Can't Look Away - 3. Chapter 3

“I’m not going.” Ian sits on the edge of his bed, kicking at an empty soda can on the floor.

“Yeah, you are. I told dad we’d both come.” The bag I pull out of the closet has a slight odor to it, like it got wet and didn’t dry properly. I look inside and find a wet towel. I throw it into the laundry basket and shake the bag out.

“You know I don’t like going down there.” He stares off, his eyes pointed toward a bulletin board with doodles he and Dex draw during class, but his eyes are vacant.

“It’s just for a few days. We’ll leave tomorrow after school and come back Monday. We can walk around, see if we can find that old graveyard. You don’t even have to talk to him.” I say this, but I know our dad will make it a point to talk to Ian. I don’t know why, but he always finds something to pick at, to disparage in the way Ian sits or eats his steak or combs his hair, to lecture on the value of whatever physical, spiritual, or intellectual quality he finds deficient in Ian. It’s always been clear to both Ian and I that dad prefers me, and neither of us are quite sure why. In fact, dad and Ian have way more in common than dad and I do. And that thing, the one big thing, is music. Dad is almost virtuosic. He has an entire room dedicated to music and musical instruments. And while I can play, only Ian can match Dad’s talent.

Ian licks his lips in the way he does when he gets anxious. He twirls his hair and sighs deeply.

“Pack me some clothes, I guess.” This is a tradition we have. Me packing his bag, as if I will magically imbue the choices against criticism. “I was supposed to go downtown with Dex.”

My heart skips a few beats. “What?”

“We were gonna sneak in to Area X to see The Harpies. I have a soft spot for all-female rock bands, especially local ones.”

“Mom wouldn’t like you going downtown.”

“Mom wouldn’t like that you’re forcing me to go to Dad’s because of a stupid wooden box.”

“It’s a---“ But he’s up and walking toward the door before I finish. I follow him out, because I hate that he’s upset because of me.

I find him on the living room couch, his arms crossed like a stubborn two-year-old. I sit down next to him. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. But I’d really be grateful if you do.” I know I am manipulating him. I know that I am using him as a way to get what I want, but this I our relationship.

He sighs and sinks into the cushions. His hands find their way to his face, covering it, as if they are shielding him. “You know how much I hate going down there.” His voice is muffled under his hands.

“I know.”

The only sound is the central air conditioning pushing out air into the house. He sits up quickly, his hands flying from his face. He looks at me with a wild look. “You owe me.”

I nod. “Okay. What do you want?”

“Will you answer a question…truthfully?”

I panic slightly. Has he noticed something? “Okay.”

“Really, why did you break up with Karli?”

How do I even begin to answer this? Before, I’d just given him non-answers, like I needed a break or “time to think.” But it felt wrong lying to him now. But I didn’t want to tell him the reason why, either.

“Well, um, I just thought that, um…” I hadn’t looked at him up to that point, but when I did, he had the most earnest look on his face, like I could say anything and it would be okay. “I kissed someone else and I just needed time to figure stuff out, like, in my head.”

His face didn’t really change at first. Then he looked confused. “You kissed someone else? Why? When? Who?” His questions came faster than I could think about the answers. I shouldn’t have said even that because now I feel panicky, like the control I had is slipping away into the cold air.

“It doesn’t matter.”

He looks at me, his eyes squinting and his head tilted slightly. I will him not to press, to keep this distance. Ian and I used to tell each other everything. We shared everything: clothes, a room, words, secrets. But at some point, it stopped. We closed each other out. I knew he kept secrets from me, like I did from him. His clothes changed and I stopped taking them. I found my own words to replace the ones he used.

His look softens. “You can tell me, Zane.”

For a moment, I really want to tell him. To explain how for a while I’ve looked at Dex and saw more than just his goofy friend. How I didn’t know how to explain, wasn’t sure if I’d found the right words yet. Because I still liked Karli. I still liked girls. I wasn’t gay. Right? Gay guys don’t like girls. There was nothing to tell. So, instead of saying everything I should have said, what comes out is only a misdirect. A bomb lobbed to make everything turn the other direction.

“Karli thinks that Dex has a crush on you.”

He looks at me for a few seconds, his face set in a hazy look and I think that maybe he didn’t hear me. But then, his face contorts, starting with his eyes squinting and his mouth tightening and his head tilting a bit.

“Are you fucking with me?” He doesn’t sound angry or even confused, maybe a bit incredulous.

“No! She told me the other day. She thinks that Dex has a crush on you…” I leave it hanging, the last note in my voice asking for a response.

He looks away, out the French doors that lead to our back patio. He exhales. “No, Dex doesn’t have a crush on me.”

“How do you know? It isn’t like he’d tell you something like that, right?” I am egging on, mostly because I want an answer. I want to know if Ian thinks Dex likes him because I actually want to know if Dex does like him, in which I mean I want to know if Dex doesn’t like me, or at least the inside of me.

He’s silent for a second, still not looking at me. He is twirling his fingers in the fringe of a throw pillow and his legs are bouncing.

“So, like, can we really talk? Like, twin-to-twin, no judgement?”

My heart skips a little bit because this isn’t something we do. Tell secrets. Open up. This is something we’ve always saved for others. Most people think twins share some secret language, and maybe we do, or at least did. But for a while, this has been our relationship: not telling.

I nod my head, but realize he still isn’t looking at me, so I say, “Sure.” My voice is squeaky coming out, mainly because I have no idea what he is about to say. I’m hoping that it is that Dex likes me and Ian says he wants Dex and I to be together and he won’t tell anyone.

He finally looks at me. Well, not exactly at me, his eyes linger somewhere slightly to the left of my face.

“Do you remember when we were thirteen and I begged mom to take us to see Across the Universe because I needed to know how badly they butchered The Beatles? And you talked so much shit to me in private, about how you couldn’t believe I wanted to see it and shit, but I always defended myself saying I just wanted to see the train wreck. But when I cried at the end because “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” is like my favorite song and I just couldn’t help it, you just hugged me? You didn’t say a word. Didn’t give me shit. Were just…there.”

I nod, but don’t say anything.

“That was a really hard year. For all of us, because of, like, the divorce and stuff. But it was hard for me to. Because I was struggling with stuff and I didn’t feel like I could talk about it with anyone. And I wanted to be able to talk about it with you. I really did. But I couldn’t. I still don’t think I can. But I just want you to know that you mean a lot to me. So, I really hope what I am about to say doesn’t upset you.”

I look at him harder now, confused. He’s looking at me now, his face set and serious, looking like he may cry, which is unusual for Ian. He’s usually a goofball who can’t take anything seriously.

“So, like, I know Dex doesn’t like me like that. Because he had the chance to, like, be with me and he didn’t take it and so he just doesn’t feel that way about me.”

I look at him for a minute, not quite sure I understand what he’s saying. “What do you mean ‘he had the chance’?”

He makes a sound I can’t identify, like half a whimper and half a laugh. “I mean, like, I wanted something more and he didn’t and so now we’re just friends. Like, I liked Dex and he wasn’t on board and so nothing happened.”

We’re both quiet for a minute. The air conditioner seems louder than ever. “So, like, you’re gay?”

He does let out a laugh now, but not with much humor. “I guess that’s what they call it.”

My head is spinning a bit, because this kind of comes out of nowhere for me. Ian is gay? He liked Dex? Dex didn’t like him?

I must have a frown on my face or something because Ian stands up and mutters something that sounds like shudnasedang and starts to walk off. But even though by brain is moving too slow for language, my body’s not. I stand up and pull him toward me. I wrap my arms around him and I feel him arms tense at first but then relax, his breath slowing.

I don’t say anything, but just hug him until he squirms and pulls away. His eyes are a little puffy, like he may have cried but the tears aren’t there anymore. “God, you almost suffocated me.”

I smile and cuff him on the head. “So, who all knows?”

“Only Dex. And you, now, I guess. Weird. Although, Dex and I don’t really talk about it. It was awkward for a few weeks after I told him that I liked him and we kind of just never mentioned it again. He gives me weird knowing glances sometimes, but nothing, like, explicit. So, yeah, I don’t know what Karli thinks she sees, but it’s not like that.”

“How long ago was that?”

He’s quiet for a second. “Like two years ago? A year and a half? I don’t know. It was right after he got back from Korea, remember? We got drunk on soju and I, like, spilled my fucking guts and tried to, like, make out with him. It was so embarrassing.”

I nod, agreeing, but also thinking about this. About how this all complicates things even more than I thought. Dex didn’t like Ian. But Dex did kiss me. “Do you still like, have feelings for him?”

He laughs. “No. Well…no. I can’t, because it can’t be a thing.”

I just nod, because I can’t isn’t the same as I don’t.

He shoves me a lightly. “You still never told me who you kissed,” he says, winking, “Don’t worry. We’ve got all weekend for more heart-to-hearts.”