Gym Class Sorrow [Book 2]

And The Dreams You Left Behind You Didn't Need Them

Chris's P.O.V.

To say I fucked up, would be an understatement. I royally fucked up.

It had been a couple of weeks since Tate and I talked but I still had to see him everyday at work. He sported a hand sized bruise on his face and every time he saw me, he turned and went the other way.

Is this what it feels like to have people be afraid of you? If so, I don't like it. I don't want power over someone. I'm going to go find Tate and apologize for everything not just the bruised face.

"Chris!" The voice of my boss pierced the air. I turned my head to see Mr.Peterson, racing to my desk. He looked upset with something...perhaps my performance again. Maybe some else's performance? the whole accounting department was slacking as of late.

"Chris! You have to do something!" he puffs out just as he reaches my desk and leans over it.

I look up at him and sigh. " What is it? if you want me to come in earlier, I've already started doing-" I began to explain to him my problems with punctuality.

"No! No, no. Not you. Tate. Tate is leaving. He handed me his resignation papers this morning!" Mr. Peterson was practically having a stroke at this point. I can't say I don't see why. Tate is a helluva worker.

"What exactly do you want me to do, Mr. Peterson?" I inquire.

"Talk to him. Schmooze him. Bribe him! Hell I don't care what you do... just make sure that boy doesn't quit!" He shouts, stalking off to go find the next unlucky accountant of the day.

Well, this isn't how I imagined this going bit I may as well go before I get fired.
---------------time skip-----------------

I walked up to Tate's apartment and cautiously knocked on the door. He opened the door in nothing but a pair of a shorts.

I can't deny that he's a good looking young man but there's just something keeping me from truly being with him.

His eyes widen at the sight of me and I look down.

"Tate. We can't keep pretending nothing happened." I begin, looking up slightly.

"Sure, we can." He says emotionlessly, making to slam the door in my face. I quickly grab it before it can go closed and push myself inside the tiny apartment.

"Listen to me and listen good. I FUCKING HIT YOU! THAT SHOULD NEVER HAVE HAPPENED! I'm so goddamn sorry!" I sobbed out. I didn't even realized the tears were pouring down my face until I felt a pair of arms wrap around me.

"It's okay. I never even blamed you. I just didn't want you to be mad at yourself." Tate crooned in my ear. He was rubbing small circles on my back and whispering that everything was going to be okay.

I didn't even know what I doing. I slipped a hand into his hair and kissed him, soft at first then harder. Before I knew it we were making out in his living room.

Tate broke the kiss with a sad smile. He leaned back and looked at me. Really looked at me.

"Chris. You're really sad, you know? You miss your old boyfriend a lot. I know you do, because you don't love me. It's kind of impossible not to love me," he stops and chuckles, " because I try so hard to please. I think you need to be happy, before you can love again. But that's just advice from a guy who knows nothing about the kind of love you experienced" he finishes.

He stands and fixes his hair. I watch him as he walks over to a half packed suitcase.

"If you'll excuse me I still need to finish packing." He says, not even looking at me.

"You're still leaving?" I ask, an edge of sadness creeping into my voice. I may not love him, but he's become a vital part of my life as a good friend.

He huffs and shakes his head replying that he's only unpacking, and wouldn't dare move away when I need him more than ever.

I walk towards his door then stop. "Tate? In another life, I'm sure I would have loved the hell out of you." I leave him with that piece of honesty and walk out of his apartment down to mine.
-----------time skip--------------
It had been a few nights since my talk with Tate and for some reason I felt like looking through old things tonight.

I was looking through one of the many photo albums Jess had when something struck my eye. It was a letter to Richard from Jesse that was never sent. It was still perfectly sealed, though it was showing signs of age having been in the closet four years.

I was curious as to what Jess wanted to say to Richard, so I opened the envelope. It was dated about a month after he got out of the hospital, and written in his beautiful loopy handwriting.

I read the letter and immediately dropped it to the floor, as if it burned me. What the fuck did I just read?
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A lot of people have been telling me they love my cliffhangers so here you go 😉

Also may or may not update tomorrow due to AP exam