“Stop! After everything, why are you lying to me?” Her voice cracks, and I send up a silent prayer to whoever the hell is in charge of running my life, that after this, they’ll give me a break.
I throw our conversation back in her face, the one we had before we left for that first weekend trip to Hunter’s parents’ house. The weekend that changed my life. And I don’t regret asingle moment. “I’m not lying to you, Danielle. He’s weird, and we’re just friends. That’s whatyoutold me to do. You told me to be nice to him; to hang out with him and maybe it would help him make more friends.” Hunter isn’t weird, though, he’s perfect and lovely and beautiful. Weird isn’t the right word, and I don’t know why that’s the one my mind has fixated on.
“I didn’t mean you should sleep with him! For fuck’s sake, Adam, you’re straight. You’ve never evenlookedat another man. I wanted you to be his friend because he seemed like he needed one!”
The word ‘weird’ is still on the tip of my tongue. Maybe it’s the influence behind it, the thought of being seen as weird in any connotation is always bad. Today feels like the day I should be weird, to take the gauntlet orwhatthefuckeverand drink from the chalice and let Danielle think whatever she wants. Because my chest aches at the fact I’m denying Hunter, the feeling is so similar to that same day in my dining room with both of my dead parents.
“You know what? You’re right,” I say after a moment, and she cuts herself off, her mouth agape while she processes what I said. “I never even looked at another man until him. Ilovehim, Danielle. And I don’t know why I was hiding it from you, but that’s the truth. I’m in love with Hunter. He’s my boyfriend.” I say the last part on a hysterical laugh, tears leaking out of the corners of my eyes from the onslaught of emotions.
“And I fucked up by not telling you, and by trying to hide him. But I don’t want to hide him, Danielle. I want to love him out loud. I want to hold his hand. I want to kiss him in public. And I don’t care what anyone else thinks. He’s mine.” My chest is heaving and I’m sucking in breaths too fast, feeling like I’m choking on air, and she just stares at me.
“So, you can support me and him. Be by our sides, and we can find our way out of this fucked-up situation with our parents.Or not. Either way, I don’t care anymore. The only thing I care about is him.”
“You asshole.” She pushes me, hard. I stumble, hitting my back on the counter in my kitchen. “I cannot believe you would do this to me.” She whacks her hands against my chest, not enough to hurt but enough to drive her point home. “You should have told me sooner.”
“I know,” I admit on a sigh, feeling the crushing relief of letting go of this secret.
“I’m so mad at you.”
“I’m sorry, I really am. But don’t be mad at Hunter, he’s been asking me to tell you because he feels awful.”
“I don’t care about that; I could never hate him. You on the other hand, you’re in some deep shit with me. It will take a lot of sucking up.” She attempts a smile, but it’s wobbly. I open my arms, waiting for her to step into them. I take a page out of Hunter’s book and embrace her. Soothing her as she cries into my shoulder.
Her cries die down, and she steps back from me, wiping her eyes with the palms of her hands. “Maybe it wasn’t the best idea for me to come in here like I did.”
“That’s okay. We all make mistakes.”
“You more than others.”
“You’re not wrong,” I agree. When we share a small smile, I realize everything will be okay.
37
HUNTER
HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR YEAR
Ikeep my books tucked close to my chest, hunching my shoulders and making my way through the crowded hallways of my school. There are people stopped and talking at their lockers, others just standing in random groups along the walls of windows facing the parking lot. The streams of sunshine shine in and reflect off the linoleum floors.
I just have to make it to my homeroom class, and I’ll be okay. This has been a week from hell, but as the first bell of the day rings, hope rises inside of me that today, I’ll be okay. I won’t have to worry about the kids tormenting me. I can keep my head down and my focus on the floor, watching the scuff marks from other students’ shoes disappear under my feet.
Today is Friday. I only have to make it through today, and then I have two weeks off for Christmas break. It’s not nearly enough time, but I’ll take what I can freaking get at this point.
My parents have thrown around the idea of transferring, butgod.That’s the worst-case scenario. It’s not only embarrassing that I’m a Junior, seventeen years old and getting bullied. But then I would be subjecting myself to other people realizing whata loser I am. That doubles the original amount. And from there, who freaking knows.
It’s not rational, the train my thoughts take, but they’re the only thing that makes sense. It’s better if I stay here and stick it out, with the evil I know.
The door to my home room class opens, and Mrs. James is waiting there like an angel beckoning me home. She’s the only teacher who knows what I’m going through, the only one who actually cares if I make it through a whole day with no incidents.
Her blond hair is pulled back tight into a bun on the top of her head; it makes her look like a ballerina with the black stockings she has on to go with her pastel pink dress. Her smile widens, and I tip my lips up barely. It’s still hard to smile most days, but she and my parents are the only ones who get the closest thing to a true smile. When it comes to my parents, I’ve been relying on a fake smile a lot, just so they don’t feel the pressure of my inner turmoil pulling them down with me.
“Hunter,” Mrs. James greets me, stepping to the side of her door and letting me pass through. I sigh a deep breath of relief as I take my seat in the front row, letting the legs of the chair rock while my butt and back meet the hard plastic. My side twinges a little bit, the massive bruise I have still a dark purple, but it’ll heal up. I just have to keep babying it like I have been.
That bruise came fromMattwhen he cornered me in the bathroom on Tuesday after the math class we shared together. I still couldn’t figure out if his anger came from the fact that I did better than him on the test, or if it’s because, rumor has it, he caught his girlfriend cheating on him. With her best friend.
I wasn’t stupid enough to ask.
The class slowly files in, bringing loud conversations and muted cheers. It’s the last day of class for this semester, so it’s practically a blow-off day. There’s no reason for us all to be here.And I can’t speak for everyone else, but I refuse to let my perfect attendance be tarnished over an easy day.
