Finding the Pure Note

To Make an Impression

Fletcher and Chelsea had everything planned out. Well, Fletcher did anyway. I watched him go on about tonight's plans, my smile refusing to budge, just content to lay there and watch him pace excitedly around my room. Fletcher's enthusiasm was contagious, and more than a little adorable.

Chelsea called soon after, agreeing to meet at eight. Time locked, Fletcher's excitement became more palpable, this affirmation making our celebrations tangible. I laughed at how keen he was over some drinks when a dark thought crossed my mind. There was a little desperate glee, a breath held too long and released. He was far too pleased, to the point I swore he would have cried. That's my fault. 

It's not helping me much to focus on how I fucked up, just how I take things from here on out. If Fletch and Chels were willing to give me that second chance, it just meant that I had to work harder than ever to prove that they could trust me now. I wasn't going to lose them again, no way. Why do I need to keep telling myself that?

We passed the time perusing social media, talking shit, and when we were bored of that, we switched to a shooter game. Fletcher kept checking his phone whenever he died, but I didn't ask what was up. When he stands up after the fourth round's over, our latest failed attempt at outlasting the endless zombie waves, he mentions needing to get home and sort some things out. Before I can get a word in, he darts out the door and I hear the study door opening and closing, followed by the front door, Max's claws clattering on the floor, and then I hear his boot slam. Okay, what the hell's going on here?

I push myself from the floor, jogging outside to join Fletcher, and I find him bent over by the boot of his car, stroking Max behind her ears. He smiles as I approach, then picks Max up, dumping her in my arms.

"What's up?" I say, acting casual.

"I'll see you there tonight, kay." He strokes Max once more, ignoring my question, then climbs into the driver's seat, pulling the car in reverse, waving his fingers at me over the wheel, a curious grin dancing in his eyes. I watch him go, waving, snuggling my face into Max's fur. I felt really... Good. I know that's a terrible, dull-ass word. But it's how I feel. Good is a lot better than I've felt in a long time. A proper good, calm, like I don't need to chase a chemical bliss. It's power, having control again. I'm a liberated man, single and ready to mingle. Uh, maybe not mingle. I'm not into the whole dating scene. Kaylee attached herself onto me like a toddler claiming a shiny toy, but otherwise, I'm not confident at all in my prospects. Doesn't help when I'm chasing an almost impossible dream, anyway.

I... I mean I can't make a move on Fletcher. Not now, not until I know for sure. Maybe I'm just waiting for the right moment when I feel like I've made up for my sins, and I know he'll accept me, whenever that is. I know how I feel about him, and I know that one of these days I'm gonna feel so fucking happy I'll kiss him. And my heart will bear the weight of whatever comes next.

I hug Max tighter until she wriggles in my arms, and I let her go, whistling for her to follow me inside. See you real soon, Fletcher.

******

Leave me alone for any decent stretch of time and I let the insecurities pile up, the shame taint me. When Fletcher was here, I had a purpose, I felt such potent and wonderfully perplexing emotions that I struggled to contain them all. Now he was gone, the air had released as if from a balloon, and deflated as I was, I had only room for self-doubt.

That soon dissipated when he returned not half an hour later, and I was bursting out the front door, giddy like a four-year-old when their dad comes home. I didn't question why he was back so soon, or why I wasn't holding back. I skipped over to him without a care as he pulled up and grabbed his hand as soon as he had locked the car, dragging him back upstairs so we could play games and chat about tonight. If Fletcher found my sudden affection strange, he said nothing, and he kept on smiling. I guess he was just pleased to have me back, and what he saw was me not wanting to let go. You don't need to worry, Fletch. I won't.