•͟U͟N͟D͟E͟R͟S͟T͟A͟N͟D͟ ͟c͟a͟r͟t͟i͟u͟z͟i͟•͟

XIII

Life is a confusing force. Ten minutes earlier, I was a single, and gay as fuck, but now, I had just gotten through with making out with my gay best friend in the school bathroom.

JORDAN:

I decided to allow Symere his time, as I could tell he needed it. I was also still formulating my expedition to retrieve Symere, which was time-consuming on its own. Symere still hadn't spoken to me, and I still wasn't sitting with him at lunch. Had I considered moving on? No, because that is what I would do if I didn't truly love Symere, which I most definitely did. Had Sheyaa followed up on his threat? Nope, not at all; pussy.

For whatever reason, I felt the incredible urge to take a piss in Psychology, and followed up on that urge by excusing myself to use the restroom. As I approached the restroom, I heard strange, muffled noises coming from inside. Not sure exactly what it was, I approached the bathroom with caution. I expected it to be someone whispering something to someone else, or someone watching some video on their phone that was being distorted by the echo or something like that. Nope. What I saw I was not prepared for.

I walked into the bathroom to see two people pinning each other against the wall with their eyes closed, making the fuck out, and REALLY getting into it. One of them had purple dreads, face tattoos, a Marilyn Manson tee, tight black jeans, and Vans shoes. It was easy to identify him as Symere. The other one had on this red jacket that made him look like a Michael Jackson impersonator, and also wore tight jeans, with black Air Forces. Judging by what I had been given, he was Montero, but I couldn't tell, because his back was turned. I watched for long enough to identify them, become heartbroken, and scatter out of that bathroom quicker than anybody ever could've. Unfortunately, one of my shoes squealed on the tile as I left, possibly giving away my position. But there was no way they so me, considering they either had their eyes closed, or their backs turned.

I ran to find another bathroom to use, starting to cry. What was the point of even trying? He didn't like me back, and it was so blatantly obvious. "He's never gonna like me again, so I should just get that through my thick-ass skull." I thought to myself as I quietly cried in the hallway, praying to God that nobody saw. After searching, I found a bathroom, and I nearly bolted to it, ready to find a stall so I could relieve my eyelids of their duties.

I dashed through the corridor, but instead of being greeted by an empty bathroom I was greeted by a singular person. An old 'friend', I guess one could say. Standing at the sink, staring at the source of crying noises, was Rakim Mayers. I was terrified of what he would say, or if I should even tell him what happened. He didn't need two stories, and have to choose which one was correct. But, instead of getting angry, or saying something harsh, Rakim looked concerned.

"Jordan?" he asked, "Jordan, is everything okay?" I walked over to the sink, putting my face down into the empty bowl, and starting to cry out loud. I was an ugly crier, but at this point, I really didn't care. Rakim walked over to me, and put his arm on my back, rubbing it in a circular motion. "I know we're not on the best terms right now, but talking about it always manages to help me." Rakim insisted. I looked up from the sink towards him, and nodded my head.

We sat down on the nasty-ass floor, across from one another, and it was there where I explained everything to Rakim. Literally, everything; my preferences, my feelings towards Symere, Friday night, my confusion about what to say, and the events I just witnessed. After hearing the story in great detail, Rakim looked up at me, and pulled me into a hug. "I'm so sorry about how I talked to you, and that you've had to go through all of that." he apologized. "Please, Rakim, don't apologize. It's all a misunderstanding." I told him, "Besides, Symere doesn't even like me anyways."

Rakim looked up to me and grinned, "Jordan, I don't think you've got any idea how much that boy loves you."

"You're shitting me, right?"

"Nope, those whole first weeks were always 'Jordan said this really cute thing' or 'God, I love Jordan so much'. It even continued after the incident, albeit things like 'Rakim, I still love him, but he doesn't feel the same, and it eats ass'. Jordan you've got no idea; he loves everything about you, not just your body or your personality or your voice or laugh. Everything."

I truly began to contemplate my actions, "Well if he loves me so much, why did I just catch him making out with some other person in the bathroom?" Rakim shook his head, "Jordan, he's using Montero as a coping device. After someone you love that much leaves out of nowhere, albeit with you, a misunderstood departure, you require love, or at least what feels like love, to continue your happiness. I'll be real with you, I don't really like Montero that much."

"Oh," I realized, "what is it about Montero that you don't like?"

"Something always seems up with him, like he's hiding something or some shit."

"Well, can't you just go tell Symere what I told you?"

Rakim shook his head again, "It goes back to that thing I said about being put into situations too quickly; it's, overall, not healthy for the relationship in the long-term. He's just going to have warm up to you again overtime if you want a stable and loving relationship with him." I put my face in my hands, pissed at the situation. Then again, I had nobody to blame but myself. "What ways do suggest I do that? It's not like he's letting me within a ten foot radius of him right now."

Rakim pressed his forehead, while thinking, "Here, I can try to help you with that. I'll attempt to reason with him privately, but I can't guarantee anything out of that. But in the meantime, I can try to give you advice on Symere. I mean, Sy is my literal fucking son and best friend at this point, so if there's anyone who knows a decent amount about him, its me, not Montero. Just keep that in mind, alright."

I stood up, nodding my head. Rakim never ceased to amaze me in his kindness. He, alongside his friends had almost been leading a hate campaign against me for actions I didn't mean to commit, but not only does he listen to those who he 'hates', he comforts them, and gives them advice to make themselves better. I could see where Symere got his kindness from, once again. He was incredibly lucky to have Rakim as close as he did. I mean, not trying to throw any shade at Caleb or Travis, but neither of them were like Rakim at all; Caleb just walked around care-free, with no cares for himself or anyone else, while Travis only cared about the "Three S's": Sex, Speed, and SoundCloud.

"You know what my Instagram is, I'm sure, so just message me on there so we can talk more. I wish we could talk more in-person, but I gotta get back to class, and if we were seen together, I feel like someone may be a small amount confused, and decide to express their confusion in a variety of colorful words." Rakim explained, also standing up. I laughed, "Thanks for understanding Rakim, you're so cool."

"Anytime, Jordan, and once again, I'm sorry I was like that with you earlier; I retract every negative statement I made in that statement." Rakim told me, giving me a quick hug, and walking out of the bathroom. I had stopped crying, but still sort of felt like shit. While I was excited at the prospect of Rakim deciding to be my friend, and help me win Symere over, I was still upset at what I had seen earlier, and how that might be a significant obstacle.

I hopped on Instagram as I walked back to class, and looked through my DMs and found Rakim. I walked back into Psychology, getting glares from my teacher, who was still on the same lecture as she was when I had left. I could understand why she was irritated, because I had been gone for almost twenty minutes, and that must've seemed suspicious. I got back on my phone once I sat down in my seat in the back of class, and requested to follow Rakim on Instagram. His profile picture was of him, Amala and Symere at what seemed to look like an Atlanta Hawks game. Symere's cute little smile in that photo gave me hope that I could possibly make him love me again, if I really tried hard enough.

May God forever bless Rakim Mayers, in his heavenly form.