Coming to Terms ✔️

10: The Breakdown

Xavier was gone when I woke up.

I guess I fucked up when I touched his face. It wouldn't happen again. That was for certain.

My day was plain. I went to work and then went home. Charlie had gone back home for the work week, so I probably wouldn't see him until next weekend. I was lounging on the couch when my phone chimed next to me.

Xavier (8:46PM)
Wyd

I sat up straight, not replying straight away. Maybe I wouldn't respond at all. I stared at his name in my phone for all but thirty seconds before another text came through.

Xavier (8:47PM)
Wanna work on the project?

No. No, I really didn't. I didn't want to be around him so much. I guess it was a good sign that he still wanted my help after I went all Weird Gay on him and caressed his cheek like someone's wife.

Who was I kidding? He probably wanted to get the project over with just as quickly as I did. So I agreed, inviting him over to film another question and answer segment. He was at my doorstep in ten minutes, his camera equipment in hand and a case of beers. I ushered him in and we went to my room.

He cracked open a beer can and handed me one. "I was thinking we should talk about the science behind different foods and what they're made of. Like what can give you energy or what makes you tired."

It sounded boring. I sipped my beer, thinking about the irony of us drinking something harmful while trying to teach about what's good for you. We set up the spot by the whitest wall with three lamps and my ring light illuminating the corner. I sat down on the chair and pulled out my phone while I waited for him to be ready.

Charlie texted me a meme, making me snort to myself. I texted back a few more times until Xavier cleared his throat.

"Is he your boyfriend?"

I looked up in surprise. "Uh . . ." –Why did I want to lie?– "Yes."

Xavier nodded coolly, centering the tripod. He didn't say anything else. I watched him curiously. He really did move in such a delicate manner, I guessed because his equipment was probably worth more than me. His hands cupped his knees as he peered at the screen, bottom lip sucked in.

"He works at the post office," I said for no reason at all.

He glanced up, unimpressed. "That's cool."

And for whatever reason, I kept talking. "Yeah, uh. He lives out of town, about a half hour drive. So I'll only see him on weekends, which is fine," I was talking so fast, like I was compensating for something.

"Sounds like a good deal," Xavier answered.

"He's Georgia's step-brother, so I've known him forever. We were bound to end up together from the start since there's not a whole lot of good op–"

"Bradford," Xavier snapped, "I don't care."

Then I shut my mouth. What the fuck was wrong with me? Of course he didn't care. My relationship was of no importance to his life, so there was no reason for me to just keep droning on about it. He sighed as he stepped back and pressed record.

"You can start."

I spoke about electrolytes and sugars for way too long, dragging my sentences out in a way that would put myself to sleep. He just watched boredly behind the camera, arms crossed and foot tapping on the floor. When I finished, I breathed out a relieved sigh. He turned the camera away from me, facing the bathroom, and watched it back.

My beer was empty so I grabbed another. Xavier was on his fourth by the time he finished watching it back. I wondered how he could drink so heavily. I knew he partied back in high school, but this shit was nasty. He slurped it down like water.