Read Online Defining Us: The Calvin & Eric Story (69 Bottles) by Zoey Derrick - Free Book Online
Authors: Zoey Derrick
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did you do?”
I smile into the phone. “Nothing, that’s the problem. Can you please come over?”
“I’ll be there in five,” Eric said before hanging up the phone. I went back to my dorm room, one that I was fortunate enough to have to myself, and I waited.
Within five minutes, Eric was there, concern etched in his features. “What’s up, Mouse?” I smiled at the memory of how that nickname came to fruition.
“I need you to take this.” I handed him the baggie I had in my hand. “I don’t need it anymore.” He cocked his head at me. “I didn’t do it last night, I fell asleep before I could manage to do it. When I woke up this morning, everything made more sense. If it wasn’t important enough for me to do it last night, it isn’t important enough for me to do it ever again.”
Peacock smiled at me, wide and gorgeous. “I knew you could do it,” he said softly.
It was in that moment, though I didn’t know it at the time, that I fell for Eric Richardson. His love and compassion shone through that morning brighter than anything I’d seen before. Ironically enough, I chalked it up to being free of the coke, to not being high or hungover. The clarity of it all, that’s when everything changed between the two of us. Though I never had a problem avoiding the obvious, burying myself in girls without a second thought. Girls were easy. Girls I could fuck and walk away from. I never felt like I had to explain myself to them. I never felt the need to tell them why I couldn’t stay, just that I wasn’t going to stay. I always felt like I owed Eric an explanation for why I was the way I was.
Despite all of that, he never indicated anything about being gay until much later in the band’s history. Little things started happening, like he’d find himself in the middle of a threesome with a guy and a girl, or sometimes I’d even catch him watching some guy in a way that would suggest more than just a casual glance. Then the women started to fade into the background. He’d still tag along to the bars, flirt with the girls, talk to them, whatever, but I started to notice that he’d never take anyone anywhere. He’d always be in the same spot, often times with the same girl, drinking beer and whatever. Then I started to notice the girl conversations slowing down and he’d intercede into my personal conversations and whatnot. Not that it ever bothered me, but in hindsight, I see what he was doing.
He was jealous, in his own way.
I realized he was gay right before he kissed me for the first time, right before I threw up all over the ground in front of the bench we were on.
I sigh, remembering that first kiss. I remember thinking briefly that I’d consumed enough alcohol to stop myself from falling into my body’s conditioned response and that maybe all the stars finally fell into place…then it shattered into a million tiny pieces. Holding me prisoner inside my own body.
I told myself that he needed to admit to himself that he was gay, but he knew he was gay. So I rationalized it away by thinking that he needed to tell everyone. And until he came clean with Talon and the band, I couldn’t act on my impulses and emotions. Then he finally fucking does it and everything I thought I knew shattered. My self-hatred has only grown.
I know that I am dragging him along, making him think that us being together is a possibility, but it is not intentional. That is why I told him that we can’t be. I hoped like hell that telling him would make him see it and move on, let it go.
The disconnect between my heart and my head, between the truth and what I’ve been conditioned to think as truth, has only made things worse.
“You have to tell him.” Addison’s voice breaks me of my thoughts and I jump. I’d gotten so lost in my thoughts somewhere along the way that I stopped playing. “He deserves to know the truth. You may not want to tell me or anyone else for that
I smile into the phone. “Nothing, that’s the problem. Can you please come over?”
“I’ll be there in five,” Eric said before hanging up the phone. I went back to my dorm room, one that I was fortunate enough to have to myself, and I waited.
Within five minutes, Eric was there, concern etched in his features. “What’s up, Mouse?” I smiled at the memory of how that nickname came to fruition.
“I need you to take this.” I handed him the baggie I had in my hand. “I don’t need it anymore.” He cocked his head at me. “I didn’t do it last night, I fell asleep before I could manage to do it. When I woke up this morning, everything made more sense. If it wasn’t important enough for me to do it last night, it isn’t important enough for me to do it ever again.”
Peacock smiled at me, wide and gorgeous. “I knew you could do it,” he said softly.
It was in that moment, though I didn’t know it at the time, that I fell for Eric Richardson. His love and compassion shone through that morning brighter than anything I’d seen before. Ironically enough, I chalked it up to being free of the coke, to not being high or hungover. The clarity of it all, that’s when everything changed between the two of us. Though I never had a problem avoiding the obvious, burying myself in girls without a second thought. Girls were easy. Girls I could fuck and walk away from. I never felt like I had to explain myself to them. I never felt the need to tell them why I couldn’t stay, just that I wasn’t going to stay. I always felt like I owed Eric an explanation for why I was the way I was.
Despite all of that, he never indicated anything about being gay until much later in the band’s history. Little things started happening, like he’d find himself in the middle of a threesome with a guy and a girl, or sometimes I’d even catch him watching some guy in a way that would suggest more than just a casual glance. Then the women started to fade into the background. He’d still tag along to the bars, flirt with the girls, talk to them, whatever, but I started to notice that he’d never take anyone anywhere. He’d always be in the same spot, often times with the same girl, drinking beer and whatever. Then I started to notice the girl conversations slowing down and he’d intercede into my personal conversations and whatnot. Not that it ever bothered me, but in hindsight, I see what he was doing.
He was jealous, in his own way.
I realized he was gay right before he kissed me for the first time, right before I threw up all over the ground in front of the bench we were on.
I sigh, remembering that first kiss. I remember thinking briefly that I’d consumed enough alcohol to stop myself from falling into my body’s conditioned response and that maybe all the stars finally fell into place…then it shattered into a million tiny pieces. Holding me prisoner inside my own body.
I told myself that he needed to admit to himself that he was gay, but he knew he was gay. So I rationalized it away by thinking that he needed to tell everyone. And until he came clean with Talon and the band, I couldn’t act on my impulses and emotions. Then he finally fucking does it and everything I thought I knew shattered. My self-hatred has only grown.
I know that I am dragging him along, making him think that us being together is a possibility, but it is not intentional. That is why I told him that we can’t be. I hoped like hell that telling him would make him see it and move on, let it go.
The disconnect between my heart and my head, between the truth and what I’ve been conditioned to think as truth, has only made things worse.
“You have to tell him.” Addison’s voice breaks me of my thoughts and I jump. I’d gotten so lost in my thoughts somewhere along the way that I stopped playing. “He deserves to know the truth. You may not want to tell me or anyone else for that
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