Page 27 of Half Notes and Highlights
“I have no idea what’s going on,” Marshall stated. “And I don’t want to know. This is between you two. Or three.”
“I know what’s going on,” Harris offered.
“What?”
Harris leaned forward and lowered his voice. “He’s jealous.”
“That’s crazy,” Ethan replied. “He was with two different guys this weekend. I’m with other guys all the time. He doesn’t care. That’s not our dynamic. We’re not boyfriends. We’re best friends.”
“With benefits,” Harris added.
“Yeah. Sometimes. But that’s it. That’s all we’ve ever been.”
Harris shrugged. “Maybe he’s threatened by Tyler.”
It didn’t make sense. They talked about everything, including other guys. Including Tyler. Wolf never had animosity toward Tyler until they met. Maybe he really just didn’t like him. But how could anyone not love Tyler?
Ethan stared at the closed door that separated the sleeping quarters from the rest of the bus and thought about his friend on the other side, sitting in his bunk and probably feeling all alone. Guilt made Ethan’s heart sink. Wolf was a sensitive guy, and the idea of his friend sulking in the back of the bus by himself hurt Ethan’s heart.
He took another beer from the fridge, walked through the door to the sleeping quarters, and found Wolf lying in his bunk wearing his AirPods. Ethan offered the beer to his friend, who pulled out his AirPods and took the beer, and they sat quietly next to one another for a long time without saying anything. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence because good friends didn’t always have to make small talk. But there were things that needed to be discussed. While Ethan tried to figure out how to ask Wolf what was really going on, Wolf spoke up.
“Remember when I first came to live with you and your parents?”
The topic took Ethan by surprise. They hadn’t talked about that day since it happened, because there really wasn’t a need to rehash the drama. It was just part of their past and how they ended up growing up in the same house. But he remembered every detail of the incident well. How could he ever forget?
15 years old
The incessant ringing of the doorbell interrupted Ethan’s video game. It was frantic, without rest, ring after ring, and then knocking accompanied it. Ethan’s mom walked briskly into the living room, wiping her hands on a dishtowel, at the same time Ethan’s dad stood up from his recliner. They both stopped and looked at each other, then Ethan watched them walk toward the front door.
His mom moved the curtain and peeked through the window. “It’s Wolf. Something’s wrong.” She quickly opened the door while Ethan ran to meet his friend.
Wolf took a few steps into the house and just stood there sobbing with his arms at his sides and his shoulders bobbing. It scared the hell out of Ethan, but he didn’t know what to do, so he looked at his parents.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Ethan’s mom asked, placing her arm around Wolf’s shoulder. “Did something happen to your parents?”
Wolf tried to answer but he was sobbing too hard to get the words out.
“Calm down,” Ethan’s father said. “Take a few deep breaths and tell us what happened.”
When Wolf still didn’t answer, Ethan’s mom said, “I’m calling Rachel.”
“No!” Wolf finally spoke, his eyes widening to show the red squiggly lines and puffy lids.
Ethan took a few steps closer to his friend. “What happened?”
Wolf pressed his lips together and started shaking his head. “They saw me.” It was all he could say before he started crying again.
His parents looked confused, but Ethan knew exactly what Wolf was referring to. Wolf had a boyfriend. Ethan was the only one Wolf trusted with his secret and said that his parents would lose their shit if they found out. Apparently, they found out.
“Who saw you?” Ethan’s Mom asked.
“My m’mom and dad.”
She rubbed Wolf’s back soothingly. “I don’t understand. What did your parents see? Are you in some kind of trouble?”
Wolf’s face was beet red. His gaze shifted to Ethan, and there was so much pleading in Wolf’s eyes that it made Ethan want to cry.
“Let’s go to my room,” Ethan said, offering his hand to his best friend.
