Mosdenea

Chapter 32--Mirages Eventually Fade

I felt like I was part of an elaborate conspiracy theory. Or maybe a patient in a hospital where my doctors are on the sidelines—discussing the best way to tell me bad news. Aaron and Pierce took their time continuously whispering to each other in the most conspicuous manner. Ever since Phillip stopped by, the boys began to lay low. Adventures were cut off. Aaron didn't ride his motorcycle. And Pierce was stuck either on campus or at home. Neither of them seemed to go out anymore unless it meant work or studies. Occasionally the beach—but only because it was a walk away.

Phillip hadn't stopped by since. Which I guess in the broad spectrum of things is good news. But I was stuck in the awkward position of watching the boys whisper behind my back. They probably thought I didn't hear or see. It'd have been easier for them—and me—I was just deaf or blind. That way we all wouldn't have to pretend everything was ok. It sure wasn't.

The most shocking thing was the lack of adventures Aaron went on. He used to be energetic—in his own way. An Indian Jones of his kind. Now he would just stay at home and work on the construct and information of the skyscraper. He stays on phone calls and meetings almost all-day long. If he's not at home, he's at his "office." A room that Cole Parris gave him to use to keep his work in order.

The lack of Aaron's motorcycle rides also seemed to depress him further. His nightly excursions through the city seemed to be part of his routine, but now it was eliminated. He didn't like to show he was anxious to get on his bike, but after driving around in his rented 911 Porsche for a few days—he would longingly stare at his Yamaha whenever we would walk through the parking lot in the mornings.

If I was being honest, I didn't know how to handle the situation. Aaron and I seemed fine—relationship wise. He'd still sleep with me at night and at dinner he would share his occasional smile. But I knew there was shift in his mood and I wasn't the only one that noticed.

"Is he ok?" I asked Pierce one day when we were driving to class. "I'm worried Pierce."

Pierce took a deep breath, "Everything is fine Parker."

"That's a lie."

He looked at me from the corner of his eye and returned his sullen gaze on the road. "I know," Pierce finally said softly. "I want to make Aaron feel better too but there's not much to do."

"He's your brother."

"He's your boyfriend. You should be able to cheer him up a lot better than I ever could." Pierce smirked. I punched his shoulder lightly. He smiled and for a second—a moment—everything seemed ok.

Unable to figure out what was going on, I went to what I know best: I drowned myself in my work. I studied every day for hours on end. Kellie, Jackson, and I would have sessions at the coffee shop or the library almost daily. If I wasn't studying I would be at the salon working. Whenever I was at home, I would crack open a textbook next to Aaron as he quickly typed on his laptop or talked over the phone.

Pierce made fun of us. Over dinner one night he said people with stress typically go to the gym. Have sex. Or just eat their life away. He joked about how Aaron and I were perfect for each other. Both of us digging into our work and studies to deal with all the pressure around us. We were workaholics. But we were workaholics together. Which I guess would make it seem just a bit more romantic than it sounded.

Aaron would smile at us. He would act himself whenever it was late at night. The moment the sun set and the stars joined the moon, he would relax. But even then, it was hard for him to be himself. He was distant. Quiet. It reminded me of when I first met Aaron. If we stayed out of his way, he would stay out of ours.