Two Birds, One Stone

27. Tongue Tied

winter break is for frequent updates luv xx

7200 words wtf am i on

i'm going to warn you readers, there are some very religious ideas/actions in this chapter. that said, i'm also going to warn against lack of respect in the comments for anyone's religion/lack thereof. the part of the chapter i'm referring to isn't even really about the religion itself, it's about the meaning behind the actions taken, so focusing on the religious aspect will be a waste of everyone's time

cool that's all

oh also this is the third to last chapter. just thought i'd warn you all bc i'm a giver :)

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Time was stupid. And crazy unfair. When you wanted it to go faster -- when you were reeling from heartbreak and anxiety -- it took its sweet damn time. But when you wanted it to slow down -- when April was transforming too quickly into May, and graduation was approaching at a freight train's pace -- it decided to pick up speed.

I felt like I was racing with life, and life was working very hard to pass me.

For a while, school was weird after I came out. Nobody was outright nasty to me; I didn't live in a big city, but it wasn't a small town, either. I was a few hours from Pittsburgh, not in the middle of buck-ass nowhere in, like, Nebraska or some shit. People here don't care all that much.

Some were supportive, some weren't, everyone was interested. I got a lot of stares, a lot of glares, a lot of freshman girls deciding they wanted to be my best friend. Zack backed off; he seemed to know better than to poke fun at my sexuality. Now that everything was confirmed, people wouldn't take to it like they had when he was picking on Jamie. Plus, even if he would never admit it, he was scared of Bryan.

Who still beat him at Prom King, by the way.

I didn't have the time to focus on Zack. Or anyone at school, really. Not when my parents were still alienating me at home. Not when Jacob and I were starting to really move forward and get closer.

Not when the same recurring dream was keeping me up at nights. The same wishful imagining of what might've happened if Jamie hadn't backed away from me that night on the hilltop.

The dream always started off almost too realistic: when met on the football field, we did little more than exchange basic greetings before walking wordlessly up the hill. Then, in that time in the middle -- when the rain started coming down and the lightning started flashing and the thunder started ripping at our hearts -- it was almost like we were together again, if only in grief. He held me together when I broke down, running his fingers through my hair, keeping me steady since I couldn't. Then, when the storm had ceased and Jamie asked me if I was okay, I saw that he wasn't, either. His eyes were watery, but he didn't want to talk about it. He just needed to lean on me.

But in my dream, he kept leaning. And leaning, and leaning. His lips on mine sent a jolt down my back so real, I shot awake every time, parched and reeling, still feeling the ghost of his kiss.

But then I would have to roll out of bed to go eat and shower. I would have to ignore the tingle on my lips and go to school and act like everything was normal, because everything was normal. They were just dreams. They had a start and an end, and they never bled through to the next page.

Sometimes I woke up feeling so down, I almost texted him for real. Almost took him up on his offer to meet me there again. But then what? It wouldn't play out like it did in my head.

I would want to give him something -- a hug, a thought, a smile. But I wouldn't allow it, knowing he didn't want it. God, I would kill to get something from him -- anything from him. I would kill for him to turn back as he walked to his car and pull me close and tell me that he still loved me. But he wouldn't. He already had given me something, and I'd thrown it away, and there was no magic button I could press for a second chance.