finding you

fifty six

No way. I couldn't have brought that up. I would have remembered it.

The gross feeling inside of me confirms it. I remember. I did say something.

"I-I don't know. It could have been about anything. I'm not scared of you," I try brushing it off. I have to stop this now and fast.

"If there's anything you want to talk about, I'm here. Especially if those feelings involve me, okay?"

He needs to let this go. I'm not going to talk about anything with him. I've already scared him enough. "I promise you I'm fine."

"You can talk to me."

"I know."

"Look at me for a sec."

"What?"

"Turn around. Face me."

Slowly, I turn over so I'm facing him. His arm is still wrapped around me while he rubs his other hand up and down my back in a soothing gesture. I'm not completely facing him, though. My face is lower than his and I'm facing his chest rather than his face.

He lets a few moments of silence go by before speaking again. "There's been a few occasions where I've noticed you've been a little more than nervous with me."

"Rhys, I- "

"Just let me say this, okay?" He waits for me to answer and I just nod after a moment. I still avoid his gaze, though. "I know you haven't been open with me about everything. I've had so many questions, Theo, but I've been trusting you would talk to me with time. I notice some things with you... I'm starting to worry- "

"Stop. Stop, Rhys. Please, don't do this. Please. I don't want to go any further into this conversation. Please."

"Theo- "

"No, Rhys! You don't get to do this. I'm fine. I don't recall being afraid of you last night. If anything, you were afraid of me."

"You were completely wasted, Theo. You basically told me to fuck you because of that reason... like you couldn't if you were sober. I'm sorry if that concerns me a bit."

My eyes are at his chest. I'm not looking up at him. I'm starting to feel it again. The panic. What am I supposed to say to that?

I try to leave. I'm done with this. I'm over it already. I've embarrassed myself too far this time, and I don't think I can get out of it without sharing my entire life story.

He grabs my arm in attempt to keep me at his side but I pull it free. He actually looks hurt for a moment, but not because of me... it's almost as if he's feeling hurt for me. Sympathy.

"Theo, please. I'm sorry. I didn't mean... just please come here. Let me hold you."

I'm sitting up now, basically off the bed. I'm not touching him. I'm not even looking at him, but after a moment, I meet his eyes. "Why?"

"What do you mean, 'why'?"

"Why do you want to hold me? This isn't easy for me. I'm not easy, Rhys. We might as well just end this right now. I'll stop bothering you. I'm clearly not the summer fling you had in mind or whatev- "

"Fuck off right now, Theo. You're being ridiculous. That's not what I want, and you know it." His voice turns ice cold. It sends shivers down my spine.

"I don't, though! Rhys, I don't think... I can do this."

"Do what?"

"This!" I gesture between us as if something was physically there. I hesitate but take a deep breath and speak the words I think I need to. "I'm not Brooke."

"Theo, Jesus Christ- "

"No, just listen for a second. I mean I'm not like her. I'm not the type of person that can easily handle... stuff like this." I involuntarily sigh, realizing the words that are coming out of my mouth aren't making any sense. "I'm not the type of girl that can easily be with someone. I also don't move quickly... at all. I'm not... I've never been with anyone, Rhys. Ever."

"Theo, I know that. It really pisses me off when you bring up Brooke. I'm fucking grateful you're not like her. Why can't you see that?"

I breathe out in exhaustion and turn away. I don't know what to say. I'm extremely insecure and it's incredibly humiliating every time we address it?

"Theo... you're really great. I just wish you could see that."

"We went to school together, Rhys, For years, and you didn't even remember me."

"It's not like that. I-"

"It doesn't matter. It's just... to be honest, I'm glad you didn't remember me. Because if you did, I don't think you'd want to be friends."

I turn back to see his face. His face is almost unreadable, but I can definitely see fear in him.

"What do you mean?" He asks, cautiously, after a few beats. His face continues to look more concerned with each passing moment.

The longer I look at him, the more I just want to tell him everything- everything I've been through.

Lyle. The abuse. All of it. The cuts and the bruises. The bullying. The rumours. The hatred I had for myself. The hell I put my parents through. How truly messed up in the head I was. I was fucking sick.

I still am.