This Isn't Me

Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Jerome said that I should stay on the couch, where he could watch me, yet also clean the house. We talked a bit, but eventually the talking died off. I really did start to feel sick, with a dry throat no matter how much water I drank and a pounding forehead. My entire head and neck area felt like it was burning up really. Besides that, I felt fine. My mind thought back to Adam when we went mining yesterday. The way the lava made his tan skin seem to glow, the tint on his sunglasses that added to his look of perfection, that loving, caring smile and the worried look on his face when I jumped from the safety of our path to the fiery lava below.

Or how about when he took time out of his day to help me practice with a sword? He’s so thoughtful, always wearing a smile that, while not showing of his teeth, brings his whole look together. And his eyes…

“Hey, Jerome.” I started, finding myself staring off into space with a frown.

“Yeah?” He asked, coming into the room and sitting next to me.

“What color are Adam’s eyes? Blue? Brown?” I questioned. Jerome shrugged.

“No idea, none of us have seen his eyes.”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense… why?” I continued. Jerome shrugged.

“I guess he likes his sunglasses.” Jerome concluded; standing and continuing to clean in the kitchen.

“… Hey Jerome.” I began again, walking into the kitchen. He looked at me, still smiling.

“Yeah?”

“Could… could I talk to you about… about something personal?” I murmured, messing with my fingers as I felt a light blush come to my cheeks. I glanced up at him, and he nodded, a serious, calm expression on his face.

“What is it Ty?” Jerome asked as I sat down at the kitchen table, Jerome sitting down as well.

“Well… There’s this person… and I really like this person, but… I… I don’t know if they like me back, and I don’t know how to tell this person how I feel…” I quietly explained, trying not to talk so quietly as the blush continued to become a deep, rich color. I could hear Jerome tapping his finger's lightly against the surface of the table, thinking. The wooden table felt smooth, yet somewhat rough at the same time as I let my fingers run over it, anxious for an answer.

“Well… When I told Mitch how I feel, I simply pushed him against a wall and made out with him, he seemed to get the picture.” Jerome admitted. When I looked back up to him, he was smiling at me, seeming happy I was in love.

“But… but what if Mitch hadn’t liked you and pushed you away?” I asked.

“Well if that happened, I’d walk away and probably lock myself in my room for a day or so to let the whole thing blow over on its own, but it didn’t happen because I knew Mitch liked me, even if he hid it very well, so I didn’t have to do that.”