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“You mean in, like, a chat room?”
“Yes. There weren’t the same dangers associated with it then. I got chatting to another boy who also thought he was gay. We told each other everything. It was easier, I suppose, when you didn’t have to look each other in the eye. One day he told me his parents were starting to monitor his internet access, so we exchanged addresses. I wrote to him a few times but never received a reply. Or so I thought.”
“What do you mean?”
“I discovered years later, from my father, that my mum opened them and threw them away before I could read them.”
“Why?”
“Because she didn’t want me to be gay.”
What kind of stupid reasoning is that? Clearly, her tactics didn’t work. “So what happened when you found out?”
“I laughed it off. Inside, even though I was an adult, it kind of hurt to know she’d taken my only friend, my only confidant, away from me. But she stood by her actions, so, like I always do, I brushed it off.”
It makes no sense to me. James doesn’t strike me as a man who yields to anyone. He never has. He doesn’t suffer fools and he’s most certainly not afraid to speak his mind, especially if he’s right.
“She’s my mum,” he adds, shrugging, as if that’s a reasonable explanation.
I don’t like her already. “Maybe, but that was wrong of her.”
As was the fact she left a suicidal teenage boy to vomit his attempt at ending his life into the toilet alone.
“This is cold,” I mutter around my first mouthful of crispy beef. I’ve been too busy talking to eat. Putting it on the coffee table in front of me, I pop the lid back on.
“I can put it in the microwave,” James offers, reaching for the plastic tub.
I raise my hand. “I’m not that hungry anymore. I’ll eat it tomorrow.”
“Fancy a shower before bed?”
“Together?”
Grinning, James stands and takes my hand. His answer glistens in his eyes as he winks and pulls me toward the bathroom.
I’ve been hard since I heard the word shower.
Chapter Ten
~James~
Two months later…
Peeling my eyes open, my head on Theodore’s chest, I find his arms wrapped around me and snuggle further into them.
“You awake?” he whispers, running his thumb up and down my colourful arm.
“Mmhmm.”
Over the last couple of months, Theodore has spent most nights at my apartment, or house, but last night I stayed at his place. It’s Sunday, and he’s taking me to meet his family this afternoon. The thought leaves me with a heavy stomach, but apparently he can’t put his mother off much longer. She wants to meet me. Me.
I’m sure her mind will soon change once she has.
“Coffee?” he asks, kissing the top of my head.
“In a minute. I’m comfortable.”
A small sigh escapes his mouth. “I need the toilet,” he says, prizing himself out from underneath me. “And if I don’t wake Tess now we’ll be late.”
“Right. Your mum’s.”
“She’ll love you.” It’s not until Theodore replies I realise I spoke my thoughts aloud.
“You don’t know that. I’m not a likeable man, Theodore.”
“She’ll love you because I love you.”
I still haven’t uttered those three tiny words to him yet. I feel it, I think, but I can’t quite bring myself to say it. If I do, it almost feels like I’m giving him false hope.
“Talk to her like you do to me rather than the way you treat everyone else, and you’ll be fine.” He finishes the sentence with a wink that does little to reassure me. “I was just as nervous when I met Max for the first time.”
I can appreciate that. When he met my brother, two months ago, it was more than an introduction. They were meeting as the only two people who know about my mental illness, and I know they discussed me when I headed out to pick up a takeaway.
“That was different. There’s no way anybody couldn’t like you.”
“That’s not the impression I got, not straightaway.”
“What are you talking about?” Max likes Theodore. He told me.
“Before he left, he pulled me to one side and told me that if I didn’t think I could handle your worst, I should walk away.”
Fucker! I’ll be having words with him. “And? Do you think you could?”
“Yes,” he answers without hesitation. I don’t know how much he truly believes that, and I hope he never has to test his theory. But…some days, lately, I feel like that day is coming. “Now get up.” He looks down at his watch. “My mum will already have the meat in the oven.”
“I just don’t want to mess it up,” I add. “They’re important to you.”
“And you’re important to me. I can’t offer you any more reassurance because I really need to piss…” After blowing me a kiss, he’s gone before I can reply.
Climbing out of Theodore’s bed, I groan from the ache in my muscles. He owns the most uncomfortable mattress I’ve ever slept on and I decide I’m going to replace it. He doesn’t accept things from me without protest but, this time, I have the perfect incentive. If he wants me to stay over again, he’ll let me buy him a new bed.
Shrugging into one of his t-shirts, I wander into the main living space. Tess is awake, but still curled up on the mattress on the floor next to the TV.
“Coffee?” I ask her.
Nodding her head, she stretches her arms above her head. “Sleep well?”
“No.”
She laughs, and I know further explanation isn’t needed. “You nervous?”
I force a flippant laugh. ”No.”
“Liar.”
“Excuse me?”
“Everyone gets nervous about meeting the parents. Unless you have a heart of steel, which for a while there I thought you did, but now I know better.”
“Oh, you do, eh?”
“I saw the tear in your eye when we watched The Fault in Our Stars.”
Reaching for the coffee in the cupboard, I shake my head. “There was no tear.”
“There was a tear.”
“What tear?”
Glancing up from the empty mugs, I see Theodore coming towards me. Snaking his arms around my waist, he moulds himself to my back, resting his head on my shoulder. Tess is right. My heart can’t be made of steel because it started racing the second I heard Theodore’s voice.
