m e r c e r *
On Monday morning, I walk into mine and Knox's first-period class, expecting to see him smiley and happy, but instead, I'm met with him sitting in his seat, his head leaning against his arm and a glum look on his face. I walk faster to my seat next to his and gently touch his arm.
"Hey," I say softly. "What's wrong?"
He looks up at me and shrugs. "Nothing." But the way he's acting says differently.
"I know you're lying," I say.
It's supposed to be 90° and he's wearing black long sleeves, something he never does. I grab his arm and roll up his sleeve, just checking to make sure he hasn't hurt himself--and he hasn't. I look at him, studying his face. He looks tired, hurt, broken.
"Don't lie to me," I say quietly. "What's wrong?"
He shrugs again, but this time it's because he's trying not to cry. I grab his sleeve.
"Come on," I say. Our teacher isn't here yet and our classmates aren't really paying attention.
"Get your stuff," I tell him. "We're going to my house."
He doesn't object, but complies, and stands by my side as I do the same.
We get back to my house around 9:00 AM, and luckily everyone is out of the house; I didn't want to have to explain why I was skipping school with my best friend since Kindergarten. We go up the stairs to my bedroom and throw our bags down by the door. Knox collapses on my bed, laying on his back and running his fingers through his hair.
"So," I begin. "You wanna tell me what's going on?" I ask him.
He shrugs again.
"You know I'm not going to leave this alone, right?" I ask him.
He nods.
"So, it's best to just go ahead and say something before I have to take extra steps." I.E. talking to the school, his parents, or his siblings.
"Do you think I'm worth it?" he asks me quietly---so quietly that I almost didn't hear him.
"What?" I ask him. "What do you mean? Is someone saying something to you?"
He sits up and I see tears have formed in his eyes. He shrugs.
"Who?" I ask him.
He shakes his head.
"Knox," I say in a warning tone. "If you don't tell me, I will still find out."
"It's nobody," he says in a quiet voice. "Swear,"
"Knox, if it's bothering you this much, then it isn't 'nobody',"
"Do you think anyone will ever like me?" He asks softly, looking into my eyes.
"What?" I ask. "Where is this coming from, Kay?"
He shrugs. Alright, Imma need him to stop shrugging.
"I...I don't feel like I'm good enough for anyone..." he says softly, dropping his eyes from mine and refusing to look at me.
I scoot forward, but he jumps back and gets off the bed.
"Knox. Where are you going?" I ask him.
Is he scared? I'm so confused right now.
He opens my bedroom door and bolts down the stairs.
What the actual heck is happening right now?
"Knox?" I call down the stairs.
He's standing at the foot of the stairs.
I hold my arms out. "Please don't run,"
I start to move down the stairs. He doesn't move. I reach the step that's right in front of him. He doesn't move. I step down and stand in front of him. He looks at me as I grab his hand and lead him back up the stairs. Gently, I close the door and we sit back down on the bed.
Let's try this again.
"Do you wanna talk about anything?" I ask him, swaying away from the previous subject.
He doesn't say anything but continues to look at me.
"W-wi-will y-y-you k-k-k-kiss m-m-me?" he stammers quietly. My head snaps up and my eyes meet his.
"I-it's okay if you don't w-w-wa-wan-want to, I-I wa-was j-j-just--" he starts, but I cut him off by pushing my lips against his gently. My hands move to cup his face softly.
"I-is this okay?" I ask him, my head against his.
He nods, and pulls himself onto my lap, kissing me again.
He pulls back and looks at me.
"Come with me," he says softly. His voice is raw, shaky, and full of emotion.
He grabs my hand and pulls me into my bathroom. He lifts the edges of his shirt up and pulls it over his head. At first glance, nothing looks off. And then he moves just slightly. There's a giant black and blue bruise on the inside of his upper left arm, a scratch down his back that's about 3 inches long, is still red and looks fresh, another bruise halfway down his back, a scratch on his left arm, running the length from the inside of his arm down to the inside crook of his elbow, and a medium-sized bruise on his left rib.
My jaw drops. I fight the urge to start swearing. "What. Happened?" I ask.
"You know Kennedy Jordan in the eleventh grade?" he asks me.
I nod.
"Her brother was mad that I wouldn't go out with her and he jumped me."
"What?! Just because--"
"She doesn't even like me."
"Why would he do that if she doesn't even like you??"
"I'm not exactly sure."
"What did Kennedy have to say about this?"
"Kennedy doesn't know."
"Wait, but I'm still confused as to why he would do this to you?"
"As I said, I don't know."
"When did this happen? Where were you?"
"It happened Saturday after the baseball game," he says.
I step closer, holding my hands out. "Can I look?"
He nods and winces as I touch my fingers to the bruise. "I'm sorry, did that hurt?"
"Yeah," he says in a tightened voice.
"I'm sorry," I whisper. I bend over and put both of my arms around his waist, pressing my lips against each of the bruises and scratches. Knox stops me as I work my way up the scratch on his left arm and lifts my face to his, pressing our lips against each other.
That evening, Knox agreed to at least talk to my mom about it. My mom works with Kennedy's mom, and even though Knox doesn't want her to, she's going to talk to her. Knox texts his Mom and says he's going to spend the night with me tonight.
When we finally head to bed at 10:32 PM, and as I cuddle up to Knox, being careful to be gentle, I close my eyes and breathe him in. I never thought that I would be lying in bed with my best friend, after having kissed him, but I can't say that I regret it, because I don't. I hate that this happened to him, but I'm grateful that it brought us closer together. It finally gave me the chance to admit and fully allow my feelings, the ones I've been trying to suppress for so long, reveal themselves. The truth is, I've liked Knox for a long time, I just didn't want to admit it to myself, or to anyone else for that matter...
"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Knox asks me, snapping me out of my reverie.
"You. Us." I say softly, looking up at him.
He smiles at me. "You know, we've been best friends for a long time, I love you,"
"I love you too, Knox," I whisper.
He kisses me softly, and within minutes, we're both asleep.
3/17/20
Don't forget to wear green
