I'm Your Wreck

16- Sounds Painful

 "What's going on with you?" Quinn asked me as she swirled spaghetti around her fork.

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "You're grumpy tonight."

"I'm not," I said unconvincingly.

She quirked an eyebrow at me. "Well, as much as I love random dinner invitations with my little brother, you only come over for spaghetti night when something is bothering you."

"Because your spaghetti isn't that good," I teased her, hoping that maybe bickering could distract her from digging too deep into my motives for showing up on a random Thursday night for dinner.

Instead, she threw a small piece of garlic bread at my face before saying, "Let's hear it. Nothing some wisdom from your older sister can't solve."

"It's nothing," I insisted again before adding, "I said some stupid stuff to Banks on Saturday and things have been kind of awkward at the house so I just needed to get out for a while."

Slowly, she nodded at me, taking in this information. "What exactly did you say?"

"Can't tell you," I said, because I'd already messed up with Banks and his coming out to me and outing him to my sister would only make that worse. Even though I knew Quinn wouldn't really care, I was still going to keep my mouth shut. "It wasn't malicious, but I was drinking and being an idiot."

"Have you apologized?"

"Yeah, a couple of times. That night and then the morning after. He said it's fine, but things have still been kind of awkward," I explained, stabbing at my spaghetti.

"Well, if it was really bad, then you could try again. Maybe do something nice for him? If it wasn't that bad, then just wait it out and things will go back to normal," she said with a little shrug.

I nodded along.

There was a long silence after that before Quinn hesitantly asked, "You two seem to have gotten pretty close since the semester started. I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Yeah. Probably."

I was still worried, but Quinn distracted me with stories of some chemical explosions in her lab and then we played a couple of games of rummy until I had to get back home.

Maybe things would just go back to normal after a while. I just had to prove to Banks that his sexuality was a non-issue for me. That it was just one drunk moment where I vomited all the wrong words and it wouldn't happen again. I could do that.

I wasn't sure if he'd be at the house when I got there, but I stopped at a local sports bar called Double Dee's near Quinn's apartment for a to-go order of wings to bring home. Three different sauces from mild to very spicy.

Thankfully, I could hear the muffled sound of R.E.M playing through his door when I walked up the stairs.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I knocked and listened to soft footsteps crossing the room until it swung open.

"Hey," I exhaled, holding up the plastic bag of to-go containers. "Found a new wing place to try. Are you hungry?"

Banks eyed the bag and then the two beers in my other hand, seeming to contemplate this idea for a moment. I think I stopped breathing until he finally said, "Sure," and then stepped aside so that I could walk through the door.

"They only had seven sauce options, which I know is less than ideal for a sauce guy like yourself, but who knows? Could be the best sauces on the planet."

"I thought you were going to your sister's for dinner?"

It probably would have made more sense to go downstairs where we could both comfortably eat at the new dining table Ollie found at a garage sale last week, but neither one of us made the move to leave his room.