The Summer to Remember

Miami, Florida

Ian:

I was really getting sick of this whole love-hate relationship I was having with Anthony right now.

It was like, one stop, we were best friends, and we sort of forgot about our whole "situation," and the next stop, Anthony would end up mad, and I would end up crying, and, quite frankly, I just wanted to go home. I often thought about what life would be like right now if I didn't tell him my secret. We would probably both be happy. We would be having fun. Things wouldn't be so awkward.

However, just like always, after our fight back in Atlanta, we made up; I cried, Anthony apologized, we hugged, and things were back to "normal." But, I still couldn't get the kiss out of my mind. I couldn't convince myself that it actually happened. That it was real. That Anthony refused to talk about it.

*

We had been to Miami many times for business reasons, but never just for fun. And, I have to say, this was one of my favortie stops. We had a full day there, and we spent it on the beach, at really good restaurants, and finished it off at a place I was sort of negative about, the bar. But Anthony begged me, saying he hadn't had a "real drink" since Vegas and he really needed one. So, after much convincing, it was decided that, yes, we would go to this bar near our hotel, but since I would have to drive back, I woudn't drink. And Anthony promised he wouldn't have more than a few; he just needed to lighten up a little.

And for some, reason, I belived him. 

And two hours later, he had consumed more drinks than I could count, and despite my countless pleas for him to stop and telling the bartender not to let him have anymore, he just kept drinking.

And drinking.

And drinking.

And eventually, after he very seriously yelled at me for "moving the bathroom," I decided it was time to leave. So, I literally dragged him out of the building while he kicked and yelled, causing a huge scene, and I nearly carried him all the way across the parking lot and deposited his uncontrollable body in the passengar seat, buckling him in before he could protest any further.

The whole three-minute ride back, I sat and listened as he talked about things I couldn't really understand. And when we arrived at the hotel, I sat him down on his bed, and that's when things got weird. 

I knew Anthony. I knew him better than the back of my hand. And I knew that when he was drunk, he started off as a "weird drunk," and then a "sad drunk," and that's when everything changed.

"I wwwanna call 'er," he slurred the second he hit the bed, staring right at me. 

"No you don't. That's not a good idea. Go to-"

"Yoooou don't g-git it. I miss h-her. A lottt."

"I know you do. But it's not a good idea."

"I'm gonna d-do eet." I watched as he pulled out his phone from his pocket and turned it on.

I got up and took it from his hands.

"H-heey!"

"You're gonna thank me later. Now go to bed. Please."

And then, his mood swings came back, and he started laughing.

"What?" I asked, even though I assumed it would be something completely ridiculous.

"Yoou k-know, for a a whiile back there, I-I thought I, I thought I like, liked yo-ou. And then I re-realized, that I don't liiiike you a-at all. I was just-just missing hhher."

I looked over at him, my heart dropping. He thought he liked me? That's why he kissed me. 

But I guess it didn't even matter, because he doesn't like me. He likes her.    

"Hhow weird would t-that be, though? M-me li-li-liking you. I'm n-not gggay."

"Shut up and go to sleep," I muttered, now angry, confused, and shocked.

I went into the bathroom, slammed the door, and turned on the shower.

So he couldn't hear me cry.

A/N: So I'm gonna be gone again this weekend and I start school Wednesday, so Tuesday is really the last day I'll be able to update until it goes back to like once a week D: ugh I know. Fuck school man. See ya latah c: