6. Mark
6
MARK
B y the time I got home from the park, I felt like I was going to puke.
I stumbled up the steps and into Gigi’s house, grateful that her car wasn’t in the driveway and that she didn’t appear to be home. She’d take one look at me and want to talk, and while I normally loved spending time with her, I wasn’t sure I could form a coherent sentence right now.
I felt jittery, nervous. Like I was anticipating something, except it wasn’t anticipation at all. It was regret over something I’d just done. Something I wished I could take back. Something that was going to mess everything up.
I’d kissed Jesse.
Fuck.
I couldn’t decide if I should go upstairs and shower, go get a glass of water, or go call Jesse and apologize. If I showered, I’d just keep thinking about this. If I tried to get water, I was liable to break the glass, I was so amped up. And if I called Jesse—well, if I called him, I’d have to actually talk to him. Which freaked me out.
So instead of doing any one of those things, I paced in circles in the hallway like a hamster on a wheel.
Why had I done that? And what the hell was I supposed to do now?
My breath was getting shorter, coming in shallow bursts. It was worse than anything I’d felt on our run today, and I could tell this wasn’t normal. Fuck, I was starting to panic. That wasn’t good.
My eyes darted wildly around the hall, bouncing from the yellowed floral wallpaper to a paint-by-numbers landscape Gigi had probably hung up in the 1970s. The colors were swimming before my eyes.
I stumbled to the foot of the stairs at the end of the hall and collapsed on the lowest step, hanging my head between my knees. Deep breaths, in and out. Everything was okay. I was going to be okay. Inhale. Exhale. Breathe.
The ridiculous thing was that it wasn’t the kiss itself that had me freaking out. The kiss…the kiss was one of those movie kisses, where there should have been strings swelling and little bluebirds fluttering around us. If I pictured it happening to two other people, or even happening between me and Jesse in another life, it would have been nice. More than nice.
It had been hot. Hotter than I’d expected, to tell the truth, even with all the furtive jerk-off sessions I’d had over the past week where Jesse had snuck into my mind. I could still feel his soft lips moving under mine, his hands reaching up to pull me closer. It turned out he wanted me as badly as I’d wanted him. Who knew?
Sure, it was a little weird, kissing a guy. New. Different. But a good kind of different. Regardless of what it meant about my sexuality—I was still nowhere near ready to unpack that—I knew that given the chance, I’d want to do it again. Do that, and more.
But that was the problem.
Because it wasn’t just a kiss. Not to me, anyway. To me, it felt like more.
The fact of the matter was that I liked Jesse. A lot. And I could see myself starting to like like him, the more time I spent with him. Which was all fine and dandy for me. But not for him.
Jesse deserved someone great. He was just getting over a breakup. He should get to be with someone he could trust. Someone who could be there for him. And there was no way I could give him that. How could I, when I could barely hold myself together?
But what was I supposed to do now? The thought of having to talk to Jesse again made my heart feel like it was getting squeezed in a vise. He’d want to talk about what had just happened. Which was totally fair. But I didn’t have any good answers for him.
I had two options, if we talked. Option number one, I told him it had been a mistake, a joke, an accident, and that I wasn’t interested. I knew that would hurt him. Even if he wasn’t crushing on me as hard as I was on him, no one wanted to hear that.
But option number two was no better. Option number two required me telling him that it wasn’t a mistake. That I’d kissed him because I’d wanted to, because he was all I’d been able to think about for weeks. But that risked him saying the same thing back. And wanting to take things further. Not just physically, but emotionally.
Jesse had joked about me being closed-off, and he was right. I was nowhere near ready to tell him, or anyone, what was going on with me. Why I was really here in Savannah. It was too embarrassing. Besides which, even if he knew, it wouldn’t change anything. I couldn’t give him what he deserved. Any course of action where I opened up would only end up with me letting him down.
Either way, I was going to hurt the only friend I had in Savannah. A friend I cared about more than I’d ever expected. A friend I couldn’t stand the idea of losing—not when I’d just met him. Not when he was the first thing in my life in a long time that was just pure, unvarnished good.
Jesse might tease me for my mysterious past, but he couldn’t see why I was being mysterious. He didn’t know how much it meant to me to have someone who didn’t know about all the ways in which I was broken. Someone who didn’t expect more from me than I could give. He was the only person who I felt close to who wasn’t walking on eggshells around me, afraid I might snap at any moment.
Jesse made me feel sane.
How could I lose that?
My breath started to speed up again and I forced myself up, lurching through the hall toward the kitchen. My hands shook as I filled a glass of water from the tap and, after taking a wild gulp, set it down on the table. I sank into a chair and put my hands on my knees, starting to do multiplication tables in my head.
2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64, 128, 256, 510 —no, that wasn’t right. It was 64, 128, 256, 512 , that was it. I kept going, letting the numbers run through my mind until they got so big that I started to lose track of the digits in the ones place. Finally, my breathing slowed back to its normal rhythm.
I took another swallow of water and picked up my cell phone, staring at the screen. I’d been going to appointments with my new therapist for a few weeks now and—surprise surprise—her number one recommendation was to try to talk to people more. Not to isolate myself, or bottle things up.
I wasn’t used to sharing these parts of myself with people—the parts I was ashamed of and wished would go away. But I couldn’t think of anything else to do in this situation. And I didn’t want to have a full-blown panic attack in the middle of Gigi’s kitchen.
I dialed Gabe’s number and waited for him to pick up.
“Hey buddy, what’s up?” As usual, his voice rose up from the general din around him. Was there ever a time when he wasn’t surrounded by a group of twenty guys? “We’re doing kegs and eggs at Riley’s before the game.”
Evidently not.
“Of course you are,” I said, smiling weakly.
“Hey, gotta live while you’re young, right?”
“I should let you get back to it,” I said, already feeling dumb for calling. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You’re not interrupting, man,” Gabe protested. “Besides, it’s been weeks since I’ve heard from you. I want to know what’s up.”
Of course he did. That was the problem with Gabe. Despite the general frat guy air about him, he was a genuine friend. And now I’d feel bad if I didn’t tell him.
“It’s stupid.”
“I doubt that.”
“Well, it seems stupid now, anyway.”
“How ‘bout you tell me what the thing is, and let me decide if it’s stupid?”
I sighed. “I was just—I guess I kind of have a problem, and I wanted to talk it out. I thought maybe you could—”
“Say no more,” Gabe cut in. “Just let me get outside. Hey, put bacon in mine!”
I assumed that last bit wasn’t directed at me.
“So what’s up?” Gabe asked as the noise died down behind him.
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “This really does feel stupid, but I was kind of starting to freak out, and my therapist said that it could help to talk about things, instead of boxing them up. So I called you.”
“Makes sense, makes sense,” Gabe said. “Like opening a window so you can let the cool air in, get some fresh perspective.”
“Technically it’s actually hot air flowing out in that scenario,” I said. “Cold air doesn’t have as much energy, so it’s the hot air that—” I stopped, cutting myself off when I realized Gabe was laughing on the other end of the line. “Is there something funny about the laws of thermodynamics?”
“Sorry,” he said with a chuckle. “Not laughing at you. It’s just, isn’t it the same thing? For this purpose, at least? Like, it’s just as good if you wanna get metaphorical. Letting hot air out still works for the analogy.”
“Far be it from me to care about your grasp of basic scientific principles.”
“Oh, is that what you were doing? You were trying to educate me, not just trying to avoid talking about the reason you called?”
“I’m beginning to regret calling at all.”
“Of course you are. But you’re still gonna tell me, because I’m just gonna call you back and bother you if you don’t.”
I rolled my eyes. I’d forgotten how annoying Gabe could be. Annoying, but also right.
“Fine. Remember how a few weeks ago, the last time we talked, I said I would go out to a bar and like, try to meet people?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I met someone.”
“Nice,” Gabe said. “That was fast. But I support it. Okay, so tell me about her. What’s her name?”
I paused. Up until now, I’d been planning on telling this story using gender-neutral pronouns. But suddenly, that just seemed tiring. And the whole point of calling Gabe was to tell him what was going on in my head. So maybe I should actually tell him. If he got really weird about it, I could always hang up, right?
“Jesse,” I said after a moment. “ His name is Jesse.”
“Damn.” Gabe whistled appreciatively. “Hey, way to go. Good for you, man.”
“What?”
“That’s awesome.”
“Really? You’re happy for me?” I was baffled. I hadn’t exactly expected Gabe to be outright hostile about it, but I definitely hadn’t been prepared for him to react so positively. “You know I’ve never dated guys before, right?”
“Of course I think it’s awesome. It’s awesome that you’ve met anyone, whatever their gender. But yeah, I actually think it’s kind of cool that you’re dating a guy. Most people go their whole lives closed off to new possibilities, never thinking that they could expand their horizons.”
“Huh. Okay.”
Gabe barked a laugh. “Should I be insulted that you’re so surprised? I know I’m kind of an idiot, but I’m not an asshole, you know?”
“You’re not,” I said, smiling. “You’re not either of those things. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be surprised. And thanks.”
“Don’t worry about it. So. You met a guy. Why do I feel like there’s a but coming?”
Before I could answer, he started to laugh.
“What?” I asked.
“Butt. Coming. Heh.”
I snorted. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re lying if you say that that didn’t kind of make you laugh.”
“It was a pity laugh. I didn’t want you to feel bad about your fourth-grade sense of humor.”
“And there you were, just telling me I’m not an idiot. But we’re getting off track here. What’s the problem? Do you not like this guy anymore?”
“No, I definitely like him. That is the problem. We were just friends, and everything was fine, and I didn’t think I was going to do anything about it, but then today, I kissed him by accident, and—”
“How do you kiss somebody by accident?”
“I don’t know, it just happened. We were in the park, and he tripped me, and I practically fell on top of him—”
“Oh kill me now, that’s like, sickeningly cute.”
“—And I just got caught up in the moment and I…I kissed him. And now I’m freaking out.”
“Because you kissed a guy?” Gabe sounded incredulous.
“No, because I kissed Jesse . And he’s my friend. He’s like, the only person I know here and besides, I like him.”
“Yeah, you said. So what’s the problem? Does he not like you ?”
“No! I think he does.” I sighed. “ That’s the problem.”
“You seem to think a lot of things are problems that really don’t appear to be, from my point of view. You like him, he likes you. Isn’t that kind of the ideal situation?”
“No, because if he really does like me, what if he wants to date or something? I can’t do that. But I don’t want to tell him I don’t want to date, because I don’t want to hurt him, but I feel like I’m going to, no matter what I do.
“You’re overthinking this,” Gabe said. “Seriously.”
“Not really. I just never should have kissed him. What the fuck did I think I was doing?”
“You know, you were right, back at the beginning of this call, when you said it was stupid. Because that is stupid. You definitely should have kissed him. Good things come from saying yes to opportunities.
“That's easy for you to say,” I grumbled. “Everyone likes you. You’re normal. People want you to say yes to them. I, on the other hand, shouldn’t say yes to people.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Besides, you don’t have to make a huge decision now. Why don’t you just tell him you like him, and you want to keep hanging out, but you’re not sure you’re ready for a relationship?”
“Because that’s never worked in the history of time, ever? It’ll sound like a brush-off. And I’m not brushing him off. I’m just…” I trailed off, unable to articulate how certain I was that that would make me sound like the world’s biggest asshole.
“It won’t sound like a brush-off if you mean it.”
“I think you’re being overly optimistic because literally no one has ever said something like that to you. So you don’t know how this works.”
“You can think what you want, dude, but I’m pretty sure this is your best option. Aside from, you know, actually telling him about what’s going on with you,” Gabe added. “That could work too.”
“So that he can back away from me slowly, like I’m a bomb about to go off, and then never talk to me again? Thanks, I’ll pass.”
“If he’s actually your friend, he won’t do that.”
“You sound like a Dr. Seuss book.”
“Hey, there’s some wise shit in those books.”
There was a loud crash in the background, and the sound of something breaking. I winced, even though I couldn’t see what had happened. It didn’t sound good.
“Hey, man, I think I might need to go,” Gabe said after a moment’s silence. “It looks like Brian fell head-first off the porch and into a garbage can.”
“Typical Brian.” Not that I knew him that well, but it sounded about right. “Alright, go eat your bacon scrambled eggs or whatever. And thanks.”
“Bacon scrambled eggs? What?”
“Didn’t you tell someone to put bacon in yours, before you came outside?”
“ Oh . Nah, that was for my Bloody Mary.”
I shook my head and hung up. Was I really going to take advice from a guy who was drinking his breakfast foods, surrounded by people who dove into trash cans for fun? That seemed questionable.
On the other hand, I couldn’t think of any better alternatives. I ran the risk of fucking things up with Jesse no matter what I did, but following Gabe’s advice was probably my best chance that Jesse would be willing to speak to me ever again.
Because it didn’t matter that I’d known Jesse for less than a month—I’d already gotten to the point where I couldn’t imagine not getting to see him anymore. So what other choice did I have?