For You, I Would (boyxboy)

Chapter 31

Spending the last few days cuddled up with Ely in his bed or on his couch watching movies was incredibly nice. It was relaxing, and a much needed distraction from the long week ahead of me. I also really enjoyed seeing Anton and Skylar more. It was cute seeing how those three interacted. It reminded me a lot of how I used to be with Gunner when I still lived at home.

I was pleasantly surprised that the weekend went so well, though. There had been no mishaps with my sleeping arrangement. Unless you counted Friday night. Skylar had decided to stay the night, and after we’d all headed off to bed, it was already three in the morning. Despite my nap previous in the night, I had been a little worried about the late hour.

I was quite proud of myself, though. And also proud of Ely. I’d had the most minor of minor panic attacks. It basically could hardly be counted as a panic attack because it was so small. I think it only lasted for a minute and a half. And all I had done was start to have trouble breathing. But then Ely had come back into the room after using the bathroom and had sat me down and calmed me.

I could tell he was worried about me. I could also tell that he felt guilty. He never admitted it out loud, but I tried to reassure him that I was fine. That he wasn’t forcing me out of my comfort zone and that I wanted to stay. Because I did want to stay and sometimes it was good to try new things. I just needed to be more careful about it.

So the night went by with no terrors. That was phenomenal. I would have felt horrible if I had put Ely through that kind of stressful situation. Not to mention, it would have been a blast trying to explain that one to Anton and Skylar. I most definitely didn’t want them to know about my nightmares. Some secrets I needed to keep as quiet as possible.

Saturday, I’d finally gotten to take Ely out. Just like I had been wanting to do for a week. It wasn’t anything major. We went out to a nice dinner at The Grove and then we went right back to his house. It was simple, but it was perfect. Just spending time with him, holding his hand in public, getting to know more and more about him was the best way I could have ever spent a weekend.

That night, we’d settled in early. It was a kind of a ‘better safe than sorry’ thing. We had pulled all (from my point of view, at least, because there were so many) of the extra blankets and pillows in the house down to the living room. We pushed the couches out of the way and Ely had put a movie on to fall asleep to, cuddled in each other’s arms. Sunday was just a really lazy day. We napped, ate junk food, played video games, and watched movies the entire day. It was sort of like the ideal way to spend time with one another.

Of course, something always has to go wrong, though. It turned out that Ely’s mom was not getting home Monday evening like she was supposed to. She called at six this morning and said she was only ten minutes away. So even though Ely had another hour before school, and I had a few more than that before my first class, we’d had to rush and get me out of there as soon as possible.

The whole escape mission thing was kind of fun. Except for the part that it was insanely early. I hated early mornings after slow weekends. It was like the polar opposite of the previous days--something I was not prepared for. Then, because I didn’t want to go home so early in case I woke Nialler up, I’d gone to campus and gotten breakfast at the dining hall. I also had to just sit around in there for another hour. It was boring, but I was texting Ely, so that made it a little more bearable.

As for Nialler, I was pretty nervous thinking about him. I knew I needed to get out this weekend, to give him some space, but it still sucked. He was my best friend. I just really hoped he didn’t hate me. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t really surprised that he hadn’t tried to call or text me all weekend. Maybe he really was mad at me. I mean, Friday hadn’t gone very well, but I thought that was all the more reason for him to try and talk to me.

I sighed as I pushed my key into the lock on my apartment door. I hadn’t seen Nialler anywhere on campus. Normally, I might see him walking to a class across the courtyard or something, but not today. I opened the door and saw that his shoes were in their usual spot. The thought that he might have skipped his classes today crossed my mind and I frowned.

My phone buzzed and I pulled it out after locking the door. It was just Ely telling me that he would call me after he ate dinner with his mom and Anton. I answered with a quick agreement and put my phone away.

As soon as I took one step further into the room, I heard a door slam angrily. Almost immediately after that I heard loud music start to play. That wouldn’t have been so alarming if it were the stupid ‘top 40’ songs playing or even angry metal music. But no, what I heard drifting down the hall was neither of those. It was a collection of Nialler’s favorite French songs.

I winced when I came to that realization. Nialler always listened to those songs when he drew or painted. So under different circumstances, this wouldn’t be a strange phenomenon. Although, there was one other reason he blared this music. That was when he was extremely angry or upset. It was possible that he was just working on some new project of his, but something inside me knew that wasn’t the case. Nialler hadn’t talked to me in days. He was definitely unhappy with me.

I frowned deeply and walked to my own bedroom. I knew Nialler wouldn’t want to talk to me. If I tried, we’d more than likely get into a fight. When he was pissed off like this, he could be very vocal and maybe even a little mean. His emotions always ran high and he never bothered to censor his words.

I remembered one time his brother purposefully ruined one of Nialler’s half-finished paintings when we were seventeen. I was present for the whole fiasco. At least twice I feared that Mick wasn’t even going to live long enough to get his driver’s license. They’d gotten into a very heated discussion on how much they hated each other. Then when Mick threw a punch, I had barely intervened before Nialler had made his little brother’s face unrecognizable. To top it all off, Nialler and I were the ones to be grounded for a week and a half.

I shook my head and went to sit on top of my bed. I stared at the ceiling, wondering how long Nialler was going to hole up in his room. His music really was loud now that I was closer to the source of it. I had homework to do and I would never be able to concentrate on writing a five-page paper on Shanghai’s urbanization with French words being sung at a maximum volume.

I pulled out my laptop and figured I could at least try to do a little bit of research before I had to go to work in a few hours. Hopefully Nialler would shut his music off after a little while.

The joke was on me, though, because nearly an hour later, I was going crazy. Nialler must really have been angry with me. Despite knowing how bad of an idea it was, I found myself on my feet and headed toward Nialler’s bedroom.

I hesitated right before I forced myself to knock. In any other situation I would have let it go. But this paper was important. And I really did not want to go to the library. I always felt claustrophobic in libraries. It was too quiet and there were so many people. Not to mention, it was always noisy in there even if it was a universal rule that you were to be quiet in such establishments.

It came as no surprise when Nialler didn’t immediately rush to the door, apologize, and turn his music down to a more bearable volume. If anything, he might have turned it up, but I wasn’t quite sure. I sighed and knocked again, this time harder, and called his name loudly through the door.

I was rewarded with absolutely nothing, so I kept knocking. I was bound and determined to get his attention. I was not going to walk away before Nialler answered his door and, at the very least, acknowledged my existence. Five minutes later, my wish was answered. Although, the look on Nialler’s face almost made me wish I’d never approached his door in the first place.

“What the fuck do you want?” he asked bitterly.

I flinched. Nialler was hardly ever this blunt, especially with me. I stood there, having no clue what to say even though I had made it this far. My mouth was hanging slightly open from the shock of how utterly angry my best friend looked. His eyes were narrowed and his lips set into a grimace.

Nialler was wearing old, slim-fitting jeans and a plain grey t-shirt. My eyes focused on his shirt. The front of it was coated in splatters of black, deep blue, and dark purple paint. I trailed my gaze down to his now-crossed arms and his strong hands. Sure enough there was dried paint on his skin.

I moved my eyes back up to Nialler’s. Anger and resentment were clouding out the hazel colour that used to be so beautiful.

“Well?” he asked harshly.

“I-I don’t...I mean, I just--” I stuttered, embarrassing myself.

“Is there a reason you’re here?” he snapped.

I took a quick breath to calm myself. I flickered my eyes across his face, not really wanting to hold unpleasant eye contact for too long. “I’m sorry,” I said as clearly as I could.

Nialler snorted. “For what?” I could tell he sounded like he was trying not to laugh at me. “For standing out here looking like a complete idiot? Or how about for wasting my time? It’s not like I have anything better to do,” he said sarcastically, “than listen to you stumble over your words like such a pathetic loser.”

I dropped my gaze as soon as he started talking to me. I felt so stupid. I should have never tried to talk to him. I knew Nialler didn't really mean what he said to me, but the words still hurt. I was getting upset and I couldn’t bear to look at my best friend. I didn’t want him to see the tears that were starting to form.

Nialler let out a laugh. It wasn’t a humorless one, which made me feel worse. He was laughing normally. It was as if he was actually enjoying this. Like he wanted to see me look so sad and ashamed. As I thought about it, I realized he was probably trying to get back at me for breaking up with him. He wanted me to hurt like he had the other night.

“Just go away,” he said quietly.

Nialler lifted his hand up and placed it on my chest. He gently, but firmly, pushed me backwards. I could tell he wasn’t trying to hurt me or anything, but I was still surprised enough to trip over my foot. My eyes widened and my jaw dropped open as I stumbled into the wall behind me.

Nialler threw a quick, sympathetic look at me before he slammed his door shut. I stared at it, not knowing what in the world had just happened. I slowly slid down the wall, pulling my knees up to my chest. I dropped my head down into my hands.

Everything was just a mess. Nialler practically hated me and even if he didn’t, I figured he should. I know I wasn’t the only one at fault here, he promised me he cared about me. He told me that I was the only one important to him and yet he still cheated on me. Even though he’d done all of that, I felt horrible anyway.

I let the tears fall silently. The annoying sound of French words being sung continued to drift through the closed door. All it did was remind me how much pain Nialler was in. It also hurt me more. Yet, for some reason, I couldn’t get up and walk away. I simply sat there, crying like a little child. I nearly started to hate myself as the minutes ticked by.

After a while, my phone went off loudly in my pocket. I wiped my tears and retrieved it. I almost wanted to start bawling when I saw who it was. Whatever they had to say, was not going to make anything better.

“Hello?” I asked quietly, hoping that would hide the sadness in my voice.

“Change of plans,” Melissa said hastily. Her voice was full of authority. “I need you here, now. So get off your ass and start driving.”

She never gave me another chance to speak. Melissa just hung up, assuming that I would listen to her. I always listened to her. She wasn’t really my boss. It was more the other way around since I paid her kind of like an employee to be my manager. Still, without her doing everything for me--setting up all of my appointments, business meetings, photo shoots, and all that jazz, I’d be lost. Not to mention, broke.

So I did as she said, feeling completely miserable, and stood up. I walked down the hall, heading for the front door. I pulled my shoes on, grabbed my keys from my pocket, and left.