In Motion

Chapter 14: 9 Crimes by Damien Rice (2006)

The Mad, Mad Martin checklist:

1. Refused to be driven to the MRT station last Friday

2. Ignored my texts all weekend

3. Stayed Offline/Invisible on Y!M 

4. Cut Math on Monday, guessing right that I'd be stalking him 

Avoiding me in Int Dev would be me winning the Bad Boyfriend Bingo. Or semi-boyfriend. We still hadn't talked about that.

I fidgeted in my seat as my watch read 2:30. Professor Ferrer strode in and Martin was late, like, for the first time ever. I knew he was pissed, but would he really miss class just to steer clear of me? 

The discussion was flying over my head as I kept clock-watching. 2:35... 2:40... 2:45... 

Martin finally showed up at 2:48. Instead of making his way to our usual spot, he sat on the chair by the door. No passing glance, no nothing. Just sat down, put his bag down, and looked at Ferrer.

Bingo.

I pretended to listen to the lecture, all the while trying to read Martin. He was determined to ignore me. He listened, chewed his lower lip, and took down notes. I was playing it cool but my brain was overthinking in hyperdrive. 

So he wasn't angry at Andi. He was pissed at me because I didn't tell him that she and I semi-sorta dated forever ago. Also, because it reminded him that I wasn't really gay? But being with him didn't exactly make me straight?

Yeah, okay, I'd want to punch me, too.

But hold on! Couldn't he understand just a little? Sure, I tried to date girls. But I was clear that I liked him. Not just hey-what-are-you-doing-have-you-eaten-already-hehe kind of like. Like like. As in introduce-me-to-Mr-and-Mrs-Perez-one-day kind of like. I was getting there. So maybe it'd be nice to warm up before I ran with this—with him?  

Dismissal couldn't have come sooner. I kept my notebook and paced out of the room. Martin was walking faster than usual. I had to jog to catch up with him. 

"Martin!" I called out a few steps behind him. 

He stopped in his tracks and squared his shoulders. He turned around, a blank expression on his face.

"Hey," I said, a little breathless.

"Hey," he said, his voice barely audible.

Martin was a fucking stone and it unnerved me. I could take angry or annoyed. But the empty stare made me feel that I was in such deep shit.

"I'll drive you to Math," I offered. 

"I'm not going to Math," he deadpanned.

"Can we," I began, my voice breaking. "Can we talk for a bit? Please?"

Martin let out a deep sigh. He ducked to an empty classroom and I followed him. He stood against the wall, arms crossed, eyebrows beginning to meet. I sat down on one of the chairs, head bowed.

"I uhm," I stammered. I couldn't look at Martin. "I'm sorry about last Friday."

"It's..." he trailed off, scratching his chin. "I get it. I do," he continued. But...?

"But," he sighed. "I'm gay, Kyle," he pointed out, like I needed reminding.

I glanced up at Martin. He was drawing up to his full height. It hit me how tall he was. And how broad his shoulders were. He could seem menacing if he wanted to be.

"Figure it out soon," he said, a crack of emotion coloring his voice. He began walking to the door. 

"Am I on a deadline?" I asked, a little frustrated. Martin stopped in his tracks. "You've met my parents. My best friend knows. And I don't care what people say!" I said, sounding defensive.