This Is Me

Don't Blame Yourself (Part Two)

Don't Blame Yourself (Part Two)

"Mr Stone, are you planning on completing the work or will you continue to stare off into nothingness?" Ms Lane's voice slipped into my ear, and I brought my eyes back into focus to look at her.

While I technically had been looking into space and letting my mind wander while I was supposed to be doing the math work in front of me, I didn't want to admit that to my teacher.

Especially since I had already been reprimanded for being late to school... again.

"Almost done, just trying to remember the formula," I lied, quite smoothly as well, which I was proud of.

As the words slipped out of my mouth, I caught a glimpse of Leroy across the room and I could've sworn I saw a grin flick across his face, but if it had, it was gone within an instant.

"Perhaps doing one of the problems on the board will help refresh your memory."

"I think I've got it, miss."

"It wasn't a suggestion, Peter."

I hated having math three days in a row.

Letting out a sigh as Ms Lane moved away from my desk, I slinked out of my seat and made my way to the front of the class, trying to ignore the eyes that bore into the back of my head.

"I think it's twelve," a whisper came from behind me as I reached the front of the classroom and eyed the problem on the board.

It was slightly reassuring that whoever whispered the answer to me was completely wrong and even I could see that. It meant I wasn't the most incompetent student in this class.

Taking a deep breath, I picked up the closest marker to me and began trying to work out the equation Ms Lane had put on the board. To the opposite of my surprise, it was twenty times harder than anything she had put on the worksheet.

I glanced back at the class to see where Ms Lane was and saw her at Leroy's desk. My eyes lingered for a moment and everything I had been thinking about before Ms Lane butted in, came rushing back.

My conversation with Leroy. What Andy had said. The whole situation.

Everything I wish I could do. I wish I could be there for him how Blaire was there for me. Support him as my family had supported me. But I knew I couldn't. I needed to give him the space he put between us.

I hated it.

I missed him.

I hated knowing about the pain he had gone through because of who he was and all I could do was watch him slowly slip further and further away from me.

As my mind began to wander again, Ms Lane stepped away from Leroy's desk as he stood up, and I snapped back to look at the board, hoping he hadn't caught me looking.

My heart was pounding in my chest as I tried to focus all my attention on the equation, but it was hard as I heard footsteps approaching me from where Leroy was. And as they passed me, my breath hitched as a low whisper slithered into my ears.

"Solve the left first. A equals three."

The voice was so quiet I barely heard it, but I knew it was Leroy, and I had to fight the urge to turn to see him. Even if I had, the door to the classroom opened and closed before I had time to process my thoughts.

With my mind now swirling somewhat uncontrollably, I quickly wrote down what I thought Leroy meant, which could have still meant I was completely wrong, but I didn't care.

Leroy had spoken to me. Gently. Sweetly. It probably would mean nothing to anybody else, but to me it was everything. After all that had happened and what he was going through, he still wanted something to do with me.

Even if I had made his situation worse.

Not directly, but me being openly gay sure didn't help.

Putting the marker down, I turned to see Ms Lane looking the other way, helping another student. Deciding not to loiter at the front of the classroom, I moved back to my best and sat down, picking up my pen and bringing it to the worksheet in front of me.

While I was struggling to focus on the work, I did start figuring out the equations, all while my head spun around Leroy.

My answers were probably wrong. But it didn't matter. What mattered was Leroy.

I still had feelings for him, that much was clear. Hell, I still had feelings for him when I was angry with him and thought he was homophobic. So, go me.

Leroy also had feelings for me. Proper feelings. More than friend feelings. Everything said and done, that should make me happy. I should be happy.

We should be happy.

However, all our mutual feelings had been doing is driving a wedge between us and causing Leroy to go through, what I can only think of was unimaginable pain.

Though, in a way, I understood why he was doing what he was. In a sense, I did the same thing, although, he knows his outcome is bad, which gave him more reason to do so.

A part of me still wanted to be angry at him for writing out friendship off because of the situation he was in, I knew that wasn't fair. I knew he didn't want to do this, at least, I did now.

The real question was, how were we going to handle it?

Was I going to have to make it through with only the small interactions like the one we just had? Hang onto those moments as if they're the last remaining hope of our friendship?

Was Leroy only going to catch glimpses of what his life would be if his father wasn't the man he was?

Like me, Leroy no doubt spent a lot of time trying to figure out who he was and where he belonged. Unlike me, when he finally did, he was told he was wrong.

How the hell do you handle that?

Groaning silently, I looked down at the completed worksheet in front of me and resigned myself to the fact I had done most of them incorrectly, but nonetheless, I put my pen down. As I did, the classroom door opened again, and Leroy walked back in.

Quickly diverting my eyes from him I scanned around the classroom, trying to find anywhere to look but him. Unfortunately for me, as I heard his footsteps over the quiet chatter of the classroom, my eyes had other ideas.

Making their way over to steal a glance at Leroy as he sat back down at his desk, his eyes flicked toward the whiteboard, then over to me.

For a moment our eyes locked, and he gave me a grin, gesturing toward the board then giving me a thumbs up, and then it all faded.

He turned away and stayed that way for the rest of the lesson, never sparing me another second.

But for that moment, it didn't feel like our friendship was tearing at the seams.

For a moment it was like it used to be and I felt my heart lift, and the old familiar butterflies in my stomach at his smile.

For a moment, it was okay.

Maybe, for now, that's all I could hope for. Not just for me, but for Leroy, too.

Tiny moments where he could be all right.