But I Did (a short story)

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Run. Run. Run.

My heart is in my throat, throbbing and aching. Sweat trickles down my spine as trembles race their way past each droplet.

I'm going to die.

With each wave of dizziness, I'm even more convinced. Death is imminent.

I can't do this.

Oh God, I can't do this.

This isn't fair. Why can't I be like my brother Blake? Fearless and unstoppable. Instead, I'm me.

Terrified.

Weak.

Unable.

"You've got this, man," Blake says, cupping the back of my neck. "I know it's hard, but you've wanted to do this for so long."

Some of the apprehension dulls. Rather than digging deep and exposing every vein, it's more of a surface cut. Still noticeable, but I'll live.

"But what if..." I start and trail off, dropping my gaze to stare at my black Docs on my feet. "What if I screw up?"

Blake laughs, his amusement momentarily rankling me. "We're talking about you, Brody. Smartest guy in Chester Falls. Harvard bound Harry Potter freak. You never screw up."

I screw up lots. Mostly, it's in my head.

"You know, it makes you more of a freak to not like Harry Potter," I defend, unable to keep the grin off my face. The amusement fades as anxiety creeps back in. "Crap, I'm freaking out."

Blake steps in front of me, pinning me with his glittering blue eyes. He's taller than me by a few inches despite being younger.

"Look at me," he says, adopting Dad's stern tone.

I straighten my spine and lift my chin. "Yes, Dad."

He smirks. "You're doing this. We drove all this way. It's happening."

"How are you so brave all the time?" I croak out, losing my nerve more and more by the second.

"It gets easier with practice." He shrugs. "I still get nervous, though."

I scoff, shaking my head. "I have never seen you get nervous. Not ever."

"Maybe not with girls, but before every football game, yeah. I get all sweaty and shaky— like I'm going to puke."

"You do?"

"Hell yeah."

"But you kill it on the field."

"And you're going to kill it...at the movie theater."

I roll my eyes when he waggles his brows at me in a suggestive way.

"What if he doesn't like guys? What if he doesn't like me?" The panic crawls all over me, scattering across my skin like a thousand spiders. Asking Andy out is the first step showing the world who I am. Gay. Terrified, but proud.

"He could say no," Blake says, "but he could also say yes."

The walk to the concession stand is long and terrifying, but the cute boy behind the counter with the bright smile and cheeks that are quickly turning pink has me latching onto my nerve.

"Want to go out with me sometime?" I blurt out before I can't find the words.

Andy's cheeks turn dark crimson, but his nod is fierce. "Y-Yes. I thought you'd n-never ask."

I almost didn't.

But. I. Did. 

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