Page 49 of My Best Friend's Bully

“Oh, no. That’s in the other room,” he chuckles. “This room is where I hang out and relax. Watch a movie. Read a book. Listen to music. When I can find the time.”

“What? Those things?” I point to the stack of ancient relics on the credenza to my right. “Nobody uses those anymore. I don’t think I’ve ever even heard one.”

Tyson’s boisterous laughter fills the room. “Oh Jordan, you’re so sweet.” He pushes a strand of hair back from my face as he bends to kiss me. “Nothing compares to the sound of vinyl. I’ll let you hear for yourself. Later, after dinner.”

As he tries to pull away, my breaths are heavy and I reach down to hook a finger around his belt loop, pulling him back.

“I’ll give you the rest of the tour after dinner.” He kisses me again and pulls away, lingering long enough to make me want more.

“Promise?” I ask, with heavy breaths.

“I promise. I’ll show you everything.”

He takes my hand and leads me past the large sitting area toward an arched opening near the corner of the far wall. He leads me through the arch into another, smaller sitting area with a large sweeping curved staircase. The sitting area is filled with the same scrumptious aromas that first captured me when I stepped into his apartment, and my mouth begins to water.

“Dinner time,” Tyson chirps, taking my hand and leading me down the stairway.

The sweeping spiral staircase spills us out into the small breakfast room in the back corner of the kitchen. The light oak table in the breakfast room is surrounded by five upholstered wooden chairs, and a wall at the far end of the table is filled with a large single pane bay window, overlooking the glimmering lights of the cityscape.

“It smells amazing,” I say, as he pulls out a chair for me at the small table and pours wine into my glass. “What is it?”

“Macaroni and cheese” His voice carries from the other room as he bends to pull the dish from the oven. It sizzles and the savory aroma of melting cheese and herbs fills the room.

“Oh, Tyson, think of the carbs! And the fat!” I tease as he sets a heaping bowl of steaming cheesy deliciousness on the table in front of me.

“I was thinking ofyou, Jordan.“ He sits in the chair next to me, setting down another sizeable bowl in front of him. “Life is about balance.”

I take a bite and respond with an ecstatic moan of pleasure. “This is amazing. Cole would—“ I stop myself.

“It’s okay,” Tyson says when I cut myself off. “You can talk about him. How did it go, your meeting with him?”

I hesitate. Should I tell him everything? “It went better than I expected, but he said some things that kind of surprised me.”

A muscle twitches in Tyson’s jaw. “What did he say?”

“Well, that you’re kind of a dick. And an asshole. I think those were the words he used.” I stare into Tyson’s eyes as I slip one tine of my fork into one of the thick tubes of pasta and slide the tube into my mouth, savoring the warm, sweet liquid that oozes out as I nibble gently on the end of it. I take my time with the pasta tube before setting my fork down and lifting my wine glass for a sip.

Tyson stares down at his bowl. “And do you think he’s right?”

“No!” I blurt out. “I mean, I did at first, yeah. You did come off kind of… like an asshole. When I first met you at the hospital, I couldn’t believe how mean you were with Cole. I still don’t understand it. I know that’s not how you really are, so why do you act that way?”

Tyson runs his hands through his hair until it’s sticking up. “I don’t want this to sound like a sob story, but it wasn’t easy growing up as Cole’s twin. He was the golden child. The kid who could do no wrong. Sounds great, right? Except all he ever did was rub his successes in my face.” Tyson’s voice is thick with emotion. I reach over and put my hand on his back, rubbing gently up and down his spine. “And my Dad just piled it on. Whatever I did, it was never good enough. And they made sure to let me know it. If it wasn’t enough for Cole to bring home another one of his dozen trophies and throw it on my bed and gloat, my dad would ask me why I couldn’t win any. When I told Dad I wanted to start my own business someday, he laughed at me and asked me ‘why can’t you do something normal, like become a lawyer? Or a doctor? Your brother Cole has it right. He’s going to become a doctor.’ It was like I was living with two bullies. All I ever wanted was to get out of there.”

It’s so hard to imagine Cole as a bully, but my feelings don’t matter right now. This is Tyson’s time.

“That sounds awful, Tyson, I’m so sorry. Did things get better when you moved out?”

He nods. “They did. I cut contact with Cole and my Dad and only stayed in touch with Mom. It was the happiest I’d ever felt, but obviously, it couldn’t last forever. When my Dad got hurt, I had to come back to be here for Mom, and that meant having to face Cole and my Dad again.”

“And you still think of Cole as your bully?” I don’t see it, but I can tell in his eyes that Tyson feels it.

“When you’re told over and over for years how much of a failure you are, it’s hard to believe anything else. Yeah, that stuff still lingers.”

He breathes out a long sigh and turns to face me, touching my cheek with the palm of his hand.

“And then I met you. I was such an idiot at first. I didn’t see who you really are. Iwasa real jerk. Can you forgive me, Jordan?“ He leans in, waiting for my response.

“I already have, Tyson.” I kiss him, and he pulls me toward him, sliding me onto his lap. “I really think you need to talk to him. Just sit down and hash it all out. Neither of you are bullies. Maybe hewas then, but he was young. He only ever says nice things about you.”

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