· N E R D ·

n i n e t e e n

He could hear Jonathan on the phone even though his door was shut. He was talking about him again.

"It's still hard to wrap my head around it. My mind is in full denial. There's no way Luke... but the pain in his tailbone and lower back? C'mon, Ryan, I know you know what I mean. Plus... Okay, but it's not even just that. He... I know what the doctor said. But I still want to help him, I just don't know how... He's become distant. More than usual. And it's like he looks right through me sometimes. Remember when I told you about that pan we found on the counter? He stays away from the kitchen. And where we found glasses? He stays away from there too. I just... I know he needs space. But how much is too much, Ryan?"

It made him feel guilty knowing how he affected Jonathan. He didn't know how to stop himself. He wanted to move on and forget, but he couldn't... Going to his classes was more difficult than ever before. Everywhere he looked, something from the house was there. He did his best to avoid it all, like sitting in a different seat and facing a different way, but most of it was in vain. He hid himself in his room whenever he wasn't in class because it was the only way to feel safe.

Truly safe.

Look at what you're doing to Jonathan, his thoughts told him. He wants to help you but you keep pushing him away. Why are you doing that? Just stop. Stop everything. You're overreacting. You're making the pain worse for yourself. He pulled his sleeve up and looked at the lines of crimson. Can you believe you've resorted to this? This isn't you, Evan. You're hopeless. You try to fill the emptiness inside of you with books and work and school but how is that working for you now? It's not.

"I'm so pathetic," he muttered aloud. "I've become afraid of everything and I can't stop. Why do I even bother? What a weak being..."

Jonathan footsteps indicated that he walked out of his bedroom and into the living room; Evan remained closed away in his own.

He wanted to pull his hair out in frustration. Why was he this way? It was pointless. What had he done to deserve this? He was a good person.

Wasn't he?

"I just want to die."

Something outside hit his bedroom window and it caused him to jump. He stood up and threw the curtains open to see that it was just a tree branch in the wind, as always. The light from outside hurt his eyes considering he had been sitting in the dark, but he didn't turn away.

His hands unlocked the window and he slid it open quietly. Wind and noise and sunshine instantly flooded in; it did nothing to change to his mind or actions.

Before he knew it, he was sitting on the windowsill with both legs hanging down and out. His left hand held the wall from the inside and the right held the wall from the outside. He looked down and saw the green grass of the dormitory far down below.

The sound of a knob turning made him whip his head back around just in time to see Jonathan come into his room.

They locked eyes as the realization hit them both.

Jonathan took a few steps forward and carefully extended out his hands, but stayed back enough to not trigger anything inside his boyfriend; Evan remained still, not daring to move even a centimeter.

"Evan?" the American asked, alert and ready.

"Please help me." His voice was shaky and scared.

"Okay. I'm going to touch you, okay?"

He nodded slowly and Jonathan quickly yet carefully took hold of his body, pulling him back inside.

They sat on the ground, Evan's body cradled in Jonathan's arms. The realization of what almost happened hit them again and Evan began to cry.

Jonathan did nothing but hold him.