Until We Sort This Out

By Mere Rain

Cato and Roy have lived in the same dorm all through college. They know each other, but they’re not quite friends. Roy is hard-working and responsible. Cato likes parties, pranks, and skipping class. Now in their junior year, Roy is the dorm RA and is supposed to keep everyone else out of trouble. Half his job seems to be telling Cato to be quiet.

When Cato is faced with a family emergency, Roy is the first to offer to help. And when a social worker is reluctant to assign Cato custody of his minor sister, Roy finds himself claiming to be Cato's fiancé. It's a harmless lie, but as the bureaucratic process unfolds, Roy and Cato realize they'll have to keep up the pretense of being a couple for a while.

Roy thinks they can be convincing. Cato isn’t sure he’s still pretending.

• Language: English
• Publisher: JMS Books LLC
• Release date: Nov 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9781685503253

Book preview

Chapter 1

Roy

Roy’s phone lit up with yet another dorm resident texting to complain about the noise in the hall. As if he couldn’t hear it for himself. He saved his notes, just in case—Roy always saved—and went to the door.

Roy stepped into the hall and was instantly covered in glitter.

He blinked his watering eyes a few times and looked around. Not for the culprit—he could guess that—but to assess how much cleaning the hallway would need.

Not that much. The glitter was mostly on Roy.

Which meant Cato had planned it that way.

Roy sighed loudly as Cato crowed and danced in place, clutching his head and making his messy crimson hair even messier.

Cato…

I’m bringing color to your drab existence, Roy! Cato said. You’re welcome!

Bedazzle the world more quietly, okay? Your peers are trying to study and sleep.

"How can they study and sleep?" Cato’s mouth twitched at the corners with the effort not to laugh.

It doesn’t matter, Cato, because it’s after midnight and it’s a weeknight and therefore Quiet Hours are in force.

Roy had said this exact sentence to Cato at least once a week since the school year began two months ago. It felt longer.

It’s Thursday, Roy! The day before Friday! That’s practically the weekend!

The Residence Assistant rolled his eyes. Well, keep it down for those of us who are planning to go to our morning classes.

People go to those?

That’s why the university schedules them, Cato.

I thought it was a cruel practical joke.

You think discipline is a joke, Roy said. No one’s forcing you to attend class. Just be quiet.

I’m not sure I’m physically capable of being quiet.

Roy started to rub his eyes, but remembered the glitter and smoothed his hair instead. Be enough quieter that your neighbors stop complaining, okay? Please?

Cato sighed heavily and dramatically. I’ll try. As a special favor to you, because I love you so.

Thank you, Cato. I appreciate that.

If you appreciate me, then can I have a cookie?

"May you have a cookie."

Yes, I may, Cato said firmly. Snickerdoodle.

Roy sighed, but reached around the door frame for the tin he kept on the shelf next to the first-aid kit. He held the cookies out, saying, Residents who cause trouble during Quiet Hours only get calming raisin bran biscuits.

Cato pouted ostentatiously. This is how you reward those who love you? No wonder you’re single, Roy.

You’re right, Cato. Being a responsible, hard-working person who can cook is obviously why I’m single. Here’s your cookie.

You really won’t give me a snickerdoodle? I know you made some. I smelled them baking. The exaggerated expression shifted to something that looked more genuine. You’re really mad?

The corner of Roy’s mouth twitched. No, I’m just out of snickerdoodles.

The pout softened. You’d give me one if you had them, though?

Probably, Roy admitted. Now stop talking in the hall. Good night.

Roy shut the door to his dorm room.

Cato flung himself against it, shouting, I wish I could quit you, Roy!

Roy shook his head. Glitter fell onto the black-on-white pages of his textbook.

He smiled and left it there.

Chapter 2

Cato

Honk, hoooonk.

Roy threw open his door.

Where did Cato even get a tuba? Cato knew he was thinking.

Cato! Can you please stop making so much noise?

But it’s Friday! In the middle of the day! Cato set down the stolen, err, borrowed tuba so he could gesture emphatically with both hands.

"I’m not telling you to be silent, Cato. Just quieter. Live at a normal volume."

Normal? So biased. You’re oppressing my natural identity. That’s hurtful. I expected you, as my RA, to be more supportive.

What about respecting your fellow humans who are naturally more studious and less loud? Shouldn’t you support their mental health needs by either lowering your volume or being loud outside in the copious open space of the quad?

Why is that on me? Can’t they—

Cato! Don’t make me write you up again.

Cato had gotten a notice last time, a warning that he might have to meet with the Residence Life Committee. Snore.

Cato saluted him. Reducing volume by one decibel Herr Kommandant RA, sir!

He turned on his heel and began to goose-step stiffly down the hall, toward nowhere particular.

Cato! Take the tuba with you! Roy called after him.

He did an about-face, spinning too hard and almost falling over, and marched back toward Roy.

His phone chimed and he raised it in two stiff, soldierly gestures.

Cato! DuFour! Speaking! he belted.

Mr. DuFour, this is Ms. Monica Pelley from the Department of Child Welfare Services. Isabel DuFour listed you as her next of kin now that her mother is currently incarcerated due to a domestic incident—

Cato? Cato!

Warm hands closed on his upper arms, and the dull roar in his ears subsided enough for him to hear Roy saying his name. Roy’s hazel eyes were wide with concern.

I don’t—my mom—the lady said my sister— Cato had dropped his phone on the ugly grayish-brown industrial carpet of the hallway. It was flashing at him.

Roy picked it up. He put an arm around Cato and firmly steered him into Roy’s room. He kicked the door shut behind them and sat them both on the bed.

Put your head down and breathe slowly, Roy ordered, placing a hand on