Destiny's Witch (BxB)

Chapter 18: Lay down your arms

Perry

David's idea of ditching school is dropping by the local pizzeria and grabbing two large pizzas before heading to the beach.

I am not complaining, though the air is not too warm this time of the year. It feels just right today. The weariness of following David Gilbert to places unknown melted away when he allowed me to order a large pizza and cinnamon sticks to myself.

Although, I soon realize any food he ordered is automatically shared between us. The human compactor himself makes sure to snake a piece of my hamburger pizza after he finished his entire supreme pizza. I surrender half of the cinnamon sticks as well.

We sit along the shore, watching as the waves leave and return. The faded sports towel beneath us holds up nicely against the sand.

It feels like being in a different hemisphere. The comfort I feel with him is confusing. All the anger and sadness I usually feel being around him is lessened. It is the best decision I have made today.

David grows suspiciously quiet as I finish off the last of the hamburger pizza. He watches as I finish the piece. I roll my eyes as my phone beeps for the seventh time.

"You can answer it, if you want." David says.

"No, it's just my dad...or my mom...or my friends."

"Wow," David says, "is that how it is now? I see why I haven't gotten a text back."

"You didn't get a text back because I haven't heard from you since before summer started." I speak.

David nods. "Fair enough. Muy Estupido." He says.

The air between us grows awkward for the first time since we made our space on the beach. I lean back against the sand, propped up by my elbows, and let the warmth of the sun penetrate my skin.

"Maybe if I'd have called, I'd have—I don't know. Maybe you wouldn't be so distant." David says. "It feels like you're different now. I've been watching you since I got back and you're not the same guy."

"That's very strange of you to do and admit. Good job." I say.

"I was a jerk. I'm sorry." David says.

David's previous apology felt disingenuous, as if he was apologizing because he knows he did something wrong. It never felt as if he knew what he did wrong, so I never felt receptive to it. His tone has changed. It makes me feel like he is starting to comprehend why I am mad.

"Okay, Gilbert, what is it you want from me? You've impressed upon me that you're straight, so exactly what do you want from me?" I ask.

"Don't do that!"

"Do what?" I ask.

"That! Make it seem like this is all so easy. I'm confused. I admit it." David says. "I can't be gay. What would my dad think? Or the guys? I don't want to live my life defending myself for being—"

"Yourself?"

"We're not all you. We can't all be out and proud." David says. "Besides, what I feel for you isn't about that. It's not about me wanting to wear a flag or march in a parade, okay? That doesn't give me the same feeling as when I kiss you."

I push myself back up to his level. "Being gay isn't about a flag or marching in a parade. It's not even really about sex, I don't think. It's a stupid label that people use to make sense of why I'm not interested in girls when the reality is it's nobody's business." I say. "What do you want from me, Davey?"

"More, I guess. I just have no clue what that means." David says.

"And that's sad. Because if you had asked me, I would have been all into you. I care about you. I—I want you in my life in a very specific way." I say. "But I can't force you. I can't be mad at you, either."

"I've been an el carajo to you. I never meant to hurt you." David says. "Was that thing in the stall about me?"

"I have no clue what that was about, but it wasn't just about you."

"If I contributed to it, I apologize. I can't apologize enough, you know?" David says. "Can we start over? Just be us without everything that happened?"

"No." I say. "You're the first person I've ever given that much to. I can't reset everything to make my mind try to see you as anything else."

"And how is that? How do you see me?" He asks.

"Special." I say.

David's expression is imperceptible for a few moments before his hand moves to settle over mine. His touch sends a spark up my arm I have not felt in months. It feels familiar and tragic at the same time.

Before I can move my hand, he moves closer to me, leaning in to kiss me. I hesitate as I wait for the voice in my head to tell me to run.

It does not.

My body instinctively moves towards his as our lips meet again. The softness of his lips against mine remind me of how tender he is without trying. His persona is ripped to shreds by the mere touch of his lips on mine.

I no longer want to fight what I feel for him. Of all the battles I am fighting, this is the one I have no qualms surrendering to.