happy endings are for fairy tales // kiani au

TWENTY-NINE: WILL

14 august 2017

silence lingers during lunch break. liam's gaze glides past me a few times, some i let slip by without a connection. the temperature had dropped the moment we all sat down together in unison, as if a tiny twitch in the atmosphere had occurred and only some of us knew what it was. a certain kind of tension stood still between us, rigid and overwhelming.

i glance over at zach. if anything, we should be the ones having silent battles with each other, not the rest. why did it seem like everyone was involved, now? there's no response from his hollow, blanked out stare. chewing my food harder than usual out of spite, i bite my tongue and taste blood.

a journey to and fro from the bathroom back to the seat confirms my suspicions within seconds. as i walk back to my unoccupied seat, i see them leaning over the table, huddling closer with mitchell's watchful gaze circling rounds around the canteen. they obviously don't want me knowing. they also obvious don't know i'd taken the long route back.

what the fuck did i do? a certain shock gets stuck up my throat. i take a step back, as a nightmare i had always dreaded unfolded before me. are they worried about me? furious? probably the latter. the mere look on their faces make me want to double over and throw up.

i turn and leave, my hands turning clammy. my heart is beating — in a bad way, in a "i need to get the fuck out of here" kind of way. a bomb is ticking in my ribcage, and all i can do is go to my next class, hoping to blow out the flame with soothing– pathetic– words. as a clench my fists and try to seem ok in front of the stream of students entering the canteen, the ticking continues.

zach, zach, zach. the detonator shortens.

"i think i might be gay".

—

i can barely make out the words when my phone screen brightness is set to 0. neither can i contain the shaking of my hands when i open the text messages to read exactly what i had sent. a glimmer of hope sparks faith in my pounding chest. maybe i can find something to pass the whole thing off as a joke, justify to zach that i was only kidding. something. anything.

i read the conversation once. and then i read it again. i scroll all the way back up and down, scrutinizing every single word to milk out an inkling of the confession being a joke. but the white words bear none. the urge to smash my phone on the floor makes my lips twitch. but i can't do that, so instead i press and hold on the stupid blue bubble, and i delete that stupid text.

"i think i might be gay"

wrong. i know i am gay. and it's ruining my life. a second time.

i need to hide somewhere. the bathroom in the library immediately pops up in my mind.

a glimmer of someone familiar catches the corner of my vision. jordan's silhouette is so etched in my mind, i can immediately recognise his figure walking towards me in the deserted hallway leading to the deserted bathroom.

"jordan!" i exclaim, a wave of relief washing over me. without my group of friends, i have nobody left. almost by automatic reflex, a smile tugs at the edge of my lips and i want to spill my heart out to him: how the world is slipping through my fingers, how the simple 6 words caused me to lose everything, everything but him.

"jesus, i need to talk to you, urgently," i explain in a hurry. with his head hung over, he does not answer, continuing to walk in my direction but not to me. a hoodie over his head, all i can see is a faceless, uncaring stranger. something catches my breath as if i have been punched in the gut. with all but a whimsical breath left, i can only exhale a single word: "please."

yet, just like that, it is as if i do not even exist. the now-stranger rushes past me, but not before he lifts his head to meet my eyes for a second. we make eye contact for a second, and i am not mistaken. it is jordan. it is the same person who kissed me that day, the first person i ever told about my sexuality, the person i thought i could trust with anything confidential.

i realise i am wrong.

meeting eyes with him for briefly a second, i can see the hatred and disgust. the chilling discovery makes me recoil. what once was his electrifying blue eyes, now seems like the threatening lure of a rip current made out of brewing contempt and malice.

i cannot stare at him any more. my feet carry me to the bathroom instead, becoming faster after every step. my mind is whirling in confusion, but pain overshadows it slowly as i approach the only refuge i have left.

once i step into the bathroom, i slam my body senselessly against it and lock it. my knees buckle, and i fall to the ground against the wall, a bitter sob chokes me, a sound almost primal.

jordan had been my last hope. and i had lost him too.