What I Love About You | boyxboy

Chapter 15

Ever since I was young, I'd been told crying was a girl thing. As a man I wasn't allowed to show weakness or display that sort of emotion. Even when things seemed to be crashing into a dark abyss I obeyed this social standard and never once cried.

Aren't I an idiot?

Maybe, had I let myself relieve stress in it's natural way, I wouldn't feel like I was being pulled apart from the inside. Or that I was slowly going insane.

I buried my face in my hands in order to cover it up, still feeling a bit embarrassed. Once I started it was near impossible to stop. The tears kept falling like a heavy stream down my cheeks. Taylor got up to take a seat beside me on the bench.

"Sen, what happened to your mom?"

It was the most sincere, and gentle, his voice had ever been. Usually he was harsh like he was forcing his idea masculinity. Now he seemed different.

I inhaled harshly, finally looking up at the world through my blurry vision and seeing every look of worry cast onto me. Ignoring them, I wiped dry my face. "My mom was shot." Not even I had fully caught up with the idea.

He jumped back from me. "W-what? Is she okay?"

"They said she's fine. It's a leg wound and they stopped the bleeding. She's at the hospital right now."

He relaxed a bit. "Sen... then she's going to live. You had me scared for a second there. I thought she died."

"She's... fine." Or so they kept telling me. Why can't I accept that? "I... don't know what to do. I missed the bus."

"We can drive you to the hospital."

I looked at him. Why are you being so nice to me when I was so cruel to you? I'd even thought he was the reason I was pulled out of class, but he hadn't betrayed me.

"Yeah." I got to my feet slowly. "C-could you help me?"

He didn't say anything, just smiled, leading the way towards the car. Once again we'd driven in silence, but this time I didn't care for it. I wanted my mind to be distracted. I couldn't allow myself to dwell on this. After all, maybe he really is telling the truth. My mom will be fine.

"Taylor." I started. He hummed, turning to me for a second. "Yeah?"

"I'm... sorry."

He frowned. "About what?"

"The... things I said to you at lunch. Or all the times I called you a whore, a slut, or a bitch." I kept my eyes trained on the guitar case between my legs. "I... well... I shouldn't have said any of that stuff."

He was quiet for a while as buildings passed us outside. We were heading into a more middle class neighborhood not to far from where I used to grow up. At least the nostalgia brought my spirits up.

Taylor sighed, lowering himself. "I think I understand you. Your entire life you've gone to rich kid schools, socialized with the wrong people, and got this idea that everyone with money somehow is the spawn of evil. I think that maybe you were putting all of that hate on other people. Our classmates who have nothing to do with that. After all, all we've ever done was try to be friends with you, but you keep turning us down with that cold nature of yours."

I sighed. Crying helped with the weight, but I still felt heavy. So heavy I was desperate to feel any sort of relief. I decided to confide in him. "I don't trust other people easily." I admitted.

"I noticed."

"My experience with rich people hasn't exactly been a great one. They're harsh and judgemental, driving people who don't fit their ideals into a corner."