Tronnor - For Him

1

"Con?"

"Yeah Tro?"

"I-I want to tell you something..."

His eyes lit with curiosity and concern, my best friend closes his laptop and moves to sit next to me on the floor.

"Okay. What's on your mind?"

"I-"

Our eyes meet, blue ice melting into leafy green.

"I can't do this."

As I go to stand, my vision becomes blurry with tears.

Connor grabs my hand as I try to leave, standing up with me.

He turns my body so I'm facing him, gently but firmly placing two hands on my shoulders in an attempt to comfort me as I fall apart.

"You know you can tell me anything, right? You don't have to be scared. I won't judge you."

Without meeting his eyes, I run a hand through my hair and lean in to hug him as tight as I can, burying my head in his shoulder as my world changes forever.

I'm tired of running, looking behind me every few feet. I'm tired of fighting, resisting to accept what I know is the truth.

It's time to give up.

"I-I'm gay."

+++

He was the very first person I told. The first person I came out to.

I did it.

I told my best friend that I like boys.

I almost laugh at the number of nights I've spent awake, thinking about how I'll never be truly accepted as the tears fell. And fell, and fell.

The whole thing feels strange, as if I'm in a dream.

I look over at his sleeping form, curled up on the armchair.

Will this make things awkward between us? Two gay best friends...he might worry that I'll try to make it something more.

"Tro-Tro, what're you thinking about? You should be asleep, silly." A soft, slurred voice mumbles from the chair. He must have just woken up.

Staring up at the ceiling, I try as hard as I can to toss him a smile. A genuine smile.

Telling someone. That was the big first step, and I did it smoothly. So why am I not happy? Why do I feel numb?

Connor stumbles over to the couch and cuddles up against me, his head on my shoulder.

"It's all going to be okay. All your friends and family will still love you just as much."

His eyes are half-closed, and he's so sleepy he almost seems drunk. But he's still beautiful.

Lifting his head to meet my eyes, Connor gives me a tiny smirk and ruffles my already messy curls.

"Con?"

"Yeah Troye?"

"Thank you. For everything."

He's leaning in. What is he doing? My heart is pounding, his eyes are closing, his hand is on my cheek. Why am I not leaning away?

The kiss is quick, soft, sweet. A moment that was gone before I realized it was even happening.

"Oh my god, Troye, I'm so sorry, I'm not thinking straight-you just came out to me, you don't need this...oh my god what have I done?"

"D-did you just kiss me?" My lips are tingling, my gaze unfocused. In a daze, I realize Connor is standing up. Leaving me.

"No. N-no, I didn't. Nothing happened." He takes a breath, his hands clenching into fists as his voice cracks into a fragile whisper. "Nothing happened."

Just like that, he's gone, grabbing his bag and stumbling out the door.

Connor Franta, my best friend in the world, just kissed me. And I kissed him back.

Does he like me? Do I like him? Are we becoming more than friends?

No, no, no. I can't be thinking like this. Shaking the wild thoughts from my mind, I slowly take a few breaths. Connor regrets it. He wishes it never happened, he wants us to forget.

I don't want to forget, but if it will save our friendship, I'll do anything.

+++

It's 5 AM, and I'm more drunk than I've ever been. One thing led to another, and I was trying to forget.

But a broken heart can't be ignored, and now that the storm in my mind has cooled, I can remember.

The door is open and I'm walking outside, running, the world spinning in and out of focus.

Before I know it, the road is getting closer as my head makes contact and the last of my vision explodes into darkness.

+++

I wake up alone and cold, with a throbbing headache.

I'm in a hospital. My leg and back hurt as well.

I can't remember.

There's a boy sitting next to me, crying. His green eyes are clouded with pain, yet he smiles, as if seeing me awake gives him a new dose of hope.

Who is he?

"Troye, this is all my fault, I'm so sorry. I-"

He continues talking, his words making no sense.

"I'm sorry, who are you?"

The boy stops mid sentence, his eyes widening and his face hardening.

"Y-you don't remember? Tro-Tro....it's me! Connor! Your best friend! P-please remember...."

I watch him crumple before me. Connor? My best friend?

My head hurts.

A nurse comes in, and starts examining me, offering a fake smile full of fake pity. She ushers Connor out, whispering some things that make him go white as a sheet.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she squeezes my hand in an attempt to comfort me. It doesn't work.

"Troye, honey, I'm so glad you're finally awake. How much do you remember?"

I shake my head, confused.

"Well, you were drinking, and it was very early in the morning. You fell on the road, hitting your head, and passed out, and a car ran over you. You're lucky to be alive. The wheels ran over your leg, shattering it, and the bottom of the car severely scraped the rest of you.

"The driver saw you right after, and rushed to get you here. Troye, you've been in a coma for more than a month."

I stare at her in shock. That can't be right.

"Do you remember that boy that was in here?"

I shake my head, and her smile falters. "That's quite unfortunate. It seems you have memory loss, and likely a concussion. What...what do you remember?"

I squeeze my eyes closed, trying so hard.

"I remember my family. I remember my sister, Sage. I remember moving here to America with them, meeting my friend Tyler..."

"Is there a certain point where your memories stop?"

My head. It hurts so much.

"I..." I take a deep breath. "I can't remember the past year. At all."