Why I'm Not an Idiot

Pebble

I kind of thought that my brain would be fighting at that moment. That the Bad Side would be applauding me or that the Good Side would be screaming in agony. I expected them to be arguing, or at least talking/yelling/screaming at me. The one thing I didn't expect was silence.

And that's what I get.

Well, maybe it's not exactly silence. It's more like an absence of sound. Or, at least, there is sound, but just one sound. My ears are ringing like crazy. I guess all the blood my rapidly-beating heart just provided me rushed to my head. It's like a steady, continuous beep. I can't hear anything else. I don't know if Chris has said anything yet. My brain feels empty.

You'd think it would be peaceful. It's not.

To make things worse, the ringing stops after a few seconds. I can now hear my heart, beating so hard it feels like it will rip out of my body and fall onto the bed. I can hear Chris breathing deeply. I can tell he hasn't said anything yet. If he did, it's not like he would wait for an answer. His breathing is getting heavier, shakier, more full of emotion. He's going to kill me.

He's going to kill me.

I never thought of that. I've thought of all the possible outcomes of tonight I could think of, but I never thought of that. He could kill me. He wouldn't be sorry. I'm gay.

I promised I wouldn't be gay.

I promised I wouldn't.

I promised.

And what do I do? I go and break that promise! Little good for nothing Jake. Untrustworthy, irresponsible, out of his mind Jake. Jake the faggot. What is Chris thinking about me right now? He's still not speaking.

Did I kill him?

Did he have a heart attack?

Oh, God, I hope he's okay.

He's breathing, idiot. He's okay.

I don't know if the Good Side or the Bad Side is talking. The Bad Side is usually mad at me, but I suspect that now, the Good Side is instead. Maybe the Bad Side is proud. I did what it wanted. That wasn't part of the plan. I thought I was supposed to surpass it.

I had to tell him.

He speaks.

"What... What did you say?" Somehow, his voice sounds shaky and firm at the same time. It's intimating as hell.

He sits up in bed and turns his bedside lamp on. The room glows fluorescent yellow. I've always hated light bulbs that do that.

Chris is staring at me.

I open my mouth and close it again. I breathe in a long, slow breath.

"I had to tell you," I say weakly.

He shoots up from bed and looks down at me. I shrink into the covers, now sitting on the sheets, too. I pull the blanket closer to me. Suddenly, we're back to the beginning, when I was seven and he was thirteen and he was making me promise to never turn gay.

"What the fuck, Jake?"

I close my eyes, feeling the tears well up. "I don't know, Chris. I'm sorry."

"You're SORRY?" He says, gradually raising his voice. "If you're so SORRY, then why do you do it?!"

"Do what?" I whisper.

"WHY ARE YOU GAY?"

I'm sobbing. I'm really, truly sobbing. This is happening right now. This is even worse than I thought it would be. I understood that he would think it was a choice, but I never planned how to convince him that it isn't...