This Is Inevitable | #ONC2022

Chapter 4 | This Is Surprising

Without thinking, I fling myself across the elevator floor, lying horizontally infront of Tate. Amidst the onset of a potential second attack, he looks at me, confused. "W-what are you doing?"

"The walls aren't moving, Tate. See? I'm fine. They're staying the same distance on either side of me. Nothing's happening."

He looks at the walls. "I know, it's just... I don't know..."

I frown. "Irrational?"

He nods, without hesitation. 

"Okay. Keep your eyes on me. I promise that we are safe. Your fear is irrational. I'm fine, you're fine, we will be fine. There's plenty of space. We are safe. Breathe in at one, exhale at five. Let's go again."

His breathing rate slowing down as we do a few rounds, he slowly lowers his legs so they're in a crossed position. Our eyes linger on each other for a moment longer, before I break contact and stare at the intercom above his head. Phew. Is it getting warm in here? 

"How did you know how to do that? It's not exactly a skill everyone has," he asks, giving my watch back to me. I sit up, mirroring his crossed leg position as I put it back on.

"My sister's the same as you. I used to be close with her and we'd often do stuff together, like those Room Escape games. She didn't know she had that phobia until we were in a game. Learned how to help her out, and thank god for that."

He laughs. "Yeah. Don't know what would have happened if I was trapped in here by myself. Glad you're here with me."

Phew, thank fuck it's dark in here. I'm about ninety percent sure he can't see me blushing. Wait, blushing? Christ, Kian, you're a friggin' adult. Cut the preschooler bullshit. 

 "What happened to you and your sister?" Tate asks. Thankfully, my blush fades at the thought of answering that question. How exactly do you tell someone that you've gone non-contact with your family? We aren't exactly the bestest of friends; I haven't even told Ayisha why. Actually, yep, that's a good enough measure of whether I should open up. 

I shake my head. "Not really comfortable sharing that."

He hesitates, but relents. "That's okay. Was just going to say that I'm the same. Don't really talk to my family either."

My eyebrows knit together. "Wait, really? For some reason I pictured you as a total family man. You know, those ones that always see them on Christmas Day, the ones that always post about them on social media. Those annoying types that have coordinating outfits for holidays."

He snorts, shaking his head. "Not a chance. My dad was great, but the other half of my family? Nope. Mother was an incredible pain when I came out as gay to her."

Wait. 

What?

Gay?! Dude, there's no way. I thought he was straight. Like, flagpole straight. Metal ruler straight. Gym junkie, frat bro, truck driver straight. No way he's into men. Christ, minus ten points to Hufflepuff for being a total fucking dumbass. If the gay police were to show up, I'd have my gaydar revoked and checked to see if it still works. 'Cause, clearly, it doesn't.

"What did she do?" I ask.

"Tried to send me to a camp for troubled youth, like on Desperate Housewives. Actually, I think that's where she got the idea from, she was always watching that show. Anyway, it didn't exactly work. I came home with a boyfriend and she threw me out. Ended up living with my Dad."

I'm still sitting there, gobsmacked. This can't be real. He's watched Desperate Housewives too? Good lord. Did I fall over in the elevator and smash my head? Is this all a coma dream, and I'm going to wake up in a hospital soon with a fat health insurance check and a worried Ayisha hovering over me?