Blue Howard (boyxboy)

I'll be good, I'll be better

A shorter chapter, but otherwise it'll take me a long time to update again.

I'm sorry but I'm in my final class and there is lots to do. 

But happy reading, and I promise I'll do my best :)

Chapter 26 – I’ll be good, I’ll be better

“I loved you.”

I unclench my fist. I relax my fingers.

Those aren’t the words I thought I’d hear. Those aren’t the words I expected from Evan.

We were best friends.

We were childhood friends.

Those words are ringing in my ears and I don’t know how to react.

“I was jealous,” he continues, ignoring my blank expression. “See, I thought you were mine and I was yours – best friends, right? And then this girl, totally random girl comes into your life all of a sudden, and I am pushed away. All you did was talk about her. You didn’t ask me how my day was; you didn’t ask me if there was someone I liked...I was envious. She had you.”

Evan looks down, bites his lower lip, sighs, and then continues.

“The only solution I thought of, how to distract her, was playing the secret admirer, so she would ignore you. I guess at the time I did want to hurt her too, but I thought she’d never find out who I really was. I was supposed to keep her away until another guy showed up, who she liked better than you, and you would come back to me. And I’m sorry for the way I thought and for the things I did.

I am sorry I could play some kind of God and manipulate the situation. I should have let go. Don’t they something like ‘if you love someone, set them free’? Maybe I didn’t love you enough...maybe I loved you too much that it became an obsession. I don’t know.” He closes his eyes as if trying to ignore tears.

“You say ‘loved’,” I mumble, and lift my head to look at him. He isn’t looking back. “Are you saying you don’t love me anymore? Or are you saying you never loved me in the first place?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” he shakes his head, and then runs his fingers through his hair making it messier than it already was. “I’m sorry, I don’t know.” He swallows. “It keeps changing. I want to hate you. I want to hate me. I want to distance myself. I never in a million years imagined that you would be here. I just thought I’d make a change, get further away from my old school. This wasn’t part of the plan.”

“What do you mean by ‘old school’?” I frown.

“I mean the college I was in before,” he says and rests his head on his hand, while his other hand is holding the cup. “I did some things I’m not proud of and they kicked me out.”

“Seems like fate stepped in,” I say matter-of-factly.

He looks at me crookedly without lifting his head and chuckles. “Are you telling me I have a fairy godmother?”

“You just might, Cinder-Evan,” I reply and he kicks me from under the table. We laugh and when we stop, I look down in shame. “All this time I didn’t give you a chance.”

“I wouldn’t have said anything at first anyway,” he explains. “I would never have risked you knowing I liked you as more than a friend.” As he says it, there is recognition in me. It shocks me; it knocks me out of my comfort zone. I guess I had thought about us like that while we were still friends, but I had shoved it away. I liked girls back then. At least I think I did. “I wanted you to figure it out yourself.”

“But I never did,” I whisper. “I just thought you were a horrible person and I despised you.”

“I was horrible, am horrible,” he says and I shake my head. “Howard, I am.” He lifts his head and puts his hand on mine. “But I’m trying to be better, be good.”

“So now you’re the bad boy?” I cock my eyebrow and smile crookedly. He pulls his hand away and throws his head back with laughter.

“I guess so,” he shrugs and runs his hand through his hair again. The gesture smoothes his hair. “I didn’t plan it; it kind of happened.”

“Do you love me, do you love me not, bad boy?” I ask foxily. He rolls his eyes.

“I love you, man,” he says. “After all, you’re still my best friend.” I wink at him and he bites his lower lip.

“You mean, your only friend?” I tease.

“Oh, shut up.” He looks away, smiling.

“You don’t have to go back,” I tell Evan as he puts his scarf on. “You can sleep on the couch...or in my room.”

He tightens the scarf around his neck and snorts. “Don’t give me any ideas. I can walk back to the dorms.” He looks at me with his eyebrow raised.

I lean against the corridor wall. “Sure, you can walk back. But are they going to let you in?”

He shrugs. “I could bang against the door until they did,” he smirks and puts his coat on. I feel like I can’t let him leave; like I’d change my mind when he did; that I’d go back to hating him and it wouldn’t be that I had a reason, but I would make up many reasons, artificially.

“You’d prefer that over sleeping here, even if it was just a couch?” I guess it’s my turn to push. I have to make him stay. I have to show him that I’m serious about forgiving him, and that I think I already have, even though I was angry with him a long time. “Jocelyn will make us breakfast in the morning. You won’t have that in the dorm.”

“So, you’re basically forcing me into staying?” he asks, grinning. I nod as I step closer. I take the scarf into my hands and unwrap it. “But I’m sleeping on the couch, then.”

I put the scarf loosely around my neck and nod again. “I’ll go get the sheets and blanket. Don’t you dare run away!” On the stairs I look back at him just in case. I can’t let him go.

Jocelyn is still up; the lamp in her room is on.

I push the door open and she lifts her head up from her book. “I’m almost finished,” she says. “You guys must have really bonded.”

I try to hide my blush. “Hey, where could I get some sheets, and a blanket? Evan’s staying over. My orders.”

Jocelyn is smirking. “They’re in the dresser.”  She points to the walk-in closet, where there is a dresser for everything concerning a bed. I take what I need, and then make a stop at my bedroom, where I take one pillow to give to Evan.

He has removed his coat when I enter the living room and is sitting on the armrest of the couch. As soon as he sees me, he shoots up and faces me. “Thanks.” I put the stuff on the couch. “It’s okay, I can do it myself,” he says. “You can go to sleep.”

I put my hand on his shoulder. “It was nice, you know. The whole thing,” I say shyly. Evan stares at me. “I missed you.”

He put his hand over mine and smiles. “Me too.”

It isn’t that I can’t sleep. I could. But my mind keeps replaying everything over and over in my head, grabbing onto every memory I have of him, good and bad. Suddenly I realise I’m making a list of advantages and disadvantages of us speaking again, but also understand that there are more perks to it.

It is dark outside and the wind is blowing. It is as if someone is lurking in the trees, as if someone is watching over me, and I wonder if I made the right choice, still, to have him spend the night, to even give him a chance.

I hope I haven’t failed anyone and not myself either.

I hope that in the morning, when there’s pancakes and cold milk and Jocelyn is humming along to the songs on her playlist, I walk down in the kitchen and Evan is there smiling. And I hope I am smiling too.