Lost Hope

Chapter Ten

"Do you hate me?" is the first thing he asks.

His question causes my head to recoil due to the confusion that goes through it.

"Why would I hate you?" I say like it's absurd, because it is.

His throat bobbles as he gulps down the saliva in his mouth, seemingly trying to bring moisture to his dry throat that struggles to make much conversation.

It's strange for Brains to be so silent. Even in the most serious moments, he's cracking jokes and finding humour out of the situation.

Then I remember. Humour is his guard, his mask. Some of it may be real, but most of it is to hide how he really feels and who he truly is, out of fear that people won't like his true self.

"I don't know. I humiliated you, and then you walked off without saying anything to me." He tries to force a laugh, but it fails, and his smile drops almost instantly at the realisation. "Or I thought I had made you uncomfortable by what I'd said."

"You always say that stuff. Why would it bother me now?"

He shrugs his shoulders, a blush now covering his full cheeks. "True, but I was always under the assumption that you thought I was joking. You never take me seriously, nobody does."

Nobody does? I never realised he was so hurt by this matter. There was obviously the conversation we had prior to this party, but I never realised his pain ran so deep. He hates being treated as a joke, yet he continues to play up and be the class clown. Does he love it or hate it?

"How do you expect me to take you seriously when you're always joking?" I sigh.

"I'm not joking now. Not even when I'm admitting that I like you. I just struggle to be romantic in a serious way, I don't know how people do it...so I just do it in the way I know how. A playful way, I suppose."

Brains is too busy looking at the ground in an uncomfortable state due to being serious for such a long period of time, so I take the time to examine his face and take note of everything I've never noticed about his physical features. He has two moles on his left cheek, right next to his ear. Bushy eyebrows that get lost beneath the strands of his hair. Smile lines. Fair hairs growing on his chin.

He's taught himself to be this way for so long, to use humour and comedy to make friends and get through life, that now he has no clue how to act seriously. On this long, painful ride of growing up and making connections, he's lost himself. It wasn't his fault. It was theirs. All the people who laughed and made him feel like his true self wasn't worth it. And for what? A few seconds of laughter that they'll soon forget about when they get home. They wouldn't remember it, but Brains would. It would stick with him forever, be a permanent tattoo in his memories that refuses to wash away.

"I always knew you weren't joking," I tell him with a small smile, trying my best to reassure him. He looks up with a glimmer in his eyes. "I knew you liked me, I just didn't know to what extent."

"Why didn't you say anything? I've always waited for you to say something."

I shrug, but give my answer anyway. "Loads of reasons. I wasn't sure if you were just joking to make everyone else laugh. I didn't want to make things awkward. But most of all, I didn't want to open myself up to someone again. I don't want a relationship."

The corners of his lips pull up ever so slightly. "Who said I did?"

"What's all this for then?"

His smile turns into a playful grin. "I guess we'll have to wait and see."

"Your attempts at flirting are truly awful, Brains."

Finally letting out a genuine chuckle, he winks at me and steps forward. "Come on, I'm not that bad. Even you have to admit."