I came through the door of my house and padded slowly and solemnly up the stairs. Still carrying the baggage of Elliot’s proposal. As I reached the top, I casually glanced over at your door. I saw you through the slightly opening. Lying on your bed, looking up at the ceiling in deep contemplation. I realized that it was the first time I’d seen you since the other night. In a sudden burst of anticipation, I found myself jolt towards your door and push it open. You got up on your elbows, starring me down. Your eyes were still trying to come out of whatever deep thought you were just submerged in and I saw the fog in them clear slowly.

“What happened the other night?” I asked.

“You were dreaming,” you said distantly.

I pursed my lips in frustration. “No, I mean why did you just… send me to bed,” my voice had a nervous shake to it.

“Do you really want to know?” your eyes had lost the fog and were now just pure wonder and fear. An interesting combination. In a way, you looked guilty as if you regretted your reasoning now.

I processed the request. “Yes,” I said as strongly as I possibly could. “I want to know.”

Now you pursed your lips trying to find words. Your speech was obviously unprepared. “I didn’t want you ever doing that for any other reason than you.” I didn’t quite understand the words and you could see the need to rephrase. ”I felt like the only reason you,” a visible hesitation in your brain and mouth, “kissed me… is cause you thought it was what I wanted. You thought it would make me feel better.”

This I understood to well. Knowing he had pinpointed my reasoning. With my hands a deep shade of red, I had no excuses in me. “But what if I am not ready for that. I don’t yet have that correct reasoning.”

You smiled. “Then don’t do it. I don’t want you feeling any pressure in this… thing.” You struggled for a word to describe our relationship. I could see you were trying your hardest to use a word that wouldn’t make me crawl back into my shell. This made me feel a little guilty that your speech had to be so censored for me. “How was your day?” The question was so random and so normal that it put me back.

“Elliot wants me to do a case against Reynard’s.”

“I know,” you said and your eyes went to the floor.

My stomach turned, “how?”

You sorted out words in your head. “I went and met with him yesterday and I wanted to help.”

“Help how?” I asked.

“Well, I’ll probably just do behind the scenes things since I’m a minor, but Sierra-“

“Sierra,” I looked to him. “she’s in on this, too?”

You looked like you shouldn’t have said anything. “Yeah,” your eyes looked back at me, blank. “she came to the meeting with me.”

I let out a stifled giggle that represented anything but happiness, “So what? Was this some kind of meeting against Gerard?” My voice getting more sarcastic and angry by the syllable.

“What?” you were confused. “No, not against. For.” You weren’t sure how to explain.

But then my gears clicked and all the mixed up observations in my head started to point towards the truth. “You took my journals.”

You paused at this. I could see your face growing more afraid as I started to notice how much you had turned against me.

“Well,” you began. “Technically, yes. But we needed them really bad, Gerard.”

“Why?” my voice getting malicious. “Those were my personal journals. For my eyes only.”

You stood up, as if it would get your point across clearer. “But there was so much information in them. Those firsthand accounts of all the shit they did to you.”

“God damn it!” I heard myself scream. My vocal cords cutting together and alerting me of how loud I was. “Is that all I am? A collection of accounts of someone else’s deeds? So much so that people have to pick apart my brain and my journals and my past as if I am just some lifeless data warehouse. Does anyone recognize here that I may have an actual emotion or an actual opinion or an actual pulse?”

“I’m sorry,” you said more out of habit than sincerity. “I shouldn’t have taken the journals, I know. But Sierra told me about the things she read. And do you think I’m gonna let all those Reynard’s assholes push around my brother and get away with it? How many more suicides are they gonna cause? How many more lives will they ruin? I don’t want any more Anthonys or Gerards or anyone else. No one deserves what you went through yet you are gonna be selfish and keep that all inside? When you could be saving lives? That’s not the Gerard I knew. The Gerard I knew would have stood up to those worthless bastards because he cared about this generation. He cared about others. Where is that Gerard?”

I sighed. “You know he’s gone, Mikey. You know that. He’s not coming back.”

“No, I don’t know that,” you stepped towards me. “I refuse to believe it. Because I see him still fighting to get out. And I know he’s strong enough but you don’t. If you just gave him a chance.”

“You’re wrong,” I said, not wanting to believe anything he said. It was easier for me to just accept that I’d never be happy again than work so hard to prove otherwise. I turned back towards my room and walked quickly towards it but you followed me, grabbing me by my shoulder in the hall and spinning me towards you.

“No, I’m not wrong. I know there is a lot wrong with this situation, but the things that I say are not wrong.”

“STOP!” I yelled. “Stop trying to accomplish something you will never settle! You’re wasting your time!”

“Do you love me?” you said with tears glistening behind your glasses.

I froze at the question. “Mikey-“

“Tell me you don’t love me.”

I stayed silent.

“If you love me, you’ll do this.” You bit off the tears. “If you love me, you’ll fight for this.”

Part of me had admitted defeat right there. Knowing there was no way I could say no now. But another part of me was still hanging on to the hope that I could avoid this mess. “When’s the meeting?” My voice calm but my vocal cords still strained by an untraceable emotion.

You looked at your watch and I watched you take a deep breath to calm yourself. “We’d have to leave now.”

I bit my lip in frustration. I racked my brain. “I’ll go. But that doesn’t mean I’m doing it.”

“I’ll get my keys.” You tried to hide your joy but it was written all over your face. I saw it in your step as you turned back for your room.

“I’ll drive,” I said with my keys already in hand.

You stopped and nodded before following me downstairs.

“Where are you boys going?” Mom’s voice echoed on the living room walls.

“Meeting,” I said looking back at her slightly.

I could see from the quick glance the red, puffiness of her face.

“What’s wrong, Mom?” I said as I stopped and turned my attention towards her. I felt you stop behind me.

Mom let out a stifled sniff that she tried to mask with a fake cough. “Go,” she said. “You’re gonna be late.”

I gave her a sympathetic look, but all her face said was ‘leave.’ I continued out the door and towards my car with your quick steps following me eagerly.