Someday when you leave me || bxb

Chapter Eight

*Jay's Point of View*

After three weeks things were dreadful. At first, I liked how we both acted as nothing happened but he never even mentioned it, not even once. It was as if it had never happened at all which I guess was better than the alternative. And I know that it was my fault it ended but I need some form of closure. 

I've begun to question my sanity. When we hung out sometimes all I wanted to do was kiss him. I still lay awake at night thinking about him. It's like all I think about. I catch myself thinking about him constantly and trying to make myself stop only makes it worse. 

It's not even me just wanting to kiss him either, no, last night I dreamt of him. Preston held my hand and we were on the roof of my dad old's building looking at the moon. Except he was looking at the moon and I was looking at him. He was talking about the discourse on whether the sun and the moon were lovers. It felt so real. And then he caught me staring at him and he kissed me, not the "I'm so horny I would kiss anyone" kiss but a soft one, a caring one. 

And then my mom woke me up and it was all I could think about for the rest of the day. 

Now, I've zoned out again and people are clapping in my face to snap me out of it. I learned how to half-sleep with my eyes open in like third grade, it was funny when people freaked out about it.

"What," I groan. It's Preston waking me up, of course, it is. Why is he always smiling? And why is it the best thing I've ever seen?

"You were doing that creepy open-eye sleep thing," he says. "Christina thought you had died." He laughs in amusement. "Come on get up your going to be late to class."

I didn't want to go to class it was so boring, "I'm going home." I say.

"What?"

"I'm so tired, I barely slept last night," I explain. "Plus I barely skip so it's not going to make a difference."

He looks at me quizzically, the ghost of a smile still etched on his face. "You want a ride?"

"No, don't worry about it, I'll walk."

"It's like a five-mile walk," he looks at me in disbelief. "Let me drive you, I kind of want to leave anyway."

"Fine."

"Great," he smiles again. It's beautiful.

We sneak out of school. It's actually really easy. The school has a strict attendance policy but they do nothing to enforce it and people can literally leave whenever they want. 

On our way to the car I can see him type out a text to Christina he says, Feeling sick. Going home early.

She responds within seconds, Okay Babe feel better soon. I'll call you after school. 

"Where to?" He asks. 

"Mine, I want to take a nap."

"Oh wait, you're actually tired?" He says, surprised. 

"Yeah," I laugh. "I wasn't lying."

I really wasn't, I have always had a hard time sleeping it had gotten better since I was little but it was still a thing. And I've had too much to think about recently. When I would sleep with Preston it was the easiest it's ever been to sleep but there were many factors to that. 

I guess just the comfort that I was being held or because I was tired after the things we would do, I had no trouble sleeping. 

"Oh okay," he sounded almost disappointed, or maybe I was imagining it.

"What did you think "I'm tired, I barely slept last night" meant?" I laugh, he laughs too.

"I don't know."

"Um okay. Well, can I still hang around for a bit? My parents are supposed to be coming back today but I forgot what time so they could be there like right now and I don't want them to know I'm skipping."

"Yeah, of course."

When we get to my house I go straight upstairs and Preston follows. I take my hoodie off getting it off my head just in time to see Preston's eyes widen in surprise. 

"Sorry, you know I can't sleep with a shirt on."

"No, I'm sorry, that was weird."

I laugh when I'm nervous. Or when things are awkward. Or when I don't find something funny but I feel like it's supposed to be. Needless to say, I was laughing right now. 

I get under the covers on the left side of the bed because even though I sleep alone now I had gotten used to the left side. I still always wound up in the middle.

He sits down beside me casually but he stays over the covers. 

"So," he starts but doesn't finish. 

"So," I respond because silence is overrated. 

"How are you?"

"Good," I know there is something he wants to ask. I look at him knowing he's not good at keeping secrets. 

"Are you seeing anyone?" He blurts out.

"What?" I answer, astonished. "No. Why would you think that?" 

He's red, but not embarrassed. He looks relieved. I'm confused. He looks at me too now.

"Because you said you weren't sleeping? I don't know."

I feel bold, a strike of bravery, "What if I was?"

He clears his throat but looks away, so do I.

"That's fine. It's fine if you are."

"I'm not. I'm just curious why you would care."

"I wouldn't. You can date whoever you want."

"No, I can't." I really can't not yet, I have too much to figure out, too many feelings to lose. 

"What do you mean?" 

"Nothing, nothing."

"Something," he pries.

"I. . ." I start but I still don't know what to say I thought about saying I'm gay, or I think I might be gay but the words never escaped. 

"It's okay," he looks at me again. "You don't have to tell me."

When I look at him, it's unbearable, I have to look away.

"I'm sorry for prying, I'll let you sleep. I'll be downstairs."

He gets up and leaves. I fall asleep about three hundred Mississippis later.