Behind Closed Doors

11

Fernanda’s father opens the door when I arrive at her flat. He looks me up and down, scowls, and walks away, itching his bare stomach. I gulped and walked in, seeing my friend sitting on the couch. She grins up at me. “Are you ready to go?” I asked her, and she jumped to her feet. 

“Bring her back in one shape.” I hear her dad snide, and I have to force myself not to roll my eyes. Then, I watch as Antony leaves his room, glancing at me before he yawns and drops himself onto the sofa, his feet dangling over the edge. 

“The fuck you off to?” He directs his question to Fernanda as she slips on a coat over her body. 

“We’re going on a date.” She teases, and Antony scowls at her, itching his eyebrow with his pinkie finger. His eyes drift to me once more and my mouth parts slightly when he looks me up and down, a slight tint on his face. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, exactly what I was feeling. I wasn’t… attracted to Fernanda’s brother, because that would be absurd, but the weird feeling in the pit of my stomach rose up once more. 

Then, Tom’s words from a few nights ago scurried through my mind and I cleared my throat and looked away from him, my jaw locked. “Hurry up, Fernanda.” I say, a little too aggressively, and she raises her eyebrows at me before hurrying out of the door. I follow behind her, not sparing a glance towards her family as I close the door and stuff my hands into my pockets. 

“Have you got a stick up your arse, or something? Why are you so mardy?” She asked me, and I sigh, closing my eyes for a few seconds before we take the lift to the ground floor. 

“I just… you haven’t told anyone, right?” I asked her. “About me being gay?” I whispered, and Fernanda glanced back at me, her eyebrows furrowed. 

“No, of course not.” She rolled her eyes. “Why would I tell someone? It’s not my secret, is it?” She crossed her arms over her chest as the lift travelled down and the doors came to a grinding open. I shrugged my shoulders, running my fingers through my hair. 

“I don’t know.” I murmur, shaking my head. “It’s just… it feels weird, Some people knowing that I’m gay. I told Thomas, and… it went as well as expected.” I sighed loudly, and both me and Fernanda stepped out of the lift. Then, we begin our walk to college. Because Tom had an evening class, I let him sleep in so me and Fernanda could walk up. 

“If he gives you shit, I can get my brothers on him.” Fernanda suggests, but I chuckle, shaking my head. 

“No, he was fine. He gave me advice.” 

“Advice that made you doubt me?” She asked quietly, glancing at me. I’m silent for a while, contemplating what to say and running the few possibilities of the outcomes through my head. “You can admit it, Theo, it’s not that big of a deal.” She adds, but I can tell by the tone in her voice that it is a big deal for her. She’s upset that I don’t fully trust her. That I didn’t trust her enough with my truth before questioning her. 

But, apparently, my silence was an answer enough for her because she walks a little faster down the street, keeping her arms huddled around her and her head bowed. I can tell that it’s more than this situation that’s bugging her, but I didn’t want to pry. So, I just walked behind her and hoped that she would talk to me for the rest of the day. 

“Nanda.” I sighed, rubbing my eyes with my fingers, but she didn't stop walking. She doesn’t turn around to face me. “Nanda, stop walking.” I grumble, but she still doesn’t stop. I grab a hold of her wrist and she finally turns around to look up at me. Her thick eyebrows are furrowed and her eyes are glossed over. Her lips are tilted downwards slightly at the edges, and her cheeks and the tip of her nose are pink from the choppy wind. 

“You don’t trust me.” She says quietly, and I swallow my nerves. “And that’s okay.” She shrugged her shoulders, and I slowly let go of her wrist. Fernanda takes a step away from me.

“You’re upset about more than me not trusting you, Nanda, and we both fucking know it.” I tell her, dipping my head, but she scowls and turns back around, walking away. “Fernanda!” I yell, but she doesn’t face me again. Groaning, I rub my palms all over my face and storm after her.