Ryan

Ryan texted as soon as he parked, and by the time he'd gotten out of his car and grabbed his bag, Jacky was outside the entrance of Wright Hall under the light. The sight of his ripped jeans and black hoodie were so familiar it made Ryan's chest ache. All he wanted to do was crush him in a hug.

But when Ryan approached, Jacky shifted from foot to foot and stepped back for Ryan to pass through the doorway saying, "Dang, it's cold out here."

"Yeah," Ryan said. After entering he stepped out of the way so Jacky could lead him to his dorm room. It felt like a strange dance.

He'd been inside some of the dorms at Tufts, and in Monica's dorm, and this felt similar. A long hallway full of doors – some open, some closed. It being Friday night, more doors were open than closed, and it was clear from the noise within that students were either getting ready to party or in the middle of partying. Music clashed and voices rose and fell, and the smell of sweet smoke emanated from behind the closed doors.

Jacky stopped at a door just like all the other doors. In block letters on the whiteboard mounted to the door was the message Don't even think about it. Under that, someone had written hi with a heart over the i. "This is me."

The room was small, and even though Ryan had expected this, he had to orient himself. The beds were narrow and up on risers. There was stuff everywhere. The television was on, quietly playing an episode of "Seinfeld." Ryan, after looking for a place to set down his bag, dropped it to the floor near the desk that was clearly Jacky's. Billy's side of the room was an explosion of color and glitter in contrast to the neutral tones on Jacky's side.

"So, this is it." Jacky flopped his arm. "Home sweet home."

Ryan couldn't quite put a finger on why this all felt so awkward. Then he noted the open door, and stepped around Jacky to shut it.

"Is the noise bothering you?" Jacky asked. "I can go tell those guys to turn it down."

"No, it's fine."

Jacky nodded without looking at him, and Ryan took a moment to glance around the room. There wasn't anywhere to really sit other than the beds. Jacky's desk chair was full of half-folded laundry. Jacky noticed him looking at it.

"Oh! Let me put this all away."

"We could sit on the bed, I don't mind."

"It'll just take me a minute." Jacky scooped up a pile of clothes and hurried by, using the toe of his sneaker to open a drawer and dump the clothes inside.

"Seriously, it's okay."

Jacky grabbed another pile of clothes. "Almost done!"

Ryan's stomach growled. He hadn't even touched the granola bars during the ride – he'd been too anxious to eat. He suddenly realized that arriving at eight p.m. meant the dining hall would likely be closed, and Ryan wasn't going to get dinner.

Now that Jacky slammed the last drawer shut, he stopped and stared at his bed, which had a pile of sheets on it. "Oh, I just have to make my bed."

As Jacky climbed up, Ryan realized that this was going to be a process. He grabbed a corner of the fitted sheet and started helping. The whole time he stared at the mattress and wondered how they would both fit without one of them falling off in the middle of the night. For some reason, even though Ryan also had a twin bed, it felt wider than this.

But maybe it was more the vibe he was getting from Jacky rather than the size of the bed. He and Jacky had shared many a bed before.

Then his stomach burbled again, and he second-guessed himself. Things always seemed worse when he was hangry. "Um, can we get pizza or something?" Ryan asked.

Jacky

After he had called for a pizza, Jacky found himself apologizing. "Sorry, I should have realized you'd be hungry." As soon as he said it, it sounded stupid. What would he have done, gotten leftovers from the dining hall? Heated up some ramen? He hadn't eaten himself. "Do you want something to drink? I have water and Gatorade and some energy drinks that taste really gross."

"Water's fine," Ryan said.

Jacky jumped up and opened the fridge. "I don't have any alcohol or anything. Billy has this giant bottle of vodka but he'd probably notice if we drank it."

"I don't need alcohol."

Handing Ryan the water, he stood up. "Well, now that it's clean... Welcome to my room. Your apartment's way better."

Ryan smiled faintly. "My room isn't that much bigger."

"Yes it is."

"It just looks that way because of the bunk beds."

Jacky turned and grabbed himself a water, took a swig. "You sure you don't want beer or something? I could probably ask the guys across the hall for some." He actually took a step toward the door before remembering that Braedyn was one of the guys across the hall.

"Seriously, I don't need to drink. I had to have a talk with Pete about his drinking last week."

His mind raced through a variety of follow-ups to that statement, like Wow, I never thought of Pete as a drinker and Yeah, he was pretty wasted when I was there. Those thoughts were interwoven with Ryan's met Braedyn before, it's no big deal and I can't let Ryan talk to Braedyn ever again. All these thoughts led to Jacky standing there saying nothing while Ryan watched him quizzically.

"I hooked up with Braedyn," Jacky blurted out, and immediately wanted to die.

Ryan barely reacted, except for the quizzical smile fading from his face. "When?"

"It was a while ago. Not recently. Like a month ago," Jacky babbled. His phone buzzed, and he ignored it.

"Oh." Ryan was looking across the room, at the Rent poster on Billy's wall.

"I should have told you before now. I should have told you right after it happened. Or at least when I came out to see you. I'm so fucking stupid." The words wouldn't stop falling out of his mouth. "I don't deserve you, I've never deserved you."

Ryan whispered, "Jacky."

"It's just, nothing happened after that. I thought he might like me but apparently he just wanted to try out being gay or something, and I'm an easy target, because who the fuck chases after an amputee?"

He was crying now, of course. His phone buzzed again, and he yanked it out of his pocket to see what fresh hell was entering his life.

"I'd thought I got over all this shit when I was in therapy." He huffed a bitter laugh, flicking his phone screen open. "Guess not." Blinking, he tried to make the words on his screen come into focus. "Oh, perfect timing. The pizza is here."