Ethan nodded. A long ash dangled from his cigarette.
“Your ash,” Todd said. “You need to tap it out.”
Ethan awkwardly flicked the ash into the shower’s ventilation grate.
“There’s something I wanted to ask you,” Todd said. “You can say no if you want.”
Ethan nodded.
“I need help with my college essays. Would you be okay reading them for me, maybe giving me some tips?”
“Sure,” Ethan said. “No problem.”
“Can I do something to repay you? Anything you want.”
“I don’t know,” Ethan said. He attempted another drag on his cigarette, this time inhaling more skillfully. “Actually, there is one thing. I have to do this assignment for art class. We have to draw someone, do a portrait. I don’t have anyone to sit for me. Everyone else is having their friends do it, but I wasn’t sure who to ask.”
“Sure, I’ll do it,” Todd said quickly. He liked the idea of Ethan drawing him. “When would it be?”
“Maybe the week after next? After Parents Weekend, definitely.”
“Are your parents coming?”
“No,” Ethan muttered. “They can’t make it.”
Todd looked at Ethan with what he was sure was an expression of pity, though he quickly tried to temper it.
“Do you want to come to New York with me?” Todd asked. “I’m staying at my mom’s for the long weekend.” Todd mentally ran through the preparations he would need to make; Ethan could sleep on the pullout couch in his room. They could go drinking together. He felt as if he were about to pour liquor and sin into this pure vessel. He, Todd, was tainted. He had long ago been sullied by the pot, the alcohol, the cigarettes. He had the sense that even if he did clean up his act, the dirt would remain.
Todd saw Ethan’s eyes widen as he comprehended the invitation. “To New York? With you? I, well—sure. Yes. New York. That sounds great.”
Ethan then did something that, for him, was unusual. After exhaling a long stream of smoke, he grinned.
The next evening, as they did on most nights, Todd and Alex headed for their usual spot, the Bones office underneath Slater Dormitory. As one of the publication’s senior editors, he had a key, and he knew the room would be free at this hour. The two slipped into the dorm’s side entrance unnoticed, and unlocked the door to the small room. He shut the blinds and pulled out the blanket he kept in the closet, laying it down on the floor.
He knew there should be more to it than the physical, and in the beginning, there had been. He and Alex had been in love, or so he had thought when they had started seeing each other late last spring, as much as he had a concept of what love was. Now the fun they had been having together had been replaced by the pressure of obligation. It was difficult, though, to give up something that was so easy and comfortable.
The worst part about it, Todd realized, as Alex moved up and down on top of him and his bare backside dug into the scratchy blanket, was that he wasn’t completely there. In his mind that night, as he was inside her, he was having sex with someone else.
Later that night, Todd nearly collided with Ethan as he ran up the stairs to his room on the fourth floor of Slater.
“Did you do the English reading?” Todd asked, though he knew what Ethan’s answer would be. Ethan had probably already finished Pride and Prejudice and written the required essay on it. Todd, as usual, had fallen behind. He asked Ethan if he could meet him in his room after they both took showers.
Todd had a routine to his ablutions, a ritual he would complete after having been with Alex. After checking in with his corridor master, he stripped and wrapped a towel around his waist, avoiding the disgusting stickiness around his crotch. The bathroom on the fourth floor only had two single shower stalls, and both of them were occupied. He could wait, or he could go down to the group shower on the third floor. He felt something pull at him. Ethan would be there now.
Todd walked down to the third floor and entered the bathroom. He hung up his towel on a worn metal hook and stepped into the shower room. Ethan was soaping himself at the middle head. Todd turned on the other nozzle and Ethan looked up.
“Oh,” Ethan said, squinting without his glasses. “Hey.”
“No hot water upstairs,” Todd said.
Todd started lathering himself, but he couldn’t help looking at Ethan’s body. He knew that was what guys did, checking each other out like dogs. It was important to know how he measured up. It wasn’t just penis size. How did his muscles compare? Did he have more or less hair than his peers? Who had the body of a boy, and who had the body of a man?
Todd let his eyes graze over Ethan; without his glasses, Ethan wouldn’t know he was looking. For someone who professed little interest in sports, his friend was surprisingly muscular. He had mentioned that he liked to work out when he could, and claimed to do one hundred push-ups and sit-ups each morning. He had the body of a man, Todd decided: dark bushy tufts under his arms, with prickly hairs that led down from the V of his chest, past his navel, and toward his pubic area. Todd’s own body hair was blond and sparse, and it shamed him, made him feel like a child.
Todd felt his face grow hot, even under the running water, as he stared at Ethan’s groin.
He realized, with shock and disgust, that he was hard. He turned away from Ethan, faced the wall, and waited for him to finish his shower while he tried to make his erection go away. He focused on the cracks between the tiles, on the mildewed grout, on the drain in the corner that was sucking down the soapy water. Anything not to think about it. Anything but this. Not in front of Ethan. Anything but this.
Todd couldn’t get it out of his mind: that night, as he lay on his bed in his boxers, the lights off; in chapel the next morning; while he was peeing. Perhaps it wasn’t a physical thing. While Ethan was a good-looking guy, he didn’t possess any of the natural surety and grace that Todd’s other classmates did. Though he was well built, his body was ill-proportioned, as if it had been created from assembling a series of disparate parts and calling them a man. No, Todd’s attraction to Ethan had little to do with looks. Todd sensed something else in him that he felt missing from his other friendships: Ethan was to him the person he hoped he might someday become, a person who wasn’t merely book smart, but who wanted to understand the world, to go below the surface. Perhaps this was because Ethan had two professors for parents; Todd wondered if people grew up smarter in an environment like that. While his own mother was a writer, she had never been intellectually inclined, preferring the bubbling company of others to the solitude of a book. Todd wanted to absorb some of the intelligence, the wisdom of Ethan Whitley, simply by hanging around him, by soaking up his aura. Maybe that was what it was about. He wanted Ethan to become his friend, to draw him into his life, to fill that gap that had been empty for so long.
He realized, though, that getting close to Ethan was a bit like chasing a scared animal. He could hold out his hands, and it would go running away. If he pretended not to care, nothing would happen, either. It was a matter of coaxing, bit by bit.
CHAPTER 3
The following Saturday afternoon, after the normal half day of classes, Ethan arrived at Hannah’s, ready to work. He had wolfed down a turkey sandwich in the dining hall and was craving something sweet. The memory of Hannah’s blueberry cobbler from several days ago had stayed with him, permanently erasing any recollection he had of his mother’s sad concoction. Hannah’s cobbler had been spicy, tinged with nutmeg, cardamom, cinnamon, and a hint of ginger; the rich, buttery crust had littered the top with its sweet wreckage, covering the layer of plump blueberries.
He rang the doorbell, but there was no answer. It was chilly outside, so he let himself in, sat down at the kitchen counter, and continued his reading of Pride