Page 55 of Advanced Chemistry

I examined the tube once more. “Thanks, Chase.”

“Great.” He turned to leave, but did a kind of dance move, pivoting back and forth on his heel before spinning back around.

“Sebastian, I didn’t come here to bring you toothpaste. That was a Trojan Horse to something else I wanted to discuss.”

“I figured.”

“Would you mind if I joined you?” He slid onto the empty picnic bench across from me. His crystal blue eyes were opened super wide, and I got lost in their ocean pull for a moment.

“I feel like social protocol requires that I apologize, but to be perfectly honest, I’m not entirely sure what I’m apologizing for. I can see that I’m causing tension within your relationship with Anton, and that’s the last thing I want to do. I am the element bringing instability to your dynamic. Yet it seems like we all get along when we’re in the thick of…it. But once it’s over, you get tense again. I’m honestly a little confused.”

There wasn’t much to be confused about. I was hopelessly in love with my best friend who only wanted to kiss me when there was a third guy bouncing between us. And I wanted to like that third guy, but it hurt my heart to stand by and watch him get dicked by the man of my dreams.

“We’re good, Chase.” It wasn’t fair to drag him into my perpetual heartache.

“Are you sure? Because as I just finished explaining, it doesn’t seem that way. Would you like to discuss anything? My door is always open.”

“You used to say that in class.”

“I still do. None of my students ever take me up on it. But contrary to the whispers in the halls, I can be a good listener.”

I was tempted to take the bait. “I have some shit I need to work out with Anton. This is new for us…”

“Of course. You’re friends and business partners and suddenly you’re involved sexually. It’s a lot to process.”

“Exactly. I just want to make sure the business doesn’t suffer,” I said, thankful Chase gave me an easy out. Blame it all on the business. I held up the toothpaste one last time. “Are you sure you don’t want this?”

“To be brutally honest, I don’t use Colgate. Only Crest.”

“Fair enough.”

“You and Anton should think about switching. It’s the superior brand, per all available data.”

I smiled to myself. Was it strange that I found his weirdness cute? I knew there was a wild, horny guy lurking under the quirky demeanor.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I opened my backpack to toss the toothpaste in.

“Is that Elmo?” Chase pointed at the card, which had slipped out. I turned as red as theSesame Streetmainstay, like some secret had been exposed.

“Is that for a nephew?”

“Uh, no,” I said, fumbling for an answer.

“The envelope’s been opened, which means…someone bought you an Elmo card? As a joke, right?” Chase asked.

If fucking only. A purposeful joke would’ve been less cruel.

“My dad sent it. It’s a birthday card.”

“Oh. Happy birthday.”

“My birthday was seven months ago.” I flicked the card into the backpack and zipped it shut. “And I’m about twelve years too old for Elmo shit. Elmo’s the last thing he remembers about me from before he left.”

We shared a look, remembering the sad truth we had in common and how it would forever mark us.

“My sob story isn’t as bad as yours. He didn’t leave us for another family. He wanted to be an actor and live out his dreams in California. My mom and I were holding him back.” I rolled my eyes. I used to think maturity came with age. Dad proved me wrong.

The unique sense of anger mixed with hurt that came with abandonment churned in my gut. It was a constant back-and-forth of wanting to lash out for what he did and wanting to cry because no matter what any parent, relative, or therapist told you, you always felt it was because of you. The pain never left. No scar tissue was strong enough to let that part of us heal.

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