Always Eli by Charlie Novak

Chapter Twenty-Four

Eli

Sittingin Mum and Mimbles’s dining room with some crushed ice cubes wrapped in a unicorn tea towel pressed to my lip was not the plan I’d had for my Sunday. Mimbles had looked at my lip and said the swelling would go down in a day or two before giving me some baking soda paste to rub on it. It tasted disgusting, but apparently that was my punishment for getting smacked in the face by my dickhead older brother.

We hadn’t had a bust up this bad in years. The last time had been when I was about thirteen and Richard was seventeen, which in hindsight hadn’t been a good move on my part. I’d still kicked him in the nuts though, even if he had handed me my ass. After that, Mum had quietly threatened death and destruction if we ever tried something like that again. We’d believed her.

It was why we’d moved on to verbally sniping at each other. But I guessed showing up with his best friend in tow had been a step too far for Dick.

“Knock, knock.” Tristan’s head appeared around the door. He looked at me and smiled softly, shaking his head. “How’s the lip?”

“You know,” I said, putting the tea towel on the table next to me, “I think my ribs actually hurt more where the bastard smacked me in the side a couple of times. I’m going to be beautifully bruised tomorrow, like a banana.” I winced slightly as I uncrossed my legs and swapped them over, something pulling in my side.

“Oh dear.” Tristan walked over to me and leant down to press a kiss to my forehead. “Will you live?”

“I suppose but mostly out of spite. I can’t believe he hit me!”

“Me either,” Tristan said, pulling out a chair next to me and sitting down. “Although you did antagonise him.”

“I was defending my honour. And yours.”

“I don’t need defending.” Tristan’s expression could only be described as withering. “I’m not some prize for the two of you to compete over.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, thinking back to what I’d said. It hadn’t been my finest hour. “I just didn’t want him to think I’m fucking with you. That’s just insulting. To you and me.”

“I know. Richard knows that too.”

“Did you speak to him?”

“Yes. And you need to.”

“No thanks,” I said, waving my hand. “I’d rather have another fight.”

Tristan chuckled. “That’s definitely not happening.”

I sighed. “I just don’t get it. Why the fuck are you two friends? You’re the most amazing person ever, and he’s well… him.” It was the politest way I could think to phrase it. I picked up my ice again, flinching as I pressed it back on my lip. Thank God I didn’t have a show tomorrow, otherwise I’d be fucked. Although I could definitely work this into a routine somewhere…

“We’re friends because Richard has always been there for me,” Tristan said. He gave me a soft smile. “He was the first person I ever told I was gay, and he just… didn’t care. It wasn’t a thing to him, whereas every dickhead in our year thought gay was the best insult around. I was so nervous because I was fifteen and terrified, and Richard just said it was cool. Then he started bringing me around here so I could see that I could be gay and have a good life—considering nobody else had told me that was possible.”

“I didn’t know that.”

Tristan shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I only figured it out later.” He shook his head as if remembering something funny. “Then there was the time Richard punched Adrian Belper in the face because he called me a cocksucker. I’ve never seen anyone looked so shocked—Adrian and Richard.”

“When was that?” I stared at him. I’d never known any of this about Richard. He’d never seemed to care, but then again, I’d never wanted him to. And I’d never had any problems at school. I’d been one of those lucky ones who flitted between groups of people, flirted outrageously, and managed to get on with everyone.

“I don’t know. When we were in sixth form? About seventeen.”

I rummaged around in my memories, seeing if I could remember anything. I frowned. “I think I remember that. I didn’t know it was about you, but I remember Mimbles being very angry that Richard had been punished for fighting. I’d never asked why. I think I was just happy Richard got grounded.”

Tristan chuckled. “He did. He spent the whole month texting me like he was writing from prison. You drove him nuts the entire time.”

“That sounds about right.” I grinned.

“And after we left school, he was just always there,” Tristan continued. “He was there when I got my first boyfriend at Oxford and was panicking because I didn’t know anything about gay sex.” He chuckled. “Not sure why I turned to Richard, but he’d had a string of girlfriends by then, so I think eighteen-year-old me figured he might know something.”

“I don’t think I need to know that.”

Tristan laughed. “Don’t worry. I figured it out.”

“And for that, I am very grateful.” I wanted to lean forward and kiss him, but my lip was still painful, and the taste of the baking powder paste smeared on the cut was bound to ruin the moment.

“Richard might be a dick, at least to you, but he cares,” Tristan said. “When I was in London on my ill-advised banking adventure back when I was trying to get my dad’s approval, I was so fucking miserable. But Richard was just there, on the other end of the phone, whenever I needed him. He was the one I’d call at two in the morning when they’d dragged me out clubbing and bought me strippers and were all off their faces on coke. Or when I was so stressed and tired from the long hours I could barely stand up, when I just wanted to lie down and not get back up again because the thought of going back to work made it hard to breathe. He was the one who finally convinced me to quit and move back here.” His lip twitched in a tiny smile. “I remember it so clearly. He came down to London one Friday night, took me to the pub, looked me dead in the eye, and said ‘You have to quit your job. If you don’t, it’s going to kill you’. He’s just always been there to protect me. I know it’s stupid, but your brother has always looked out for me, and I don’t think my life would be the same without him.”

I sat there for a moment, staring at Tristan, lost for words for the first time in my life. “I’m sorry,” I said, lamely. “I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t have to,” he said, reaching out and taking my hand, squeezing it tightly before lifting it to his mouth to kiss my grazed knuckles. “I’m just telling you so you know now. None of this changes your relationship with Richard or what’s happened between you over the years, but I wanted you to know he’s not always a complete twat. Misguided? Yes. But most of the time his heart’s in the right place.”

I squeezed his hand, taking comfort from the warmth of his skin against mine. There was still a lot about Tristan I didn’t know, and so much of that was tangled up in his friendship with Richard. But this felt like a step forward, and now I just wanted him to tell me everything—the good, the bad, and the ugly. I’d tell him the same.

There was something I had to do first though, and it was the one thing I’d avoided for as long as possible. I was going to have to have an honest-to-God conversation with my brother.

“I have to talk to him, don’t I?” I asked. Tristan nodded.

“Yes, you do.” He grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ve already told him he’s a twat and that I’m not some damsel in distress who needs him to rescue me, so you don’t need to remind him.”

“Curses. Foiled at the first hurdle.”

Tristan chuckled and leant forward to press another kiss to the top of my head. “I know you too well already.”

“You do.” I smiled, lowering my now soggy tea towel and tilting my head up to beg for a kiss—split lip be damned. I needed him to kiss me because I was rapidly coming to the realisation that I needed Tristan more than I needed anything or anyone else. Now probably wasn’t the right time or place to tell him though. It would be memorable, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him I loved him right after my brother had punched me in the face. Because I did… love him. I loved Tristan Rose more than life itself. It should have shocked me, but it didn’t. It just felt right, like something I’d been missing my whole life had finally slotted into place.

“What?” Tristan asked, looking at me with a raised eyebrow and a confused expression.

“Nothing,” I said. “Just thinking about how ridiculous this whole thing is.”

I could tell him later when it was just us. When I could lay him down and whisper the words against his skin like a prayer, sinking them into every kiss, every touch, like a spell.

There was a gentle tap on the dining room door, and Richard’s voice filtered in from the other side. “Can I come in?”

I sighed. It was now or never. “Yeah.”

The door creaked open—Mimbles really needed to oil the hinges—and Richard’s face appeared. I wanted to laugh at the spectacular black eye he was sporting, but I knew it would be best not to mention it. Not unless I wanted to start round two, and for Tristan’s sake I was going to try for civility.

“I’ll give you two some space,” Tristan said, standing up and giving me another kiss. He took the tea towel out of my hand. “I’ll get you some more ice.”

I watched him go, wishing I could convince him to stay. Richard shuffled through the door, closing it after Tristan but not coming much farther into the room. The awkwardness between us was palpable. I wanted to say something to cut the tension, but once again, I was convinced my mouth would get me into more trouble than it could handle. I could only take being punched in the face once a day.

“So,” I said.

“So…”

“I hear you once punched a guy called Adrian Belper in the face.” Richard stared at me for a second and then burst out laughing.

“Yeah, because he was being a knob,” he said. “He didn’t give me a black eye though.” He reached up to touch the swelling gingerly. “But I might have deserved this one.”

“You might.” I gestured to the chair Tristan had vacated. “You can sit down you know. I’m not going to bite.”

Richard opened his mouth as if he was going to say something but then thought better of it. He walked over to the chair and sat down. “So… you and Tristan.”

“Me and Tristan.”

“He says you met at work?”

“Yes,” I said slowly, wondering where this line of questioning was going. “I’m temping there for a year. Just covering someone’s maternity leave.”

“Cool. Is that the job you didn’t want to tell me about?” I squinted at him suspiciously, but Richard looked more hurt than anything.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He paused. “Why didn’t you say anything? Or want to say anything I guess would be the better question. Nobody else seemed that surprised. Did everyone know about you and Tristan?” He’d muddled a couple of questions together there, so I considered them for a second before starting to unpick them.

“Not everyone,” I said. “Lewis knew because he saw us together at one of my shows. Finn and Jules found out last week after Lewis sent them pictures of him and Tristan at the Halloween show I did.”

“Oh… okay.”

“But yes, everyone knew about the job, I think. I’m surprised nobody told you though. I thought they would.”

“Mum said she had to respect your wishes. Mimbles and Paul said they weren’t getting involved, and Dad said we needed to sort it out between us.” I hummed in surprise. I hadn’t expected that. “Am I… am I that bad that you didn’t want to tell me?”

“Richard,” I said, raising my eyebrows at him, “you know exactly what you’re like. I only took this job as a temporary thing, and I knew if you found out you’d go on and on about how I was finally growing up and settling down, or you’d start lecturing me about how admin work wasn’t good enough and how I should really make something of myself. And you’d definitely find a way to throw in how pleased you were I’d finally stopped prancing about on stage like a fool.”

Richard winced. I wondered if he’d ever thought through what he’d said to me and really considered how it came across. I guessed not.

“I know you think you have my best interests at heart, but it just makes you look like a dickhead. I mean, I know you think the root of all happiness is a stable career that contributes to society, but it’s not for everyone. You’re a fucking teacher for Christ’s sake. You’ve got to know everyone has different dreams. And mine is to not be a capitalist slave. Money is useful and all, but working an office job for the rest of my life sounds like pure hell. You’d never tell any of your students the shit you tell me.”

“Point taken,” he said. “I just… You’re my brother, and I want the best for you.”

“I know.” I smiled. “And for me, the best is strutting around on stage in seven-inch heels and a dress, wearing more make-up than the entire cast of Love Island. It’s what makes me happy, and I’m not gonna lie, I’m pretty fucking good at it.”

“Tristan said you’re amazing,” Richard said. “I’m sorry I’ve never seen one of your shows. I’m sorry for a lot of things.”

“Well, have no fear. There’s plenty of time yet. I’m not dead.”

Richard chuckled and then sighed. We still hadn’t really addressed the elephant in the room; we’d just tiptoed around the edge of it and pacified it with some sugar cane.

“What?” I asked. “Come on. Tell me. Since we’re being all honest and shit. What do you want to say? Or better yet, what is it about me that bothers you? There’s got to be something. And what is it about me and Tristan that makes you so upset? Because if you seriously think I’m with him just to hurt you, I will punch you again. I’m not that much of a bitch.”

“I don’t think that. At least, not anymore,” he said. “Tristan made it abundantly clear that train of thought makes me look like a knob.”

“Tristan is a smart cookie.”

“It’s… Things have always been so easy for you… at least from where I stood. You were smart and popular and charismatic. You could do anything. I mean, you got a fucking first-class law degree like you were picking apples off a tree. That’s something most people would kill for. And to me, it just seemed like you were throwing it all away, and I guess I never understood it.” He looked almost sad. I grimaced. I wanted to be angry with him, but I just couldn’t bring myself to be. From where Richard was standing, my life probably had looked easy, especially considering what I knew now about Tristan’s time at school.

“It must have hurt,” I said, attempting to extend an olive branch, “to see me skipping through school untouched, knowing Tristan had been bullied for being gay.”

“A little. That didn’t mean I wanted you to get hurt though.”

“No, but that doesn’t mean you don’t resent me a little. And I always accused you of not caring when deep down you did. Only your method of caring is different than mine, and mixing them together is like…” I tried to think of something explosive, but my days of GCSE Chemistry were so long ago I’d disposed of the information.

“It’s like putting alkali metals in water,” Richard said.

“Are they the ones that explode?”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “One of my professors at Reading once said that when he was a student, he stole a load of potassium from the chemistry labs and threw it in the water fountain on campus. I’m not sure how he managed it or avoided getting caught, but the resulting explosion destroyed the fountain and left a crater in the ground.”

“That’s us then.” I chuckled.

“Yeah, it is.”

“If it helps,” I said, “I think part of the reason I got angry with you was because I just wished you’d see me for the person I am, not the person you want me to be. You’re not my parent. I’ve got enough of those. You’re my brother, and it always irked me that you saw me as nothing but a disappointment.”

“It doesn’t help. I’m sorry though.” He sounded genuine, and for the first time in my life, I believed him.

“I’m sorry too.” I looked at him, trying—for the first time—not to see him as my enemy. As Tristan had said, Richard wasn’t deliberately a twat all the time. He was just misguided. He wanted the best for me, but he’d gone about it all wrong, and instead of talking to him, I’d just pushed his buttons because it was fun, which had just confirmed everything he thought he knew. I didn’t think we were ever going to be close, not like I was with Finn, Lewis, and Jules, or even Oscar, but maybe this was the first step towards a begrudging truce.

“What now?” Richard asked.

“Hopefully dinner,” I said. “I’m starving. But after that, who knows. I guess we just try not to kill each other.” Richard nodded. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to completely steal Tristan away, and I have no intention of gate-crashing your dinners together. He’ll still be your best friend. He’ll just be mine too.”

“Okay then.” Richard looked at me, a small smile crossing his lips. “I feel like I’d usually have to tell Tristan this since you’re my brother, but this is different.”

“Oooh, is this where I get the scary talking to? Don’t hurt your best friend, or they’ll never find my body?”

“Something like that.” He chuckled. “Take care of him. You’ll never find anyone else like him.”

My heart raced as I thought about Tristan, all my feelings exploding like a never-ending parade of fireworks. “For once, Richard, you’re actually right about something.”