The Hot One

Eric was dreading bringing it up with his brother. He already knew what Charles would say, so the fact he was even wasting his breath was probably a mistake on his part. He was supposed to be heading to college in the next two weeks. Joining his brother’s frat would of course be a cake walk with his last name draped around him like some all access pass. In the beginning it had excited him. The chance to have a bigger pond to swim in where he could finally make a splash that didn’t ripple into one of his brothers.

But home had been more volatile than ever lately. Even walking on eggshells would be entirely too risky so he did his best to simply stay out of sight. Eric wished he could be braver, but he’d remembered all the times that he’d tried to stand up to the man before and how it had ended more horribly than had he simply tucked tail and run. With tension rising and absolutely nobody there to witness, what would happen to his poor mother? The woman spent more time cringing like a beaten dog at every little noise than she did any other part of her life. He knew that it wasn’t just the physical stuff she feared, it was the words. Some days it was even his highs when he walked around with a smile, leaving his family to wonder when his happy hollow fever would break. He couldn’t leave her alone in all of that. She didn’t make eye contact with Eric anymore, instead prefer to keep distance from her youngest as she had with his elder brother for so long. He could understand how it begun to blur together for her, even if it hurt.

He walked up to his brothers dorm room, noting for the hundredth time how nice the Kingswood halls looked. Maybe by his final year he’d have convinced his mother to go, or maybe the compassion he felt towards the situation would be beaten out of him and he could finally have his own room here. Maybe one at the end of this hall. That sounded nice. He gave three nervous knocks on the door, typically he’d stroll in if it was unlocked but now his brother was a single man he somewhat dreaded walking in on him and some girl. “You decent?”

August had torn through Walterton with a vengeance, bringing with it unprecedented humidity, and a heat wave that was enough to make anyone wish for an early winter. For about the fourth time this week, Charles had thanked god that his apartment had good air-conditioning--none of that dorm crap. For all the prestige Kingswood held, it had better, after all. Shut away from the heat, Charles sat in his room wondering just what the hell to do with himself today. Garrett was out, leaving the place quiet and still. On the one hand, Charles was disappointed; there went one less person who could entertain him. But on the other, he was relieved. His breakup was still fairly recent enough that even when he was hanging out with friends, he felt like they were constantly watching him, Garrett being the worst of all. Standing up, he moved across the apartment from his bedroom to the kitchen, pulling a can of soda out of the refrigerator. He was standing in the same spot, deciding whether or not his boredom was severe enough to straighten up the living room, when there came a knock on the door, followed by the voice of his youngest brother.

Charles was surprised--he hadn’t been expecting Eric-- but took it as a stroke of good fortune and strode forward anyway, pulling open the door with his easy, rueful grin. “I’m touched, you know me so well that you have to ask,” he joked as the door swung open, but broke off at the sight of Eric, and the smile died on his face. Something was wrong, he could read it instantly in the way that his brother was standing. He should have guessed Eric wouldn’t have come all this way just for a surprise visit. Immediately Charles’s trained eyes looked for bruises, but didn’t see anything immediately visible. Swinging the door open further, he stepped back to let his brother into the apartment, not speaking again until the door was fully closed behind them. “What’s up?” he asked, trying to keep his voice casual, even as they both knew he meant ‘what’s wrong?’.

“The next person that asks me about the break up is going to find out how badly it hurts to be kicked by a girl wearing a stiletto.” She mumbled darkly, as she stirred her protein shake with a crazy straw. She’d spent her day trying to work out in peace, yet instead found herself wishing a weight would crush her so she didn’t have to listen to another moment of Eric trying to comfort her. “I’m freaking fine. So I don’t have to put up with the epitome of high maintenance anymore. Boo goddamn hoo.”

After being together so long, it was like he had a radar, immediately able to recognize her voice in a crowded room. Then again, it wasn’t difficult when it was coming from right behind him; he hadn’t realized Kira was sitting there until she’d spoken. Since the breakup over the summer, in his best efforts to avoid awkward conversations, Charles had done his best to avoid her-- which had been difficult to say the least, considering they shared a campus and mutual friends. Mentally he cursed at himself for getting near her, but to be fair--it had been her choice to sit so close to the cash register, and it was the lunch rush. For a moment he thought about just ignoring her, buying his food and taking it to meet his friends at their table in to corner. But if she happened to see him--and thought he was standing there to listen to her talk to herself--it would be even worse. So he’d suck it up.

“Believe me, nothing was further from my list of conversation topics.” 

“Why? What’d you do to it Price?”

“Please, like I’d ever touch that piece of shit. I wouldn’t even ruin my keys to scratch the paint. My car however now has a mark on it, and since you’re parked next to me...”

He rolled his eyes yet didn’t comment further, merely tried to calculate how he could smack the heads of his two closet, scratch that his only, friends heads together and tell them to work their shit out. “You’re disgusting. And a terrible liar–” he muttered, returning his attention to his book. “Actually, it’s the Karma Sutra and I found it in your dresser, didn’t know you were such a book fan Charlie boy–” he teased in response, rolling his eyes at the mention of the gig. “Pass, I have Vanessa coming around later, or was it Melanie… fuck.” he paused to think exactly who had returned his call. “I don’t know, all I know is I’m avoiding the House of Hunt and James for a few days–”

He didn’t catch the mumble, but let it go, knowing that anything Garrett wanted to say would have come out loud and clear. “Yeah, you know me, always up for trying new things. Better figure that out before she gets here, girls usually prefer when you call them by their actual name,” Charles laughed, clapping his friend on the shoulder as he walked from the room. He left the door to the bathroom open however, calling out as he fixed his hair. “Solid plan. Avoidance of going home is what college was meant for, if I never have to go home again it will be one time too soon.” 

She rolled her eyes, she knew most people didn’t believe her when she said she was still fun, heck she didn’t believe herself until Boon would reassure her that she was, or Paige would make her realise that she could still have fun with one of her crazy suggestions. “Crappy music huh? You know how to show a girl a good time..” she teased, wrinkling her nose. “But sure, why not? I mean, I have to see if they are as terrible as you say they are–”

He laughed and spread his hands. “What can I say, I’m a good friend. Someone’s gotta support Mark’s band. And you did say you had nothing better to do,” he reminded her with a grin. Her agreement came easily and he kept that fake easy grin on his face, the one from earlier days. “Great, lets go then.”

“Get the fuck off my car before I make you–”

“Woah, chill, I wasn’t fucking on your car! I was just checking for scratches.”

“Trying–” she replied, “I can have fun without the drink– and I then remember said fun the next day” she protested with a grin. “We’ll see, what are we doing then?”

“Of course you can,” he assured her, though his tone clearly said ‘no you can’t’. He threw up his hands. “But hey, its your choice.” When she asked for their plans he pretended to think for a moment. “I heard about a basement show tonight, a friend of mine Mark has a band and they’re having a thing. Are you interested in terrible music? And I do mean fucking terrible,” he added with a grin.

“Willing to get a little freaky–” he suggested, sighing at his additions, “Are you talking about all freshman or just one in particular?” he said, as Charles returned with the missing shirt. He shrugged, an innocent look on his face. “They all look the same on the bedroom floor, bro–” he replied with a roll of his yes, “How am I supposed to know it’s not mine” he argued, before returning his attentions to his book. “What are you up to tonight anyway?”

Charles snorted. “Now it sounds like you’re talking about one in particular. Last year was good for you then?” he joked. He looked down at the shirt in his hand for a moment, shaking his head before pulling it on. “Oh I left it on your floor? Rookie mistake, I’m the worst one night stand.” He tugged at the bottom of his shirt to straighten it before running a hand through his hair. “Nothing much, just going to that basement show. It’s probably gonna suck but there’s alcohol. What about you? Doing some light reading? Getting a jump on your classes, Hermione?” he ribbed.

“I have one similar in my closet–” he replied, nodding to his wardrobe completely unaware it actually was the shirt Charles was looking for. He stared at Charles blankly, as if it were a dumb question and the answer obvious. “Because they are hot, young, impressionable…willing, need I go on?”

“Are we borrowing each other’s clothes now, Hunt? How domestic,” he laughed, though it didn’t stop him from going over to the wardrobe and pulling open the doors. “Clingy, emotional...” he added over his shoulder to Garrett’s running list as he thumbed through the shirts. A moment later he turned around, holding the navy button down clenched in his hand. “Bro, this literally is my shirt. The one I’ve been looking for.”