Swingset - A Short Story

Gabriel kicked at the mulch below his feet, staring into space. His mind, which he had tried to keep blank but failed, kept seeing her face when she told him. So open, trusting... hopeful. He hated himself for what he had to do. Since that day, he’d carefully avoided her, confusing and more than likely hurting the girl he’d called his best friend, but he could feel the reunion coming close, and there was nothing he could ever have dreaded more.

        “Gabe?” A soft voice intruded his thoughts, and he automatically looked up at the familiar tone. Elizabeth was standing next to him, her hand casually resting on the chain of the swing beside his own. He tried to fake a smile but felt it mangle on his face. Words refused to follow his orders and travel up his throat to escape through his lips, so he just waved weakly.

        She smiled, better at feigning this than he was. “So, where have you been? Long time, no see, huh?” A small laugh came out but even he could hear the strain in it. By trying not to hurt her, he’d caused her pain anyway. Was breaking her beautiful heart inevitable?

        He cleared his throat, trying again to speak. This time it worked. “You know. Just... around.”

        “Hm. Sounds fun.”

        “Oh, very,” he replied, wondering how she could keep joking like this. Wondering how he could.

        “I called you,” she said after a moment of silence. “Gabe... is this about what I said? Did I... I don’t know, did I do something? Freak you out? I’m sorry if I did. I really didn’t mean to. I just had to tell you. It sucked, keeping it a secret.”

        He knew what she meant. Hiding the way your heart felt never did anything but hurt.

        “I’m sorry,” he apologized softly, feeling the pain of having to tell her what he was going to. “Elizabeth... Liza...” His eyes moved to his hands. “I love you, but... it’s not in the same way. And if I didn’t know what I do, if I wasn’t the way I am, I’d try the hardest I could to make it the same, because you’re such a great person that it wouldn’t be hard at all anyway. But I can’t.” The words he’d constructed in his mind that had made so much sense now came out and had even his head spinning. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She was silent, absorbing it, thinking it over and processing it.

        “It’s okay,” she said finally. “I was kind of expecting that. But I don’t get the other part of what you said. What do you mean about you being some way?”

        Her curiosity was one of the things he’d always liked about her, but now he hated it. The phrase curiosity killed the cat played in his brain and he shoved it away. “I’m not... like you,” he tried, not wanting to say the exact words out loud. “Or, I am like you, I guess. Both.” Frustrated, his eyebrows drew together. “I mean, I don’t... like people... that I should. I like people that you should. Do you know what I mean?”

        “Um... no, not really.”

        He sighed. “Okay. What are the kinds of people you like?”

        “People like you,” she answered without thinking. “Good eyes, smart, funny, a great listener.”

        “Simpler,” he told her, trying to ignore the statement that was almost a compliment.

        “What? How? Like... a good person, I guess?”

        “Simpler. Not personality.”

        She let an aggravated breath out of her mouth. “Hot guys with... what do you mean?”

        “You had it. What did you say first?”

        “Hot guys?”

        “Yeah. That’s it.”

        “What? What does this have to do with hot guys?” In the silent few seconds that followed, he could feel her thinking about it. She giggled. “What, are you saying you like hot guys too?” Her tone was teasing, and his breath caught. In the next minute he would either have a friend or an enemy. For the first time since they’d started talking, he met her eyes. “Oh,” she said.

        He clenched his jaw, anxious. “Yeah.”

        “Oh.” She was quiet again for a moment that almost stretched out to forever. “Well, whatever. I don’t care.” She stood and looked at him. “As long as you promise we can get back to being friends?”

        He looked up, startled. Was it really that easy? As his eyes searched hers, he realized, no, it wasn’t. Yet. But this was the first step.

        “Of course.”