Rumor Has It (Longwood U)

Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

DAK

I stare up at the bottom of Ezlo’s bunk chewing on my lip. There are a lot of things I should be doing, like getting ready for finals in a couple weeks. Or maybe making a plan for this summer. Am I just going home? Where does Sparrow live? Is this over once the school year is?

We’re in different places academically and I suppose professionally. I still have another year left, but Sparrow graduates this year. Hell, so does Ezlo. Ugh! That means I’m going to have to room with other people.

Ew. No thanks.

Maybe I’ll see what the waiting list looks like for the student apartments that Sparrow is currently living in. I should do that now. Who knows how long I may have to wait? Fuck, I hope not long!

But my real anxiety isn’t from housing. I’ll deal with it, whatever the outcome is. In reality, I could just get an apartment or studio in town if I don’t like the housing options on campus. I know my parents would help me with that.

What I can’t stop thinking about now that the school year is coming to an end is what’s going to happen with me and Sparrow. The way my chest hurts thinking he’s going to pack up and walk away because this part of his life is over has me feeling nauseous whenever I think about it. Which, lately, is almost every time I’m alone .

Yet, it’s not as if we’re truly seeing each other. Our agreement was fucking exclusively. And yes, that I need to tell him when I’m feeling jealous or whatever. I get that. But does it really equate to a relationship?

The countdown until he graduates ticks loudly in my ear. I need to say something. That’s what he wants me to do as well. But…

Who knew I had such big insecurities? Fuck’s sake.

My phone rings and I roll to reach for it. It’s plugged in, so I have to shift to be able to grab it, tap the answer call and stick it on speaker phone since this stupid charging cord is only like three fucking feet long.

“Hey, Edin,” I say and pause when I don’t hear any background noise. “Everything good?”

He huffs quietly. “Yes. Morgan’s napping. And bitch wife is at work.”

That’s one of the kinder monikers he’s given her. “Glad she’s working.”

“This week. Who knows how long that’s going to last.”

I sigh. “Is it harassing if I remind you again that I’d love for you to come visit me?”

He laughs quietly. “No. But your year is almost over, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but I don’t care. I’d still love for you to come out here.”

“How about we talk about getting together this summer. You coming home?”

My thoughts drift back to Sparrow. “I don’t know.”

“No? What’s your plan?”

“I don’t have a plan.”

There’s a moment of pause. “I’m going to need some reasonable explanation, Dak.”

“Okay, look. I’m seeing someone and… we haven’t really talked about what happens after the year ends. So… there’s a chance I’m coming home but there’s a chance that I’m not.”

“Is it serious?”

My heart thuds in my chest. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know a lot,” he teases, amused.

“It started as casual fucking?—”

“Please tell me you’re being careful. Do not make my mistake.”

“No one is getting pregnant. Promise,” I say, but I hate the way my gut twists because I know how much he regrets meeting Lydia. He regrets a lot. Even with as much as he loves his daughter, I know if he could make the decision again, he’d be a damn monk instead of his life turning out the way it is now.

“Good,” Edin says. “Then… it’s not casual anymore? You in love with her?”

I sigh. “I don’t know.” I’m quite confident that every little sweet thing this man does for me makes me fall for him. But am I even ready for that? Fuck, is Sparrow? I have no idea what his life’s ambitions are. There’s a chance he’s only interested in a college romance and will walk away from this when given the opportunity. “We haven’t talked about it. But I have a month so there’s a chance I’ll grow some balls and say something. I mean, we have to talk about it at some point, right?”

“Or you can watch her drive away and always wonder.”

I scowl. Not only because he keeps saying ‘her’ but because I’ve already imagined that happening. One of those things I can fix right now, though bringing myself to tell Edin that I’m fucking a dude? Not sure I’m ready for that line of questioning.

“But you know what? You want to do something this summer and we’re going to do it. How about we’ll get a cabin on the lake somewhere? The two of us and Morgan.”

“What about your girl? You going to give me a name, or am I just going to be referring to her as her pronouns?”

“Sparrow,” I tell him, “and… I don’t know. We just got through the fact that I’m a chicken shit at talking about the future.”

“It would probably be less daunting if you knew what you wanted,” Edin says. “What do you want to happen between you two?”

“What do you want to happen in your life?” I counter. “Honestly. If you could change your circumstances now, what would you do? I’m not talking about going back in time and changing a bad decision. I’m talking realistically.”

Edin sighs. It’s deep and tired. Resentful. Resigned. Deeply depressed. I can hear it all in that one exhale. “Leave,” he admits quietly. “Take my daughter and leave. But I can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Lydia isn’t going to give up Mo without a fight. She’s borderline a shitty parent, but we all know the system isn’t about what’s best for the child. If the bio mother is alive and mentally stable, then it’s her rights that matter. Some idiot has decided that mother is always best.”

“I can throw money at that,” I offer. Not that I have money, but I know if I plead the case to my parents, they will step in to help Edin. They’d help him now if they could.

He huffs. “No, Dak.”

“Okay, let’s say that the system isn’t broken, and you’re granted custody of Morgan without Lydia involved at all. What then? What would you do? Where would you go?”

“I don’t know. I know that’s not ever going to be my reality, so I haven’t spent a lot of time daydreaming about it. Not once I realized it’s never going to happen.”

“Play the game with me. What. Would. You. Do?”

“Take her far away from here. From these shitty people who put us in this shitty situation. I want a nice house for her with a big backyard and neighborhood kids to play with. Obviously, a top-notch school district, though I have no idea what that looks like or how to even figure out if a place is top-notch. I’d love it to be just me and Mo for a while. Try to erase all the damage Lydia’s screaming and breaking shit are no doubt causing her. Just… start over. Erase this part of our lives.”

“Your parents would lose their minds if you took Mo.”

“My parents haven’t seen her in three years,” he counters bitterly. “My animosity toward them is far too great.”

“I didn’t realize that.”

He hums. “Yep. It was an easy trade off—getting them out of my life so I never have to look at them again, even though I lost their help with Mo. Financially and as adults to help watch her. The absence of them has made it more difficult, but I don’t care. I’m not saying it’s their fault I knocked up this bitch, but it is their fault that my life sucks. They took hockey from me. They forced me to marry this stupid woman. I won’t forgive them for that shit.”

“I’m glad you did that,” I say. “I don’t forgive them either.”

“Your turn. Tell me what you want to happen this summer with you and Sparrow. ”

“I think you’ve thought about a future far more than I have. I’m planning next week, never mind next month. Finals are looming.”

“You’re not getting out of this. Spill.”

I laugh. “I want to keep seeing Sparrow. That’s the only true answer I have. I don’t know what that looks like—where or how or when—but I don’t want it to end because Sparrow graduates next month.”

“What’s her plan for after graduation? She has a job lined up?”

“No. I mean, I don’t think so. Sparrow’s constantly commenting that they have no idea what they’re going to do with their degree.”

“What kind of degree?”

“Digital media. A digital artist, they’re really good.”

“Hmm,” Edin answers thoughtfully. In the background, I hear a door slam and Edin sighs. “Bitchzilla is home. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay. Think about this summer. More seriously than you thought about coming out this spring.”

He laughs. “Yeah, okay.”

The line goes silent. He almost sounded human again. For just a little while, he sounded like my Edin. The kid I grew up with. Only, with a deeper voice. Now he just sounds… empty.

Can I kidnap him? Is that an option? I should look at my bank account. My parents have always been really generous with me. Not only do I have a college fund, but I also have a bank account where they’ve deposited every monetary gift given to me since I was born. They also deposited money every quarter while I was growing up.

When I quit hockey, they decided to deposit the money they used to spend annually on hockey into my account. They wanted me not to stress about money or make decisions based on how much a job paid or how much a book cost. My fathers wanted me to focus on my passions and work toward a future that I’d be happy in, regardless of the pay my chosen career offered.

Their thought was that if I didn’t have to worry about how little and shitty my starting salary might be, with some supplemental money, I had the freedom to follow my passion in life instead of doing what I was confident would pay my bills from day one.

I know how privileged I am to have that cushion. Especially because I’ve seen the portfolios they’ve set up for me, so money isn’t just sitting in a bank account stale and stagnant. I’ve always tried to be responsible and still make conscientious decisions so I’m not wasting their generosity.

But the thing is, I’m twenty-years-old. I have no idea what I want to do with my life. It’s unfair that I have to have a plan right now and pray to the universe that I’m not going to regret it in ten or twenty years. Or hell, even in one year.

Which is why I ended up on a generic business track. It has a lot of uses without tying me to something specific that I might grow to hate.

There’s still another year left in my program for me to come up with a plan of how to make this degree useful. To date, I’ve only thought of things I don’t want to do for the rest of my life. The problem is, I don’t have any idea what even sounds appealing!

I need to be a house husband.

The idea makes me grin.

The bedroom door opens and Ezlo steps inside. He flashes me a smile as he shuts the door behind him. I watch as he kicks off his shoes and pulls his hoodie over his head before he climbs on the bed beside me.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“Not a damn thing.”

“I thought you were hanging out with Lennox.”

He sighs. “Yeah, I was. We hit the gym for a while. But then he was going out with his stupid girlfriend, so I came back here.”

“Ah.”

“His girlfriend isn’t stupid,” he amends though it sounds a little pouty. “She’s actually very nice. And pretty.”

“You’re a big person, Ezlo,” I say, grinning. “Even through your jealousy.”

He sighs in exasperation. We’re quiet for a while before he rolls onto his side to look at me. I’m always concerned when he has a serious expression. “So… want to talk about this person?”

“What person?” I ask warily while pretending to be oblivious.

“Don’t play dumb. Sparrow.”

“What about him?”

“You want me to pretend I didn’t notice how possessive and jealous you were the other night at the hockey game?” he asks, brow raised. Then a sly smile climbs over his face. “Or that they had their hand down your pants? Or that you disappeared for ten minutes and came back looking well fucked?”

“We didn’t fuck,” I mutter, feeling how hot my face is.

“Right,” he deadpans, clear disbelief all over his face.

“Fine. I met him at Rumor, and we’ve been fooling around since.”

His head cocks to the side at my words. “When did you go to Rumor? I love their damn videos.”

“Fuck’s sake. You didn’t watch any with me, did you?”

Ezlo smirks. “No, but now I’m going to look for them.”

“Please, if you care about me at all, you won’t watch them.”

“I’ve seen your dick, Dak. You have nothing to be shy about.”

“Fucking hell,” I mutter, draping my arm over my face. “Please, Ez. Don’t watch them.”

“I wasn’t going to.” He pokes me in my ribs, making me jerk and glare at him. “Are you enjoying dick?”

“It has its uses,” I mutter, really hating this conversation.

“Are you bottoming or topping?”

“Ezlo,” I half whine.

He drops back onto the bed, staring up at the bottom of his bunk. “I don’t have a preference. Well, I guess that’s not entirely true. I have a preference depending on my partner. Sometimes I want to fuck them; sometimes I want them to fuck me.”

“And if your partner doesn’t have a dick and you want them to fuck you?” I ask.

“Don’t ever open my bottom drawer, Dak, unless you really want that answer.”

I scrunch my face though I see his smile climb.

“I’m a mood fucker, I guess. Depends on the mood I’m in when I meet them. You know? Sometimes I want to be dominated. Sometimes I just want carefree fucking.”

“With condoms, right?”

“Even my strap-ons wear condoms,” he says, matter-of-factly.

I snort. “Seriously?”

“Yes. Saves time on cleanup. It’s also more sanitary.”

“Good to know, I guess.”

“If you haven’t been pegged, you should totally try it. There isn’t a silicone dick that feels like the real thing, but I can give you a brand that comes close.”

“That’s… generous. But why not just have the real thing if that’s an option?”

“As you pointed out, sometimes it’s not and I still want to be fucked. You do what you gotta do.”

“You’re a trip, Ez. You know that?”

He hums. A minute passes before he says, “Sparrow has a nice dick, though. I’ve always thought so. The videos definitely show him in a good light. You’re lucky.”

“Fuck’s sake,” I mutter and drape a hand over my face to obscure my blush. Ezlo doesn’t miss it. He’s grinning like a loon.