“No, I don’t,” Tobias said, earnest enough that Sullivan believed him. “I just think it’s odd because you’re clearly well-read and interested in learning. College seems like a natural choice for you.”
“I thought so too, which is why I tried it. But college wanted me to pick one thing to learn about and then take a bunch of tests, and I’m more of an eclectic, non-test-taking sort. So. We broke up. And if you consider the hell I put my professors through with all my off-topic questions, it was probably mutual.”
“Oh. I thought maybe it was a money thing.”
“Well, my parents weren’t going to manage six college funds on their salaries, so it didn’t help. I don’t know. Might’ve given it a better try if I hadn’t been fighting so hard to pay for things, but it seemed stupid to put that much cash and effort into getting something I wasn’t sure I wanted.”
Tobias chewed on his lip, a slight pinch to his features.
Sullivan said, “Not much point in you feeling guilty for having access to an education I turned down, you know.”
“I’m paying for most of it on my own,” Tobias said. “My parents matched me my first couple of years so I wouldn’t drain my savings, but yeah, I know how expensive it is. Everyone should have access to education. Everyone.”
“Says the newly dropped out.”
Tobias’s lips quirked into a small, dawning smile. “It’s a sign of how out of my head I am that I like the sound of that. I think education’s important, but...”
Sullivan studied him thoughtfully as Tobias considered his words. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Tobias’s description of himself: out of my head. Tobias could be in sub-drop. Endorphins and adrenaline were magical things—they got people through marathons and rescuing babies from tigers and...well, nothing else was springing to mind, but the point was that sex in the scene could produce a lot of the same chemical changes in the blood and brain that dangerous or physically taxing activities could, and eventually, when those chemicals were filtered out, a person’s emotional state could drop into the toilet until things settled. Aftercare was crucial post-scene to help with that, because in addition to feeling shitty, occasionally drop ended with people doing wacky things.
Sullivan could’ve kicked himself. He should’ve stayed in bed and cuddled, been there to reassure Tobias that everything was fine. Or maybe not, since cuddling wasn’t casual and he needed a hormone condom, but at the very least he could’ve gotten the guy a glass of water and told him that he’d done everything right.
Maybe this wasn’t about school at all. Maybe this was a sign of bad treatment from—
“I hate medicine,” Tobias blurted, jolting Sullivan out of his thoughts. “I’ve hated it for years.”
“Sounds like you’re making a good choice, then.” Sullivan let out a slow breath. Not chemical.
“I’ve never admitted it. It’s been getting worse. It’s worse than it was in high school, and I thought that was the low point, and I never said anything.”
Sullivan tilted his head, considering the speech Tobias had given him yesterday about how much he hated being left behind while other people made the decisions. “You’re naturally sort of repressed, huh?”
Tobias’s brows settled low over his eyes. Sullivan was on the verge of apologizing—it had been rude—when Tobias said, with fresh, untried iron in his voice, “Not anymore.”
Sullivan was starting to realize that Tobias was a far more complicated guy than he appeared to be. The blackmail and breaking and entering said asshole, but none of it—including the running away from home and the kinky sex—fit the image that Tobias painted of himself in the moments when he talked about his past. In those moments he was a guy who had to work up the nerve to express anger at his parents and spent most of his time swallowing his feelings and followed an academic path he hated for...for some reason that wasn’t clear. But the point was that instead of the asshole Sullivan had thought he was dealing with, Tobias was looking more and more like a decent guy in the middle of some crisis of character. In fact, Sullivan was starting to suspect that he was part of some elemental rebellion that existed outside the bounds of Tobias’s natural personality.
Further proof that this whole thing between them was temporary.
Tobias would revert. People always did.
Chapter Fifteen
Tobias’s pancakes were cold, but he didn’t care. He could’ve been eating paper and he wouldn’t have minded.
He wasn’t going back.
Sullivan kept staring at him with mild interest, like he was expecting fireworks to explode out of Tobias’s head or something. It wasn’t a bad read of Tobias’s emotional state; a kernel of revolt burned red-hot in his chest. He wanted a ridiculous number of ridiculous things suddenly—to go on a bender at a grimy bar; to pick a fight in a parking lot against a trucker twice his size; to drive in a random direction for hours with the radio as loud as it could get, not stopping until he hit something golden and strange. He could do any of those things or none of them; the only restraint, he realized, was him. His own limits of have to and don’t be selfish.
It was a small change, objectively. Lots of people dropped out of school. But when Sullivan had mentioned class and that old sense of dread had risen again, it had occurred to him that he could just...not...go. He was twenty-four, not twelve. He wasn’t going to get in trouble. He didn’t have to go, he didn’t want to go, and so he wouldn’t. And with that choice, he’d forged some new, blazing ground inside himself. Maybe he was exploding. It certainly felt like the old Tobias had been permanently destroyed.
He had to clench his fingers around his silverware again to avoid chucking them gleefully through the air. He could only imagine how Sullivan might look at him then, but that wasn’t why he
