New To Me (Phan)

Chapter 10

For the first time in my life I entertained the possibility that I could be gay. And it fucking terrified me. Never before had that even crossed my mind. But then again, never before had I been kissed by a guy.

Never before had I been kissed like that, period.

And it wasn't even hot and heavy or anything. It was barely more than a peck. A brief period of connection between mine and Phil's lips. I'd done far more than that with girls I'd dated in the past but never before had that been the response.

I was sat on my bed the morning after, doing nothing but replay the events of the night before in my head. I absentmindedly ran my fingers across my lips, remembering the warmth, the pressure, the feel.

What was I supposed to do now? Ignore it? Act like it never happened? Talk about it?

Reciprocate it?

No. Absolutely not. There was no way that last one was going to happen. I liked Phil. As a friend. That was it. I was almost certain of that. Almost.

But that kiss got me thinking. Was it more than that? Was this why I'd been acting so crazy and obsessive? Whenever Phil was in the room my attention was always on him. Whenever he wasn't in the room my thoughts always strayed to him. At what point did my world start revolving around Phil?

The thought terrified me and I violently pushed it back into the recesses of my mind. I'd never had a best friend before and perhaps this was just what it was like. That must be it.

I wasn't gay.

Before I could dwell on that any longer my phone started buzzing. I hadn't talked to Phil since he ran out the night before and was both excited and petrified to see that he was calling me.

I took a deep breath before answering. "Hey." I said, in what I hoped was a light and casual tone. Beneath the surface I was feeling most assuredly the opposite of light and casual. Butterflies danced around the pit of my stomach, fluttering their wings with such haste and intensity that it was unsettling.

"Hi." Phil said. It wasn't his usual upbeat greeting. It was quiet, tentative.

There was a pause. I didn't know if he was waiting for me to speak or if he was just trying to find the right words. I decided to say something.

"So-" I started to say, just as Phil said the same thing. "Sorry-" Again, both of us speaking at the same time. "You first."

Ordinarily I would have found that funny but I was too nervous to appreciate the humour.

"I'll go first." Phil said finally. He took a deep breath and said, "I'm so sorry, Dan. I don't know what came over me."

"It's fine. You don't have to apologise."

"Yes, I do." Phil insisted. "I know you're straight." It was phrased as a statement but sounded like a question. He paused, as if waiting for an answer.

I swallowed uncomfortably. "Yeah." I said quietly. Hesitantly, even. But I wasn't lying. I was straight. I'd always been straight.

"Right." Maybe I was imagining it, but I thought I detected a hint of sadness in his voice. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I was just upset and I wasn't thinking clearly." He paused before voicing what was obviously troubling him. "Please don't be mad at me."

At that I was honestly taken aback. "Be mad at you? Why would I be mad at you?" I asked incredulously. "I could never be mad at you." I didn't mean to say that last part. It just slipped out. I shut my eyes and cringed at the sappiness as I waited for his response.

"It's just... It didn't mean anything I swear." Phil said. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment at that but I shook my head to get rid of it quickly. "I don't want to make things awkward between us and I'm... I'm worried that I have. That I screwed everything up." He said in a small voice.

My heart melted a little bit at the sadness in his tone. I wanted to hug him. I mean not hug him. Pat him on the back. Platonically.

"Phil, it's fine." I said firmly.

"But -"

"It's fine. Don't beat yourself up over it."

"Okay."

"Good."

And I thought that was it. We'd addressed it. We could move past it. Forget it ever happened. I sighed and flung myself back on my bed, wincing slightly as my still bruised and battered body hit the mattress.

"So how are you coping with the break up?" I asked, as it had only just occurred to me exactly how much emotional turmoil Phil must have been going through at that moment.

Phil hesitated before answering. "We, uh, haven't broken up actually."

"What?" I almost shouted. "But you're going to, right?" Phil didn't say anything in response.

"Phil!" I literally jumped up off of my bed in outrage, ignoring the screaming of my aching muscles. "After what he did?"

"I know that he hurt you and that was awful of him but – "

"No, not because of what he did to me. I hit him first, that one's on me. But what he did to you." I said outraged.

"But... I'm fine. My arm's pretty much healed already." Phil said, but his voice lacked any conviction whatsoever. The actual injury wasn't the issue and he knew it.

"He hurt you. He shoved you into a cabinet. That's not okay." I said with shaky breaths.

Phil paused briefly. "It, it wasn't like that. He didn't mean to do it. He was just... drunk."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. My temper seemed to lay right beneath the surface these days, and it took all of my will power to keep it from overflowing. "That's not a valid excuse." No response. "What happens the next time he gets drunk? First it's just a shove but what next, Phil?"

Phil remained silent. Was I overreacting? Was I making it a bigger deal than it was? Was my distaste for Charlie clouding my ability to be objective here? I didn't think so. I tried to imagine the situation with different people. People who I didn't have any personal attachment to. And I honestly think my reaction would be the same. Perhaps a little less intense but my stance would be the same nonetheless.

I sighed. "Look, I don't want to force you to do anything. It's clearly not my place to interfere, but... I care about you. And I don't want to see you get hurt again. So please, I'm begging you to really think about this."

I waited with bated breath, fully expecting Phil to keep defending Charlie. "It was just nice having someone, you know?" Phil whispered in a small, defeated voice.

"You have me." I said in a feeble attempt at light-heartedness.

"That's not what I meant." He sounded, if possible, even sadder at my comment. So much for cheering him up.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall. "I know."