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“You have to give them time to even out.”
“And they’ll work for how long before they’re out of whack again?” He sits up so suddenly it’s jarring. His jaw ticks as he picks up the bottle beside him. “Or before I need to feel in control again and flush the fuckers down the toilet? The process starts over. Numb. Normal. Chaotic. It doesn’t feel like I exist with these fucking meds.”
The next thing I know, he winds his arm back and the bottle shatters somewhere below. It doesn’t sound like anyone gets hurt, but it brings me back to the other night at the trailer park, and I flinch. Shiloh pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around them.
“It feels like it tampers me down until I’m a socially acceptable version of myself, and I’ve already spent my whole damn life fighting what society wants me to be. Why is it that I always, always have to compromise who I am for everyone else? Why can’t I just be fucking Shiloh and have what I want? Just for once.”
I scoot closer until our arms brush, until my hip is pressed to his, and then I put an arm around his shoulder and squeeze him tight. “What do you want, Loh?”
His breath puffs out and he laughs: brokenly, bitterly. “For you to not hate me.”
“What the hell would I hate you for? Is this about me not being around? That has nothing to do with you, Loh, it’s all me. I’ve got a lot of shit going on.”
“Shit you aren’t sharing with me.” He peers up before dropping his head to my shoulder. “We’ve always gone to each other for everything. Ever since the... you know, the dare... you’ve pulled away. I’m sorry for all that shit I said and the ultimatum I gave you. I’m sorry that I’m such a dick and that you’re stuck with me. Either you’re angry or... or you found someone.”
My heartbeat picks up, and I pull Shiloh in tighter. “I’m not angry with you. Yeah, I was pissed at the time, but I was also worried. You scare me when you go manic, Loh. I’m afraid I’m going to lose my best friend. You do crazy shit like roller derby on a pothole-riddled road in the middle of the night, and god, one day you’re going to get seriously hurt.”
He blows a raspberry in my ear, and I shove him away with a laugh. “I’m serious. I can’t stay mad at you. I love you too damn much. But I don’t understand why you feel the need to put your life in danger for fun. It stresses me out and makes me want to lock you in a basement.”
He shrugs, picking at a scab on his knee. “You pay attention to me when I’m crazy.”
“You aren’t crazy. Don’t say shit like that.” I bump my foot on his ankle, and he straightens it out so I can hook my leg over his. “You forget that I like domestic shit, too, dumbass? I like pulling a movie up and squishing into one of our beds with snacks. I like listening to you bitch about Corvin and get excited about the kids you’re training. I fucking love when you come down to the kitchen when I’m stress baking and just sit there letting me vent it out.”
I put my hand on his thigh and squeeze until he looks at me. “You’re like my soulmate. We’ve been drawn together since that first night staring at the stars covered in mud.” I press on his chest, and he lays back, and I quickly settle beside him. “What do you see up there?”
Shiloh sighs, but lifts his hand and starts mapping out shapes in the stars. “Home. A place where my body doesn’t matter. Where my brain chemistry doesn’t matter. Where I’m just Shiloh. Not ‘that trans, bipolar kid’. Just me.”
Finding his hand trapped between us and wrapping it in mine, I turn on my side and press our joined hands to his heart. “Well, I like this ‘trans, bipolar kid’ so shut your mouth. Stop saying shitty things about someone I love.”
He looks down at our hands, and the alcohol must be getting to him because his eyes start misting. He brings his other hand up to cover ours on his chest and turns his face towards mine.
“I love you, too. I don’t mean to make everything so hard.”
I bump his forehead with mine and wipe at his stray tears with my free hand. “Stop it. You’re drunk and won’t even remember pouring your heart out in the morning.”
“I’m not the one who’s usually an emotional drunk.”
“I try not to get drunk since that party senior year where I shouted to the whole place that I hated eating out Trisha Bailey’s vagina.”
Shiloh laughs so hard he has to turn away. clenching our hands and pulling me with him when he sits up to double over. I can’t blame him. It was a hilarious night. Trisha was a girl I kinda-sorta liked, but her ‘like’ and my ‘like’ were entirely different. She wanted to give me head in the bathroom then demanded that if I wasn’t going to fuck her, I should at least go down on her. I mostly drank to get the taste out of my mouth, but that led to me getting plastered and making a complete ass of myself before spending half the night crying on Shiloh’s shoulder about how much I hated the whole experience.
After the laughter dies down, we both sit in the silence, listening to the crickets chirp and the faded conversations from down below. Loh lets my hand go so he can fiddle with his phone, not really turning it on but tapping it on his thigh and pressing the button to turn the screen on and off repeatedly.
Something is still on his mind, so I give him the space to work through it.
“You’ve found someone, haven’t you?”
The words are soft, drowning in sadness. “What do you mean?”
“Someone you like to touch and be with. Someone you have a connection with.” He looks over at me, and while the tears aren’t back, his eyes are rimmed red. “You found a guy and fell in love?”
I didn’t want this moment to have to be now; I wanted to have it when we could do something fun, when he was sober. But it looks like we might be having that talk now.
“I’m not in love, Loh, but um...” I trail off, scratching at the back of my neck where I’ve worried nervous scars from the shit over the last few days. “Remember how I told you I might be bi? Thus the whole dare shenanigans?”
He nods and turns his head away, resting his chin on his knees.
“Well, that’s kind of true. I don’t think I really care what genitals someone has. I’m open to romantic attraction with anyone.”
