Roommates (Maxley)

Chapter 23

"So the two of you are getting back together?" Bobby says with a few frog blinks, "God you two are so messy."

"That's rich coming from you." Max shrugs on a shirt just to pull it back off. Nothing he wears feels right, everything too baggy or too tight. "Is my tank top on the bed?"

"Are you trying to dress like Tank now or something?" Bobby grins as Max grimaces, shrugging when PJ nudges him. "What? Broski's been his biggest hater since he took his loverboy."

"Hand me the shirt, asshole." Max fumes at the accusation, just the thought of Tank pisses him off. Hopefully he's not all over Brad tonight, then he'll finally get the time with Brad he's been craving since their last conversation. Progress had been made, Brad had even glanced at him in class the other day, and he let his hand brush against Max's when he walked past as if he wanted to hold it. "After tonight, Tank will be a distant memory."

"Not if he's been putting it down-"

"He hasn't!" Max ties some of his dreads back, frown etched onto his face. "And if he did, it's not like that'd change how I feel about Brad."

"That guy could set you on fire and you'd still be down bad for him." Bobby shrugs when PJ blinks at him, "You're being colonized."

"Pretty sure it's the other way around since I'm the one- nevermind, look just give him a chance." Max says with crossed arms, "How do I look?"

"Like a million bucks...in bitcoin." PJ laughs when Max scowls, "Don't worry. I'm sure Brad will be all over you like ants on apples."

"Ants like apples?" Bobby asks while following Max outside and through campus, "Max do we really have to go? What does the Frat have that my plug doesn't?"

"Free drugs."

"Yup, I'm in." Bobby's walking ahead of him now, shades over his eyes. "I saw that look, y'know. Chillax, I swear I won't do any hard ones."

"You consider crack a casual drug, I'd hate to see you near any hard ones." PJ's hands are in his pocket, eyes widening when his phone buzzes. "You two go in without me, I have to take this."

"I bet fifty it's Mocha." Bobby nudges Max only for him to be unresponsive, his eyes staring straight ahead. Bobby follows his gaze, sighing when the sight greets him. "Yikes...sorry Dude-"

"I'm gonna go get a drink." Max turns away as quickly as he can, trying to wipe it from his memory but it was etched into his eyes.

Tank's arms were around Brad, his lips against Brad's and Brad was reciprocating. The sour taste of alcohol isn't enough to mask the bitterness of betrayal or the sharp stinging in his chest that followed every swallow or the burning whiskey. Gross, he didn't mean to grab the bottle, really he just reached for the first thing he saw. Tears prick his eyes but he blinks them away, nothing screams loser like standing in a crowd of cheering college students and crying. He ends up outside, bottle still in hand despite the disgusting taste. He sits on the stairs of the back porch, taking swig after swig until he struggles to stand. This was stupid, the breakup, everything- he should've just left things as they were and Brad would still be in his arms.

"Brad, Baby, where are you going?" He hears Tank over the music, the man's gruff voice only agitating him further.

"I just need some air!" Brad quickly closes the back door behind him, sinking down it and oblivious to Max's stare from across the patio. "Liar...he said he'd come..."

"I did." Max's head is on his hand, voice a soft whisper. "Not that it made a difference. Congrats, I mean I hope things go well for you two."

"What-"