He talks about the first time Matty said his name. He tells me how Sammi already says she wants to be a musician just like him. He’s started teaching her piano. I tell him how I feel when I’m drawing and I miraculously capture on paper what was just an image in my head. I tell him how cherished he makes me feel when he holds me like that.
He tells me how incredibly beautiful he thinks I am when I’m perfectly content and in my own little world gazing into a daydream. I tell him how incredibly lucky I think I am that he needs glasses. He says he wishes I could see myself the way he sees me. I wish that too.
Hours go by and he starts to yawn. We get ready for bed and settle in to watch a movie. I’ll probably fall asleep before it’s over. We’re not watching horror for a change. I’m not really paying attention to the movie. It’s hard to watch a movie when there’s a beautiful boy nibbling your ear and kissing your sweet spot like that.
The movie turns into a make out session but it’s one of the more chaste kinds. He’s still freaked about Friday night. I’m still freaked about Friday night. I’d be happy if that could just be wiped out of my memory as well as his. He gets my heart pounding in that good way. I strip his shirt off and trace my fingers over his skin. Eventually we fall asleep in each other’s arms.
I don’t remember anything about the dream. I don’t know how I ended up so high or what I did to make everyone angry at me but everyone is there, my parents, Kimber, Chris, Aunt Sarah, Max, Mark and Lydia, Dr. Cooper, Elliot and even my old friend Kevin surround me. They’re all angry at me. They’re shoving and yelling and poking and it’s my dad that gives me the final push that sends me over the edge of…a cliff? That’s when I know it’s a dream because Max would never be on a cliff.
I can feel myself falling and I can’t wake up or cry out. I just fall and fall and I’m anticipating hitting bottom and my heart is pounding. I can feel the adrenaline. Is it true that if you die in your dreams you die in real life or have I watched too many horror movies? I don’t die when I hit bottom. I wake with a start.
I gasp for air and try to stop the shaking before it can wake Max. I manage to extricate myself from his arms and legs and the blankets and I practically catapult myself out of bed. I forgot about the knee and ankle and fall to my hands and knees but thanks to the thick carpeting I barely make a sound. I limp my way to the bathroom and I lock the door.
I’m not sick in the stomach but I’m sick in other ways. I’m sick of being like this. I’m sick of trying to hide it. If I’d had a normal nightmare I could be warm in bed right now in Max’s arms being comforted but instead I’m hiding out in this cold bathroom alone in fear of being caught. I’m sick of the anxiety and the drugs and the fear and the overwhelming sadness.
The door opens and surprises me. I hide my face from him. He sits on the floor next to me and puts an arm around me. I try to shrug him off but he pulls me against his side and my body presses up against him. When will it learn that I’m in control here and stop responding like this?
“Were you sick?” he asks. I shake my head. “Then what are you doing?”
“How did you get in here?” I say through clenched teeth…clenched because if they weren’t they’d be chattering.
“Master key. I asked my dad for it after the last time. You scared me that day, Noah. You’re scaring me now.”
“I know. I know I am,” my voice cracks. I breathe. I’m going to tell him. I have to tell him. I can already hear it in my head the way I’ve rehearsed it over and over and over.
The truth is I’m a mess. I’m clinically depressed. I’m on drugs. I have so much anxiety that I need the drugs to function. I have a panic disorder that’s trying to kill me. I’m not fit for…anything.
“Max, I need to be honest. I don’t know how to say it. I’ve been lying for so long I don’t know how to tell the truth…”
“You can tell me anything, No. I love you. Just say it.” I look away from him. This will be easier if I don’t have to see his face.
“You won’t love me anymore.”
“Impossible.”
“I can’t do this,” I say and I’m not entirely sure what I mean by that. “I’m just…I can’t do this. You are everything to me and it’s not enough.” No, no, no! That’s not what you’re supposed to say!
“Not enough? You can’t do what? Tell me? You can tell me anything, everything, just tell me,” he’s practically pleading.
“You don’t want this. You don’t want to hear this,” I take a breath. “Max…” I shrug out of his arms and limp my way to his room with him close behind me. I start packing my things into my overnight bag.
“Noah, what are you doing? Sit down and talk to me,” he’s keeping his voice calm but his eyes are giving him away. I’m freaking him out now.
“I’m not gay!” I shout it and he stops dead in his tracks and stares at me. “I can’t do this! It’s a lie and I can’t and I’m sorry!”
“I don’t understand,” he says slowly. “Is this because of what happened on Friday? Noah, I told you we take things at your pace…”
“It’s not about Friday but isn’t that proof enough? It’s everything. It’s having to go out of town just to hold hands and kiss at dinner. It’s wrong! If it wasn’t wrong then it wouldn’t matter to me would it? I’ve never once looked at a guy and thought that’s what I want. This…I don’t know what this is. I’m confused and I’m stupid and sheltered and stupid and shy and stupid and naïve and STUPID! You’re my best friend! That’s all this is. How did it get twisted into something…something so WRONG?”
“Noah,” he reaches out to me and I push his hands away.
“No! It’s wrong and it’s got to stop and I’m sorry! You might be confused but I’m not. I’m not!” I’m shaking so hard I have to sit down and Max sits next to me but doesn’t get close enough to touch.
“I’m not confused. I know who I am. I know who I love,” he says quietly. “If you need time to figure things out…”
“I don’t need time. I’ve figured things out. All of this, not sleeping, not eating and all of the other stuff it’s me knowing that it’s wrong. I’m…I have to go,” I get up and grab my bag and start walking towards the door but Max cuts me off before I get there because he has two working legs. He puts his hands on my shoulders and holds me back from the door. He must see something in my eyes when he looks into them even though I try to avoid the eye contact.
“Noah? Mon Coeur? Please…don’t do this,” he says it in such a quiet broken voice that tears spring to my eyes because it’s like when I saw him in the hospital on the vent. It’s just NOT Max. I did that. I’m suddenly so tired. I sigh. I close my eyes. When I open them again and look at him his are glassy.
“It’s two in the morning. You had a nightmare. Just…let’s go back to sleep and talk about this in the morning, yeah?”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I say and my voice is completely devoid of emotion.
“Noah…”
“Fine. I’ll sleep,” I tell him and he must think that’s enough because he drops his hands. We go back to bed and it’s only after I’m under the covers and the lights are off that I realize my mistake. I should have laid down on the couch in the other room or upstairs. I take one of the extra pillows and hold it against my chest, wrapping myself around it and I slide as close to the edge of the bed as I can get.
He’s still, very still, and I know he’s not asleep. He doesn’t say anything but eventually he reaches out to touch my back. I flinch and he pulls his hand away.
“No,” he says and I don’t know if he means my name or the word. I think it doesn’t really matter. I can feel him there behind me watching me, wanting to touch me but keeping his distance. I know he’s blindsided. Hell I’M blindsided. I wasn’t planning to say that. Yeah, I was starting to have some doubts but I really thought I was going to tell him the truth about me and my problems not this.
I know I could take it back. I could roll over and touch him and k
iss him and it would be forgotten. I could give him one word of encouragement. I could tell him I’m sorry and I was being crazy and he’d forgive it just like that but I won’t. It’s done now. It was doomed anyway. He would have found out the truth and he would have left and it would have killed me. At least this is on my terms. At least now I don’t have to live in the fear of him finding out and losing him that way. In a weird way I prefer it this way. At least this way I know he still loves me.
****
There is the barest hint of daylight creeping in through Max’s high, narrow basement windows when I wake up again. In our sleep we’ve found our way back to each other. There’s a sort of desperation in the way we’re tangled up in each other. It’s almost as if when unconscious I can be honest about the fact that I don’t really want to let go.
My legs are tangled in his and my head is on his chest. I can hear every heartbeat. My head moves slightly with the rise and fall of his breathing. I wish I could just stay right here in this moment. I WANT this but I don’t know how I can have it, not when I’m so terrified. Not when I’m falling apart and lying to everyone. I’m lying to Max about myself. I’m lying to my parents about Max. I’m even lying to myself because I think I’m finally realizing I’m worse off than I thought.
I’m lying in the protective curve of his arm and his fingers are in my hair. It’s only when he brings the other arm around me that I realize he’s awake too. I keep my eyes closed. I’m sure he doesn’t realize that I’m awake. I don’t want to ruin this moment. I want to breathe life into it, spin it out for an eternity.
“Noah,” he sighs my name. The sadness in his voice almost causes me to wrap my arms around him and fix this but I remain still.
I can tell the moment when he falls asleep because the arm around me that held me while he trailed his fingers through my hair eventually loosens its hold until it falls to my side. I wait another ten minutes and then I carefully slide out of bed.
My bag is where I left it and I take it and limp my way to the stairs. I change quickly in the downstairs bathroom and collect my coat. I slip out the front door as the sun starts to really show itself. It’s a long, cold, painful walk home. When I let myself in I’m glad my parents forgot to set the alarm so I don’t startle them awake.
I change into a fresh pair of pajamas and close my black out shades. I take out my phone as I crawl into bed. I consider what to say. I know it was shitty of me to sneak out like I did and leaving a text message isn’t any better but I couldn’t stay. If I had stayed so we could talk about it he would have convinced me to change my mind.
I’M HOME, DON’T WORRY ABOUT ME. PLEASE DON’T CALL. DON’T TEXT. DON’T STOP BY. I WON’T CHANGE MY MIND.
I hit SEND then I reconsider.
I’M SO SORRY. I add. I turn off my phone and the bedside lamp and I pull the covers up to my chin. I’m still leaking buckets of saltwater when my parents start stirring two hours later. I don’t think they realize I’m at home for a while. Eventually a soft knock comes on the door. I don’t answer.
“Noah? Are you in there?” Mom calls. She knocks again and when I still don’t answer the door creaks open slowly. “Noah, why didn’t you answer me?” she asks as she comes into my room. I offer a mute shrug.
She comes around the bed so she can see my face and I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. I just feel so empty. It’s like I’ve been scooped out, everything that made me ME has been altered or removed.
“Dad and I didn’t realize you were home,” she says as she sits on the edge of the bed. She plays with my bangs, brushing them back with her fingertips, tucking them behind my ear. It’s too much, that gesture. It reminds me too much of Max and I have to squeeze my eyes shut so Mom can’t see my eyes filling with tears.
“Max called. He said you left before he woke up this morning. Why did you do that? He was worried,” Mom is doing her best to keep her voice low and controlled. I can tell it’s an effort.
“I texted him to let him know I got home okay,” I say flatly. Mom sighs.
“What happened? Did you have your talk with him? Is that what this is about? Frankly, I expected more out of Max. I’m sorry it didn’t go the way you wanted,” she sounds so sympathetic. If only she really knew. About me. About Max. About what the talk was really about. I have to give her something.
“I couldn’t tell him,” I decide to go with as much truth as I can. It will be easier that way. “I was going to tell him and I just couldn’t. I couldn’t stand the thought of him hating me or pitying me or being disgusted with me. I just told him…I told him I couldn’t do it anymore. I can’t see him anymore…like you know, outside of school or whatever. I think it’s best. I should have never gotten this close.”
“Sweetie, Max is your best friend. He would understand. Don’t push him away like this.” I shake my head.
“He wouldn’t. He would think I’m weak. He wouldn’t want to be friends with someone like that,” I tell her and it’s how I really feel. He would think I’m weak. After the conversations we’ve had I know how he would feel. I don’t want him to look at me like that.
“Noah, you’ve grown so much these last few months and most of that was you but don’t you think some of that was Max? He’s given you self-confidence somehow. He’s been good for you. Don’t push him away.” When I say nothing she sighs. “He says you hurt yourself. He wanted me to make sure you were okay. What did you do?”
“I fell running yesterday. It’s no big deal. It’s already getting better,” I tell her. She won’t take my word for it and she makes me show her my knee. It’s not as swollen or as painful as the day before but it’s bruising in a horrific way. I assure Mom I don’t need to go to the hospital.
“Get up now,” she says. “No staying in bed all day.”
“I went to bed really late. Just let me sleep a little more, okay?” She considers for a moment before agreeing.
“Lunch in two hours and then out of this bed with you,” she says. She kisses my forehead then leaves the room. I should have just gotten up because it’s not like I’m going to sleep. I don’t want to ever leave the comfort of this bed again.
****
I’m dreading seeing Max at school but I also want to see him. I miss him already and I think just seeing him at school will make me feel better. I have no idea what to expect. I go straight to the library like I usually do. I don’t really expect him to show up there but I’m still surprised when the warning bell for homeroom rings and he doesn’t make an appearance.
I’m just turning away from my locker when a stinging slap whips my head to the side. I blink my surprised eyes and when I can see again it’s Tabitha standing in front of me looking furious. I don’t have time to register my confusion or even say anything when she slaps the other cheek even harder if that’s possible.
So she’s talked to Max already. She doesn’t say anything. She turns around and heads to her homeroom. I look around but I don’t see Max at his locker. I try to ignore the jeers and laughter that follow me to my homeroom after the spectacle of being hit by a girl.
Max isn’t in calculus class. He never misses school. Since I’ve been in Lansing he’s only been out when he was in the hospital and then at home recovering. I feel half sick by lunchtime. Darcy stops by my locker before lunch.
“If you’re here to slap me too I’d rather skip it,” I tell her as I shove my books in my locker.
“Are you okay?” she asks, surprising me. I shrug.
“Does it matter?” I sigh.
“It matters to me. You’re still my friend,” she says, putting an arm around me and giving a squeeze. “Tabitha is still your friend too she’s just angry. Give her time and she’ll come around.”
“I seriously doubt that,” I sigh again.
“She will. We decided it would be best if she took care of Max and I took care of you,” Darcy admits.
“Take care of? I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”
�
��Look, I don’t know what happened. Tabitha only has Max’s side of it. All I know is you must have had a reason even if I don’t agree with it. I also know you really care about him so I know that you’re hurting too. Just know that I’m here for you and I’m still your friend, okay? Now, on to lunch with you. I’m starving.”
It’s with a great hesitation that I accompany Darcy to lunch. I don’t really eat. I sit with Darcy at the far end of the table we usually sit at so that I’m not close to Tabitha. Everything feels wrong. From the time I realized Max wasn’t here everything has felt wrong. I feel wrong.
At home after school I go right to my room and throw myself into homework just to occupy my mind. I’m done with schoolwork well before dinner so I decide to call Kimber. It’s been ages since I talked to her. I forgot that I turned off my phone yesterday after texting Max so I’m surprised by all of the texts waiting for me when I start it up to make my call to my cousin. I told him not to call or text but apparently he didn’t listen.
I WOKE UP AND YOU WERE GONE. HOW COULD YOU JUST LEAVE LIKE THAT?
WE CAN WORK IT OUT IF YOU JUST TALK TO ME. WHATEVER IT IS IT CAN’T BE BIGGER THAN US…NOT IF WE DON’T LET IT.
I LOVE YOU, NOAH. YOU ARE MY HEART. WITHOUT YOU…PLEASE DON’T DO THIS. JUST CALL ME.
There are several missed calls as well but he didn’t leave any voice messages. I wish he would have. I have a tremendous need to hear his voice. It’s such a great need that I almost call him. I have my phone open to my contacts and I’m ready to make the call but then I shake myself out of it and call Kimber instead.
I try to explain to Kimber what happened but it really doesn’t make much sense if I skip telling her about Friday night and if I don’t admit to the panic attacks and overall anxiety. She can hear it in my voice that I’m beyond sad. I think I convince her not to tell Aunt Sarah or my parents. This isn’t depression. This is a broken heart. It’s something I’ll eventually get over, right? I end the call with Kimber not feeling any better than I did before I talked to her.
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