I'd Live For You, If Only I Could (Completed)

Twelve

"I saw you guys." Kirstie says once we are walking to her car after rehearsal ends. A thousand butterflies come to life in my stomach. Scott already left, said he had to get home right away for something or other.

"Care to clarify?" I ask, hoping she doesn't.

"Yes, actually, thank you for asking." I roll my eyes, grabbing the door handle and tugging on it impatiently. "You don't get to get in until we talk about this."

"Kirst, I have to sit down." Suddenly her eyes fill with worry and she hurriedly says, "Oh, right sorry. I...I forgot." She unlocks the car and waits for me to get in before following suit. "Anyway, I saw you guys. You and Scott."

"Care to clarify again?" She rolls her eyes.

"Come on, Mitch. You guys kissed in the back of the theater. You can't honestly believe that I wasn't going to see you while I was up there doing my monologue."

"Oh. Um, I guess."

"You guys are adorable and I ship you so hard. How long have you been together?"

"Not very long."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Neither of us wanted to come out to anyone yet."

"Perhaps kissing at school isn't the best way to do that?"

"You're probably right." I mumble, pulling at a stray thread on my jeans.

"Hey, what are you so nervous about?" she asks, turning to face me and grabbing my chin to make me look at her.

"Other than a bunch of unfriendly people finding out that I'm gay? Oh, absolutely nothing at all."

"No, right now. In this car. What's bothering you in here? This is a safe zone, and you're my best friend."

"I just...I don't like telling people because so many people hate the gays. I don't like being in a hated group. It makes me nervous, so I just keep it to myself."

"You told Scott."

"I didn't mean to." She knits her eyebrows together, clearly confused. "He told me he liked me, and I sort of freaked out and told him he couldn't, and it resulted in me basically telling him I've been in love with him since we met, blah blah blah. It slipped out. I swear you were going to be the next person I told. Please don't be mad."

"I could never be mad at you, hun. I'm glad you two are together. You deserve each other." I scoff.

"Yeah right. He deserves someone better than me. He deserves someone who will be around for a long time, who can love him without worrying about the consequences it will have on him. I can't do that for him, and after I die he's going to hate me for it." As I say this, I realize that it is my biggest fear, the reason I tried so hard to keep him from loving me.

"Mitch, listen to me. Scott could never hate you. Never ever. You could wind up being a fucking serial killer and he would still be madly in love with you."

"How do you know he's 'madly in love' with me? He's never even said that to me." She bites her lip in an attempt to conceal a smile. "Wait. Did he say that to you?"

"Maybe."

"So you already knew he was gay?"

"Yeah, for a while now. He didn't want to tell you because he knew he would end up telling you that he was in love with you and he was scared of your reaction."

"My reaction wasn't good. I see why he was scared of it."

"But you got over that phase, and now you're together."

"And we can live happily ever after, right? Wrong. I'm so worried for him, because I know how he gets once he latches onto something, or someone, and then it disappears. If he falls for me, and I die, he won't be able to move on. I don't want to be in his way. He has his whole life ahead of him still, and if he has to live that life without ever being able to accept another person romantically...I just can't bear to think about that. But I know it will happen."

"He's a strong guy. If he builds walls, it just means that you were his only one. It doesn't mean that he's going the rest of his life without love, it just means that he still loves you. And isn't that supposed to be a good thing?" I open my mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a defeated sigh.

"Whatever, can you just take me home? Please?" Kirstie huffs, upset with my stubbornness, and turns the car on.

****

I come home to an empty house, left with nothing but my thoughts to accompany me. The more I think, the more I convince myself that I'm not good enough for Scott. Tears well in my eyes, threatening to spill over at just one more depreciating thought adding to the pile of them in my head. As soon as the hot tears spill down my cheeks and my begins to quake, I know somewhere in the back of my mind that this is an anxiety attack. I claw at whatever surface I am on as I stumble to my knees, screaming incoherent words and trying desperately to find some sort of stability. In my dazed frenzy, I drag myself off the floor and find my phone with the intent to call my mom, but instead dial Scott's number. Sobs are still throwing themselves from my mouth, making my lungs feel like empty sacs in my chest.

"Hello?" After hearing me, he says, "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry I'm not g-good enough. I can't do this anymore."

"Mitch, what are you talking about? Do you want me to come over?"

"No! I don't want to see you! I don't even know why I called, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry." I hang up, letting the phone slip out of my hands before collapsing to my knees again, wishing desperately for everything to end.

****