Chapter 32 A Kick in the Nutsack
thirty-two
a kick in the nutsack
Even though I think I know what to expect when I answer the door, part of me is still surprised to see Damien standing there. He must have been let in through my grandma’s house, but I’m mostly shocked that he’s here at all.
“Um, hi,” I say to him, blinking rapidly.
His hands are shoved in his coat pockets, as usual. “Can I come in for a minute?” he asks. I think he’s nervous. “I don’t have to stay, I just…I need to apologize.”
I nod and step aside to let him in, but when I close the door behind him, he stays standing in the entryway, not making a move to take off his shoes or anything. “You can actually come in,” I tell him.
What I don’t do is tackle him in a bear hug because I’m so happy to see him—he’d been kind of a jerk and I probably should hear his apology first, even though I’m already way past that. I don’t even care. He’s here.
I walk towards the living room to sit on the couch, and he follows shortly after, once he’s taken off his shoes and jacket by the door.
“Okay, so…” he says when he sits, wiping his palms over his knees, like his hands are sweating. “I realize I shouldn’t have just avoided you for three days—even though you have totally done that to me, by the way—”
A breath of laughter escapes me, and he glances at me with a small smile.
“And I think I get why you didn’t say anything when people were asking you to denounce me,” he continues. “Side note: everyone was being totally over the top about this, right? It’s not just me who thinks it’s crazy?”
“No, they were completely rabid,” I agree. “Everyone whipping each other up into a panic because they didn’t want to think that they’d been watching someone Problematic—TM—this whole time.”
“I mean, the fact is, I do still see my father, like on holidays and stuff, even if I’d rather not,” he admits, and he does seem a bit ashamed of it. “And I guess if I were a better person, I would just cut him out, since I don’t agree with him on any of that—”
“You can’t just cut out your family, like it’s nothing. Anyone who asks you to without knowing the full story is a jerk.”
“I guess.” He shrugs solemnly. “It’s not like it really matters. I can’t stop people from thinking what they want to think, all I can do is keep going, right?”
I take his hand in mine and nod reassuringly.
“Anyway. I’m sorry I was being an ass to you,” he adds, squeezing my hand back. “It’s not like the situation was any more pleasant from where you were sitting, I’m sure. And I probably should have been the one to stand up for myself, not make it your problem.”
“The thing is, I wanted to stand up for you. I just didn’t know if I was supposed to. I didn’t know what I was allowed to say. So, in the end, I just let your actions speak for both of us.”
“Which was such a cheesy thing to do.” He laughs lightly, shaking his head. “But thank you.”
“I don’t know if it worked—I’ve been too afraid to read my notifications yet,” I say. “But I did notice some people seem to have come around, on your stream.”
“Well, it got me out of my self-pity spiral enough to stream again, so I think I’d say it worked.”
“I’m glad.”
“This whole situation…” His brow furrows pensively.
“Well, it was kind of a kick in the nutsack, to borrow a phrase,” he adds, and I snort.
“Like, it woke me up to the fact that, even though all I do is stream a silly fantasy RPG seven days a week, my actions still have consequences. My choices still matter.”
“You make good choices, though.”
“Sometimes.”
“Like you said the other day, we’re all figuring it out and we all screw up sometimes, but that doesn’t make us devils, or whatever,” I tell him. “Just…people.”
He grimaces, like that’s the worst thing to be, and I laugh. “I’m not good at…people,” he says.
“I think you’re better at people than you think you are.” He looks at me with a small smile and I cup my hand to the side of his face. “You’re good at me, anyway.”
His face splits into a dorky grin at the ridiculousness of my words and I laugh again. “You say the weirdest things,” he says. “I love it.”
“Yeah?” I lean towards him like I’m going in for a kiss, but I stop with barely an inch between our mouths. “What else do you love?”
His eyes scan my face, and he chews his lip. “I think you know.”
“Yeah, I do.” I lick my own lips as I watch his and then look him in the eye. “Hadley.”
The corner of his mouth pinches into a smirk. “Exactly.”
This time, he’s the one who kisses me first. Like he trusts that I won’t let him do anything I’m not comfortable with. That I’ll stand up for myself and what I want. That he doesn’t have to tip-toe around me, like I’m fragile and helpless.
I think we’re figuring it out.
Together.