I Think I Like It

I’m good at distracting myself. It’s sort of always been something that I was good at, because it was something that I needed to do a lot. When my Dad was sick, I’d go outside and sit for hours, noticing everything I could, and when there was nothing left to notice, I’d make things up. I never had any brothers or sisters to play with, but I made do with playing by myself.
At his funeral, I counted all of the birds that flew by. There were 48.
When I was getting bullied a few years back, I’d imagine that a giant robot would come down and smash all of their heads, or a gang of vampires would find them in a dark alley. Dark thoughts, yes, but they did the trick. I guess I’m just good at running away from things and forcing myself to feel things that I don’t. Maybe that’s why nobody knew I was gay for so long, because I wouldn’t let even me know it. The only reason they knew was because of Mr. Way, and I groaned in frustration because I’d spent the last hour not thinking about him, and now I was again.
I’m good at distracting myself, but maybe not so much when the thing I’m running from is so good at grabbing my attention. I couldn’t say that I was surprised that I couldn’t get him out of my head – there was a lot to think about. I could think about his hair, bright red against his cool, almost white skin, framing his face and making his eyes look even darker, or I could think about the way his nose turns up a little at the end, or maybe his full lips, and the short, square teeth that lie behind them, and how they shone when he gave his cute chirpy laugh. I could think about his sharp, angular jaw line, or the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he speaks, or the rough calloused hands, or the way his hipbones jut out invitingly from under his shirt. I groaned again. There was most definitely too much to think about, and even I, master of running away from my problems was unable to think of much else. That asshole.

Finding that pure distraction and imagination wasn’t working, I thought I should do something to take my mind off of him. I finished writing up the experiment I did in Science that day, and solved all of the equations for Math with very little trouble. Anxiety, it seemed, made my brain work a little better. Who knew?
When I’d finished all my work, I turned to my Xbox for distraction. Admittedly, sitting and killing zombies while listening to Smashing Pumpkins on full blast was definitely a good distraction, but I still felt my mind drifting to Mr. Way, and his bagged, tired eyes. He said he hadn’t slept, and I didn’t ask him for any more clarification because I just took it to mean that. Of course now I realized that there was something very wrong with him, and that I’d probably made it a hell of a lot worse. My eyes flicked to my phone longingly, but it just sat there, its stillness seeming almost intentional, and I tried desperately not to imagine Gerard lying just as still somewhere. Surely things weren’t that bad. He’d have told me before now. My mind continued to wander, and I curled up in a ball on my bed to try to avoid some of the painful thoughts that were manifesting in my mind. I was prone to worrying too much, and then over-thinking situations and making them a lot worse in my head. Most likely, he was fine; sad, but fine. I could deal with that – I’d just go talk to him tomorrow. I was tempted to call him, but I said I’d give him space, and I would. I couldn’t interrupt his chill-out time just because I was freaking out.

Normally, dinner would be the ultimate distraction. Just me and my Mom sitting on the couch, trays on our laps and watching TV, but, of course, that wasn’t the case today. I wasn’t even hungry, but I forced the food down so she wouldn’t suspect anything. As much as I loved my Mom, I wasn’t quite sure that I had the right words to tell her that my teacher, who was also my lover and kind of boyfriend was worrying me. That would just cause way more problems than it would fix (including, of course, the very problem that started the whole thing). So I just sat in silence, occasionally responding to her attempts at conversation. This wasn’t unusual, though, she was used to me being unsociable when there was food in front of me, and I was grateful for the silence.

As soon as I got upstairs, however, I called Joe.
“Hey, Frankie, what’s going down?” he asked. I smiled a little at his voice. It wasn’t the one I needed to hear, but it was comforting enough.
“I just got bored, man. Nothing to do.” I sighed.
“I feel that. Don’t worry, when Chris and I are done, you’ll never not have someone to do.” He said, laughing. I chuckled despite myself.
“I don’t know why you guys are so obsessed with that. I’m totally fine not getting laid.”
“We kind of owe it to you dude.” He said bluntly. I chewed my lip – I hadn’t considered that.
“How so?”
“Because. How long have you known you were gay?” he asked.
“Um, gosh. Three years? Four? I don’t really know.” I said honestly.
“See, and that whole times, all we did was talk about chicks and set you up on dates with girls you didn’t like and pressure you into feeling like you had to do stuff with them, and calling you names when you didn’t. If we’d known, we’d never have done any of that. Obviously, it’s too late to not do the shitty things we did, so we’re going to have to just make up for them, by finally setting you up with someone you are interested in.” he explained. I grinned.
“That’s surprisingly logical.” I laughed.
“Chris thought of it.” He admitted and I laughed again – of course he did.
“Okay, well, I’m just saying, it’s okay for you to give up if the search gets too hard. I’m perfectly capable of finding someone myself, okay?”
“Yeah, to be honest we’ll probably drop it if it doesn’t work out with this list thing. It’s kind of the only plan we’ve got.” He said sheepishly, and I breathed a sigh of relief. At least soon there wouldn’t be anyone trying to find the skeleton that was falling out of my closet.
“That’s cool, but I’m really grateful to you guys for doing this. It’s a really nice thought.” I said.
“You know you could have told us any time, right? I mean, we really don’t care about that stuff.” He said seriously. I smiled.
“Yeah, I guess it just wasn’t a big deal. Like, I just didn’t think it was important.” I shrugged.
“Because you’re you, and you never think you’re important. You’re happy to put yourself in situations you’re uncomfortable with because you don’t think you’re worth enough to be happy, and as soon as you are, you freak out so much that you’re right back to being unhappy. You’re important, okay bro?” he said. I felt tears welling up in my eyes because Joe never said shit like that and, fuck, I really did need to hear that right now.
“Thanks, man. I’m gonna try to get some sleep, but I’ll see you tomorrow.” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Yeah, bye bro.” he said, hanging up. I fell backwards on my bed, looking up at the ceiling like it was the most interesting thing I’d ever seen in my life. It was already 11pm, and my phone hadn’t moved once. The likelihood of him texting me at this point was pretty low, and that thought did nothing for my nerves. Feeling slightly lightheaded, I forced myself to get undressed and ready for bed. In a final bid to hold off sleep until he messaged me, I tidied up my bedroom, putting my comics back in their place, picking my dirty clothes and shoes off of the floor, and just straightening everything out. By the time I actually got to sleep, it was well past midnight, and I still hadn’t heard anything. I sighed and pulled my covers over my head and shoved my earphones in, turning my music down so it was no more than a dull hum. I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed that sleep would come quickly. Thankfully, it did.

I woke up the next morning to see a red light flashing from my Gee phone and nearly fell out of bed trying to grab it. The text both made me more worried, and feel a little bit better.

FROM: Gee.
(3:46am)
My enigmatic, exceptional darling. I don’t doubt for a second that you’ve stayed up (or at least, you’ve tried to stay up) all night worrying about me, waiting for me to text you. I’m sorry for keeping you waiting. Go to sleep, sweetheart. I promise that I’m okay now, and I’m sorry for worrying you.
Goodnight, my beautiful boy. I’m thinking of you, as I always do, and wish you could be here so I wouldn’t be so alone.
Sleep well. <3

Notes

Sorry it's short, and not much happens, but it's important for the next chapter, promise! :)

**S/H trigger warning for the next one, by the way. Not an actual 'scene' but mentions of it. It's not something I normally write about, but apparently I'm an asshole writer now, so it's happening. Please don't try reading if it'll make you uncomfortable - just message me and I'll give you a brief rundown of what happened <3**