Uncertain Times

Chapter 9: The Contrapuntal Relief

"Okay. Here we go..." Eddy inhaled and exhaled, quietly jumping up and down in his room, prep-talking himself excessively so that he can conjure up the courage to have a conversation with Brett.

It's 3 pm, 24 hours after the kiss, and they hadn't spoken a word to each other since. Even Brett, who has the habit of breaking the silence first, seemed speechless this time around. Eddy, while being genuinely scared by Brett's reticence, knew that this silence cannot persist any longer. What had happened for the past few weeks (or 10 years) is surely difficult to elucidate, but if he doesn't do something about it, he'd be out of his mind.

After god-knows-how-many-more deep breaths, Eddy stepped out of his room. Now, it's Eddy's turn to quietly approach Brett's room and knock, just like what Brett did when he was upset.

The hallway was simultaneously too short for Eddy to mentally prepare himself (if he ever could, that is) and too long for him to wait for this to be over. Still, Eddy dawdled and loitered. Standing outside Brett's doorstep, he waited, hyperventilated, and finally, knocked.

He heard Brett getting up. The door opened in front of him.

"Sup," Brett said, expressionlessly.

"Hi, Brett," Eddy swallowed.

"Do you want to come in?"

"Sure."

The distance and formality that suddenly appeared in-between them made Eddy shiver. Still, he sat down at the edge of Brett's bed (well, technically, his bed) as he used to, with his head bowed and hands clasped. Sitting only a few inches away from him, Brett was still quiet and impassive.

No matter what Brett thinks of him, Eddy thought, he'd have to say something.

"So...how are you?" Eddy asked, and regretted. What kind of a question is that? It's only been 24 hours, you know?

"I'm okay, actually," Brett mused, "how are you though?"

"Confused, mostly."

"Do you want to address what happened, then?" Brett said matter-of-factly, as if he is putting the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle in place. Eddy's clasped hands tightened. He suddenly felt sweaty, even a bit faint.

"...only 'cause it seems to be bothering you, I think," Brett added, clearly sensing Eddy's discomfort, "it's up to you."

"I'm sorry, for what I did," Eddy's mouth was dry, "I'm sorry if I have overstepped your boundaries and if you want to stop being friends with me...I will make my own peace with that."

"Well...it's not that bad," Brett said after a brief pause.

Eddy couldn't believe what he heard: he simply can't understand it. With extreme caution, Eddy had no other choice but to ask Brett to elaborate.

"I thought it's only natural. I never would want to assume that you like me in a more-than-friendly way, but, apparently, you do, whether you yourself knew it or not. And now I know it too. Don't be sorry for how you feel. As for what you did, I didn't hate it."

"Then...do you feel the same way?" Eddy lifted his head and ventured, softly.

"Do you want me to feel the same way?" Brett stared back with the same softness.

"How is that supposed to mean? Either you do, or you don't." Eddy frowned.

"It's not that simple for me. And for you too, I believe. I would condition myself not to feel a certain way when it is not the optimal choice. I am aware that this is probably unhealthy, but I am just used to compartmentalising my feelings when they become a hindrance. So, when it comes to this...I don't even know how I feel. After all these years, the rationalising is pretty much on autopilot now."