The Third Catch

Chapter 3 - Eric

Eric's POV

It was the day before classes started that Izzy had managed to corral and bribe me into going to Fresh Brew, the quaint coffee shop on the corner a few blocks from campus. Izzy's friends worked there, and I knew they'd message her about my location if I stepped near its vicinity. It wasn't that I didn't want to see my girlfriend, but I didn't want us to have the conversation I knew she desperately needed to have with me. I could push it off until after classes started, and I'd have at least homework to use as an excuse to leave early. That was what I had hoped, at least.

My avoidant personality style never used to be this terrible. Still, I'm sure if I could afford a therapist, they'd say it was an unhealthy coping mechanism and that I needed to learn to communicate better. Why pay for a random stranger to tell me something I was already too self-aware?

I wasn't like Izzy or Kenji; no one in my immediate family to listen and understand me. I didn't have living grandparents who could fund my housing or supportive parents who actually cared for my happiness.

It was why I learned to suppress. Less heartbreak that way.

Except, Izzy, as I began to date her, could see right through me. She prided herself in her intuition and ability to listen and understand people calmly. It was why she was in her last years of studying to become a therapist. It was also why I sat my ass down in the chair as instructed and waited for her to bring me my favorite coffee and pastry. I wasn't going to argue with her.

"Eat," she instructed, sliding the s'mores tart I was obsessed with toward me. It's more sugar than I'd probably need, especially considering conditioning was next week, and Coach liked to have us follow our nutritionist's plan to a tee. I took a hesitant bite, watching her neutral expression for any sign of hate, disappointment, or anything negative. I took a second bite when she added, "How are you?"

"How am I?" I parroted, not caring that marshmallow fluff was likely all over my cheek. "You're not mad?"

Her brows lifted. "Why would I be mad at you?"

I took a long sip of my warm coffee, ignoring the burning in my throat.

"I fucked it all up," I confessed. "It's all a mess."

"Why makes you say that?"

I scoffed, reaching for my coffee like a client would clutch a pillow in a therapist's office. "You know why. I never should've suggested it to him."

"It wasn't just you," she pressed. "I distinctly remember us conversing about it in this very shop. We both agreed he was the safest option. I was the one you suggested it in the first place."

I glanced around us as if someone could overhear. "Yes, but I don't think this is a normal thing friends do. I crossed a line."

"He agreed," she reminded me. "He had multiple chances to back out."

"We're friends, Iz. How am I supposed to go about and act like nothing happened?"

She tilted her head. "I mean, it's up to both of you. He's discussed it with me over the summer, and I don't think he disliked it."

"Because it was sex," I whispered. "I don't remember the last time he brought a girl over."

Her brows raised. "You didn't see the way he looked at you, Eric. I don't think it was about me."

"He's my friend, Iz. My best friend. That's all he views it as. That night doesn't mean he suddenly is into me or attracted to men in general."

She shrugged. "Have you asked him that? You know attraction can be different for everyone. Not everyone knows who they are quite yet. Maybe Kenji isn't sure, either. Like you said, it's been a while since he's dated anyone seriously."