by Vera Hollins
Everyone should have the freedom to be themself, but it is so hard to achieve it. We live only once, but we spend out time pleasing others and forgetting our own happiness—forgetting we are the ones who have to live with our choices, not them. Why does it matter so much? Why does it matter whether we are bi, gay, fat, ugly, stupid, unsuccessful, or any other label society puts on us?
“It’s going to be all right,” I said reassuringly. “Just don’t hide or suppress who you are, no matter what. I’ve been doing that for as long as I can remember, and now I’m struggling to find a way to live free of my fears. So don’t let them win. You and I will find a way to be ourselves.”
He pulled away, but he didn’t break the contact between us, holding me by my elbows. “Why are you so nice to me?”
“Why shouldn’t I be? You’re my friend.”
“No one has treated me as, as, as nicely as you have. I’m nobody. I’m not worth your t-t-time.”
I shook my head. “Don’t put yourself down. You’re so sweet, Kev.” I pinched his cheek. “You’re the best friend anyone could wish for.”
He dropped his hands. His lips curled into a sad smile as he stared at the sky. “A friend, huh?”
I opened my mouth to confirm it before I stopped myself. I felt like I was treading a thin line. “You know I really care about you.”
“Yes, I know. You care about me…but as a friend.”
“I…” I sighed. “I’m sorry. I know how you feel about me, but…I just don’t feel that way about you.”
He looked more upset with each word I spoke, and I hated hurting him like that. He grasped the railing as his eyes shifted to the sky. “I know. But I hoped you would like me too and I…and I could also forget about Hayden. It’s so s-stupid of me to crush on him. Or you.”
I observed his profile. “Is there maybe someone else you like? I mean, what about Marcus?”
He frowned at me. “Marcus?”
“Yeah. I know maybe you don’t see it that way, but I think you two would look amazing together.”
He let out a long sigh and pushed himself away from the railing. “I’m not sure I can be with him, Jess. And how can he like me with my s-stutter?”
“And why shouldn’t he like you with your stutter? Your stutter is not who you are, remember? I can see Marcus doesn’t care about that, and neither should you. Stutter or not, you’re a sweet, nice person, and you deserve the best.”
“Then why can’t you like me?” He ran his hand through his slicked hair, managing to ruin it. “Is there no way for you to like me?”
My eyes traced the clouds hiding the stars, a thick layer of regret blanketing my chest. A shiver swept through my body. “Kevin, I…I can’t. I like someone else.”
“I know. It’s Blake, isn’t it? Even though he’s always b-bullied you, you fell for him.”
I didn’t like the accusation in his tone. I didn’t turn to look at him, fisting my hands on the railing.
“Yes. I fell for him even though he’s my bully. Sick, right? You probably see me as stupid, but do you think I haven’t tried to get rid of these feelings? It’s not easy.”
He grabbed my hand, and I looked at him. The longing in his eyes was too much for me to bear. “I can help you forget him. We can both forget our s-s-stupid crushes and be together—”
“Do you even understand English, Burks? Or do you need me to translate ‘I like someone else’ for you?” a deep voice said, and my heart stopped.
Hell no.
Blake stood only a few feet behind us with his arms crossed over his chest and an unreadable expression on his face.
He’d heard everything.
My world crumbled. He’d heard it. He’d heard I liked him.
I was going to be sick.
“She likes me, not you, so stop trying to force her to like you. Now, beat it,” Blake said, motioning with his thumb at the back door for Kevin to leave.
“No. I-I-I won’t leave Jess alone with you. And Jess and I are t-talking, so you’re the one who should leave.”
Blake’s nostrils flared, and he lunged at Kev, grabbing his shoulder. “Are you actually talking back to me? Do you want me to force you to leave, Burks?”
“Don’t touch him!” I jumped to separate him from Kev and pushed him away, shielding Kev with my body. “He did nothing to you, so don’t you dare touch him.”
His scowl deepened. “I need to talk to you, and he’s just in the way.”
“I don’t want to talk to you,” I said, but it was a lie. I wanted to talk to him, as stupid as it was. I wanted to know why he was here and how much he’d heard. I wanted answers to the questions that grew louder in my mind day after day.
He inclined his head, his eyes narrowing at me. “You’re not a good liar. I think you’re dying to know what I have to say about your little confession.”
A strong blush colored my cheeks, and I glanced away. My skin tingled at his closeness. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him. “Fine. We’ll talk.”
“Jess,” Kev said in a disappointed tone, but I didn’t look at him—I couldn’t—staring at my shoes instead.
“It’s okay, Kev. Go. We’ll finish our conversation later, okay?”
He didn’t answer immediately, and I could feel him watching me. “Okay. I’ll find Mel. T-Text me if…” His voice trailed off, and Blake snorted.
“What?” Blake taunted. “If she gets hurt by the big bad wolf? Are you going to be her knight in shining armor?”
Kevin tipped his chin up as he looked at him defiantly, which left me open-mouthed. “I might.”
Blake’s smirk fell. “You really do have a death wish.”
My heart twisted in fear for Kevin. I didn’t want him to get hurt because of me.
“Go, Kev. I’ll come inside soon.”
“Fine,” he mumbled and dragged himself back into the house.
I descended the porch stairs and went down the stepping stone path away from Blake, needing that distance between us. The air got cooler. Despite being in the open space, I felt like I was enclosed in a small bubble where nothing existed but Blake.
I could hear him following me closely, and my shivering intensified. I stopped near the back shed and folded my arms across my chest. The smell of the rain spread around me as a poignant tune depicting this moment between us formed in my mind, but I would never get to finish it.
“You wanted to talk, so talk,” I said boldly, facing away from him.
He shifted closer, stopping only inches behind me, and the thumping in my chest grew stronger. “Who would’ve thought you’d fall for me?”
I rubbed my arms to get rid of the cold that penetrated my skin, choking back my shame. “So you’re here to rub salt into the wound. Congratulations—I feel even more miserable and ashamed. Will you leave now?”
“Since when?”
I frowned. “Since when—what?”
“You know what I mean.”
I closed my eyes, and the image popped up behind my lids. His fragile, hunched form on the floor in the gym that day had shattered my heart. The words that had slipped through his lips were filled with pain that went so deep I wasn’t even sure if it had an ending.
The last thing I’d heard before I left was a whispered “I love you, Emma,” and even now, I remembered the all-consuming longing in those four words that echoed through the corners of my mind.
“Since I thought I saw something else beneath your cruel exterior, something good. But I was wrong.”
“Something good.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement said in a tone that revealed he didn’t believe he contained anything good to begin with.
I took a few wobbly steps away from him, looking at the sky. “It was when I saw you heartbroken because of some girl named Emma.” I started turning around. “It made me realize you aren’t that heartless—” My words turned into nothing when I saw his cold expression.
He erased the distance between us in two angry strides and towered over
me. “What do you know about Emma?”
The anger rolled off his body, and I had to take a step back, shocked by the sudden change in his mood. “Nothing,” I said quickly. “Except that she’s someone you obviously care about a lot.”
He stepped toward me, eliminating the distance between us again. “Don’t mention her name ever again.”
I flinched. “Jesus. She’s really gotten under your skin—”
His eyes flashed with rage, and he launched himself at me. With a yelp, I backed away until I hit the wall of the shed, but he followed me all the way and pressed his palms on each side of my head.
“Don’t ever speak about her again!” He slammed his hand against the wood. “You’ve got no right!”
Pain pierced through me. I could see the love in his eyes that burned so fiercely for that girl, devotion so strong that made me yearn to have something like that. My eyes filled with tears, old wounds opening up.
“I see. I won’t mention her again.” I moved to the side to walk away, but his arm didn’t budge, keeping me in place. “Let me go.”
“Why? Isn’t this what you want?” He ground against me, fully aroused, and I gasped at the sudden, offensive contact. I squeezed my eyes shut and fisted my hands, hating this. I hated him for breaking me like this. “You like me, so I guess this is exactly what you want.”
The first tears dropped, and I turned my head to the side, avoiding his stare. “Not like this,” I whispered. “Never like this.” I bit into my lip. “Don’t degrade me like this. Please.”
I felt so cold. Cold and lonely.
He pulled away, and the grip that had been clasping my heart lessened its hold, but I couldn’t meet his stare. “Then what do you want?”
The words came out of my mouth before I could regret them.
“What do I want?” I lowered my head, closing my eyes. “Even a fragment of what you feel for that girl. A tiny bit of it. Your smile. But I’ll never get that, so what’s the use of being around you like this? What’s the use of my stupid feelings? This is toxic.”
A droplet fell on my cheek, and I opened my eyes to the sky as the first drops of rain cascaded down upon us. A strong shiver rocked my body as I brought my gaze to Blake. My heart contracted at the fiery look in his eyes, which devoured me in the prolonged silence.
“Yes. It’s toxic,” he finally said. “But it doesn’t have to be.”
My eyes widened. So many thoughts rushed through my mind at his words, his closeness, his eyes… We were getting soaked, but neither of us moved or acknowledged it. The earthy scent of the rain meeting the ground mixed with his smell appealingly.
“We aren’t supposed to be like this,” he said, cupping my cheek as his gaze fell to my lips. “I’m not supposed to feel this way.” He ran his thumb over my mouth, and a sigh escaped me. I should’ve moved away. Any moment now… “I hate it.”
“Then let me go,” I said weakly through my chattering teeth. The rain was a real downpour now, gluing our clothes to our bodies.
“I can’t. I want that, but…”
“Stop playing me. Over and over again. Enough.”
“I’m not playing you.”
“So what are you doing exactly?” I asked tiredly, squinting through the deluge. “All this time, you’ve been giving me mixed signals. So, what do you really want? Please be honest with me for once.”
It seemed like he was still trying to resist something, but then resignation settled into his features and he took the last step that separated us. I shivered, but it wasn’t because of the weather.
“I want to stop feeling guilty for being this way. I want to stop feeling. Period.”
I willed myself to breathe evenly. “And what are you feeling?”
His eyes darted all over my face. There was no hate. No anger. Just need. He cursed under his breath.
“I can’t get enough of you. I can’t stop thinking about you. And as much as I’m telling myself what we’re doing now is wrong…I’m not able to fight it.”
He grabbed the back of my head with his hand and crashed his lips against mine before his words could even settle in my mind, swallowing my gasp of surprise. His kiss was fierce, igniting everything in me, and for a few moments, I allowed myself to enjoy this, to forget the pain…to pretend this was okay. I pulled him closer to me. I was starving for the kiss that was ruining me as much as it breathed happiness into me.
His hands roamed up and down my back, seeking the next inch of me like he’d been dying to touch me, and the feel of it was incredible. His body radiated warmth that was stronger than any cold, sheathing me in its addictive cocoon. My heart went wild when he deepened our kiss and his tongue clashed against mine, and it went on and on until I lost my reason. Until I craved more, more, more.
He moved his hands under my thighs and picked me up with stunning ease. I grabbed his shoulders, and my legs wrapped around his waist reflexively as he pressed me against the shed.
“No, wait. Let me down. I’m too heavy.”
His heavy-lidded eyes were two dark pools of lust. “No, you’re not. You’re not heavy at all.”
He kissed me again, pressing himself against me, and the contact created a sweet sensation in my core. The scariest thing was that the way our bodies molded to each other felt natural, and I never wanted him to let go of me.
His hand traced my waist and ended on my flabby hip, grasping it. Panic spread through my chest, and I broke our kiss, too aware of the extra fat I had there.
“No…don’t touch me there.” I tugged at his hand to move it from that spot.
He leaned away to look at me. “What are you doing?”
“I just don’t want you to touch me there.”
His brows scrunched together. “Why not?”
I blushed, glancing away. “Because I…”
“Because what?” he pressed further.
Damn him. “Because I’m fat, and touching my flab doesn’t feel nice.”
He lowered me down, all lust in his eyes gone. “Are you for real?”
His tone killed the short-lived warmth in me, bringing back the pain. This was what I got for being so weak and allowing him the kiss he didn’t deserve.
I curled my lip. “As real as all those times you called me fat and Fats.”
He backed away and ran his hand through his hair. “That’s not…” He shook his head. “You’re not fat.”
Say what?
I gaped at him. “I’m not fat?”
“Yes. You’re not fat,” he repeated, getting angrier, but his anger couldn’t compare to what I felt in this moment. I was beside myself, all those months of insults coming back to me to mock me.
“Then why did you make all those fat jokes at my expense? Why did you insult me all those times, calling me fat and many other horrible things?! Why did you make me remember how much I hate my body?!”
He staggered, his eyes widening. “Jessie, I…” He hissed and kicked away a small rock on the path. “I never wanted to…” He fisted his hands. “Fuck. Look, I’m sorr—”
“Don’t even say it!” I screamed and pushed against his shoulder. “Don’t even say it, because one sorry will never repair the damage you’ve already done. Don’t say it when you don’t even mean it! Because tomorrow, you’ll send another ‘fat’ insult my way, and I’ll end up making myself throw up in the toilet all over again, feeling awful and like the fattest person in the world!”
Silence fell upon us as shock settled on his face. And then I realized what I’d just said.
I whimpered. I’d actually told him about throwing up.
Kill. Me.
I’d reached the very bottom of humiliation, giving him yet another thing he could use to break me. How much more stupid could I get?
Unable to stay here a second longer, I hid my face in shame and darted away.
Saturday was a blur of tears, self-hate, and replays of our kiss. Not only was I at a low ebb, my throat was sore too. I couldn’t even sing, stuck with ho
mework and dreary thoughts.
He’d kissed me like his life depended on it. He’d told me I wasn’t fat. He’d tried to say he was sorry.
He couldn’t stop thinking about me. He couldn’t get enough of me.
Big deal.
None of that mattered. It didn’t matter when everything would remain the same. There was no respect, trust, or love.
But nothing from the night before topped Blake’s expression when I’d told him my most embarrassing secret, and it gnawed at me. I wished I could glue myself to my bed and stay in my room until I graduated and was gone from this town.
My parents had other plans, though. My dad valued Saturday dinner gatherings of our family and those of his key clients, which served to strengthen his business relationships with them. Those dinners always bored me to death, but as the obedient daughter that I was, I never refused to go.
So that was why I was waiting all dressed up in the living room for my parents to come downstairs. I wore an elegant white flowery blouse and black pants, with braided hair and makeup that hid all the gigantic pimples that had popped up before my period. Add a sore throat and terrible cramps into the equation, and you got a girl who just wanted stay home, make hot chocolate, and watch Netflix in bed.
My phone chimed with a message from Kev.
Can we talk?
My parents took their time to get ready, so I probably had a few more minutes to spare.
“Hi,” I said when he picked up, feeling a flicker of guilt because of our last conversation.
“Hi.” His voice was raspy.
“You don’t sound good. Are you sick?” He didn’t reply immediately, and the heavy silence made me frown.
“No.”
I pressed my hand against my cramping stomach. “Then what’s wrong?”
“First, I want to apologize for last night. I was too drunk.”
“It’s okay, Kev. You don’t have to apologize. You just said how you felt.”
“But I don’t want to put p-p-pressure on you.”
“You’re not. Don’t worry about it. I’m just…” I bit at the cuticle of my thumb. “I’m just sorry I don’t see you that way. I want to, but you know you can’t force your heart to love someone, right?”