Teach Me To Be Gay (BoyxBoy)

Part Seventeen

Every night, every night I've been having these damned nightmares. And now it's Wednesday, we have school, and I just have this crazy bad feeling about today. Like, something will happen. I just know it. And it won't be something good.

Despite this nagging feeling, I still get up and dressed, have breakfast with Kade, and we both make our way to school. On the ride, I still relish in the feel of his warmth seeping through both of our T-Shirts. At the university, I still long to hold his hand. But I can't. I can't let us get caught together. If anyone sees us- I don't even want to know what could happen.

But that's the thing with all our friends. They just wouldn't accept us. If anyone around here found out we were gay, they'd banish us from their social groups and we'd be the town freaks. Nobody here is gay, and the people who are tend to live on the other side of town.

I mean, it's not as if the whole of London is full of nutjobs who just can't accept that fact that sometimes guys fall in love with other guys, but in our town, just on the outskirts of London, most of the people are nutjobs who can't accept gay people. Basically, we're surrounded by homophobes.

And I'm the type of guy who doesn't want to be walking down the streets day by day knowing that people are whispering about me because of my sexuality, or flat-out shouting remarks at me. It'd hurt like fucking Hell. So I have to hide it.

And so I walk into the university, a good few sidesteps away from Kade, as we both make our way to Sketching. For some reason, I know today isn't gonna be such a fun lesson.

Walking into the classroom, it feels like everyone's eyes are on me, as if they all know something I don't want them to know, but in reality, everyone's minding their own business, setting up for today's lesson. I'm just over thinking. And it fucking sucks.

Still though, for the whole lesson - and the rest of the day afterwards - I feel as if my every move is being watched, and mocked. As if there's someone out there who knows exactly what's going on and is perfectly ready to spill the beans. The thought makes me shiver as I walk out of the university, Kade by my side.

I notice the questioning glance he throws at me, but I shrug it off, saying; "Random shivers." Keeping my eyes downcast, I make sure I don't look up, because I know that if I do, I'll have to face Kade's disbelieving eyes. And I hate his eyes when they look at me like that. He knows me too bloody well for my own good.

I get onto the bike and wait for Kade to hand me my helmet and sit in front of me. When he doesn't, I force myself to look up at him, and immediately regret it. He's scrutinising me. So fucking hard that I squirm under his doubtful gaze.

He sits in front of me, facing me, resting his hands on his thighs, although I can tell they're itching to rest on mine. But with the number of people walking around, even us sitting so close is a risk. Not that he would care. But I do. And I suppose he must respect that, to be holding back.

"Tell me what's wrong. Explain the nightmares. Just please, tell me anything, tell me everything. I want to help." The sincerity in his eyes, that look he gives me, and the way he fidgets as he wills himself not to move his hands even an inch closer to me, because he can't touch me in public. All of it, every single thing, has me wanting to cave in, tell him everything, kiss him, tell the whole world to fuck off. It has my heart melting. But I can't do anything.

So I lie. "I'm fine."

Two words. Two simple words. Except, they seem to have the biggest effect on my heart, which seems to sink slightly in my chest, as if a weight has been placed on it. I can barely breathe as I feel his gaze upon me again.

"No. You're not. Talk to me. Please." He's about to resort to begging, I can tell, but he doesn't let himself. He just stares at me, everything about him saying he's calm, yet his eyes telling a whole different story. Gosh, he's too good at putting on an act.

"I- I'm f- I-" I almost lose it, right here. "Can we go?" My voice is so quiet, even I can't hear it. I sound broken and defeated, and my voice betrays me as it cracks on the very first word in the sentence. I'm not fine. I'm breaking apart, I'm falling. And I don't know what to do.

He swivels around on the seat, handing me a helmet as he places his own on and starts the bike. He reverses and then we begin making our way out of the carpark and onto the roads. As we leave, I swear to all that is good and mighty that in the trees nearby, I can see a piercing set of eyes staring. Directly. At. Us.