probably overreacted a little, but—"

"You didn't," I say quickly. She actually reacted right and it made me feel like I had something wrong with me.

My agreement surprises her. She blinks, caught off guard.

"I've just had a lot on my mind," I add, quieter.

"Is it… us?"

I hesitate. There's nothing wrong with us, I like to think.

Tracey leans forward. "You can tell me if something's wrong. I don't want to be one of those girls who can't take a hint, but I also don't want to just disappear if there's something to fix."

I reach for her hand. "It's not you. I promise."

She searches my face like she's trying to find whatever it is I'm not saying.

"I saw your friend Jordan earlier," she says after a beat. "At the bookstore. He said you've been hanging out a lot."

I stiffen.

"Not like that," she adds quickly. "He just mentioned the project."

I relax slightly, but she notices even that.

"You get weird whenever I bring up anyone who's not me," she says softly. "Especially if they're…"

She trails off.

I don't finish the sentence for her.

After she leaves, I collapse on the couch and stare at the ceiling. My chest feels tight, like something's clawing at the inside of my ribs.

Seth comes home eventually smelling like cold air and sweat. Doesn't look at me when he walks past to drop his bag.

"You good?" I ask before I can stop myself.

He pauses. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

I don't respond.

He sighs and heads to the bathroom. I hear the water run. I sit on the couch, unmoving.

When he returns, he leans on the back of the couch, towel slung around his shoulders. His hair's wet again, curling slightly at the edges.

"I'm not trying to ruin your relationship," he says, out of nowhere.

"I didn't say you were."

"You don't have to. You look at me like I'm a fucking problem."

I turn to him. "Maybe you are."

Seth laughs. Bitter and low. "At least I know what I am."

That lands like a slap.

He backs off before I can respond. Heads to the room. Shuts the door softly behind him.

**

At night, I lie awake staring at the ceiling.

I can't stop thinking about the way Seth stepped in between me and Jordan. The way Tracey looked at me like I was slipping through her fingers. The way I feel like I'm walking on a wire strung between two versions of myself one I built, one I'm terrified of.

Seth's breathing evens out across the room.

Mine doesn't.

I don't know what I want.

But I know I can't keep at this for any much longer.