Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
You're so Weird - 6. Chapter 6
The sound of someone emptying the dishwasher downstairs wakes me up. Liam is still sleeping soundlessly, facing away from me. Just like last morning, I feel guilty and really stupid.
“He totally started it. It's not my fault,” I think to myself, and it does bring some comfort. But only some. I realize I have no other choice but to come out to him. If he finds out that I’m gay and that I’ve been hiding it just to fool around, he'll be furious. The sooner I do it, the better. Let's face it. I can’t hide my sexuality in the long run. It's like trying to hide a giant hornet in your mouth, or a miniature sun in a rickety old shed. I need to let it out, or else it will eat me from the inside.
Fuck. Liam's tank top. Technically my tank top now. It's still under his bed, hopefully.
As quietly as I can, I get up from my bed and pull on my shorts over my bare butt. I freeze for a few seconds to make sure Liam is breathing evenly, then tiptoe closer and dive under his bed. It's not there. I'm sure that's where I left it. Did Maggie find it and throw it into the laundry? Well, it's Liam's, not mine, unless she does DNA tests or subjects us to cross-examination. Both seem unlikely, but knowing my luck…
"Hey," Liam's voice startles me, and I hit the wooden bed frame with my head. I hit it so hard I almost pass out.
"Owww…" I groan, retreating from under the bed to sit on the floor. Liam is next to me in an instant.
"Are you hurt?" he asks as my vision slowly regains focus.
"Yeah," I say, rubbing the achy spot, my pride bruised as well.
"I was about to smack your butt," he teases with a grin. "Just kidding. Let me see." Gently, he pushes my hand aside and parts my hair to inspect the damage.
"Ouch, careful," I hiss.
"There's a little cut, but you'll live," he comments playfully tousling my hair to reset it. "Oh, and if you were looking for your shirt, it's in the laundry."
"T-thanks," I say. Somehow when we're shirtless like this, it makes me just as nervous as when we're naked.
"How did you sleep?" he asks as he helps me stand up.
"I slept alright," I say without looking him in the eyes.
“Cool. Wanna do something fun today? I’m going to play basketball with the guys later, you can come with me.”
“I… I don’t play basketball.”
“Why?”
“Because. I just don’t like it.”
“Then you can come and watch. Or we can do something else.”
“I don’t know,” I say and turn back to find my clothes. “I told you I’m boring. And I’m still half-asleep.”
“Okay. Let’s talk later,” he says, but I still feel his eyes on me as I dress up. When will he realize that I’m not a morning person? I hated it when he used to ignore me, but now it’s almost too much. I have to do something.
“What?” I blurt out with frustration.
“Nothing, jeez. See you downstairs."
This is getting bad. Real bad. I can't go on like this or I'll do something I will forever regret. I shower quickly, get dressed, and go to have breakfast.
The twins are engrossed in a TV show, and Maggie is deep in conversation on the phone — with her husband, as far as I can tell. He’s just landed.
“Mike, you won’t believe this,” She pulls me aside after she's done talking. “I went ahead and bought us plane tickets. We’re jetting off next Friday, and I’ve arranged for us to stay at a hotel for two nights.”
“So soon? And for two nights?” I ask, leaving my mouth open.
“I see no point in waiting. And it doesn't make sense to fly all the way just to come back right after, am I right?”
“I guess… I mean, wow, thank you. Thank you so much.”
“Don't mention it, I'm so excited for the trip and can’t wait to see your mom. Do you think we should tell her?”
“You… you didn't tell her?” I ask and start sweating for no reason.
“Of course not. I know her. She'd say it's a waste of money and such. I can tell her now, or in a couple of days, so she doesn't have time to come up with excuses.”
Maggie isn't bluffing; she must've known my mom very well — and she hasn't changed much since.
“Thanks,” I say meekly. “Sorry for changing the subject, but you mentioned this other room that could be prepared for me. Is there something I can do to help?”
She gives me a weird look that quickly softens. “There’s really no need, Mike. It's only a matter of sorting through things and throwing most of them away. Michael and I can start that tomorrow. You can help a bit if you really want.”
“Is there anything I can start on today?” I speak quickly.
This made her really suspicious. I curse my nonexistent social skills. “Did anything happen?” she asks, tilting her head. “If there’s an issue with Liam, just let me know.”
“No, no, everything is fine,” I force a smile, but I doubt it convinces her. “I just have some free time and I thought I’d…”
“Mike…”
“Please,” I say, feeling like I'm going to start crying.
She sighs, looking away for a second, but then she smiles again. “You know, you could help by packing some things into cardboard boxes and taking them down to the driveway. Or better yet, to the garage, in case it rains tonight. There may still be some useful stuff there, or at least that’s what I keep saying to myself. But it's one big mess and you really don't…”
“Thanks,” I interrupt her and give her a quick hug. Over Maggie's shoulder, I notice Liam standing in the doorway looking very serious. Almost sad. After just a second, he turns on his heel and walks away.
Maggie breaks the hug and holds me at arm's length, looking me in the eyes. “Just promise me to take it slow today, or I'll have to cancel my night out. I'm serious. Go watch some TV, read a book. Let us do the heavy lifting this time, and I don’t mean it literally. Okay?”
“I promise,” I answer, giving her the best smile I can manage. No point in bringing her down with my lousy mood.
“That’s more like it. I'm going to pick up my husband from the airport; we'll be back in two hours with some pizzas. How does that sound?”
“Sounds great.”
“I hope so. Boys! Go get dressed, we're going to pick up Dad!”
A few minutes later she and the twins are gone, and the house feels empty. I go from one room to another but there's no trace of Liam. I'm sad and relieved at the same time; I think it’s the first time they've left me by myself. When I’m sure no one is home, I go back upstairs. I pass by Liam’s and the twins’ rooms and reach the closed door down the corridor. I cautiously pull down the doorknob and slowly open the doors. They open only two feet before they hit something heavy. Without any difficulty, I slide through the opening. The room is a complete mess, filled with boxes, plastic bags, and all sorts of clutter, unorganized and covered with dust.
I carefully make it to the mostly empty space in the middle and look around. It's worse than I thought. I don't even know where to start. But I know I have to do something, even if just for my own sanity.
After giving it some thought, I go to get some large trash bags from the kitchen and slowly start filling them with papers, old toys, clothes, and countless other things, trying to organize them the best I can. I wonder what this room was supposed to be in the first place. Were they planning another child? I bet it started with one thing left there out of laziness and then it accumulated over the years.
Then something catches my attention. A framed picture of who must be a little Liam holding a sports trophy. I blow off the dust and wipe the glass clean with my fingertips. He looks younger than the twins in this photo. His happy smile full of even white teeth is contagious and I find myself smiling back. He doesn't smile like this much anymore, at least not for me. Why would he?
“Hey,” I hear a voice behind me, and I hastily put away the photo, but it's too late. Liam comes closer and picks it up.
“Back when I was on the swimming team. Good times,” he says, and carefully places it on a shelf. “What are you doing?”
I stand up slowly and look at him. Something is very wrong. He's glowing again. I want to kiss him, I want to punch him, I want to run away and never come back. I want to tell him everything that's on my mind, spill my heart out, and ruin everything before it's even started.
“Nothing,” I say, spreading out my arms, pointing at nothing in particular. “Just helping clean this up.”
“Uh huh. That's a lot of work.”
“It's okay.”
Liam focuses on an unremarkable pile of papers before speaking again. “You’re really going to miss the private bathroom.”
I shrug. “At least you’ll get yours back.”
“I told you, I don't mind,” he says.
“I know.”
Liam sighs and places the framed picture on a dusty shelf, young him smiling at us happily despite the dense atmosphere.
“So why are you in such a rush to change rooms?”
I don’t answer. I wish I could, but it’s too much for my dumb brain to put into words. Instead, I pick some old clothes from the floor and put them into a bag. Liam seems to be waiting for an answer, but I can’t find the words
Then he just sighs, grabs another trash bag and starts picking stuff from the floor.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“What you see. Helping you.”
“You don’t have to. It’s my job.”
“If you don’t like me, then the sooner we get this room ready for you, the better,” he says bitterly.
“What gave you the idea that I don’t like you?” I raise my voice and drop everything back on the floor.
“If it’s not that, then tell me. Clearly, something is wrong. Is it because of what we did?”
“No! Yes. I mean, no! Ugh!”
I sit on the floor and bury my face in my arms. Why does he have to keep digging? Why can’t we do it the easy way? If we open Pandora's box, nothing will be the same again, ever. I don’t see but feel him kneeling in front of me.
“Mike…”
“What?” I ask, not daring to look up.
“I don’t know… I mean, I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have done anything. Not with how much you’ve got on your plate. I was stupid, but I felt like we vibed a lot. I know I acted like a jerk when you first came here, but…”
“But what?”
“I just don’t want you to hate me. I know it can be hard to start over, but can we at least try?”
“I don’t hate you! Are you dumb?” I blurt out, finally looking at him.
“Yeah, maybe I’m dumb. So what? Can’t you just tell me what’s the matter?”
I sigh, looking at the floor. This is it, heaven or hell. Nothing in between.
“Do you know why we decided to move out? Why my mom sold the house?” I ask slowly, struggling with every word.
He hesitates for a moment. “I mean, your mom got sick, and…”
“It’s not just that. Yes, we needed money, but we didn’t have to skip town.”
“Okay. Then tell me. Can you please tell me? Whatever it is, I won’t judge you. Here,” he says, extending his pinky. I let out a sad chuckle. Really? I shake my head and reach out with my own pinky before getting serious again.
“Fine. I… I did something bad. I had this friend… I mean, I thought he was a friend. We got along well, but then one day things started turning sour."
“Why?”
“Well…” I pause, searching for the right words. “He noticed that I was becoming distant, and he thought it was because I didn’t like him anymore. I couldn’t stand that. So I told him… I told him that…”
“Take it easy,” Liam says, placing his hand on my knee, sending a shiver down my spine. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to remember the day that started it all. I haven't gone there in a while, but now somehow I feel safe enough to try.
“I told him," I start, avoiding eye contact, "that my problem wasn’t that I hated him. I told him that my problem was the opposite. That I liked him too much.”
“I see. And how did he react?”
My throat tightens, and I clear it before continuing. “He… he didn’t understand. He asked me what I meant by that. I really tried to explain, but I couldn’t. So instead of saying, I…” I stop mid-sentence, looking at Liam with wide eyes. The feeling of that day comes back to me with full force, making me both happy and devastated at the same time.
Slowly, I lean in and place a soft kiss on Liam’s cheek.
Then I quickly pull back, overwhelmed by a mix of dread and relief. Happiness and sorrow. Cowardice and bravery all at once. Brain empty, emotions taking over. Liam's still looking at me with full attention. I shrink, expecting him to explode at any second. But he doesn't.
“And then… and then we had to move out,” I say, wrapping up the story.
“What was his name?” he just whispers.
“Does it matter?” I whisper back, my head spinning.
“Is that what you did to him?”
“Kind of. He backed away before I could…”
“I didn’t back away.”
“You didn’t.”
He leans in and kisses me on the mouth. The kiss is quick, our mouths barely open, but it’s like being struck by lightning. I keep my eyes closed for a few seconds, letting the sensation wash over me. When I open them again, Liam’s smiling, almost like the young boy in the photograph.
“You won’t have to move out ever again. Not if you don’t want to,” he says, gripping my hands.
“Really?”
“Yeah. So please, don’t move out.”
We kiss again, this time for a long time. We part our lips slightly, and Liam tilts his head to the left to avoid bumping noses. Suddenly, I understand why kissing is such a big deal in movies. It feels like a flood of pure joy is being poured into my mouth, radiating warmth throughout my body. When Liam places his hand on the back of my head, I nearly lose it. After what seems like an eternity, we finally part, and I manage a weak smile.
“That felt good,” Liam says. “Looks like we started on the wrong foot.”
“You could say that,” I reply, feeling cozy with the warmth of his hands.
“Let’s take it slow this time, okay?”
“Just not too slow,” I joke, and start laughing uncontrollably, not because it was funny, but because I feel relieved. I can’t believe this is happening to me.
“Sure, not too slow,” Liam agrees, then gets to his feet and pulls me up with him. “Come on, let’s leave this mess for my folks to handle. Let’s go back to our room.”
- 12
- 37
- 1
- 3
- 4
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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