Number 52 pynch
Ronan meeting Adamâs college friends.
Tom hasnât heard a lot about Adam Parrishâs boyfriend. He knows three things for sure: Adam Parrishâs boyfriend is named Ronan, heâs a farmer, and he likes fast cars.
Adam had been surprised when he got to college and met Tom. âSorry, I thoughtâI thought my roommate was going to be Theresa Mayhew?â
Tom flushed. âNo,â he said. âNo, my nameâs Tom. Tom Mayhew.â
âSorry,â Adam said. âMy mistake. Nice to meet you.â He sounded like he meant it.Â
Tom shrugged, but he had to ask. âDid you request gender-neutral housing?â
Adam paused in the middle of unfolding his fitted sheet. âYeah,â he said. A hint of an accent had crept into his voice. âYou know. I didnât want to room with someone who would freak out about having a gay roommate.â
Tom nodded. â100% guaranteed no-queer freakout zone. Unless Iâm freaking out, but that just happens normally sometimes.â
Adam laughed. âShould I cover you with a blanket and make you tea?â
Tom liked him already. âSomething like that.â
So now Adamâs boyfriend is coming to visit. Adam seems to be alternating between excited and nervous about it. Tom learns two more things about Ronan: âHeâs not the most talkative guyâ and âHeâs a little bit of an asshole.âÂ
Adam plays Tom the Murder Squash Song, just to acclimate him. Tom catches himself singing it at random times.
Finally, itâs the day of Ronanâs arrival. Adam isnât checking his phone, but he is doing the thing Tomâs uncleâs bird dog does when it catches a scent, starting to vibrate with eagerness.
Adamâs phone chirps. âHeâs finding parking.â
Tom looks up from his chemistry homework. âCool cool cool. Do you want me to clear out for a couple of hours, so you canâ?â He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.
âMaybe?â Adam says. He looks a bit pink. âWell, um. Yeah. But you donât have to run out of here now. Meet him, first.â
âSure,â Tom says, but he starts to pack his backpack anyway. Couples, he thinks.
Adamâs phone chirps again. Adam flings himself out the door, which bangs shut behind him. Heâs forgotten his keys.
About five minutes later, the door handle rattles. âYou locked yourself out,â Tom calls, not looking up from his textbook.
âI know,â Adam says. âCould you let us in?â
Tom gets up, muttering. He opens the door.
If Adam is handsome, itâs in a faded, Civil War soldier kind of way. Adam has tired eyes and near-invisible eyebrows and fading freckles. Heâs as vivid as a sepia photograph. The tall boy behind himâRonanâis handsome in an entirely different way. His eyes are electric blue and alive under dark eyebrows. His hair is buzzed short and heâs wearing a worn leather jacket over dark jeans.
He follows Adam into the room.Â
âHi,â Tom says. He holds out his hand.
Ronan shakes it. His grip is firm and dry.Â
âRonan,â Adam says. âTom. Tom, Ronan.â
âDid you have a good drive?â Tom asks.
Ronan stretches and bends, working the kinks out of his back. âYes,â he says.
âDid you get any speeding tickets?â Adam asks. He sits on the edge of his bed.Â
Ronan pauses in the process of taking his boots off, and looks up at Adam from under his eyebrows. âI successfully avoided highway patrol.â
âThank goodness,â Adam says. Ronan sits next to him on the bed.
Tom takes this as his cue to go. âIâm heading off to the library,â he says to them both, and then to Adam, âText me if you want to meet up for dinner?â
âSure,â Adam says. Heâs already leaning against Ronan, his shoulder pressing into the other boyâs as if pulled by an invisible gravity. Tom closes the door softly behind him.
