That Feeling - 3. Is it okay?

I shouldn’t be like this. I’m lying in my bed and I know I shouldn’t be like this. Why can’t it all just be easier? Why couldn’t my life just be easier? But who am I trying to convince? My life isn’t so hard, not really. Wow, I’m gay. Whoop-dee-do. Millions of people in the world are gay and just fine, right? At least I’m not starving or being murdered in a war or being abused or something. I’m an upper-middle-class brat crying all the time because I’m gay and I don’t know how to deal with it. And that just makes me hate myself even more, because why does it even matter? But it does matter to me and I can’t just forget about it, it’s always there and since I have absolutely no other problems it consumes me and that makes me sick. What I am is selfish. Because only a selfish person is so consumed with their own problems that they forget about everyone and everything and lay in their beds crying because they love Knox Brashier and want to kiss him, but know it will never happen. So I’m a selfish wreck, but I can’t change. Change is too hard and who really wants to change anyways, even if change will make you happier and maybe feel alive again, because like I said: change is hard.

My phone is ringing and I really don’t want to talk to anyone, but it’s Avery and I can’t just ignore her. I already feel bad that she is my fake girlfriend and I’d feel unnecessarily cruel to ignore her phone call.

“Hello.”

“Caleb! Hey.”

“Hey baby. What’s up?” I hated calling her baby, but I’m the great pretender.

“Just thinking about you...I didn’t see you this afternoon! You were supposed to wait on me after fifth period! Knox said you had to meet a teacher or something.”

“Yeah, I had to talk to Mrs. Deneuve about my test.”

“Good news, I hope?”

“Oh, um, yeah. She misgraded it, so I showed her the mistake and she fixed it.”

“Overachiever.”

“I’m not the future salutatorian.”

“Yeah, well, I take ownership of being an overachiever….So are you getting along better with Knox now?”

“What?”

“It’s just, you and him seem to be getting along better and so I was wondering if you’re actually getting along better or if you’re just pretending so I don’t get mad at you.” Oh, honey, if you only knew.

“I’m not pretending...I mean, he’s okay. I’m just not jumping on the bandwagon just yet. But I can put up with him just fine, I guess.”

“Why don’t you like him? And be honest.”

“What? I don’t not like him, I just don’t know him really.” What am I saying?

“You haven’t given him a chance, Caleb. He’s been hanging out with us for what...four months almost, and you don’t know him well enough to like him, but you don’t give him a chance. You never hang out with him, unless someone else is with you, and then you ignore him. If you do talk to him it’s only superficial crap, and when he tries to talk to you, you either ignore him or growl out an answer. I just want to know what the problem is, Caleb.” What am I supposed to say? How can I answer that? But she’s right. I’m a complete bitch to Knox and that kills me, but what else can I do.

“I don’t know, Avery. I guess it’s harder for me to make friends than it is for you and the others.”

“Ugh, I know that, Caleb. But Knox is a nice guy, and you’ve had plenty of opportunities to get to know him, but it feels like you purposefully don’t. “

“Why is my being friends with Knox important to you anyways? I’m dating you, not him.” But I wish it was him I was dating, so there.

“Hmmmph. Gosh, Caleb! It’s just, he’s a nice guy and you’re the only person who can’t see it and I think it upsets him that you’re such a jerk to him….Listen Caleb, I don’t want to argue with you and I’ve got homework to do anyways. I’ll just see you in the morning, okay?”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye, Caleb.”

And I hung up the phone feeling worse than when I answered it. Because now Avery was upset with me. And it’s still all Knox’s fault, no matter how much I’ve done to upset him. I know Avery likes him likes him and that’s why she wants us to be friends so bad, because she feels guilty about liking a guy when she’s dating me, especially if I don’t like the guy. And of course I’m jealous that she likes him too, because if Avery and I ever broke up, of course he’d go out with Avery and then I’d be all alone, because who wants stupid old me when they can have a pretty girl like Avery or even if he is into guys, he could have someone like Clark McDonnell, the only out gay guy I can think of, who is by far hotter than I’ll ever pretend to be. I’d be all alone, and part of me wants that so I wouldn’t have to pretend, but another part of me would rather just die. But like I’ve said before, I’m not suicidal, so don’t worry. I’m just lost. Maybe it would be better to tell someone so it’s not festering inside of me like some infection. But who would I tell? I don’t have any friends. I mean, I have “friends,” but they only know the pretend me and I can’t be real with them even for a second without everything threatening to fall apart. I guess I could tell Knox. Tell him everything and then beg for his understanding and help and friendship and maybe a little kiss just to know what it’s like to touch his lips. I even go as far as to open the text messaging app on my phone and touch his name. There are mostly grey bubbles from him. I’ve only ever replied with the occasional “yeah,” mostly confirming group plans.

I suddenly feel sick. I think I love this guy, but I barely even know him. Sure, I know the way his voice falls when he talks and the way his curls brush his collar when he wears a polo shirt and I know that one time when he bent over and I saw the waistband of his American Eagle boxer-briefs, because how could I forget, and I know that goofy grin he gets when Jake tries to be funny. But I don’t know anything about him, not really. I don’t know his favorite color or his favorite food. I don’t know anything about his family or where he’s from except he moved here from Texas, but what city is beyond me. I don’t know what he wants to do after high school or what he wants to do for a career or any of his thoughts about life. Does he read? I love to read, but no one really knows that, how could they? Can I love someone who doesn’t like to read? What kind of music does he like? Does he like rap or country? Can I love someone who likes both? I like both, kind of, if I think about it, what if he can’t stand either? Is he into politics? Is he a conservative? Does he go to church? What if he hates gays and I tell him and he hates me? Can I stand someone I think I love hating me? And suddenly my world comes crashing down and I feel that feeling in my stomach like someone has shoveled out all my insides and now I’m empty. I look back at the phone. The green bubbles are so tiny and meaningless and how can I even say I love someone when I don’t even know them at all. And suddenly it seems less important to carry on the act and more important to know Knox because I’m already falling apart, everything has already started to slip out of place, so what is one green bubble that means something more than some kind of calculated cool I’ve been putting up for the past four months, even when my insides boil at the tiniest glimpse of him. So with trembling fingers I type in that little box all that I can muster: 'Hey dude whats up'. It feels wrong, but I’ve already hit send and I feel disgusted with myself, because when he answers it’s going to be a question back, and I don’t know if I can control myself right now. I throw the phone to the bottom of my bed and hope to God he ignores it because why would he want to talk to me anyways, since I obviously hate him. But the phone beeps and the screen lights up and I know he’s texted me back and I can’t bring myself to look at it. God, when did I become a thirteen year old girl?

But it doesn’t matter now anyways because someone is knocking on my door and then it opens before I can even move and it’s Cassie and God, I’ve been crying and she obviously sees because she shuts the door behind her.

“Um, hello! I could have been naked!”

“Yeah, whatever, you weren’t and I don’t care anyways.” I lay my head back onto the pillow and cover my face with my hands. Here it is. Here is Cassie and she knows and she is going to drag it out of me and it is going to be a mess I don’t want to clean up. But I want to tell someone and suddenly Cassie seems like the right person, but it’s just all so confusing that I just want to explode. “You’re going to tell me what’s wrong with you.”

“What?”

“Something is wrong with you and you’re going to tell me.”

“Nothing is wrong with me, Cassie.” Lie.

“That’s what everyone thinks. That’s what you want everyone to think, but we both know that isn’t true, at least not really. Something is bothering you, and I want to know what it is. You’re so...stiff, all the time, you’re not the same Caleb I used to know and I hate it and I want to know what is wrong.”

“No one else thinks anything is wrong.”

“Exactly. Because no one else wants anything to be wrong because you seem perfectly normal, but you’re not. “

“Nothing’s wrong!”

“Then why are you crying?”

“….Allergies.” LAME! What is wrong with me? I can feel the control I’ve tried to keep slowly falling down around me and disappearing into the air.

“Bullshit, Caleb! Mom might buy that one, but after ten times that excuse doesn’t work anymore. It isn’t just allergies all the freakin’ time. You are always crying or laid up in bed, and don’t deny it because I live right over there and I’m not dumb. So tell me the truth.”

I don’t answer. I just stare at her, and the tears come falling down and I can’t stop them no matter how much I want to force them back up into my eyes or crawl under my bed and never come out or maybe even really die. And Cassie is just sitting there, staring at me, expecting me to say something. I obviously am not as good an actor as I thought because why can’t I keep it under control? But she’s staring at me so intently that I have to look away and so I start picking my fingernails and all I can think about is those words, I’m gay, and why I am so afraid of them. And maybe it’s because they mean I have to let go of something I want so badly to control. Because I was born white and male and rich and American and nothing should have come in my way, everything should have been easy for me, but here it is, that thing that people will hate me for and maybe even kill me for and there is nothing I can do about it but cry.

“I can’t, Cassie.” My voice is barely there and I don’t even know if she can hear it.

“You need to. You’re falling apart. You have to tell me what’s the matter or you’re going to go crazy.”

I’m crying more, sobbing really and I try to pull myself together, but I can’t and the more I try the worse I get, because I don’t want to pull myself together, not really. I really want to say it, but it is getting caught in my throat because I don’t want to believe it and so how can I say it like it’s nothing when right now it feels like everything. Now I have my arms wrapped around my legs. And I’m a loser. I can’t even tell my sister this thing that should be nothing, but here it is and it feels like the biggest thing to ever happen and then all of a sudden I feel light and far away and then it just spills over from where it had been bubbling there somewhere in my abdomen for years.

“I’m gay! And I’m in love with Knox and I want to kiss him but I hate him and Jake and Joey! And Avery is supposed to be my girlfriend, but I can’t even kiss her right and everything is just so fucked up because I’m a fake ugly faggot who can’t even have a friend without wanting to rip his clothes off and I’m horrible and I hate myself and it’s just all so fucked…” And my voice trails off and I feel completely empty. And there it is, all out there and Cassie is sitting there just staring at me. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. I thought it would be, but it wasn’t. I thought she’d be the best to tell, but she’s just sitting there and hasn’t said anything and I panic. What if she hates me? What if she tells my parents? Oh fuck. Oh shit. So I get up and do the only thing I can right now: I run to the bathroom. I just have to get away from her, because I can’t even stand to look at her face right now without seeing every single thing I’ve ever built up in my mind come tumbling down into nothingness.

“Caleb, wait!”

I don’t respond. What would I say? I lock the bathroom door and the other that leads to Adam’s room and fall onto the floor. Only I’m not crying anymore, I just feel empty and stupid and want to go as far away from this moment as possible. But I can hear Cassie on the other side of the door.

“Caleb, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...whatever...I was just surprised… I wasn’t expecting that. Look, come out and let’s talk. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. You don’t have to be upset. We can talk about it. I just never suspected...but that’s okay.”

She didn’t know. I thought she knew and was prodding for it, but she didn’t and now she does and she isn’t mad. Something feels lighter and I want to open the door, but I am scared to see her face, because now I’m not just her brother, but her gay brother and can I even stand that look on her face that says she knows? But I open the door anyways and there she is and she smiles and I smile back, but it’s only because that’s what I always do when someone smiles at me. She hugs me. I think that hug means more than I know because suddenly things don’t feel so bad and I feel like I’m melting and is this what it feels like to get something off your chest? That makes sense now because I feel like I can finally breath without counting how many seconds it takes to exhale because control means total control or absolute failure and I don’t need it if someone else actually knows. Because if someone knows, anyone could know and for some reason that doesn’t seem so bad and I’m not sure what I was so worried about anyways. We’re sitting on my bed now, and she is still smiling and I’m smiling now too, and maybe even laughing a little because all that stuff seems so silly thinking back.

“I’ve never heard you cuss before.”

“What?” She took me by surprise, I didn’t even realize what she was saying.

“I’ve never heard you say cuss words before. But that doesn’t matter. I’m glad you told me, Caleb. I didn’t know that’s what was bothering you, but now it makes all the sense in the world. It’s just I never even suspected.”

“I’m a good actor, I guess.”

“Too good. I bet it’s hard.”

“Yeah, so fucking hard.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It isn’t your fault, I’m just a scared little boy is all.”

“I’m guessing no one else knows.”

“Hmmph, No. Not a soul.”

“Thanks for telling me.”

“You were right. I had to tell someone or I was going to explode.”

“Yeah, well, I’m glad you told me first. Are you going to tell mom and dad?”

“Pshh. Yeah, right, that’d go over like a paper bag full of bricks.”

“You don’t give them enough credit, Caleb.”

“Have you ever met them?”

“Yes! Of course it’ll be a shock to them, but they love you and they won’t care once it sinks in, especially dad. Mom might be a harder sell, but she’ll come around too. They love you.”

“It’ll mean I’m not the perfect son.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean, Adam is...you know and they expect me to be the perfect All-American son that Adam isn’t. That’s why I play football, why I’m the president of FCA, why I work so hard to get good grades. I have to be perfect for them.” Why am I telling her this? Some things need to stay secret, right?

“I think that’s all in your head, Caleb. Mom and Dad expect you to do the best you can, but not be perfect. No one is perfect.”

“You just don’t understand. You’re not me.”

“I think that’s the problem. Maybe things don’t work quite like you think they do.”

“Are you saying I’m crazy?”

“No! I’m just saying that maybe you’ve acted so much that you aren’t able to see people really how they are. I think you’ve built up so much crap to hide behind that it’s damaged your ability to understand other people.”

“Okay, Dr. Phil.”

“I’m serious, Caleb. You really need to take a step back and reevaluate some things and then maybe you’ll see everything differently.”

“Okay.”

“Let’s talk about something else...so you have a crush on Knox Brashier?”

I fling myself backwards onto my pillow and cover my eyes with the palms of my hands. I really don’t want to go there with her, but she already knows so what the hell…”Yes.”

“And….”

“And what? Yes, I have a crush on Knox Brashier. Isn’t that enough of a confession?”

“And tell me about him. And does he like you back? And...wait, you’re still dating Avery, right? Never mind, let’s not think about her right now.” Does her mind ever stop?

“Um, well, he’s cute, but you’ve seen him, so you know what he looks like. And it’s just little things like how he chews on his pens or sometimes mispronounces words or pulls up his pants when they sag that I like. Just dumb stuff. But I guess I don’t really know much more about him at all.”

“But you’ve been friends with him for like three months.”

“I wouldn’t call us friends really.”

“Why not?”

I frowned. She’s going to have something smart to say about this and I hate that. “Well, he kind of thinks I’m a huge jerk.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been a huge jerk to him.”

“You’ve been a huge jerk to him. But you like him?”

“Ugh, I know, it sounds so pathetic when someone else says it out loud.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Okay, I’ve been mean to him because I felt like that would deflect everyone from noticing how much I actually like him. It’s dumb, and it makes me feel shitty, so I’d rather not talk about it.”

“So does he like you?”

“No. I don’t know. I’m sure he doesn’t.”

“Ooookay, well, have you ever had a boyfriend before?”

“No. I’d be too scared. I am too scared.”

“Of what?”

“Everything! I’m the biggest emotional spaz, like ever. I don’t know if I could handle something like that.”

“So, I guess you’ve never had sex with another guy, then?” I instantly blush and she smiles this huge smile that I want to pull off. “You have!”

“What!? No! I’ve, um, never had, um, you know, sex...with anyone.”

“Awe, that’s cute. My big brother is a virgin and embarrassed to talk about sex.”

“I’m not embarrassed! It’s just, I’m...okay, I’m embarrassed! Sorry, sex isn’t something I can just have a casual conversation about.”

“It’s okay. I was just teasing anyways. Are there any celebrities you think are hot?”

I smile and wiggle my eyebrows. “Ryan Gosling.”

She smiles. “He doesn’t count because even straight guys think he’s hot.”

“But straight guys don’t think about him the way I do.” I blush again and Cassie smiles.

“Sexy time with Ryan Gosling!”

“Shut up, Cassie! Oh my gosh, you’re going to be so annoying now.”

“That’s my job.” There were a few moments of silence before she speaks again. “You should break up with Avery.”

“What? I can’t break up with Avery.”

“You need to, Caleb. It isn’t fair to her, what you’re doing. She thinks your relationship is real, but it isn’t. Do it sooner rather than later. Tell her it’s because you’re gay and maybe you can salvage your friendship. If she finds out from someone else, it won’t be good.”

“I don’t know if I can do that.”

“You should.”

“What I should do and what I can do are two completely different things, Cassie. I shouldn’t be such a chicken about everything, but I am. I shouldn’t feel like shit all the time, but I do.”

“I think you should come out to Avery, and Jake and Carson and Sara too, but especially Avery. And I think you should tell Knox how you feel about him. He might not feel the same way, but I think it’ll make you feel better to get it all out.”

“You’re insane.”

“Maybe. But I think it’s better to be honest. You say you feel like shit all the time and I can totally see that, which is why I wanted to talk to you in the first place. But you feel like shit because you’re letting everything bubble up inside of you and it’s making you sick.”

“Whatever. You just don’t get it.”

She rolls her eyes and sighs. “Just think about it, Caleb. I’m going to my room now. But remember what I said.”

She pats my leg and leaves my room. But I can’t get it out of my mind. Telling everyone just seems so insane. Maybe not insane, but definitely hard. So hard. And what about that whole garbage thing? What if everything went wrong and the pile of garbage fell and I couldn’t put anything back together and I choked on banana peels and water bottles? What if I couldn’t handle the mess and then I was just another gay teen suicide statistic and Lady Gaga plastered my face all over her next tour? But then again, what if Cassie is right? What if I tell everyone and the pile of garbage falls into nice neat stacks that I can manage and even enjoy to take little walks through because its really not garbage at all, then what? And how will I ever even know unless I do it? Now someone knows, even if it is the one person I always knew would be okay, but it still feels like a win, like something tremendous happened and I could just cry with happiness. But the feeling inside, that dead feeling that always seems to tug at my stomach and sometimes overwhelms it, reminds me how hard it would be.

How can I tell Avery? I don’t know if I can stand the look in her eyes as I tear apart her world. And if Carson or Sara or Jake ever knew, then the whole school would know. What would the football team say? I’d probably quit that anyways if my dad knew I was gay, because there would be no need to fool him anymore. And what about the FCA? The FCA would impeach me, but I wouldn’t cry about it because I hate it anyways. And suddenly I realize I wouldn’t really care much at all for anyone knowing except Avery and my parents and Carson and Jake and Sara, and if they knew and were okay, then I think somehow I couldn’t care less about everything else.

My phone goes off. I recover it from the end of my bed. I had forgotten about the text I’d sent to Knox. He’d replied to my previous text with 'nothing much…' Part of me wants to die because I know what those three little dots mean. They make me want to tear out my eyes and scream and maybe even fall on a sword. Because those three little dots say everything they were supposed to leave out. They say 'why are you talking to me' or 'why do you care' or maybe even 'I hate you' and now I see that I could come out to everyone in the world, but I would still be alone, because I could never have Knox. Not ever. Maybe I’d never have any guy. I’d screwed everything up with Knox, even if he was gay, which he probably wasn’t anyways. And that makes me incredibly sad. The newest message had been from him as well. I scroll down to read it and want to sob and roll around as I do: 'is everything ok with u caleb? i think u hate me, but then sometimes im not sure. sometimes the way u look at me is weird dude and i just dont know and then that text? i just dont get u'

After reading it, I put my face into my pillow and cry.