I remembered my missing sweatshirt and candies the next morning and texted Josh about it, again. He’d confirmed that they were at his house some time yesterday, but he hadn’t responded to my question of when was a good time for me to stop over, so I decided to take my ass over to his house and pick them up without his blessing. I had a key to the front door he’d given me at some point, so I didn’t bother calling him and demanding to be let in. Knowing him, he’d probably be at work already, though his schedule was so unpredictable that I’d stopped trying to track it.

            Once I was standing on his porch, I sorted through my keys until I found the old brass one that Josh had given me so long ago he’d probably forgotten I had it. Then I unlocked the door and entered the foyer, where an array of shoes were thrown all over the shoe rack and a pile of mismatched hoodies and jackets dangled precariously from several overburdened hooks. I vaguely wondered who the Doc Martens belonged to, because all of Josh’s roommates wore Jordans and Timbs, and Josh was not a boot-wearing type. My question was then answered when I walked into the kitchen and found someone shirtless and brewing coffee. Even without seeing his face, I recognized the spine tattoo that ran down the center of back and the tattoo that read Bury the Hatchet over a graphic of an axe on his right shoulder.

            “What are you doing here?” I blurted.

            Duncan jolted and turned to face me. I hadn’t seen him in a while, but nothing about him had changed beyond the fact that his hair was short now. He was still tall and lean and half-covered in tattoos, looking every inch the emotionally unavailable bad boy that I’d thought I’d had a chance with before Thad proved himself to be the much better choice.

            Duncan’s surprise didn’t last long. He smiled and nodded as if he’d been expecting me. “Privyet. How’s it going?”

            “What are you doing here?” I repeated. “Where’s Josh?”
            “Asleep.” Duncan’s lips tweaked into a half smirk before he took a sip of coffee.

            And just like that, it clicked into place. Josh’s texting and his evasiveness to my questions about it, the occasional guilty look on his face. I’d thought he was having some kind of secret affair with Essie, but this was somehow much, much worse.

            “You’ve got ten seconds to explain what’s going on.”

            “Or what?” Duncan leaned back against the kitchen counter like he had nowhere else to be, and I was reminded of how much I hated him sometimes. Duncan was the most walled-off person I’d ever met, and he brushed off almost everything as if he didn’t give a shit. Maybe he didn’t. I refused to believe he was a sociopath, but it was possible.

            “Or I’m gonna go upstairs and ask Josh.”

            “I won’t stop you.”

            “You two are fucking.”

            Duncan shrugged a shoulder. “Dunno. Maybe.”

            “What kind of fucking answer is that? Why are you such an asshole? Christ.”

            “This is between you and Josh, not me.”

            “Excuse me? You were the one who decided to fuck my—” It hit me again, and I was livid. I wasn’t about to give Josh a pass, but I knew he couldn’t have done this on his own. Duncan knew how to play with people, knew how to make you feel like the sexiest person in the world one second and a total loser in the next. If I hadn’t been immune, Josh certainly wouldn’t be.

            “You act like Josh had no choice in the matter.”

            “You act like you had nothing to do with this. Did you do this on purpose? To get back at me?”

            Duncan pushed off the counter and crossed the kitchen, coming to a stop a foot away from me. I hated that I had to crane my head back to look at him because he was so fucking tall. I also hated how hot I still found him.

            “You know, Justin,” Duncan said in an even, unaffected voice, “not everything is about you.”

            “So you and Josh just happened to hook up. I don’t believe that.”

            “You were the one who introduced me to him.”

            “Yeah, and you introduced me to your friends, but I didn’t fuck any of them.”

            “That’s a shame, cuz they might have been into you.”

            I almost shoved him, but then I realized he was carrying a cup of coffee, and as pissed as I was, I didn’t want to give him second-degree burns. “Stop acting like I have no right to be upset.”

            “You don’t. We slept together and that was it. You have a boyfriend now so why does it matter?”

            “Because—stop being such a fucking prick, I hate it when you do this!”

            “Do what?”

            “Act like I’m hysterical when I am in fact having the normal reaction to this. You’re the one who’s so emotionally fucked that you think this is all fine. Maybe you didn’t do this to get back at me, but I have a hard time believing that I had nothing to do with your decision to hook up with Josh.”

            Duncan frowned, the first earnest expression I’d seen on him yet. “Why would you have anything to do with it? You told me you had a boyfriend, and I was like yeah, cool, okay and moved on.”

            “To my best friend!”
            “We’d already been chatting before you got a boyfriend. I liked Josh. I told you that.”

            “You said he was cute.”

            “Yeah.” Duncan lifted an eyebrow, once again looking so skeptical that I was questioning my right to be upset.

            “Cute is not… you call bunnies cute. Cute doesn’t mean anything.”

            “What was I supposed to say? I wanna raw dog your best friend? You didn’t think I’d be interested in Josh because he’s not a skinny twink like you?” Duncan scoffed. “I can have more than one type.”

            “You know what? Whatever. Fuck you. I’m going upstairs to get my fucking jacket.” I whirled around and left the kitchen, whipping around the corner and charging up the stairs. I didn’t even bother to knock on Josh’s door, because I didn’t really care if I woke him up. Which seemed to be what happened, because he was blinking in a post-sleep stupor when I barged into his room and snatched up the light jacket and bag of candies I’d come here for.

            “Justin? What the—why are you here?”

            “I came to pick up this fucking shit,” I snapped, twisting around and throwing up the jacket. “If you’d answered my texts, maybe I wouldn’t have found out you were sleeping with Duncan behind my back.”

            Josh’s face lost all its color. I was expecting some sputtering response, but instead Josh was silent, staring at me wide-eyed and dumbfounded. If it were up to me I’d have spent the next twenty minutes yelling at him, but I knew I’d probably say something shitty I couldn’t take back like I always did. So I left, slamming the bedroom door behind me and careening down the staircase. Duncan was in the foyer now, still sipping coffee. I wanted to punch him. I didn’t. Instead, I ignored him and headed for the front door.

             “Justin—” Duncan began.

            “Go to hell,” I shot back before throwing the door open and marching onto the porch. Duncan never attempted pursuit, so I was able to get all the way down the block to where my car was parked unimpeded. Only once I was in my car did I drop my head against the steering wheel and let out a long and frustrated moan.

            My phone buzzed. I was positive it was Josh, so I turned my phone off, turned my car on, and pulled away from the curb, needing to get the fuck out of Boyle Heights.