Being gay is a curse when the homophobia you grew up with was so bad that you're homophobic yourself. Especially when you're into unavailable guys like your roommate, whose girlfriend is everything you're not (though appearances can be deceiving). S...
A/N: Just a quick reminder that Nazy's thoughts are Nazy's thoughts, so if you disagree with her thought process, that's totally fine, but I'm not, like... taking responsibility for what she says/thinks or whatever lol. I'm saying this because I got some comments about her worrying about committing shirk and I personally have no opinion on that because I'm not Muslim. All I can do is repeat what other people have said to give some perspective, but I don't think it's my place to say whether she was right or not in thinking that. I'm only writing how I think someone in her position with her upbringing and her opinions might try to make sense of things.
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I still hadn't told Jackson.
This afternoon, I had said I would 'be there in thirty', but then Harriet couldn't find her phone anywhere and we spent several minutes looking for it until she realized she'd left it in her dorm, so while I was on my way to Jackson's dorm, he started sending me messages, asking me where I was and whether I was even still coming and I started typing out a message to assure him that I was indeed still coming, but then my screen froze and a calendar event appeared. I had to go to the fucking restaurant.
Sandy had asked me if I could help out with something and, of course, I'd said yes. I wanted to work as many hours as I could and I figured I would be done by the time the party started, so...
Shit.
I'd muttered shit about a thousand times under my breath as I called Jackson and waited for him to pick up, and I stumbled through my apology like a flustered drunk. He said it was fine, but I wasn't sure if it was, and now we were here—in the hospital with a guy we barely knew. And I still hadn't told him.
He felt responsible because it was his party, which was understandable, but I still wished he'd let someone else bring Emmett to the hospital. I'd been waiting for an opportunity to talk to Jackson all night. He hadn't really been ignoring me, per se, but he kind of had. I felt ignored, at least. The vast majority of the party, he'd been talking to other people, and the time he did spend talking to me was... shallow, at best.
I was honestly surprised he'd let me come with.
Jamie was the only other person who was here, naturally, but he hadn't said a word to Emmett since we'd all gotten into the car. He merely sat in the backseat with his arms crossed and a deep scowl on his face. Even now, while the doctor was taking X-rays of Emmett's arm, he sat in one of the plastic hospital chairs with furrowed brows.
Jackson was on the phone to make sure that the party would be shut down while he was gone, and more importantly, that an eye would be kept on the guy who was involved in the fight, so I came to sit beside Jamie and asked, "Are you alright?"
"No."
"What is the cause of your anger?"
"Emmett."
"Yes, I figured," I chuckled. "But why?"
He threw up his hands. "He promised me he wouldn't get into fights with homophobes anymore because I didn't want him to get hurt and here we are!"
