With Trust - 17. Keep your faith in your pocket

“Can we go to your house?”

I jumped at the sound of Caleb’s voice, glanced over and felt somewhat startled when I realized he was speaking to me. It took me a few more moments to put together his words, realize what he was asking. “Yeah.”

I looked blankly out the passenger window of his jeep, realizing that we’d been driving around for almost fifteen minutes. I guess I stopped understanding exactly what was happening around the time we walked out of the school. I didn’t understand why my friends were with me. Thinking it made me feel guilty, like I didn’t have enough faith in them or something. But that was the truth. I didn’t understand. They’d walked out of there with me, but the anger when it came to two out of the three of them was hard to miss.

Caleb was restrained. His anger wasn’t the kind that tended to get him into trouble, the kind he needed a physical outlet to relieve. His was fueled from disbelief and confusion. Two things that never failed to frustrate him. He wanted to confront me but didn’t know how. I could hear it in his tone and I saw it every time his eyes swept in my direction when he didn’t think I’d notice. Part of me wanted to deal with it, say something. Make it easier for him to assault me with any words he wanted to. But I was also winded, too tired to hear it now. Seeing those words on my locker, my space, felt like a violation. I kept telling myself that it was minor. Nothing more than someone stepping on my shoelaces. But it felt personal. I felt attacked, no way to defend myself. I didn’t want to have to defend anything. I didn’t want to do it against people who were supposed to be my friends, like Caleb. Joe. When it came to Joe, every once in a while he shoved his knee into the back of my seat. I don’t think I’d be overreacting to say it was on purpose. That little action, kick, shove. It was something he knew I hated. Something he’d consciously avoid any other day. Such a little thing. But for me, a huge difference.

Everything felt different. Waking up felt different. Leaving my house felt different. The anxiety attack that came on every time I drove past the school, let alone walked into it, was different. Driving to my house with my friends felt different.

The sound of tires on gravel abruptly stopped as we neared my house, and as I sat up in my seat I found myself looking up, wondering why we weren’t moving anymore. Finally I looked at Caleb. “Want me to get out here?”

His brows drew together, his expression mildly perturbed. “Your mom’s home.”

“Oh... it’s okay.”

I saw Caleb turn his head, exchange glances with Joe and Haily, and finally he shrugged, finished driving up to my house. I was out of the car first, not because I was feeling particularly anxious, but more because everyone else seemed to be experiencing discomfort that I found to be unexpected, and maybe a little heartbreaking. They were always welcome. They knew. It put me on edge, made me wonder if they even wanted to be welcome anymore.

I couldn’t remember being so paranoid before. Shaking my head, I led the way to my front door, letting the others come at their own pace. They were beside me before I opened it, seeming cautious as we moved inside.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Haily whispered, making me wonder if she’d mistaken my home for a library. “I’ll be grounded if your mom calls my mom.”

“Huh?” I frowned at her, noted that behind her Caleb and Joe looked just as edgy. And then I got it and forced a smile that almost seemed real. “No... it’s fine,” I insisted. “This time, anyway. She’ll be fine we’re here.” I suddenly found myself regarding them warily. “Um... if you guys could... not mention what happened at school? She’s sort of been worried about me.”

Each one of them including Joe, surprisingly, looked somewhat bothered by that, slowly nodded their heads. But then, they’d always liked my mom, and it mattered a lot that they’d still care about her feelings, regardless of how they felt about me. “Thank you,” I said sincerely, and then turned into my house, calling for my mom outright. When she didn’t initially respond I headed through the house, noticing that no one bothered to follow me. Instead, all three of them headed directly to my room. At least that seemed normal.

When I reached the kitchen I noticed my mom through the glass windows, rake in hand as she cleaned up leaves around the house that the snow had finally melted off of. I thought about going out there, telling her I was home. I was already considering several half-true explanations for it. But instead I silently retreated. She’d know we were there eventually. For now I needed time with my friends. I needed to sort things out.

Halfway down the stairs I paused, hearing Haily’s voice. Apparently they’d started without me.

“It’s not like he’s doing it to piss you off,” she was saying, to whom I couldn’t tell. “Trust me, no one’s sorrier than I am that we have who we’re attracted to in common.”

There was a groan. “Can we not talk about this?” Joe wanted to know. “It’s still... I just don’t want to hear about it.”

Then what are you doing here?

“He said he wanted to talk to me before school, before all... that. Maybe he was going to change his mind.” This from Caleb.

What?

“Yeah. I don’t think so,” Haily replied. “And what are we going to do about what happened, anyway? We don’t even know who did it.”

“Looked like everyone did it,” Joe remarked. “I’m just glad I’m not bringing my car to school anymore. Wouldn’t want it to end up looking like his locker just because I hang out with him.”

I winced at that, feeling horrible. I hadn’t considered how this whole thing might affect them. Hell, I hadn’t been prepared for what it was doing to me. Part of me wanted to keep them as far away from all of it as I could. The other part wanted to make Joe’s pretty face bleed for sounding like such an asshole.

“Are we sure he’s not going to change his mind?” Caleb asked, still apparently hung up. I shook my head, rolled my eyes. He sounded boggled, not necessarily offensive.

“Caleb,” Haily said impatiently.

“Fine,” he replied. “Whatever. It’s just... it’s Nelson.”

“Exactly,” she said. “So what are we going to do about it? We can’t just let things stay like they are. People need to know the truth.”

I forced a cough, not wanting to sneak up on them, but wanting to get down there, wanting to know exactly what was happening. It occurred to me, somewhere through all the mixed feelings, that we weren’t necessarily here to talk about what I thought we were there to talk about--like, whether or not all of us could stay friends. Whether or not I’d be accepted. In fact, it occurred to me that I’d been attacked, and they were all still right there. They hadn’t left me alone.

Silence erupted as I made my way down the stairs, unsurprisingly. I had to step past Joe, who was seated on the second to last step and who made a show of avoiding my eyes. He didn’t look like he was planning to walk into my room, where Haily had picked up an old sketchbook to pretend she was looking through it, and Caleb had seated himself with his back to the edge of my bed, arms crossed and looking bored.

“Does anyone want something to drink?” I asked.

Haily shook her head and no one else responded. I found myself a little disappointed by that, mostly because I was now standing front and center with all of them and wanted an excuse to run away. Instead, I took a breath and decided to look at Caleb, since I was afraid I might get flipped off for looking at Joe. “I’m sorry about the other day. That’s not how I wanted to tell you.”

Caleb raised a challenging eyebrow at that. “Were you even going to?”

I gave his question some honest consideration. “I think I would have, when I was ready.”

“And when would that’ve been?”

“When I didn’t think you were going to look at me the way you are now,” I said bluntly.

Caleb couldn’t seem to find a good response to that, so he scowled at me instead.

Haily put down my book, took a hesitant step towards me. “Are you okay? At school...”

I sniffed, frowning at the reminder as I avoided her eyes. “I’m fine. Should’ve known it was coming.”

If my friends were angry, I could imagine how people I didn’t even know would react.

“Well next time you think you should see something coming, a little warning might help,” Caleb remarked.

Haily flashed him a look that wasn’t very nice. “Will you just... shut up?”

I raised a hand. “It’s fine, Haily,” I insisted. “He can be angry. All of you can.” I went against my better judgment and looked out my bedroom door where Joe was seated. He flipped me off. I went back to not looking in that direction.

“Well I’m pissed,” Caleb said shortly. He suddenly narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re not going to change your mind about all this?”
Haily rolled her eyes, tossed herself on my bed behind him and backhanded the back of his head. He did nothing more than wave her off like an obnoxious fly.

“I don’t think I can,” I replied, feeling rather amused despite the nature of the conversation. “It doesn’t exactly work that way.”

Caleb tugged at his blond hair and made a face. “Fine. You’re... whatever. But I don’t get why,” he added, seeming to want that clear.

I thought he might have more to add to that, but I found myself responding first. “Neither do I,” I said, shrugging helplessly. “But I really don’t think it’s going to change... When you started looking at girls... I was...”

Caleb held up a hand. “I don’t want to know,” he snapped, and then met my eyes, voice lowering. “I’m not ready for that. Not yet.”

I gave him a slow nod, deciding that a not yet was way better than a never. “Okay.”

Caleb seemed satisfied by my agreement, and I didn’t bother to point out that I wasn’t going to say anything nearly as horrifying as all the gory detail I’d listened to from him throughout my adolescence, every time he met a new girl. Instead I made a mental note to get even if the day came that he could look at me again and see more than my sexuality.

“Are we going back to school today?” Haily suddenly asked. I said that I wasn’t the same time both Caleb and Joe chimed in with no. She shrugged. “Good with me. We need time to figure this whole thing out, anyway. Obviously when Nels goes back we’re going to have a problem. We can’t...”

“Hey,” I cut her off, feeling both touched and worried about her concern. “It’s not your problem. I can handle it. Besides, there’s nothing to do about it, anyway.” I was slowly accepting that.

Others, not so much. In fact, Caleb looked downright mutinous when he demanded, “You’re just going to leave it alone? Wanting dick doesn’t make Haily stupid. What’s your problem?”

Haily took another shot at the back of his head, but this time it was more on her behalf than mine. However, this time, I was willing to be offended, too. “I’m out, Caleb. I can’t change it, so obviously the only thing I can do is leave it alone and listen to people make shitty comments like that one. Didn’t say I was happy about it, I said I can handle it. If you can’t, go.”

“Oh, I’m about ready to go,” Joe said from behind me. I lowered my eyes, refraining from looking at him.

To my surprise, so did Caleb. “Don’t be an idiot,” he snapped. “The whole reason we’re here is because you do need us, especially if sitting on your ass is your way of handling it.”

The whole reason they were here. I blinked a few times, self-consciously ran my hand over my face to cover anything it might give away about what that meant to me. Not that I wouldn’t have wanted any of them to know. I just didn’t want to fall apart over it in front of them.

“He kind of has a point, Nelson,” Haily said, her tone a lot kinder than Caleb’s was, and I found myself looking at her as I tried to remember what we were talking about.

When I did, I frowned. “You want me to fight this?” I looked at Caleb. “This isn’t something you can just beat up.”

“Assface is,” Caleb remarked.

“So is Milo Trust,” Joe said, and this time I did turn to face him. Turn on him, more like it.

“Leave him the fuck out of this.”

Joe’s brow knitted at my tone, his face twisting in anger, but I didn’t have long to pay attention to it.

“Why?” Haily demanded, surprising me, and I rounded on her. She liked Milo. At least, I thought she was starting to. “Why should he get to cut out and leave you with all of this?”

“Because it has nothing...”

“Oh, please. It wasn’t that hard to figure out, Nelson,” Haily cut me off. “Don’t you get it? The things people are saying about you--they’re really pissed. And you look like... it makes you seem like...” She threw up her hands. “You have to tell them it’s not true.”

My face fell blank when I tried hard not to show them what I was feeling. I couldn’t do that, because for days I’d been terrified of it.

I didn’t have to ask Haily to elaborate. I knew why someone took their anger out on my locker. I wasn’t just different to them, I was scary. I was the guy who broke...like, the guy code or something. The last person I ever wanted to hurt was my so-called victim. Nelson Larmont tried to rub his gayness all over Milo Trust. And maybe my friends were right. Maybe I should want to do something about that. And I could. If the people in my bedroom decided to back me up on it, sooner or later people would start believing the truth and bring the gossip right to Milo’s door. And then it would be him.

My friends thought he deserved that. And I hated myself every time I wondered if he did. I just didn’t know how not to. My last night with Milo had felt honest. I couldn’t understand why he’d do it. He and Jame were friends. Milo had told me countless times that the asshole was loyal. He trusted Jame. Jame trusted Milo--that’s what Milo said. So if Milo wanted Jame to make sure no one would ever suspect him of being anything more than his father’s son... I couldn’t understand why he’d do it. Not to me.

I didn’t want to think about it. Not too closely. That would hurt. And sometimes the only time I’d felt I could breathe was when I knew Milo wasn’t any more capable of hurting me than I was him. Never intentionally.

“I can’t.”

I blinked, feeling a sudden shove from behind that threw me off balance when Joe pushed past me. “Why the fuck not?” he demanded. “Why can’t you just...why the fuck not, Nelson?”

“Because... I can’t.”

I wished that I could put a better reason into words than that. And I understood the reason why my friends were looking at me the way they were. They didn’t understand, and I couldn’t expect them to.

Caleb stood, maybe because Joe and I were both standing and he was tired of looking up. Maybe because I’d just said the words that had him ready to get the hell out of there and away from me. He was there because he was going to help, because that’s what friends were supposed to do, and he thought I was fighting the system. I really didn’t think I’d hold it against him if he wanted to walk away.

“I don’t see it,” Caleb said, glancing back at Haily for a moment. “I don’t think anything was easy to figure out... I thought we were hanging out with that kid because the two of you had all that artsy shit in common, and I figured that maybe he wasn’t a complete tool. But now you’re protecting him, and if you’re going to ask us to do that, too, at least say it’s because you know he’d do the same thing for you.”

“Are you kidding me?” Joe demanded, turning his anger on Caleb. “He’s the reason all this is happening.”

“Maybe we don’t know that,” Haily said quietly, eyeing me carefully. “Do you know it, Nelson?”

I didn’t know anything for sure anymore. “I’m not asking any of you for anything,” I finally said. “But you’re here, and I didn’t think you would be.” I let out a breath, tucked my hands beneath my arms because I didn’t like the way they were suddenly shaking. Haily was frowning at me, something like pity mixed with annoyance. Caleb I couldn’t quite read and Joe looked like he hadn’t been sure he’d be here, either, and maybe he was surprised by it. I understood that we were all still standing over cracked ice, but I needed to tell them where I stood, even if it meant I’d sink alone. “If any of you can’t deal with it, that’s okay... but yeah, I’m going to let everyone think whatever they want. They don’t mean anything. Milo does.”

“Milo does,” Caleb repeated, as if he couldn’t quite make sense of the words, but he was nodding slowly, considering. “I think you’re crazy.”

“But,” Haily said quickly, standing to place a hand on Caleb’s arm, and silencing whatever was about to come out of Joe’s mouth with a cold look. “We hope you’re right.”

Joe made a disgusted sound, shook his head. “Just watch. This is going to be the stupidest thing we’ve ever done.”
...........................

Monday morning I parked my car next to Caleb’s jeep, stared ahead at the school, the crowds making their way inside. It was strange, how despite everything I’d woken up that morning feeling like it might be okay to breathe again. I don’t know how, really. Friday after my mom had realized we were home, Haily, Caleb and Joe had quickly excused themselves and I hadn’t heard from them since. I spent most of the weekend alone or working in the back of one of the bakeries, wondering if anything had really been resolved. I guess it was comforting to know I had allies, even reluctant ones. But apart from Haily, I wasn’t sure how it would work with them.

As far as I could tell Joe wanted to crucify me himself before he left it to our classmates, and Caleb... I had a hard time when it came to figuring out exactly why he was angry. I’m sure there were plenty of reasons, but picking one was a challenge because I couldn’t tell if it was because I was gay, because I hadn’t told him, because of my obvious loyalty to Milo Trust, or a little of all three. Some reasons that came to mind I could be more patient with than others. And then it had occurred to me... this was supposed to be a two-way street. I could just as easily be angry with him for not accepting me for what I was as much as he was mad at me for anything. It was easy feeling that anger, especially when I couldn’t help but wonder if anything would ever go back to feeling completely normal with my friends.

Which is part of the reason why I waited for the bell to ring before I approached the school, determined to make it through at least one day. No more running. When I got closer I wished I would have found my balls a lot sooner, because seeing Caleb Spangler waiting for me was at that moment, the best thing that had ever happened to me. Or maybe it was the way his mouth twitched with a suppressed smile, probably caused by the look on my face.

“Come on,” he called when I experienced a fleeting moment of hesitation. “You’re going to make me late.”

A gently placed hand on my back as I passed him and he fell into step beside me had me smiling in his direction. “I didn’t ask you to wait.”
“Bet you wanted me to, though,” Caleb remarked, looking sure of himself.

I couldn’t help it as I suddenly regarded him seriously. “Thank you.”

His playful smile faded as he gave me a short nod. “I don’t hate you... just in case you think that.”

“Okay,” I said quietly, and when I realized he was still regarding me expectantly I added, “Maybe I thought it for just a minute.”

Caleb rolled his eyes at me. “You know I don’t react well to change.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “But you’re okay now?... We never really did get to talk about it much.”

Caleb grew serious. “Not... okay. Disappointed, I guess... I look at you and think, it’s Nelson... dude, I’ve known you forever. But then the second thing I think about is... well...” he shrugged. “It might take some time to get used to. I’ve never known anyone before who was...”

“Gay,” I helped, when he suddenly stumbled over words. “And yeah, you have. You’ve always known me.”

He awkwardly turned his eyes from me, and I came to a halt in the hallway, frowning when my eyes moved to my locker.

I’d been preparing to lay eyes on the attacks written all over it ever since we’d stepped foot in the school. I’d done my best to use Caleb as a distraction from the stares. No eye contact. With anyone. There seemed to be a method to it I was slowly learning. But I heard everything they’d whispered about me as I laid eyes on my locker. I almost didn’t want to approach it because it might make me everything the nasty phrases on it said I was.

“They should have done something about that,” Caleb said from beside me. “Come on, let’s get your stuff out, I’ll give you my combo.”

I felt a small smile against my mouth over the offer, but shook my head as I approached my own locker. “Thanks, but if I share yours it could happen there, too.”

Caleb frowned, but didn’t argue as I moved to open my locker and collect my books as I tried to remember where I was supposed to be. The halls were emptying out and I noticed fewer odd looks coming in my direction, but still Caleb stood there, waiting.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” I said quietly. “I don’t need a bodyguard, Caleb. I’m going to get through today.”

The corner of Caleb’s mouth turned up. “Yeah. You will.”
......................

When did everyone turn so ugly? Halfway through the day I felt disgusted. But I wasn’t the only one, and I think that was part of the problem. My peers looked at me as if they didn’t approve of my presence being in theirs. During class it was easy to block out. I had too much paying attention to do after missing a week of school. Except when it came to Jame Graham. Him, it was hard to face. His smugness, complete and utter joy when it came to my social downfall.

I could deal with being humbled. I’ll admit on this scale, however, it was slightly more painful. And Jame... he was too delighted about it for my utter dislike of him to be pushed away. Ignored. He was too fucking hard to ignore. And the fact that he saw Milo and I didn’t... he didn’t have to say it to flaunt it. He could tell me that with one look; did so often, every time I looked up and found his eyes on me because he’d been waiting for the chance to curl up his lip, taunt me.

There were a few reprieves for me throughout the day. No silent treatments. No noticing the gossip or the cold stares that came my way. There were friendly faces waiting for me between classes, Haily and Caleb in particular. Sometimes Joe tagged along with Haily, but he seemed to notice the stares in our direction more than I did and was usually quick to excuse himself. It was starting to bother me, this attitude of his. Maybe I had no right to feel that way, I was just feeling high-strung, vulnerable. Couldn’t help myself. But it bothered me. Made me wonder why he came around at all. Maybe one day I’d have the guts to ask him.

By lunch I was exhausted. Days of not sleeping was getting to me, and the emotional high plaguing me hour to hour was hard to shake. I went back to my locker, wanting to lighten my load before lunch, which I’d already decided would be better spent off campus. I wasn’t exactly surprised to find Caleb waiting for me again; what surprised me was the way I wasn’t instantly assaulted by bright colors and vulgar words.

I approached my new locker door while Caleb looked on approvingly, making a face only when I touched a dent in the surface. A recycled door seemed a lot better to me than a graffiti-covered one.

“Think my combination’s the same?” I asked as I spun the lock.

“Try it.”

I did and was able to unlock it, but found myself frowning when the door stuck, as if it were hung crookedly enough to cause metal to bend against metal.

Caleb reached around me, gave a firm tug and it popped open. He shrugged when I smiled at him as I opened my backpack to unload books. “Thought that counts, right?” he remarked.

“This definitely works for me,” I said, and then made a face. “Wonder how long it’ll stay clean.”

Caleb’s eyes drifted from mine. “Don’t worry,” he muttered. “I have a good idea about what to do with anyone I catch touching your locker. Don’t think it’ll be a problem.” Before I could ask him to elaborate, he asked, “So, wanna go somewhere for lunch?” The look on his face told me he already knew the answer to that, but I gave him a nod anyway.

We drove-through for burgers, then ate in a parking lot, much like the way I’d done with Chad. Caleb and I didn’t talk about things going on with me, or us. I knew that maybe, we still needed to. I was confident that eventually, we would; but the way we conversed back and forth like the last week hadn’t been hell spoke volumes for where we stood, and I found myself laughing as he caught me up on recent dreams, feeling happy for him when he explained how he’d finally had a real conversation with Ronnie that had left him wondering if he could be the kind of guy she liked to date. Meaning, less of an overall troublemaker. I think his problem was that he couldn’t figure out if he wanted her attention because she refused to give it to him, or if he really wanted to explore whatever feelings he had in that direction. Caleb had never been the type to keep a steady girlfriend. That kind of loyalty eluded him, and sometimes when he mentioned it I couldn’t help wondering if he just didn’t want to put himself out there to get hurt. I found that I couldn’t really blame him.

Getting hurt sucked. Every day I didn’t hear from Milo Trust was like another speck of salt being dropped in the wound, slowly ground in. Every night I fell asleep wanting to just let him go, and afraid to do it more than I was afraid of what would happen if we ever came face to face again. It was hard to admit it, but he was the one person who had the power to hurt me more than anyone else had during this entire debacle. Looks from Jame, disconnected phone numbers and silence all had me terrified that that’s exactly what he’d end up doing.

Caleb and I were early returning to school, something about him not wanting to be late to class. I was quick to realize it was because he wanted to walk me first, which led to the first incident of the day when someone muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “fags” under their breath and Caleb was quick to knock the guy on his ass. It was just a shove, but I’d hauled my friend away before it could escalate, suddenly worried that maybe he should keep his distance from me as much as Joe wanted to do. I mentioned it, and Caleb had all but laughed in my face.

“I will screw the girlfriend of any asshole who’s stupid enough to think that about me.” I didn’t have time to comment on the fact that saying things like he’d just said was probably part of the reason he was going to have trouble getting closer to the one girl he really liked before his eyes widened and he looked at me as if a sudden moment of clarity had just struck. “You know what, Nels? If I was a chick, I’d probably be a lesbian.”

I went to my next class feeling a little lighter, more so when I noticed Jame Graham looking a little less cocky, more interested in our teacher’s lecture. It was only later, before I went home that I found out why when I worked up the nerve to walk past Milo’s abandoned locker. I had another note for him tucked away in my backpack, that I wouldn’t slip through the cracks, that he’d never read. But I didn’t think on it much more than that when not far from it, another locker caught my attention, familiar graphics and promises of blow jobs marring its surface next to my x’d out free. As Jame Graham shoved his books into it his gaze drifted to mine, the look in his eyes expressing that he’d never wanted to kill me more.
..................

I’d made it through almost a full week of school, not realizing how much easier Caleb in particular had made it for me until the day he got sick. He’d called the night before, giving me the heads-up. I assured him I’d be fine, and thought I would be when I went to school. Haily and I saw each other less during the day, and I assured her that she didn’t need to skip class to spend lunch with me. Joe had walked me to at least one of my classes, kind of. Haily apparently had insisted on my needing an escort everywhere I went. When Joe walked ten paces behind me I’d finally turned around and snapped at him to get lost.

Two minutes later and Chuck Girckey happened.

I didn’t even really know him. Maybe from once or twice at Hangman after I’d lost my group and ended up throwing back canned beer with him and Brandon Sholer. They were teammates, Chuck’s dark hair and bronzed skin a contrast to Brandon’s light hair and golden complexion. Opposite in personality, too, as Brandon had always been outgoing while Chuck was uninterested in most people until he had a good buzz going on that had always left it a little too easy to tease him. I’ll admit I’d checked him out once or twice. Nothing extreme. Nothing more, really, than a passing interest. Admiration maybe, because he wrestled when he wasn’t playing football and all the activity had left him with a nicely toned appearance that I’d heard more than just girls comment on before. He was the type who’d worked for his body, should have been proud of it. Just, maybe not as much when he was using it to shove me into hard metal lockers.

I hadn’t exactly seen it coming. I’d made a point over the last days to avoid eye contact with anyone who might get mad at me for it. Annoyed and irritated by Joe’s mixed signals, I made my way through the hall quickly, wanting to get outside, to my car, home.

Day, over.

When someone grabbed my backpack, throwing me off balance and spinning my weight towards the locker, I had little time to react, threw my hands up and caught myself against metal with an echoing thud that stopped all conversations and footsteps around me. Even with my back to him, I recognized Chuck’s angry voice.

“You like looking at guys, huh? You never fucking look at me, Larmont!”

I blinked a few times, feeling shocked, winded. More than just a little bit angry. I wasn’t looking at him. I wasn’t the pervert he’d told himself I was, who he now told everyone around us I was, and maybe that’s why my first instinct wasn’t to simply defend the fact that I’d done nothing to provoke this attack. I wanted to defend my right to walk down these halls without something like this happening. Without needing a fucking escort who was too ashamed to be seen with me. So at the time it seemed to me like a great idea to turn around swinging.

I felt instant gratification in the way Chuck’s eyes widened as soon as he realized my fist stood a very good chance of colliding with his nose. I let my body carry into it, awaiting the moment that would burn my knuckles and hopefully give him a pretty reminder every time he looked in the mirror over the next week, not to fuck with me. But the force behind my attack was cut short when another arm hooked through mine, pulling me back.

“Whoa,” Brandon said, his hand closing around my fist, lowering it gently, but with enough pressure that warned it would be in my best interest to leave it that way. “Let’s cool this down, huh?”

The look I gave him clearly told him just how little I appreciated the interruption and then I glared at Chuck more bravely than I likely had the right to do with three other oversized teenagers ready to back him up. “Don’t flatter yourself,” I snapped, and then couldn’t help my smirk. “You’re paying more attention to me than I am to you... trying to tell me something?”

Chuck’s jaw twitched with annoyance as he took a threatening step forward only to run into Brandon’s outreached hand as he stepped between us. “Watch it, Girckey,” Brandon warned. “You heard coach. He’s worried enough about your third-grade IQ; an incident like this means he won’t touch you next season and that would tick off everyone.”

I looked at Brandon, wondering how he managed to sound sympathetic and insulting all at once. Maybe it was his unconcerned smile, dimples flashing as he drew a heavy arm over my shoulders, turned me away from the guys in the hall. There were insulting phrases slung in my direction as we walked away and Brandon’s arm tightened, as if he fully expected me to turn back around. When one of those remarks implied that Brandon would soon know the difference between a guy and a girl between the sheets and was followed by laughter, I raised an eyebrow in his direction. “You can let go,” I promised, “I’ll keep walking.”

Brandon dropped his arm, but still walked close enough that his shoulder constantly threatened to brush mine. “I’ll walk you out,” he said.

I frowned at that. “Look...”

“You okay?” he cut me off, his blue eyes taking an accessing sweep that took me somewhat off guard.

“Oh yeah,” I replied, unable to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. “Never better. I always did want to get up close and personal with that locker back there.”

The corners of his full bottom lip arched upwards, and I found myself returning his smile, maybe because he was regarding me with more curiosity than the pity I tended to get from my friends.

“Someone told Chuck you were into him. Now he’s freaked out.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah. That’s me. Can’t control myself.”

Brandon smirked. “Bitter much?”

I let out a breath, feeling bad that I wasn’t exactly being social. He’d probably just done me a huge favor, but he was right, I felt bitter and that cancelled everything else out. And I felt guarded. I’d never had to put up a wall before. Now I felt like I’d built it in a day and I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to take it down, not as long as I risked running into people like Chuck.

“I’m sorry. Look, you should go,” I said as we left the school and headed for the parking lot. “Um... thanks, okay?”

Brandon rolled his eyes at me, gave my shoulder a friendly shove and stepped out towards rows of parked cars with me. “Where are you at?” he asked, and when I regarded him speculatively, he threw one of his gentler smiles in my direction. “I want to walk with you, Nelson. Not that you can’t handle yourself or anything.”

“Are you trying to make me feel better?”

“Is it working?”

“No,” I admitted, but gave him a nod. “I’m way in the back... and I really can get there on my own.”

He shrugged one shoulder, slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans but stayed with me, his blue eyes slanted in my direction from beneath the straight blond bangs that had fallen over them. “I haven’t seen much of you around lately.”

“Bet you’ve heard plenty, though,” I mumbled, frowning at myself when I saw him look awkwardly away. It was like I was managing to get ruder by the moment and I wasn’t sure how the hell to stop it.

But then, it’s not like this wasn’t awkward. At least for me. I wasn’t out to guilt anyone. Especially him. But my reputation was ass-up in the gutter at the moment and I wasn’t interested in pretending otherwise. I guess, unfortunately for Brandon, making normal conversation was out for me, too, since I had a pretty good idea of why he was interested in walking me to my car... why he’d come to my rescue in the first place. A couple weeks ago I might have been fascinated by that reason. Now I was wary of it. He’d have to bring it up. I wasn’t sure I could live through one more bad reaction from someone who I actually liked.

“Do you want to hang out sometime?” he suddenly asked. Blurted, more like it.

My gaze moved curiously back in his direction. “Hang out?”

Brandon shrugged, suddenly looking like avoiding my eyes was his only goal in life. “...Sometime,” he repeated. “I just don’t want you to think....” He reluctantly turned in my direction, his eyes focused on my sweater. “I’m not like them, Nelson.”

I felt a gentle smile curving my mouth. “I think you just proved that,” I said sincerely and he looked up, grinning at my tone.

“So maybe sometime?” he asked again. “It would be cool to... talk.”

I gave a slow nod that seemed oddly uncomfortable. “Sure.” Thanks? Maybe?

I guess it would be an understatement to say that any friend was a good friend at this point and time... and I was grateful to be able to count someone like Brandon among them. But he confused me. Which, I’ll admit doesn’t make sense because he was making quite a few things completely obvious.

Looking back, thinking on it--which I had--I suppose a lot of things had been obvious with him. But knowing it now... after... I found it all more regretful than helpful.

I spotted my car, not liking the way I felt relieved because it seemed to be in one piece. Not liking the way I’d almost assumed it wouldn’t be. “Um... I’m just over here,” I said, pausing to face him again. “Thanks again, Brandon. Really.” I tried out a smile, not sure how it was coming across. I couldn’t help wanting to get away from him as soon as possible. But it really wasn’t personal; I wanted away from everyone.

He nodded slowly, looking as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how to do it.

“I should really get out of here,” I said.

“Sure... I guess, I’ll see you later.”

I nodded. Another forced smile. As soon as he started walking away my keys were out, hand shaking as I tried to fit it into the lock. I scratched paint, cursed under my breath but managed to tear the door open, tuck myself inside. My knuckles went white against the steering wheel and I assured myself that the deep, ragged breaths I was suddenly taking wouldn’t make me pass out.

Damn it. Fuck. Take your moment, dumbass, move on.

I felt too unsettled. Everything was too smothering. Stupid Chuck Girkey and his stupid... stupidness. I told myself I wasn’t afraid of people like him. People like him were people who were afraid of me. I could hear myself somewhere in the back of my mind, insistent upon using that information for my own benefit. Let him be afraid. Make him afraid.

Never, ever let them get to you.

Any of them.

But I felt hollowed out, used. Didn’t understand what had just happened. Being attacked for something that made me different. I don’t think I knew how to get angry over it just yet. I was still shaken over it. And I was alone. Possibly by choice. Yeah, definitely by choice. I didn’t want to do this, fall apart like this in front of anyone.

No good. I needed some sort of slowdown, the moment of clarity that was missing, that was supposed to make my brain work again. Make the ringing in my ears stop.

That happened when my passenger door suddenly opened, making me jump. I looked up, met Brandon Sholer’s eyes as he slid into my car with an awkward smile, closed the door behind him. “So,” he said, “I don’t actually have a car, and my ride just took off on me. How about we skip hanging out sometime and just do it now?”
..........................

I’d invited him over. I’m not sure I’d even meant to.

But I think I’d wanted to.

Yeah. I had. I think I saw him as an end to my self-inflicted alone time. Brandon Sholer, my newest distraction.

We were halfway to my house when he said, “Do you think you can take me home later? I need to be there by six, I told Grace Howard I’d take her out tonight.”

“I don’t know her,” I said as if that was important, and then shook my head at myself. “Um, yeah. I’ll get you there.”

No secret that Brandon Sholer dated girls. What was more the mystery was whether or not he would if he had other options. Was he looking for other options? I eyed him sidelong, trying to pay attention as he told me about the most recent pranks and trouble he and his friends from the team had been up to. I think I laughed in all the appropriate places because his grin was approving as he continuously shoved his blond bangs away from his eyes, flashed the dimples. I’d bet girls loved the dimples. I liked them. I liked him... I liked that he was speaking to me as if he had no idea I was suddenly socially contagious. By the time we reached my house I was almost relaxed. At least, somewhat comfortable, bringing him over. That was, until my mom made it known she was home and gushed all over Brandon like he was the second coming.

My mom had met Brandon once or twice. He’d been over before, on my birthday, and he’d even made appearances at various barbeques. To walk into my house that afternoon anyone would have made the mistake that she’d known him forever. But then, I understood what she was doing. It had been a few weeks since I’d had friends over. Haily had dropped by twice, Caleb once. Not for very long. I think my mom saw Brandon and quickly decided that maybe things weren’t so bad for me after all. It became downright embarrassing when she asked if she could call his mom and see if she’d let him stay for dinner, so I politely told her that he already had plans and we needed to get some studying in before it was time for him to go.

That’s how we’d ended up alone in my room.

“You were kidding about the studying, right?” Brandon remarked, glancing over his shoulder with a half smile as he descended the stairs ahead of me, and then turned his attention to my bedroom when we reached it. Like a lot of people that passed the doorway, his attention was drawn to my cartoonist drawings, faces he could recognize. “I forgot you could draw,” he said, and then looked back at me curiously. “You still write, too?”

My brow flew up. “Yeah, I guess. Not lately... how did you...”

He flashed me an amused smile. “You don’t remember the seventh grade, do you?” he asked, shaking his head but not seeming all that surprised. “We had Mr. Felon... he caught you writing something that didn’t belong in his class, made you read it...”

“Oh, shit,” I said, unable to avoid my smile even as I felt the color rising to my face. “The weird alien thing...” I winced, not mentioning I still had that unfinished story lying around somewhere.

“It wasn’t weird. A lot nicer to listen to than Mr. Felon.”

“Thanks... but I think now I’m beginning to realize why seventh grade was a blur. I probably blocked it out.”

Brandon laughed, walked a circle around my room and finally seated himself on my bed, bouncing the mattress a few times before he settled and looked up at me, his tone more serious than the playful expression on his face. “Was probably a lot easier then, than now, though, huh?”

The reminder took me off guard, had me suddenly avoiding his eyes and trying to compose myself before I made the mistake of telling him that he was supposed to be a better distraction than this.

Brandon seemed to pick up on the shift in my mood and was suddenly standing again, this time turned towards my collection of books, fingering each one but not seeming interested in the titles. “Seventh grade was worse for me,” he said. “I thought my parents were going to get divorced.” He shot me a backwards glance, a knowing look. “They probably should’ve. Oh, and do you remember Chase Morrick?” Brandon shook his head. “Probably not, huh? He was only around for maybe a year and then moved. I went down on him and then he knocked out my front tooth. Dentist does good work, huh?”

He was tapping one of the straight white teeth filling his mouth, looking as happy as ever, but his eyes were suddenly avoiding me. I could imagine why, and did my best to wipe the look of shocked horror off my face. “Um...”

“So I get it,” he cut me off. “That people can react the way you never expected them to.”

He was back to staring at my books while I stood there stupidly, knowing that I was supposed to react to that but not knowing how to. Probably because I was stuck on wondering if I was a terrible person for being turned on and feeling terrible for him all at the same time, and then there was the way that Milo crept into my mind, the way I wanted to call him and gossip about Brandon Sholer, share these new pieces of information with him because it was Milo, and he was the one I wanted to talk to, share this kind of thing with, and right now he was the only one who I couldn’t.

Not that Brandon’s secret wasn’t safe with me. I think, if anything, I’d learned exactly how to keep a secret. And Brandon sharing this with me... I really did feel for him. I remembered the way Milo reacted the first time I’d worked up the guts to put myself out there with him. I remembered how much it had hurt, and I could only imagine how bad it would have felt if he’d held off reacting until after something completely monumental had happened between us. Brandon was right, I didn’t remember Chase Morrick, but I felt an instant dislike for him.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” I said finally, not sure what else would sound right.

Brandon’s reaction was to turn around, meet my eyes with one of his more carefree expressions that clearly told me he wasn’t the type to invite or expect pity. He moved across the room, stood only feet from me as he cocked his head and regarded me curiously. “Like I said, I just wanted to tell you I know what it’s like... and I don’t really know what you’re going through now. But if you want to talk...”

I did. I did want to talk. There was only so much I could say to my family without feeling awkward. Even I had limits in that regard. My friends had figured out enough for themselves that it wouldn’t seem like an instant betrayal to Milo to tell them how I was feeling, but Joe was out of the question, Caleb would be uncomfortable and Haily would try to fix it, which was pretty damn scary when I thought too much about it. Brandon might understand. Maybe. And I think, all I wanted to talk about was how I missed Milo Trust. I wanted to acknowledge to someone other than myself how much it hurt, how much I doubted and hoped all at the same time.

But when it came to Brandon, he’d made the same assumptions about what kind of person I was, just like everyone else had. The only difference was, he hadn’t judged me for it. That’s why I dreaded the next question he asked.

Smile inviting, dimples playful. “I mean... what happened with Milo Trust, anyway?”
I opened my mouth, closed it again. “I...”

He sensed my hesitation, didn’t look bothered by it. “Just curious... you know, about what made you go in that direction,” he said, as if he thought that particular decision on my part had something lacking. “It’s just... Milo? You should learn how to read people better.”

“Yeah. Guess so.” When it came to Milo Trust, I thought I’d read him pretty well. In more ways than one. He’d liked how I read him, damn it.

“You know, I could show you,” Brandon said, his hand suddenly reaching out, catching my wrist as he gave me a tug towards my bed.

“I...”

He seated us, as if suddenly wanting to be more comfortable, and I found myself scooting away from the way his thigh touched mine, but stopped when I realized he was going to keep following me.

“Losing that tooth was an eye opener,” Brandon continued. “With Chase, I got this feeling about him... got so wound up it never even occurred to me that he’d flip shit five minutes after the fact... but not everyone’s like him, like Milo,” he said, sounding reassuring.

He still hadn’t let go of my wrist. I stared down at the way his fingers wrapped around it, his thumb tracing the bone. “Well, yeah, but...”

“Of course, Chase was just hung up on his closet while Milo’s just not interested, right? But sort of the same thing... I mean, they’re both the kind of people that people like me and you shouldn’t be interested in.”

“People like you and me...” I repeated blankly. People like Milo. People like Milo were interested in people like me. He’d said so. He’d shown me, and now he was gone.

I stared at Brandon’s fingers again, the way they lifted my hand, the tips of them studying even more thoroughly than his blue eyes were doing. I wanted to snatch it away from him as much as I wanted to use it to latch on, either effort on my part ending with letting him know just how wrong he was about Milo Trust. Milo wasn’t Chase. Couldn’t be.

“I knew you weren’t like that,” Brandon said, his voice dropping a notch. He was looking at me again, eyes taking in my features. I couldn’t meet them, too busy staring at our hands. His hand. Tanned, calloused fingers, little white scars across the knuckles. Short, clean nails. The way they slid over the palm of my hand sent a chill down my spine, pleasant and nervous. I found myself sliding my hips away from him even while he was suddenly leaning so close I could feel his bangs brush against my forehead, his warm shoulder firm against mine. “I know you like me.”
I felt my voice, working its way past the sudden knot in my throat. Embarrassed, excited, stupid knot. “How?” I asked, feeling a little offended, too. How come me and not Milo? How come no one suspected Milo? I didn’t want to be the one responsible. I didn’t want to be the one who’d managed to wreck things for us. For him. What if all of this had happened because I was stupid enough to ever look at him in the first place? What if I was the one who’d destroyed everything for him?

When Brandon spoke, he sounded bemused, his words snapping my eyes back to his. “For starters,” he said wryly, “I know you look at my ass more than you do my face.”

I flushed, but seemed suddenly unable to help the way my grin matched his. “Nothing personal.”

Brandon shook his head. “That’s okay. I like watching you look.”

I think I actually giggled.

I also found myself straightening, pulling my hand away, and trying to wash the most self-satisfied look ever off my face. I’d had dreams like this. Except in them, I didn’t recall my stomach uncomfortably twisting the way it did when I noticed that even letting go of Brandon’s hand didn’t prevent the way he was touching my arm. Tone growing serious, I said, “Look, Brandon, I think...this isn’t something...”

My mouth opened under his, maybe it was the abrupt impact of his firm lips. Shock. Silent plea for help. Any of those things might open a mouth. He felt soft, his tongue aggressive enough that I hadn’t realized its presence until it was teasing and pressing against mine. I felt myself responding to him for a fleeting instant while my eyes widened, right before I lifted a hand to his shoulder, pulling away, pushing him away.

I think I sounded winded, way more breathless than I should have been for such a short kiss and I quickly regretted the satisfied look that put in Brandon’s eyes.

“Wait a minute,” I insisted, feeling stupid for even suggesting it. But if only this had happened before. Maybe. I think... only if it had happened before maybe I never would have spoken to MiloTrust. Maybe. I didn’t like what thinking about that did to my chest. Pressed it, strangled it, hurt it. “Brandon, I can’t...” Because I’m not ready. “I don’t think I want...”

“Your mom isn’t coming down here anytime soon, right?” he suddenly asked, his gaze drifting to my lap as a secretive smile crossed his mouth. “I’ll get you off.”

Well, that was forward. I was suddenly on my feet, somewhere around the time his fingers were at the hem of my jeans, seeming as if the way I was suddenly standing in front of him was all the invitation they needed. I’d had dreams like this, too. Except, I hadn’t felt so trapped, guilty for feeling even flattered.

Swallowing, my hands flew to cover his, my jaw feeling heavy as my eyes widened on him and I said the only thing that came to mind in a strange tone that didn’t sound anything like me. “Before your date?”

Slowly, his eyes came up to meet mine, and he let go of me to move his hand over his face almost soothingly, like it had just been slapped. I closed my eyes for a brief moment, feeling like an idiot.

But still...

“Okay,” he said carefully, his gaze growing accessing. I wanted to hide from it.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said quickly. Because in part I could totally understand what he could be thinking and why. It wasn’t like he’d made any promises to me. One fucking kiss wasn’t exactly a display of commitment, and I didn’t expect him to confess his undying gayness and cancel his date or anything like that. Actually, I didn’t want him to do anything like that at all. I found myself shaking my head, taking a few steps back because I didn’t know how to be anywhere near him at the moment. Because there was someone else. Because I couldn’t even think about how I felt about one of my biggest crushes or what he wanted with me while I was still waiting... wondering... while I was still with Milo. Milo, who could be laughing at me right now. No. He wouldn’t. I could see his green eyes, the way thick, dark lashes cast shadows down his cheeks when he looked at me. I could hear the soft sigh he let out when I got close to him. That was real. If it wasn’t, well then I might have to kill him. Milo. Because when I thought about him, the pressure weighing down on my chest, the churning, horrible knots that developed when I wondered if I’d ever see him again, those things were real. They were real, and during the occasional overdramatic moment, I was pretty sure that they were killing me. That’s what I wanted Brandon Sholer to know. “I can’t...” I said, both to what I wanted to tell him and what he wanted to do with me. “It’s really not you...” I paused at his disgusted snort, the roll of his eyes. Brandon Sholer, and I was offending the hell out of him. “Seriously, it’s not,” I said, feeling snappish when he stood. My tone got his attention.

“Hey, no worries, Nelson. I get it.” He didn’t sound like he was even trying to make that sound sincere. His smile was gone, his eyes were elsewhere.

“But you don’t,” I insisted, not sure why I was pushing this.

He sighed, regarded me warily as he tugged at his blond bangs. “I think... would you mind getting me home now?”

Longest, awkward ride ever. He looked dejected. I tried to think of ways to let him know I hadn’t been trying to reject him, except then I realized that was exactly what I’d done. What I’d meant to do. If only he knew why... I opened my mouth, several times, wanting to tell him. Maybe it was stupid that I didn’t, all because I could also see Milo’s eyes, hurt and terrified of the truth I was helping him avoid.

Brandon Sholer had come to my rescue, confided something I doubted he’d ever mentioned to anyone else, threw himself at me and I’d let him walk away silently, leaving me to wonder if I could still consider him among my friends.

I wanted to hate Brandon Sholer. Just like I wanted to hate Milo Trust. I don’t think I was capable of doing either, but it would have made things a hell of a lot easier.
...............................

By Friday, Caleb was back in school, and I felt like I’d passed through the day like a zombie. I hadn’t slept well the night before, and I couldn’t count how many times I’d caught myself yawning through my classes while I ignored the knots in my stomach that told me I was different every time I looked over my classmates.

I wished that I could go back.

I wanted to stop feeling numb. I wanted to smile and mean it. When I walked out to the parking lot at lunch with Caleb I wanted Milo to be waiting, ready to spend the next hour with us talking about stupid things, eye me with an interest that was just between the two of us, even while Caleb went on and on about whatever was on his mind this week. I wanted...

My hand shook as I reached into my locker between the last two classes of the day, the folded slip of paper slipping carefully between my fingertips. I found myself shielding it with my body, eyes straining to see sentences made out for just me as I unfolded it in the privacy of my locker.

Nelson--I wanted...

“Hey, sorry. Got held up in my last class,” Caleb said as he approached from behind. I was quick to slip the note into my pocket, turn around. Not quick enough to hide the look on my face. Caleb frowned at me. “Are you okay?”

I nodded slowly, tried to make enough eye contact to end his concern. “Just wanting the day to be over.”

“We can skip if you want.”

That did make me smile. “Can’t. I still have too much catching up to do.”

Caleb shrugged, walked with me when I closed my locker and headed to my next class. “We should do something this weekend. Get you out of the house.”

I eyed him warily. “I don’t think crowds are a good idea.”

Caleb frowned. “Just think about it, okay?”

I gave him a nod, made no promises. The minute we reached my class and he headed off on his own, I turned around, headed to the nearest restroom and locked myself in a stall. My fingers fumbled with the note as I pulled it out of my pocket, frowning at the way I’d left it crinkled, torn. I opened it, my eyes scanning black ink. Yeah. I wanted to hate Brandon because he’d slipped a note into my locker, and Milo because he hadn’t.

Nelson--I wanted to check up, make sure I didn’t weird you out or anything. I think I might have given you the wrong impression. Something about you brings the idiot out in me. Wouldn’t mind talking about it some time.

I let out a breath. Neither would I. But then, I didn’t know if I had it in me now to figure out Brandon Sholer. It’s not like I hadn’t been thinking about him. He’d kind of made it hard not to.

And then the note. I almost hadn’t come to school today, confused about Brandon. Confused about Milo. Brandon wanted to talk again.

He thought I got the wrong idea.

I knew he had.

I splashed water on my face, walked into my last class late. I’d been late a lot lately, should’ve known better by now and ignored the way everyone eyed me and the teacher dropped a slip of paper on my desk. Another invite to talk to a school counselor. Third one that week. I didn’t go. I didn’t want to go. If I did I was afraid of what I would say. Word salad. Crazy. Because I’m broken, and I can’t fix it... and it doesn’t just fit back together. It doesn’t.. It doesn’t stick! How am I supposed to fix it, huh? How am I supposed to fix it if I don’t work anymore?

I felt frustrated, uncharacteristically sweaty as I walked out of class at the end of the day. I was gross. Caleb was with me by the time I walked outside, and it was hard to pay attention to what he was saying.

“... maybe a movie or something? I’ll call you tonight, unless you just want to come over and hang out, but I’ll have my niece for a few hours...”

My feet stopped moving. Caleb didn’t seem to notice. Perfect timing, I guess, the way a girl from his French class stopped to ask him something about an assignment. She was being too obvious. Caleb couldn’t speak a word of French. Give him five minutes or less, he’d ask her out. All obvious. Not like dark-haired boys who drove green Hondas with dents in the door.

It was parked against the curb and he was waiting, studying his fingers like he was bored when I knew better, knew he was vexed by a speck of paint beneath his nails that he couldn’t quite get to. He looked up when someone passed by his front window, reached across his car to unlock the door for Jame Graham. I watched silently, frozen as he started his car. And then it was like the first time I’d ever seen him as his head turned slowly, like he’d heard his name but couldn’t quite tell what direction it was coming from. Green eyes stopped on me.

I took a step forward, small but steady, bracing myself for when he turned away, drove away. Told me everything I needed to know.

But this wasn’t like the first time I met him because suddenly his hands were on his keys, they were leaving the ignition and his door was opening.

Milo stepped out of his car, paused long enough for Jame to suddenly catch up to him, pull him back when he saw what had Milo’s attention. Me. That’s right, Assface. And Milo shook him off. I wanted to go help. Another step forward, and the smile left my face.

He didn’t know. Milo didn’t know. He was there and he wanted to see me and he didn’t know. But maybe I knew enough. Looking around I felt panic rising. Students everywhere. The gossip. Viciousness I was ready to feel the bite of behind smiles that were too deceivingly friendly. I’d promised Milo wouldn’t have to feel that. Not like I did.

The buzzing that had been floating through my mind, the constant headache of it all stopped. I stopped, trying not to see the way his full mouth turned down when he realized what I was doing when I turned away from him.

Walked away.

Back into the school, through the crowd. Away from him as Caleb followed, confused, and I made up a story about leaving something in my last class. I didn’t look back. If I did, Milo wouldn’t be there and it would hurt again, and I’d hate myself because this time, I was the one who’d caused it.
.....................

“Nelson,” Caleb said patiently. “I think it’s safe to leave now.”

“What?” I turned back, noticing he’d stopped in the hall just outside of the last classroom I’d checked for a notebook that technically didn’t exist. Caleb had been following me around for at least the last fifteen minutes, and obviously he wasn’t interested in doubling that time.

“Haily and Joe are waiting... and, I’m guessing Milo’s gone by now.” Before I had a chance to react to that, he turned on his heel, meaning to leave the almost-empty school and my wild-goose-chase behind.

Letting out a breath I found myself slowly following after him, my eyes stuck on the black backpack between his shoulder blades. “You saw Milo?”

Caleb glanced back, slowed his steps until I caught up and then stared straight ahead. “I would’ve offered to get rid of him, but then I started thinking, doesn’t make much sense for you to want me to... why didn’t you talk to him?”

I frowned, still shaking over the moment I’d realized that coming face to face with Milo Trust again was possible. Happening. “Because if I did that here, he’d be as out as I am.”

Caleb made a disgusted sound, not interested in hiding his disapproval over the situation. “So?”

“So,” I snapped, suddenly growing irritated. “I...”

“You what?” Caleb demanded when I didn’t continue.

I closed my eyes briefly, wishing myself calm. I felt like I was on the edge of something, some big emotional high that wanted to throw me into something hard and then crash down from above all at the same time. Relief, because Milo hadn’t run away from me as fast as he could, didn’t look at me like I was something to regret. Frustration, because Caleb had called me on my bullshit excuse for running away and downright hatred towards myself for giving up what could have been the only chance I’d ever get to speak to Milo again, regardless of my reasons.

“You wouldn’t get it. You don’t want to get it.”

I was being short with him, and Caleb was quick to sound offended. “That’s because you won’t explain it to me.”

“You said you didn’t want me to,” I retorted.

Caleb suddenly stopped walking and gave my shoulder a strong enough shove to send me back a few paces. “Don’t do that!” he snapped. “I’m... trying, Nelson. I told you to give me time, not to fucking shut me out. So don’t stand there and talk to me like it’s my fault you’re miserable. I get you’re pissed off about everything going on, but maybe things wouldn’t be happening like this if you’d just tell the truth!”

I felt my teeth grinding. “The truth is I promised him, Caleb. I’m the one who pushed him, and I promised that if he let me get close it wouldn’t hurt him... will you-- just look at the people in this town! I’ve known all of them... I grew up here, and now I can’t even walk into church with my family and my mom comes back on Sundays pretending she hasn’t been crying. I know what people are talking about, behind my back, and I hate that I can’t walk through a crowd without checking to see who’s there first because I don’t want the wrong person to feel like I’m trying to piss them off by breathing the same air as they are. If I told the truth... if everyone knew, then he’d have to feel that, too. It would be everything I told him wouldn’t happen.”

“You like him.” Caleb said it as if it were the first time the thought had ever occurred to him, and I couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped me.

“Yes. You fucking moron, I like him.”

Caleb narrowed his eyes on me, leaned in my direction. “Then stop taking it out on everyone around you and do something about it.”

“Like what?” I demanded. “I can’t talk to him when he shows up here because he has no idea what that would do to him. I can’t call him, his number’s disconnected. Probably because his dad walked in on us right after Jame did.” Caleb’s eyes widened appropriately because no one was supposed to know about that particular detail except my family. “I fucked it all up, Caleb. Not even sure how I did it, but I fucked it up.”

Caleb stared at me for so long without saying anything that I felt myself deflating, felt the loss creeping up again.

“Nels ... even if you did, what’s gonna make you feel better now?” I met his eyes and his lopsided grin appeared over his cleft chin. “And what do you want me to do to help?”