I pull up my text thread and notice a message from a few weeks ago from Elijah, Pax’s boyfriend. I don’t know him all that well, but I type out a text anyway.
Bishop: Any possibility you’re free to grab lunch?
Little dots pop up showing that he’s typing a response. After a few seconds, they disappear and then appear again. I chuckle to myself, wondering what could possibly be taking him so long to type.
Elijah: Um...I think you have the wrong number. This is Elijah.
My heart aches for him. It’s easy to see why he so easily pinned down the man none of us thought would ever settle down. There’s something so damned endearing about him, it’s irresistible.
Bishop: I know. I wanted to have lunch with you.
Elijah: Oh
Elijah: In that case, I have a break between classes for the next two hours.
Bishop: Great. Meet at Joe’s Pizza, down the street from campus?
Elijah: Sounds good!
By the time I get to the pizza place, Elijah is already waiting, seated at a table in the window. He smiles and waves when he spots me, his curly hair flopping over his forehead.
“Hey, I’m glad you could meet me.”
“Thanks for inviting me. Sorry I thought it was a wrong number,” he apologizes, nibbling his bottom lip as his cheeks pink.
“It was an honest mistake. I know we haven’t hung out just the two of us before, but you and Pax are living together now, so it’s obviously serious, and I want to get to know you better.”
“I’d like that,” he agrees.
“Also, I totally need a sympathetic ear so I’m hoping you don’t mind if I word vomit all over you.”
He looks startled for a moment. “I mean, I’m not super good at giving advice, unless it’s about math or science, but um...you can totally talk, and I can listen. I’m pretty good at listening.”
The waiter stops by our table, and we both order. Then I take a deep breath and unload on Elijah about everything up to the kiss this morning.
He blinks at me in shock, seeming not to know what to say for several minutes after I finish talking. “So, wait, you like Leo, right? You like all three of them?”
“I like all three of them,” I say with a sigh.
“Wow, that’s a lot. I can hardly handle one relationship, but if it works for you, then that’s great.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Not sure how well it’s working, but I don’t have much choice about how I feel anyway.”
“Right.” He nods in understanding. “So, wait, why is it bad that Leo kissed you? Was it a bad kiss?”
“Because he wasn’t really kissing me.”
“He wasn’t? Now I’m really confused,” Elijah admits.
“He was trying to prove a point or get at Hudson. Those two were always so competitive, and half the time I was stuck in the middle. He saw that Hudson had me, and he felt like he had to make a move so Hudson wouldn’t win.”
“Are you sure that’s all it was? Maybe he really likes you,” he suggests hopefully.
“He’s never looked twice at me, and then the same morning he realizes I’ve hooked up with Hudson, now he wants me? It’s too much of a coincidence.” As much as I wish it was real, I can’t believe it.
Our pizza comes, and we turn the conversation to different topics. Elijah tells me about his studies and about getting his things moved into Pax’s apartment.
“We were thinking of having a housewarming party one of these weekends. Well, Pax was thinking that, and I didn’t fight him too hard about it.”
“That sounds like fun. Hope you guys don’t mind if I have a plus three,” I joke.
“I don’t care how many people you bring, and I’m sure Pax doesn’t either,” he assures me. “I think we’ll probably do it after Theo moves here in a few weeks so everyone can get to know him better too.”
“Just tell me when and I’ll be there. I know Seph will be too, if I know her love for dinner parties.”
“She does love dinner parties,” Elijah agrees with a chuckle.
We finish eating, and I offer him a ride back to campus. “Thanks again for having lunch with me. This was fun.”
“Let’s do it again sometime,” he says before getting out of the car.
Hudson
My fingers itch to reach for my phone so I can text Bishop and beg him to come over tonight. I swear I can still feel his warm skin against mine even hours after we cuddled this morning.
My computer pings with an incoming email, and I sigh, leaning back in my chair and clicking the icon to open it. I scan the email without enthusiasm and type back a quick response, wondering for what has to be the millionth time what I’m doing here.
I hit send and look up at my bland office—white walls, my diploma hanging on the far wall, a generic plant in the corner that my dad told my secretary to pick out. Not that I’ll be stuck in this boring office forever. Oh no, I’m headed straight for the corner office on the top floor, the CEO’s office. Goodie.
I tilt my head back and look up at the ceiling, pinching the bridge of my nose. I wonder what it’s like for people who chose their own path in life. Is it scary or exhilarating to decide what you want to do all on your own and then find a way to make it happen? Probably a little bit of both.
I’m sure there’s a noble cause somewhere in the business of financial planning; it just happens to also be boring as hell. It made my grandparents rich, so I guess there’s that. But sometimes I imagine what my life would’ve been like if I’d grown up lower-middle class like Bishop. Or even poor like Leo.
Not that my childhood was bad, it just came with a lot of expectations. You’re a Bellows, my father used to say. God, I fucking hated it when he said that.
The intercom on my desk buzzes.
“Mr. Bellows, you have a meeting scheduled with Mr. Bellows in five minutes.”
“I told you to call me Hudson,” I answer, sitting up and straightening my tie. “I’m on my way up, thanks for the reminder.”
Out of habit, and maybe a little bit of hope, I pull out my phone and send a quick text to Bishop.
Hudson: Meeting with my father. Send coffee.
Bishop: You could always pull the fire alarm.
I chuckle at the reply, shaking my head as I type back, at the same time standing up from my desk and heading out of my office.
Hudson: I did that ONCE.
Bishop: Most of us never pull a fire alarm to get out of a work meeting.
Hudson: Most people don’t have to work somewhere SO boring.
Bishop: lol. Suck it up, buttercup.
I get on the elevator, and my thumb twitches over the screen of my phone. I’m sorely tempted to suggest Bishop come by my place tonight. Nothing makes me feel better after a mind-numbing day at Bellows Financial than having my best friend naked in my bed. But I’m afraid to push my luck. This text exchange feels so normal I don’t want to rock the boat or make things weird. So, instead of flirting or outright begging, I shove my phone back into my pocket, square my shoulders, and put Bishop out of my mind while I face the rest of my workday like an adult.