QOTD: favorite letter?
I'm tired. I want to sleep.
I miss Sammy. He's sleeping with Lucas. I wanted to run my hand through his hair while I tried lulling myself to sleep. But I couldn't.
I'm tired.
My sketchbook sat at the edge of my bed, mocking me. I hated drawing. I hated the way my hands grew stiff and my lines came out too heavy. I hated having to force my fingers to bend a certain way just to draw something that should've been easy for me.
But it wasn't anymore.
As I stared at the notepad more, I felt the anxiety from this morning. Where is he? He hasn't texted me. Did he leave me? He could just be sleeping, but what if he's not? What if he's ignoring me? He promised me he'd come.
I swallowed down the words when Rylan finally came to pick me up. I sketched, I told him. Because I did, I sketched while I waited for over two hours. Just like I did with Naomi.
I sketched and sketched and tore out page after page. I remember my frustration building as I tore out another page and shoved it into my bag. My hands shook and I couldn't force them to stop.
The cold always made my hands even worse than they already were. I could barely draw a straight line without my fingers cramping painfully. And still, I sketched line after line until he arrived.
It's okay, I told him. I knew you would come eventually.
I didn't, but I refused to leave. What if I leave and he comes? Then he'll think I left him. What if he gets mad I left? I'm supposed to wait for him. I had to swallow down all the anxiety I felt and smiled gratefully that he even remembered to pick me up.
With his hand clasped in mine, I prayed over and over that his alarm really didn't go off. Is he already getting tired of me? Is this a test? Is he silently laughing at me?
He came eventually, that's all that mattered to me. He can laugh, it's okay. I'd laugh. I'm sure someone laughed as they passed by me for the third time. I'm sure I looked laughable. He can laugh, as long as he comes in the end.
He can laugh all he wants then.
I wanted to sleep but anytime I closed my eyes all I could think about was the frustration I felt from not being able to sketch properly. I'm an artist, it should be easy. And then I remembered why it was so hard.
I could feel his foot stomping on my hands, over and over until my fingers broke.
I'm supposed to forget about Naomi but how can I when I have to live with it everyday? I'm scared. I'm scared that one day I won't be able to sculpt. Drawing is already hard enough, I don't know what I'll do if my hands grow stiff enough to not sculpt properly.
It was cold in my room. My window was open.
My fingers moved stiffly. I stared at them as they curled down before slowly unfurling. There was resistance.
My eyebrows pinched. What do I do if I can't sculpt one day? If I can't make art anymore? I've been teaching myself to use my left hand more. I only broke two fingers on that hand. But I needed both hands for sculpting.
During times like this, I missed my sister. Or my mom. Not so much my brother, but even he was alright. My dad would listen if I asked him to.
I wanted to talk to my sister about it. Or- No- I didn't want to talk about it but I wanted her to be able to know without me telling her. When I tell her my hands hurt, I wanted her to understand why.
I wanted her to understand the pain and frustration and sadness I mean when I say it.
I wanted to talk about it and forget it all at once. I couldn't forget about it, no matter how much I tried, so talking about it seemed like the next step.
But I talked about it a lot. Penelope had me go over every last detail. There wasn't anything left to say and yet, I wanted to talk about it.
I wanted to tell someone who loves me that it's not fair. Penelope didn't care. At least, not as much as someone close to me. Harrison would care, Mia and Audrey would care.
Kyler would care. He would probably care the most.
Rylan would care. Maybe even just as much as Kyler.
But they didn't know and I didn't want to tell them. How could I tell them something like that? I haven't even told Harrison and I tell him everything. They'll look at me differently whether they believe me or not.
I liked how they looked at me now. I didn't want it to change. I was scared of their soft gazes changing to disgust.
I didn't want to tell them but I wanted to cry and repeat over and over- it's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair. They wouldn't understand but I know they'd comfort me.
I wanted them to understand and comfort me. But I didn't want to tell them. So I longed for my sister instead, someone who would understand and tell me it's okay.
She's done it before. When I first got my splints off and still couldn't move my fingers. I cried silently as I stared at my hands. She dipped her own hand in the clay I couldn't use and told me she'd sculpt for me instead. Just until you can do it yourself, she promised.
She's an awful sculptor.
Still, I kept her indistinguishable blob of nothing.
I didn't think when I grabbed my notebook and tossed it to the floor. It wasn't done in anger nor was in thrown but it still landed with a loud thump. It landed perfectly and I was disappointed to know I'd have to use it again.
I looked away so I didn't have to think about it. My eyes closed.
It was the same images, playing over and over. I felt the original confusion wash over me from that night, the realization that he- they, the four of them were there for me, the pain, the empty feeling as I laid there and stared at the pitch black sky.
It was too bright out, too many lights. There were no visible stars.
I opened my eyes and laughed. Why did I just remember that? I laughed some more. Out of all things to remember, I remembered there were no fucking stars. My chest shook with laughter as my hands came up to cover my eyes. Pathetic.
My chest trembled and I quickly realized I wasn't laughing anymore. My fingers felt wet and my lips quivered.
I didn't want to cry so I forced myself to laugh instead. "Ha." My sad excuse for a laugh ended after one breath and then it was quiet.
My palms slowly dragged down my face and pulled any tears with them, erasing them like they weren't even there in the first place. To me, they weren't. Because I didn't want to cry.
I blew out a breath and stared at the stars stuck on my ceiling. They glowed softly.
Is this what Mom meant? I silently wondered. Is this the 'not normal' she was talking about? I think I finally understood. I didn't feel normal right now.
I felt sad, and angry, and frustrated and I missed Sammy and I missed my sister and I wished I never met Namoi and I wished I could tell them my hands hurt without having to explain.
Because they hurt. They hurt and it's not fair. I wished I could sculpt normally, I wished I could be normal like everyone else. I wished I knew what normal meant. I wished I knew if they'd like me forever.
I wished a lot of things that meant nothing the more I wished them. Because it didn't matter. I could wish and wish and wish but it would never change what happened.
This must be it- the 'not normal' she meant. I didn't like it. My chest felt empty and heavy all at once. I felt like crying and laughing but ultimately stayed silent.
My throat felt sore. I didn't know why.
I wanted Kyler.
Thinking about Rylan had my throat tightening.
I thought about it after it happened, while it happened, after he left, during my shift, and now at home. I thought about those words of jealously I told him. They spilled out of my mouth without a second thought- like it was something completely normal to say.
I didn't realize until after that it wasn't.
Have I always done that? I thought worriedly. Immediately disliking someone when they got close to Kyler? I didn't know and it made me feel scared. Because if it happened so easily, I must've done it before.
I sounded controlling- obsessive.
Have I always been like this?
Rylan knew I sounded obsessive. Enough to scold me for it. Has he noticed too? That I'm.. not normal. It wasn't normal jealously. While I stared at them, I was thinking of all the ways to make them stop seeing each other so much.
I didn't care that they were friends, even less for how long. I wanted to be the first, all of Kyler's first. But I couldn't. I felt like I could erase his firsts with me, so he'd think of nothing but me. With his friend gone, I'd easily replace him.
That's what I thought earlier. But thinking about it now, it was wrong. I felt so sure of myself earlier but now I don't even know how I thought that.
There were times when I felt fine. Everything felt completely fine. When they kissed me, I knew they liked me. When they whispered it against my lips, I believed them.
And then there were other times I didn't feel fine. When, no matter how much they told me, I couldn't believe their words of affection. There were times when their kisses felt forced, as if they were only giving them to me to be quiet. Will he stop asking if I like him if I do this? They probably thought.
I never think before I act when I don't feel fine. Like when I went to Rylan's workplace and waited. It wasn't until he called my name that I realized with dread what I did. That's not normal.
Or when I get irrationally jealous at people around them. That's not normal.
Or when I decided to 'do this over that' in hopes that it'll make them like me more. That's not normal.
When there's this indescribable need to have what they have, to copy what they do, to be like them. That's not normal.
But I don't know at the time- or even until much later that it's not normal. It feels normal to me. My brain tells me to do it so I do. It feels right but judging from some of their expressions, it's not.
I felt like two different people sometimes.
It scares me at times when I look back at it. I don't know why I did that. Why did I do that? It felt completely right at the time but only hours later, I realized it was wrong. I couldn't control it.
I wanted to redo the day, even if it meant waiting outside for hours again. I didn't want to be seen as obsessive, especially by Rylan. Because as I looked back at it, I remember the cautious frown he gave me when I told him Kyler spends too much time with Demarcus.
I must've seemed like a controlling boyfriend. And yet, he coaxed me into talking with Demarcus to see what he was like. If he hadn't, I would've never made the attempt. I would still hate him for no other reason than my jealously.
I desperately wanted to take back the day, all the misunderstandings, and uncontrollable possessiveness. But I couldn't so I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.
They opened only a few minutes later. The stars stared back at me.
Would it be like this all night? I wondered if I should just give up. But I'm so tired.
As tired as I was, the images behind my eyes scared me enough not to close them again. So I stared, and thought, and stared some more. I stared at the stars until I thought they had moved.
They didn't but I squinted to make sure. Maybe I'm really going crazy.
I no longer liked the stars stuck on my ceiling, the sketchbook sprawled on my floor, nor the empty dog bed meant for Sammy. I didn't like being in my room alone. I didn't like being alone, actually.
Unable to stand it, I slowly got up and crept over to me door. Everything was silent. Even Lucas was sleeping.
I was even quieter as I shuffled past Lucas' room and over to Kyler's. I didn't knock or pretend he might be awake, I simply slipped in and shut the door. It made a soft creak.
Kyler's lamp was still on. The book, still half open, beside him explained it. As I picked it up and set it on his nightstand, I noticed it wasn't Stephen King. So he does read from other authors.
His bed didn't creak as much as mine but it still wasn't silent. It dipped under my weight and I outwardly cringed when it groaned.
He didn't show any signs of waking up. At least, not until I peeled back the blanket and lifted his arm. It was selfish to wake him up for my own needs but I wanted to be as close to him as possible.
Kyler turned his head to the side and I was met with his soft features. His head had been stuffed into his pillow, I wasn't sure how he was breathing before, and the creases on his cheeks showed it.
His eyes were dark as they squinted at me, confused. He closed them for a few seconds, inhaled slowly, and opened them again. "What time is it?" He spoke softly, barely above a whisper.
"One."
Another exhale.
"Can't sleep?"
I shook my head but his eyes were closed again. "No."
"Nightmare?"
I hesitated, unsure of how to answer. It felt like a nightmare but I didn't sleep. So did it really count? "No." His eyes opened again and he kept them opened this time. Turning on his side, he faced me and blinked slowly. "Sorry." I apologized quietly.
He lifted his arm and I didn't wait for him to change his mind. I inched closed and fit myself under his arm, trying to make myself as small as possible.
His window was open, I noticed. Or more, I felt the breeze wash over me.
His room was cold but he was warm. So, so warm. He was crazy not to wear a shirt when it was this cold but I was grateful.
My forehead gently pressed to his chest as I stared at nothing. He was warm, warmer than he should've been. His heart beat slowly. Thump, thump, thump, it was completely steady. I wondered if mine was like that. I doubted it.
His arm was heavy around my waist. It was almost like a reminder that he was there, holding me. His arm was warm too.
"You're cold." He spoke, barely a murmur into my hair.
I held back a shiver and agreed softly, "Yeah."
I didn't realize how cold I was until he said it. I could feel it in my hands, I could always feel it in my hands, but yes- the rest of my body was cold too. I just didn't notice.
His room was colder than mine and yet he was this warm. I felt jealous and happy and confused all at once. Unable to understand those feelings, I chose to huddle closer and steal his warmth.
"My hands hurt." I told him, a soft mumble against his chest.
He wouldn't understand but I silently hoped. Maybe if he asked why, I'd tell him. If he asked why, I would probably lie. I might say because it's cold, it wouldn't be a complete lie.
My heart thumped in my chest unsteadily.
He didn't ask why. He didn't even say anything.
He slid his hand along my side, down my forearm, and cupped my hand. He thinks I'm cold, I realized. It wasn't what I wanted, I wasn't sure what I wanted, but it wasn't this.
His hand was warm as it cupped mine, as if shielding it from the cold. It wasn't what I wanted but my heart beat faster from his touch.
Maybe if he asked why I would've told him. He seemed tired enough where he might've forgot by morning. I couldn't imagine myself telling him during a time I didn't feel so vulnerable.
Why didn't he ask? My eyes burned. Why couldn't he just ask?
I wasn't brave enough to tell him on my own, unprompted. I would probably regret it anyways, so it might've been best he didn't ask.
When his fingers tangled with mine, it took a moment for mine to react. I had to force them to close. "Your fingers get like this whenever it's cold." My eyes lifted but there was nothing to stare at. With his body facing away from the lamp, his chest was dark. "At the gym, whenever you fill up your water bottle your hand shakes."
I didn't answer right away. "It's cold.. in the break room."
"Yeah." He agreed. "It happens when you write too. Not on your laptop, just on paper."
Did they? I hadn't noticed. I stared at his chest. "I didn't know."
"Do they hurt when you do those things? Or just now?"
I didn't know, I didn't realize it happened that often, I didn't realize he noticed. How long has he known? When did he start noticing? "They don't- They only hurt when it's cold." I settled on.
Why, I waited for it.
Ask why.
I waited but it didn't come. "They hurt." I repeated. "My fingers are hard to move sometimes." My voice came out more desperate than I intended, like I was begging for something. Somewhere mixed in the words, I was.
Just ask why, I silently begged. I'll tell you.
His thumb rubbed my wrist in slow circles. Please just ask why. My eyes grew wet, much like earlier, but I wasn't sure why. I didn't want to cry so why was his chest so blurry? I can't say it unless you ask.
I want someone else to tell me it's not fair. What happened to you wasn't fair, I wanted him to say. Because I'm starting to think it was. Is this what happens to you when you're not normal? I'm starting to think it was.
My eyes were wet but I refused to dampen my cheeks, no matter how much they brimmed with tears.
Please just tell me I'm normal.
I sniffled once, just once, but it was enough to make his thumb go still. I'm not gonna cry, I told myself. His head titled down and my ears twitched when his chin tickled them. I won't.
He pulled away from me and my eyes quickly darted up. He didn't look at me as he got up from bed. Where's he going? My heart started beating unsteadily again, quicker than normal.
My words stayed stuck in my throat as the door opened. Is he leaving? Did I annoy him?
Before I could spiral into a series of questions that would only hurt me, the door pushed back opened before clicking shut.
Kyler's head kept tilting back as Sammy licked at his chin. "Stop." He groaned, having to dump Sammy on the bed to get him to stop licking.
He didn't leave, I forced myself to calm down and steady my heart. He's still here. He just left to get Sammy.
When Sammy noticed me, he leapt over my leg and right into my chest. He threw his entire body into me and rolled onto his side. It made me lose my breath for a moment but an involuntary smile pulled at my lips.
I missed him. It was one less thing to be sad about.
Kyler got back into bed while I forced Sammy to stop licking my hand. He was too excited to go back to sleep but he eventually settled between us. I missed Kyler's warmth but Sammy was warm too. So for right now, it was okay.
"Do your hands still hurt?"
I wasn't sure what he meant to do when he got Sammy. Maybe nothing, maybe to cheer me up. There's was no way Sammy could help with my hands but maybe he wasn't really asking about that. "No." I told him. And then, "Yes." Finally, "A little."
I stroked Sammy's hair as Kyler stared at me. We were both laying on our sides while Sammy's head was thrown back. He demanded pets and I happily gave them to him.
Kyler's hair spilled over the pillows, two to be exact. And even then, he still had hair leftover.
"Are you still cold?" He asked. My head shook, because I wasn't. Sammy and warm and Kyler was warm so I was warm. "But your hands still hurt?"
My lips parted before ultimately closing. A slow nod instead.
"Why?"
Why. My hands paused in Sammy's fur.
Why, why, why, why, why.
I was waiting for this. I was desperately waiting for this moment. I didn't want to tell him, but I also wanted to, and eventually he asked. If there was a way for him to understand without telling him, I would do anything for it.
But there wasn't. So I was left to stare at him helplessly. I was waiting for him to say it, but one little word had me feeling so lost. I didn't know what to say.
"You got scared when I just left, right? Why?"
I stared at him and he stared right back.
"You don't like Demarcus, do you?"
Thumpthumpthumpthump, my heart beat the quickest it's felt before.
I couldn't stare at him any longer so my eyes trailed down to his hand. It was resting on Sammy's side, unmoving. "No." I spoke slowly and barely above a whisper. "I do.. but I didn't."
Maybe if I had answered him right away, everything wouldn't be unraveling.
"Why do you get so scared when Rylan and I aren't with you?"
My throat felt sore again. "..Because you could be with someone else."
"Like who?"
"Anyone, I don't know." I frowned. "Someone who's not me."
Sammy curled on his side when he stopped getting pets and exhaled slowly, ready to sleep. I didn't realize I stopped petting him. "Cheating, you mean? Or just in general?"
Cheating. The word was jarring to hear and I almost flinched. "Cheat? No- I wouldn't." I rushed out. "You- would you?"
"No." He answered quietly. "I'm asking if you think we would cheat on you. Or do you just not like people around me in general?"
I wanted to immediately say no. There were times I could confidently say no, they would never do that. This wasn't one of those times. This was a time where I felt cornered and vulnerable, unable to shy away from his heavy gaze. "I don't know."
"Okay." He sat up. "Why?"
"Why, what?"
"Why do you think that?"
"I don't.. I don't know." My voice grew quiet, almost too quiet to hear. "I don't want to think that. Just- I can't help it." My hands clasped together nervously. "I feel like you'll find someone better than me if we're not always together."
He looked like he wanted to say something but in the end, didn't. "Okay. Is there a reason you feel like that?"
I was given another opportunity to tell him, to explain everything. I was afraid it wouldn't make sense no matter how many times I explained it. But still, I tried. "I'm sorry." My fingers twisted together. "I don't think you're that type of person.. It's just-"
"You don't need to be sorry." He seemed to mean it but guilt still hung over me. "I just want to understand."
He would probably understand, I told myself. It's okay to tell him- just say it. It was harder than I expected. If I say it, it won't be something that happened to me at my old school. It would just be something that happened. My family won't be the only ones to know. Kyler will know.
My family had to love me no matter what but Kyler didn't. That's why it was so hard.
Will he look at me differently?
"Um," I felt nauseous, that same nausea I felt when I had to tell Penelope, "I used to like this girl.
Well no, I thought I did. No- I did like her. I think. I don't know." It was already a mess. "I liked her." I decided on but couldn't move past that.
It was quiet in Kyler's room. There was no breeze, Sammy wasn't snoring, and Kyler didn't talk. He watched me with level eyes as I avoided his at all costs.
I was staring at my fingers that were twisting together anxiously. His hand covered mine and they stopped.
It was warm. Not as warm as earlier when it was covered by the blanket, but warm. It made me want to cry. He's holding my hand now but will he later? If he takes his hand away as I tell him, I'm not sure what I'll do.
There was no way of knowing. So I kept on, "I used to go to a different university. It's farther away but they had a bigger art department and my sister went there, so I wanted to. I only went for two months and then I took some time off and went to the one I'm at now."
I didn't want to cry. So as I told him about the library, their laughter- their constant laughter- the laughter that still rings in my head, the 'favors', the broken promises, everything I did for her, I didn't cry.
I felt like it, but only in fear of how he would react.
It didn't feel any easier than telling Penelope when it was still fresh. It got harder to breathe when I told him about Naomi's ex, how she dropped me out of nowhere as if I meant nothing to her, and what followed after.
I paused when I told him what I did after. I felt pathetic for it and wanted to lie but I didn't. So I told him how I looked for her at her job, home, and at school. How I texted her nonstop and when I finally did see her, she was with her boyfriend. I didn't tell him how they laughed at me but I could hear it in the back of my head.
It felt harder to tell him about the joy I felt when she texted me to meet her. He must've realized how stupid it was. I wondered if Kyler was laughing at me in his head. I didn't look up to see what type of expression he was making.
My words were choppy and muddled when I remembered what happened at the park. I couldn't explain much when I hardly remembered myself.
I just remember him- them laughing, the stars, and how my body ached. It ached so much. "That's why my hands hurt." I exhaled shakily but I didn't allow myself to cry. I didn't want to. "They're better now but they still get stiff sometimes."
I didn't want to tell him I spent weeks in therapy but I did. Therapy was for anyone and everyone but it was mainly associated with traumatized and broken people. Not normal people.
I didn't want to be seen as that. I didn't feel broken but I couldn't say I didn't feel traumatized, no matter how strongly I wanted to deny it.
Harrison eventually was brought up, when I was telling him I got better, after I switched universities. But then I told him why I had to switch universities. It wasn't just a matter of some girl I liked blocking me anymore.
My breath was shaky when I told him what she said. It was hard to say so I didn't say it directly. Forced, sounded a lot prettier than raped so I said that instead. They meant the same, unfortunately.
I didn't want to cry but it was hard not to, especially when I was reminded of what my sister had to endure as well.
I couldn't see his hand squeeze mine, my vision was too blurry with tears I could no longer hold back, but I felt it.
And towards the end, I felt it again and again until my whole body was wrapped in that warm feeling. When I grew silent and my cries were reduced to silent tears, he didn't let go.
I held onto him with relief.
__
By three am, we hadn't talked much more. I was grateful, I didn't want to.
He tried to. He was going to say everything I wanted to hear. It's okay, it's not your fault, it's not fair, you're completely normal, I knew he would say everything I wanted but I didn't want to hear it.
I wanted him to hold me so he did.
He stayed awake with me for another hour but by two thirty, he was asleep. He fought it for a while but eventually I felt his hold loosen on me.
I didn't mind. The time he was awake was spent doting on me, petting me, stroking any part of me he could reach. It made me feel like he wouldn't leave. But I was still afraid so I stayed awake.
Kyler didn't have stars on his ceiling. He had a fan that spun slowly. It might as well have been off. He didn't have a sketchbook to draw in either. He had books instead. He read them more than I drew.
Kyler's room was boring, but since he was here, I wanted to be nowhere else.
His lamp was still on and I wondered if I should turn it off. There was no reason to keep it on. I wasn't afraid of the dark, only being alone. And I wasn't alone, I had Kyler and Sammy. They were both sleeping but they were here, so I wasn't scared.
After I'd counted how many books he had, it was 56, and there was nothing else to do, I picked up my phone. There were no notifications.
For ten minutes, I read the same two pages of my textbook over and over again. Maybe studying when I'm sleep deprived wasn't the smartest. I wasn't sure what else to do. There were still three more hours until Kyler's alarm went off to wake up.
Just as I gave up on studying and went to scroll through twitter, my eyes darted up to the notification banner that lit the top of my screen.
It was a text message from Rylan. I saw the mushroom emoji before I read his name.
Rylan: i just got off work and heard you can't sleep
I eyed Kyler. Did he text him earlier? Probably.
Rylan: so if you're awake you should come talk to me
Rylan: cause i'm in front of your house in the most uncreepy way possible
My head lifted in surprised. I didn't even think before I started detangling myself from Kyler. It wasn't hard. The hard part was getting over Sammy while trying not to step on all the limbs he was hiding under the blanket.
"Sorry." I hissed in a whisper when I stepped on his tail. He shot up and was immediately on alert. Thankfully, Kyler didn't budge. "Go back to sleep." I tried pushing his head down but he only licked my hand. "Sleep."
His tail started wagging and I knew it was a lost battle.
"Alright." I quietly stepped off the bed. "You can come but no barking."
Not even giving him the chance to propel himself off the bed like he normally did, I picked him up and squeezed us out the door. He was basically putty in my arms, making me fumble. "Use your body. I hate when you do this."
If possible, he went even more limp.
I felt around for the front door, not bothering to look for his leash, and quietly shut it behind me once I found it. Only then did I put him down and led him over to the elevator.
He was terribly excited, probably thinking we were going on a walk. He was about to be real disappointed.
Though, he usually liked seeing Rylan so maybe not too disappointed.
I saw him before he saw me. He was sitting on the curb right outside our apartment complex while tapping away on his phone. I wondered why he didn't chose one of the benches only a few feet away but quickly stopped caring. He's really here.
Sammy made himself known first.
He did his little excited dance and pattered all the way over to Rylan, barely able to contain his excitement. Thankfully, he didn't bark. He did jump on Rylan's back and basically knocked him over.
"Jesus fucking Christ-"
I laughed before I could stop myself. It bubbled up my throat and spilled out of my mouth.
When I slid Sammy off his back and righted Rylan, he turned to me, disheveled. "I thought I was about to die." He told me with wide eyed. "Or, like, get jumped." He reached out and swatted my leg. "Scared the shit outta me."
There was a smile on my face as I sat next to him on the curb. "Sorry."
"You sure look it."
"It was funny."
He fixed his hair, though there wasn't anything to fix, and set his gaze on Sammy. He attempted to give him a stern look but it broke within seconds, not able to pretend when Sammy nudged his head under his palm. "I didn't think you'd bring him."
"He was gonna wake Kyler up if I didn't." My gaze drifted to him. "Did he text you?"
A soft hum, "Mm, said you were.. sad." He reworded at the last second. It made me wonder what he really said. His head tilted towards me. "Are you?"
I could lie, but I didn't want to. "Kinda."
"Want to talk about it?"
There were real stars out tonight. I could actually see them. They twinkled and shined brightly like real stars should. "I don't know." I admitted truthfully. "I talked about it with Kyler already, so I feel like I have to tell you too."
"You don't have to tell me anything." He stroked the top of Sammy's head. "If you don't want to, don't. If it's too hard to say twice, it's okay." I wondered if Kyler told him. I doubted it but it sounded like he knew something.
It felt like something I should tell him. I'd be upset if he knew something from Kyler that I didn't but it was hard to say it all again. So for right now, "Can I later? Not right now."
"Whenever you want." He told me.
It was quiet for a while. Nothing but a lone car driving by echoed in our ears.
"It's cold." I stared at his work uniform, what little of it remained. He was wearing a button down tonight but it didn't have buttons? It was just left opened. "Aren't you cold?"
He looked down at his semi exposed torso. "Ah, yeah. I tried tying the ends so I didn't look like a hooker or anything but it didn't really work." He said it with a completely straight face while my ears perked in surprise.
"Want my shirt?"
"Then what're you going to wear?"
"Oh." He was right, I thought. I didn't have anything else. "I can grab you a jacket."
"It's okay." His laugh was soft as he stopped me. Reaching out, he placed his hand on my thigh before I could get up. "You're sweet but it's not too cold, I'll be okay."
He left his hand there and I stared at it. He was closer too, I noticed, our thighs almost touching.
"How was work?"
"It was alright." His head titled thoughtfully. "I didn't make as many tips as I normally do."
I eyed his shirt again. "Probably too much clothing."
"Probably." He agreed with a closed mouthed laugh.
It was quiet again as we watched Sammy prance around in the grass. It wasn't a walk, but he was still left happy. "You don't have to talk about it," he started softly, "but are you okay?"
"I'm okay." I nodded. I didn't think about it, it just came out. Probably because I was, I felt okay. "Are you?"
"I'm okay." He nodded back. "I'm good. I got to see you twice today. Well- yesterday and today but basically today."
My tail wagged slowly behind me. "I lied to you this morning." I admitted quietly. His head titled up, making a questioning noise as he stared. "I was.. upset that you were late."
He groaned softly, looking guilty. "I knew it. I'm really sorry about that, it won't happen again."
"I wasn't- I didn't tell you to feel bad." Hesitantly, my hand grabbed his that rested on my thigh. I had to force my fingers to thread with his. They were just as cold as mine. "I felt bad for lying to you."
"Don't feel bad, I feel bad."
I frowned. "Don't feel bad."
"You don't feel bad."
My hand squeezed his. "If you don't then I won't."
"Okay." He agreed. "We both don't feel bad- even though one of us, I won't name names, actually has a reason to feel bad."
My lips twitched into a small, tired smile. "Good."
His nails were painted yellow. "I'm glad you told me." There was a smiley face on his middle finger. "I don't want you to feel like you have to lie to me. If you're upset, or just feeling anything, then I want you to be able to tell me."
Feeling guilty, I apologized. "Sorry."
"Ah~ We both just agreed we wouldn't feel bad."
"Sorry." I apologized again without thinking. "Oh my God, sorry- holy shit-"
He laughed and it cut off my endless cycle of apologies. His laugh was light and airy and reminded me of something warm. "It's okay." He assured, squeezing my hand from how much he laughed.
"No more apologies." I promised.
"Only when they're not necessary~ If you step on my foot I'm gonna expect an apology."
"I won't step on your foot." I promised again.
There seemed to be a permanent, fond smile on his face. It was small and looked a little tired but it made my heart race all the same. "Feeling better?" He asked. "Your eyes were red when you first came out so I was worried."
"I didn't cry." I told him unthinkingly. It was a reflex and I didn't mean to sound so defensive but I'm sure it came out that way. His smile didn't flatter. "Sorry- Ah-"
Rylan covered my mouth before I could apologize for apologizing because I wasn't supposed to apologize. "Okay." His head was titled up to look at me. "Nobody cried."
His hand fell the next second and we were left in silence. Sammy huffed in the distance. "..I did cry." I quietly admitted. "But not that much."
"That's okay." His whole arm slid onto my thigh and his side pressed into mine. He felt cold. "I cry sometimes."
"Really?" I couldn't picture it. "Why?"
"Different reasons." He shrugged. "Being an adult is hard sometimes. Living in general can be hard. I don't think you need a reason to cry."
"I can't picture you crying." I admitted sheepishly. "You seem so... grownup-y to me."
He nudged my side. "Grown ups cry too. I was having a really bad day a few weeks ago. Like, everything that could go wrong went wrong but I never cried. The day was almost over and I went out to get coffee but ended up spilling it on my way home and that's why I started crying." His laugh was soft.
I still couldn't picture it. "I was sad because.. my hands hurt. Whenever it gets cold, my hands hurt and it's harder to move my fingers." A pause, "Or maybe I miss my sister. I haven't seen her in a while. I want to talk to her in person sometimes." Another pause, "..I was.. worried Kyler might leave me. And you- I worry about it all the time." I could feel his reaction as another pause went by. "It's hard to draw sometimes, so that upset me too."
He wet his lips. "Sounds like you have a lot to be upset about."
"No." I denied. Then, "Maybe."
"I won't." He said. "Leave you, I mean. I know it's hard to believe me and just take my word for it, but I won't."
Right now, I felt fine. So instead of doubting him, "I know." And even though I felt fine, my stomach twisted with anxiety. "I know I'm not supposed to apologize, but sorry for being annoying. I know it's.. just annoying for me to think that all the time."
"It's not." He denied. "If you need to me say it a hundred times, I will. It's just a few words, nothing that simple could annoy me. You don't annoy me."
I wanted to believe everything he said but I could only believe so much at once. "You never.. get annoyed that I'm like this? Or even just wonder why?"
"I do wonder sometimes." He nodded. "But I never mind, it's never annoying." He thought about it, "I only wonder because you- it's seems like someone made you think really badly about yourself. To the point where you think someone who likes you so much would just leave you out of nowhere."
Someone did, I wanted to tell him. And I almost did. But Naomi never liked me, so it probably wasn't right to say.
"Someone," I started hesitantly, "I thought really liked me did that. I liked her a lot but she.. she didn't like me."
"She's a bitch."
I glanced at him, startled. His face was completely serious. "You-? You don't even know her. And I didn't even say anything yet." I stared, puzzled.
"Doesn't matter, she's a bitch." His words were firm. "She clearly hurt you. It was more than not liking you, right?" Slowly, I nodded. "Want me to beat her up? I might be her height so we can fight fairly."
I blinked, still puzzled. "She's shorter." I mumbled slowly.
"Oh." His gaze fell to the ground before looking up. "I wouldn't usually hit a girl.."
How can he believe me so blindly? I haven't even told him anything and yet.. "You believe me?"
"What? Of course I do." His eyebrows furrowed. "I didn't want to say anything because.." He waved his hand around and let it speak for itself. "But I can tell she fucked with your head and made your self esteem pretty low." It wasn't the nicest to hear but he was right.
He was completely on my side with almost no details. I wanted to ask now, before I told him everything, when I knew he would confidentially say yes. "Do you think I'm normal?"
"Normal?" His eyebrows raised, confused. "What do you mean?"
"Like," I flushed, "Do I seem normal? Or not normal?" A blush crept up my neck, suddenly regretting my words. "Crazy, I guess."
His gaze crept elsewhere as he thought about it seriously. "I guess not, no." My stomach dropped. "But I don't really think Kyler's that normal either. He's actually pretty fuckin' weird. He licked my cheek the other day for no reason." His nose scrunched, remembering it. "But I wouldn't say crazy."
Not normal. "So, you don't think so too?" My words were quiet, filled with dread. "I'm not normal?"
Hearing my tone, his gaze retuned. "What?" He saw my deep frown and frowned himself, worried. "What's wrong, babe? Is it what I just said?"
"You said I'm not normal." I repeated, almost having trouble getting it out.
"Not in a bad way." He rushed out, trying to fix whatever he thought he might've done. "Like- just not in a bad way. I don't think you're crazy." His words were firm towards the end. "You're not crazy."
"But you said no." My throat felt sore again. "That you don't think I'm normal."
"I don't really think anyone's normal, babe. I wasn't trying to just say you, I'm sorry." His thumb rubbed circles into my wrist as he frowned. "Normal shouldn't be a word that's applied to people."
I tried to calm down and fight the nausea I suddenly felt. What I dreaded most finally happened. If I had known he wouldn't agree, I never would've asked. Hearing my silence, "I really didn't mean it in a bad way, Chet. I'm sorry."
He looked guilty and I felt bad for making him feel that way. "I would've said the same thing if anyone else asked me. I don't think I'm normal either. What does normal even mean?"
I don't know, I wanted to repeat over and over. I use it as some goal but I don't even know. "I don't know." I admitted quietly.
"Normal should apply to your day, not to your feelings or yourself." He tried to explain so I'd understand. "If someone's said you're not normal, it wasn't right for them to do that. Being normal doesn't apply to living things."
I stared down at our joined hands. If I weren't so cold, I'm sure mine would tremble. "My mom said that. Not to me but I heard her.. she was crying."
He frowned. "Why would she say that? You shouldn't say that about your kid."
"Because she thinks I'm not," I waved my other hand around, "normal."
"By what standards? I'm telling you baby, normal isn't a thing you can characterize someone by."
"Then I don't understand." I felt helpless. "What she meant or anyone else meant. They want me to act a certain way but I don't know how."
"They want you to act normal and that's why you're confused." He grabbed my hand with both of his and turned towards me more. "You can't act normal, it's not a thing. Something that's not normal for you would be drinking alcohol, right? That's normal for me, I like to drink. Normal isn't a characteristic trait."
His hands were cold. "Just be yourself, like how you always are. That's normal."
I chewed at my lip. "Do you like how I am?"
"I love how you are. I don't want you to change unless you want to."
He loves how I am. It repeated in my head once, twice, and then three more times. He loves how I am. "Okay." My shoulders hunched shyly.
His head ducked down so he could meet my eyes that refused to look up. "No more comparing yourself to something that doesn't exist. You're 'normal' as you are right now."
"Okay." I agreed softly. I believe him, I realized. I believe him when he tells me he loves how I am. I believe him when he says people can't be normal. I never knew how to be normal, or what it meant to be normal. I've been trying to be normal for a while now but never knew how. This is why. "Thank you."
He kept staring up at me, head ducked down and tilted. "I think I'm gonna kiss you."
I blinked and then flushed some more. "Think?"
He gripped my chin, tilted my head down and met me halfway.
It was one kiss, one singular kiss, but I was breathless when he pulled away. "Now tell me about this bitch. What's her name?"
My stomach didn't ache from the thought of her, nor did her laugh ring in my head. Instead, I love how you are. "Her name's Naomi."
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i should've made this two chapters this is 8k but anyways 🕺
i honestly didn't know how i was gonna have chet reveal everything to them. tbh i wasn't gonna but all the comments were like can't wait for chet to tell them and i was like 😳😳 oh i gotta put it
dw dw naomi won't just pop up outta nowhere lmao, she's gone for good. i don't like writing like that. chet meant nothing to her so there's honestly no reason for her to see him. he'll forever stay as nothing to her.
um tell me what u think okay ily bye,
maddie <3