Coming Out

Part Nineteen

"Benji?" Jorge's voice rings though my head. My eyes snap to his beautiful face that's covered with confusion. "Wh-what is-" Jorge struggles to get the words out.

"Baby," I breath. I stand up from the floor and take a step towards him. He takes a step back and looks at me with disgust.

"How could you?" His body is shaking and his eyes fill with hate.

"Baby, please, let me explain," I know there's nothing to explain. I don't know how much he saw, but what he saw was what happened.

"Why are you calling him 'baby'?" Drew's voice reminds me we're not alone. I turn and almost everyone at the party is staring at us and the music is off.

"Because he's my fucking boyfriend," Jorge yells at Drew. Tears are streaming down his face, but he doesn't look sad, he looks angry.

"What?" Olivia stares at me. "Why didn't you tell me?" She looks at Jorge.

"Benji, are you gay?" Jorge snaps his head towards Laney as she speaks. His eyes narrow and his face gets red.

"Baby, please," I grab his hand in mine. "Let's just go somewhere and talk." I don't care that people know. Honestly it's a relief, I just need Jorge. I need to make it up to him and make sure he's okay.

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" Jorge yanks his hand away and runs outside. I've mostly sobered up, but I still find it difficult to keep up with him. I'm thankful when nobody follows us outside.

"Baby, I love you so much. I'm so sorry," I look into his eyes. "Please, let's just go home an-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Jorge screams at me. "There is no fucking home with you! You ruined it, Benji," Jorge pulls at his hair, straightening the soft curls.

"I'm sorry," I don't know what else to say. I let tears run down my face.

"You don't get to be fucking sad," Jorge takes a step forward and pushes at my chest making me stumble backwards. "You're the one that fucked up!"

I fall to the ground when he pushes me again. Jorge breathes heavy and looks around for something to throw or hit, I'm guessing.

"Baby," I want to smack myself for sounding so pathetic. I let out a quiet sob and stand up, wiping my hands that are covered in dirt from the ground on my pants.

"Stop crying, Benji," Jorge rolls his eyes. I reach for him, but he smacks my hands away. "I was fucking worried about you! You said you would be gone for an hour and then three go by without so much as a text. I thought that maybe something bad happened, so I came here to check on you! To take care of you if you needed me!"

"I'm sorry."

"But, no. You were just too busy with someone else," Jorge's voice cracks and all the hate leaves his face. Instead, it's taken over by sadness. He buries his face in his hands. I watch his shoulders shake as he cries. I did that to him. I made him so sad that he can't even breathe in between sobs.

"I didn't want to kiss her," I try to explain the story to him. "It was a dare, I had to do it or people would think-"

"Or what? People would think that you were gay?" Jorge laughs. "God forbid you don't care about what other people think for a second and instead focus on yourself. Or maybe even your boyfriend."

"Just come home with me, please," I beg. "I'll make it up to you I swear."

I give him a few seconds to say something, but he just stares at me with a blank expression. I know him, and I know that in his perfect little head right now he's thinking about wether or not to go with me.

"I'll do anything, baby," I reach for his arm. I give him a small smile when he lets me take it. I caress his hand.

"Benji," Jorge's voice breaks for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. "I'm not going with you. I'm done with this. We can't do this anymore."

"What do you mean? We can work though it, baby, I promise," I know we're done when he pulls his hand out of mine.

"You kissed her, there's no going back from that," Jorge pulls out his phone and scrolls though his contacts, probably looking for someone to pick him up.

"But I love you," I scan my brain thinking of ways to make this better. Jorge doesn't say anything, but he gives me a look that lets me know he loves me too.

"Mom, can you come get me?" Jorge cries into the phone. If I hadn't drank, I could've driven him home and bought myself more time with him. Of course, if I hadn't drank I don't think we'd be in this situation in the first place.

When Jorge's mom pulls onto the street ten minutes later, Jorge looks at me. "Get home safe," he gives me a small smile, but it doesn't reach his swollen eyes.

He crosses the street and climbs into the car. When he closes the car door, my heart shatters.