With Or Without You

Chapter Three: The Ground Beneath Her Feet

“Hellooo!” Ian said when he picked up the phone.

“It’s about damned time we had a proper conversation,” she announced. He laughed.

“So I’m trying to figure out who else goes to that university. Besides Phelpsy.”

“Aaron.”

“Who’s Aaron?”

“Peirsol.”

“He doesn’t go to Michigan.”

“Yeah he does, love. Transferred this semester, or so he told me. Christ, I feel like his spokesman.”

“Spokesperson,” Ian corrected.

“Thanks, Butthead.”

“No problem. So Peirsol transferred to Michigan, eh?”

“Yup.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed.

“Ian,” Clare said, a tone of warning in her voice. “You spend entirely too much time online reading fanfiction about yourself. And about you and Michael, which is, frankly, disgusting. Don’t go getting ideas. Your head’s big enough as it is.” She paused and then continued before Ian could get a word in. “And you know which head I’m talking about, you pervert, and don’t forget I’m your cousin.”

Ian was hysterical on the other end of the line. “Remind me why I like you? You’re nasty.”

“Someone has to keep you grounded.”

“True. Being an international sex god can inflate a man’s ego.” Clare rolled her eyes. “I love that by now I can hear you roll your eyes.”

“That is just weird.”

“I know. So how’s the lovely Ali?”

Clare glanced over to her friend, who was reading. “Not bad. Survived her first encounter with Michael Phelps in one piece. She’s studying.”

“How about him? Did he make it out in one piece?”

“Yes he did. Though I think he was flirting with me. Odd.”

“What are you talking about? Ever since you dyed your hair and got rid of those glasses, you’re gorgeous. Hell, if you weren’t my cousin, I’d shag you.”

“Ian, you’ll shag anything with tits,” she said.

“That is beside the point. Also, you have tits and I won’t shag you.”

“Cousin,” she reminded him.

“Right. Anyway, the point of this is that it’s not odd at all for Michael to flirt with you as you’re gorgeous. And he’s nineteen.”

“Thank you so much, oh Source of All Wisdom.”

“Shut up. So what did he say?”

“Well, first I almost broke his nose. I smashed my head against his in my second class of the day, only I didn’t recognize him.”

“You didn’t – Oh right. I forgot. You used to bring novels to my swim competitions. You geek.”

“Bugger off,” she muttered. “So accidentally, I hit his head, but he said he was ok. And apparently he and Aaron are roommates – like Ali and I are, not like in fanfiction, you sicko – so they stopped by and I was, of course, wearing the T-shirt of my future husband–”

“You’re not serious. You were wearing a Clay Aiken T-shirt?”

“Yes, sir. And quite proudly, I might add.”

“You’re insane. You know he’s gay, right?”

“Many people think you’re gay, Ian.”

“I know,” he said, a smile in his voice.

“Oh god, are you telling me you are? Or that you swing both ways?”

“No,” Ian said. “I just think it’s funny. Anyway, go on.”

“Right. So Michael goes, ‘you’re pretty enough to turn him straight.’”

“Me?”

“No, Clay! Sometimes I don’t know why I bother talking to you.”

Ian laughed. “You love me.”

“You wish.”

“Interesting. So Mikey’s got a crush. I’ll have to call him and warn him off my cousin.”

“I don’t even like him that much. He’s nice enough, but I’m more–”

“Into the gay, wimpy type. Who sing.”

“You know, one of these days I’ll meet Clay, and who’s to say he won’t fall in love with me?” There was silence for almost a whole minute until Ian burst out laughing. “Haha,” Clare said bitterly. “I’m hanging up now.”

“No, wait. I’m sorry. I just love to push your buttons. You’re so easy.”

“One of these days I will hang up on you, and then you’ll see who’s easy, Mr. I-Have-Sex-With-Everything-In-My-Path-And-Read-Gay-Fanfiction-Starring-Myself.”

“You read it too, and the correct term is slash,” he informed her, saying the last word slowly so she’d understand.

“Thanks. If you were here I’d be giving you a dirty look. And I don’t read slash fanfiction starring myself. Or my cousin, for that matter, as I am not famous.”

“You read about those two pansies from Harry Pocket or whatever it’s called.”

“Don’t you start on Harry Potter. I always win that argument.”

Ian laughed. “You’re right. I give up already. Anyway, I’ve got to run and do a quick swim. I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

“Yeah, you tosser. I can’t seem to get rid of you.”

“You know you love me.”

“Sometimes. Though I don’t know why.”

“Ciao, cousin,” Ian said before he was gone.

Clare flipped over and screamed into her pillow.

“I don’t know why you bother with him.”

“Me either. One of these days I’m not going to reply and he’s going to be very sad.”

“I know. Who will he make fun of?”

Clare picked up her extra pillow and hurled it at Ali, who just laughed.