The Nerd's Secret |Ongoing|

☫ Chapter 38 ☫

☫ Chapter 38 ☫

How do you live when you know someone you love will die?

     I stayed in bed. I looked to the side. The night stand was empty. I hadn't replaced the alarm clock and I didn't have plans to. I raised up my wrist and stared at my watch. Time ticked.

     It's early. Or is it late? Watching the light spill through the blinds made my stomach sink. Morning meant I was still here. Morning meant yesterday happened. Hearing the birds chirping was an unpleasant reminder of just how long I've been awake. Not a tune I wanted to welcome my ears.

     I blinked at the ceiling. One of those long slow blinks. The type where you can almost sleep if you miss it. Or maybe if you miss it, you could never sleep. I didn't fall asleep. I collapsed. Knocked out cold from the emotional blow, super power episode, and food coma. But then I woke up in the middle of the night, and have been up since.

     For the longest time, I've just been sitting tight, as if waiting for the next inevitable horrible thing to occur in my life. There was this impending doom that weighed heavy on me. It made the happy moments terrifying because I knew how fleeting they were. And they made the horrible moments a breath of relief because I didn't have to wait anymore.

     Now I'm not waiting for any particular moment. I'm waiting for a feeling. A thought. Something that could undo this nothingness that I'm in.

     I turned to my side.

     How do you exist with them...until then?

     Can I exist as usual? I got up, even as every part of my body pulled me back toward my bed. I took out the gorilla glue and tape from my nightstand drawer, then grabbed my glasses from beside my pillow, with muscle memory guiding each motion.

     I could wear my contacts, I thought as I picked up my broken glasses, moving them just right up by the light so I could catch the crack in the lens.

     I decided against it, and instead, very gently, applied a thin layer of gorilla glue between the cracks in the lens. I let that dry for a moment. For good measure, I blew some air on it. I then wrapped tape around the frame bridge, securing it as best as possible. It wouldn't fix the problem entirely. It might not even be functional. Still, I wanted to feel like myself again. And it's always been a classic Jeremiah look to wear glasses with tape around the bridge of the lenses. When was the last time anyone at school broke my glasses? Not for a while actually. That's something.

     Either way, this time it was my fault. I shook my head, dismissing any memories that could sneak in with that thought. I put on my glasses. I stared at the wall.

     Just Jeremiah Vincent.

     Nothing super.

     I didn't head to the bathroom. I didn't want to look at myself right now. I didn't want to look at Jeff either. But I couldn't avoid either of us.

     How do you hold onto the rope that kept cutting at your hands while you stayed holding tight?

     I wanted to let go. Let the rope fall. Let my bloody hands be free. Maybe I already have. But instead of falling into a looping abyss, a hand caught me. A firm grasp. Hand just as callus as mine. Jeff's hand. And I flinched. For a moment our hands were apart.

     What does it mean? Can I live with that? Can I live without that?

     Walking to the kitchen, I tried to envision how a conversation with Jeff would go. Something like oh good morning, four years of utter nonsense vanished because you're dying, yay! Cheers! Do you want some salt with your toast? Wait, that has a lot of unintentional metaphorical layers. Toast...cheers...salt. Oh gosh. I scratched my head and made a helpless sound, something akin to a childish whine. How am I supposed to act around him? I still don't know how I feel about all this. Yesterday completely drained me. In every possible sense.