15 #2
“It wasn’t from a college in Ottowa,” Marin told him. “I don’t remember where, but I remember going to classes. I never managed to go back for a bachelor’s degree, but I really wanted to.” He turned to Blake. “You have a BA in psychology, right? What got you into that?”
Blake puffed out a breath, burying his hands in his pockets despite the warm summer air. He leaned back and stared up at the blurry stars.
“Like I was saying yesterday, I was brought up in foster care,” he started.
“My mom died of birth complications and my dad was deeply into drugs. Since all my grandparents died before I was born and my dad couldn’t get clean, I went into the system when I was four after the whole almost-drowning incident.
“Growing up I would help counsel a lot of my foster siblings,” he explained. “I don’t know how it started, but it sort of became a thing.
“Through that, I realized I really liked helping people, even if I’m never good at taking my own advice,” he said.
“I’ve always tended to bottle up my feelings and over-compartmentalize, if I’m being honest. But I liked to be able to see others solve their problems and become stronger and better equipped for it.
I did it a lot for my friends growing up, too. But…”
Blake trailed off and it was his turn to scrub his hand over his face.
“I started making really stupid choices in middle school.
After his mom died in a car accident, Matt got into a lot of trouble, so the rest of our friend group did, too.
We cut class, smoked weed, vandalized property, all sorts of crap.
By the time I was a sophomore in high school we were into some pretty deep shit.
That was when Matt and I started dating.
“My foster dad Isko and my case manager Elise were really worried about me. I ended up getting arrested for vandalism and having to do a bunch of community service. I realized that I was causing them more trouble than I thought I was worth, and I… I had a bad summer that year, trust me.” Blake laughed without humor.
Marin reached out to steady him with a hand on his shoulder.
“Once I got back to school I decided to clean up my act,” Blake told him.
“I really buckled down on improving my grades and getting into extracurriculars so that I could get into a good college. My friend Jace was in the same boat and we really managed to help each other out—he’s studying to be a dental hygienist now, of all things.
“Unfortunately, Matt was still really entrenched in the delinquent shit,” he went on. “We were still dating at the time, but I could tell he was really struggling. He was out of it. I didn’t know then but it turned out he was selling and abusing prescription drugs.
“The program I did community service through involved counseling and my therapist suggested I apply to a few scholarships for previously troubled youths. I managed to get a decent scholarship to a college with a great psychology program.” He sighed.
“But it was a few hours away. Matt was furious when I told him that I intended to go.
He… he was in a really bad way, back then.
“He ended up breaking up with me,” Blake explained.
“I wanted to make it a long-distance thing. I told him I’d ride my bike back home at the drop of a hat whenever he needed me.
But he started to lash out. Said a bunch of nasty shit and…
well, I didn’t know what to do other than offer to support him and we lost touch for a few months.
“I don’t know the details of it, but he ended up in rehab—he met Noel during inpatient. I think Noel and Jace really helped convince Matt that he needed to get his shit together before he ended up in jail. By my junior year we were back on speaking terms, but he was dating other people by then.”
“Do you still love him?” Marin asked, his voice soft. There was no judgment to his words, but they were pricked with a tender nervousness.
Blake hesitated. He didn’t know when he’d gotten so off topic. He rolled the question around in his mind for a moment before answering.
“I know it’s cliche but… I think I’ll always love him, even if it’s not in a romantic way,” he answered. “He was my first love, after all—and he’s been my best friend since elementary school.”
“Have you dated anyone else since then?”
Blake shrugged. “Not really. I’ve had a few one-off dates, and—and there was this friends-with-benefits thing with Jace during college, but that ended poorly.”
“What happened?” Marin inquired.
“I ended up catching feelings for him,” Blake explained, lips bending up into a wry smile.
“He didn’t feel the same way. On top of that it was…
a really complicated situation because he was in an open relationship with Faren and falling for Alex all at the same time we were hooking up.
I… I guess he didn’t feel the same way about me.
“But…” Blake shook his head, eager to get off of the subject. “Since then I’ve been so busy with work and classes that I never really got the chance to date seriously. It’s less that I’m unable to move on and more that I don’t have the time.”
“Do you think you’re afraid?”
Blake looked at Marin. His expression was serious, if sincere. It was… a painful question, but a pertinent one. Marin had seen right through him.
“Sure you don’t wanna be a therapist?” Blake smirked at him.
“I… you know, I think I’ve been making a lot of excuses for myself.
I’ve moved on from Matt, but what I went through with him really messed with me at the time—and getting my heart broken in the Jace situation didn’t help at all.
I guess I’m scared of getting hurt again.
“If I can get painfully honest with you.” He hesitated. “I’ve always struggled with the concept that other people could find me desirable. As a friend, as a lover…” he trailed off, expression scrunching in pain. “As a son.”
You are absolutely trauma dumping on him, a voice chastised in the back of Blake’s mind.
“I. Uh. Sorry. That was—a little… much,” Blake stuttered. But Marin didn’t complain about the sudden heaviness of the conversation, and peered over at him with a patient expression. Shuffling on the bench, Blake attempted to backpedal to something a bit lighter:
“I mean, I don’t think it’s a me-thing. Even professionally, there’s been times when I wasn’t exactly welcome. Last school year I took a class that involved volunteer work at an elementary school and they had to move me up to middle school since the little kids were all so afraid of me.”
Marin blinked in shock. “Afraid?”
“Turns out when you’re six foot one with a face full of piercings, it sends third graders running, no matter how nice you try to be.” Blake laughed.
“But you’re so kind.” Marin frowned. “And… wait. You have facial piercings? ”
Blake tapped the tip of his nose and the crest of his eyebrow.
“Used to. I have to take them out during the summer due to the risk of them getting yanked out while lifeguarding, but I had a septum, an eyebrow piercing, and snake bites in, as well as like ten ear piercings at one point. I only kept a few piercings in the left one for now.”
“Ten. That’s incredible,” Marin marveled, expression growing curious. “Do you have a picture of when you still had them?”
“Yeah, let me find one.” Blake nodded, reaching to rummage around his jacket pocket for his cell.
He unlocked the phone, the bright square of his screen displaying his wallpaper picture: a public art installation from his college town.
There was a sudden intake of breath beside him.
He turned his head to glance at Marin, who stared down at the picture, expression blank.
“You okay?” Blake asked.
Marin shook himself before smiling over at Blake. “Yeah, sorry… your phone’s a little bright. I…”
Marin paused, sucking his lower lip in-between his teeth. “Where is that?”
“This?” Blake cocked his head, gesturing towards his phone’s background.
“It’s an art piece that’s on display at the Japan Center in San Francisco.
I used to hang out there a lot to get my hands on obscure JRPGs.
It was made by one of my favorite underground artists, a guy that went by ‘Watatsumi’.
He did a lot of public art installations around the Bay Area in the 90’s. ”
“Watatsumi,” Marin whispered, reaching out to tap the side of Blake’s phone.
The art piece was a fitting one for the artist’s pseudonym.
A bronze sculpture of an octopus emerged from a painted sea-life background; beneath the protective shelter of its arms were tucked two cuttlefish on either side, their eyes inset with glass gems.
Marin’s expression clouded further, eyes glazing over.
“You sure you’re fine?” Blake pressed.
Marin shook himself, replacing the vacant expression with a smile. “Yeah, I really like it.”
Blake didn’t exactly buy that, but he wasn’t about to press Marin for details. He’d been frustrated enough earlier in the night. Besides, after telling Marin about his past he was a little worn himself.
“Sorry to dump all of that on you, especially when you were upset,” Blake apologized as he opened up his Instagram and went to search for the requested picture of his old piercings. “I know you only asked why I wanted to study psychology, not for a life story. Do you feel any better from earlier?”
“I do.” Marin nodded. As he moved, Blake realized that he had unconsciously rested his hand on Marin’s knee again.
“Thank you for changing the subject, it helped—and please don’t apologize for talking about yourself.
I asked you. Besides.” He smiled, eyes scrunching with warmth.
“I know it must be painful to recount your past, but I feel closer to you now.”
“I feel closer to you, too,” Blake admitted. “Thanks for listening—ah, here’s the picture.”
“Oh wow!” Marin grinned, taking the phone from Blake and peering down at the college-era photo. He was crouching below the iconic Haight-Ashbury sign, his side-cut gelled up into a proper deathhawk, and his face glittering with the aforementioned piercings. “Damn, you look good!”
Blake turned his head and laughed, a little flustered. Most people who saw his high school and college photos tended to tease him for looking like such a punk rather than praise his looks.
He was about to reply to Marin, but Celeste chose that moment to materialize out of the crowd next to them.
“ There you guys are.” They huffed. “I’ve been texting you for the past fifteen minutes! I thought you ditched us so I stole your drinks. Hope that’s okay.”
“You’re fine,” Blake told them, glancing back down at his phone to see the text notifications. “Shit, I’m sorry. I was showing Marin something so I didn’t even notice.”
“Ugh, fine, whatever.” Celeste scoffed, folding their arms over their chest. They jerked their chin up at Marin, “You feeling any better?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, smiling over at Celeste. “I think I’m ready to go back in.”
“Sorry, you’re too late,” Celeste declared with a dramatic fling of their arm. “I’m ready to dance so we’re headed over to Star Lounge. I already sent Ryan over to go stand in line.”
“You know,” Blake told them, standing up from the bench. “He is your boyfriend—you ought to try bossing him around a little less.”
Celeste stared back at him blank-faced, only to rear back a moment later, cheeks bright pink as their brain caught up with Blake’s words. “W-whatever!” They turned away from the pair and started stomping down the street. “Ugh!”
Marin and Blake exchanged pained expressions before following along.