| CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
| an organized mess
ɴᴏʟᴀɴ ᴍᴜʟʟᴇɴ
Oakley:
How about you ask me out on a proper date?
I didn't remember the last time I'd used up my facial muscles this much. I'd given up on trying to keep a poker face because I'd already lost that battle.
"Did you just win the lottery?" Maria asked.
"He's texting someone," Mylo said, coming up from behind me. I'd put my phone away so quickly it slammed down on the table, and Maria physically looked hurt at the force with which my phone hit the table.
"Sorry," I said, not to anyone in particular. Almost like I was apologizing to my phone.
"Aaliyah?" Mylo asked, for once getting it right. It'd been the first time in weeks. Everyone was starting to believe he did it on purpose, as statistically he must've guessed right at least half the time.
"Yeah, that's me," she said. "You finally got it."
He let out a small gesture of victory with his fist and then sat down between Maria and me. "Who're you texting?" he asked. I hadn't noticed he was speaking to me until I looked up from the table and realized everyone was looking at me.
"Just a friend," I said, biting my lip to hide my smile.
"What's going on?"
My smile had faded as quickly as it had appeared as Kylan sat at the table.
"He's texting someone," Aaliyah said. "I'm guessing it's his soon-to-be number sixteen."
Kylan looked at me with curious eyes. "Is that true, Nolan?"
"It's just a friend," I mumbled, putting my phone in my pocket safely. "And it's my business, not yours." That reply was really only directed at Kylan, but Mylo also took it personally.
"Stingy," Mylo said. "Is she hot at least?"
Kylan sat down straight across from me with an amused grin. "Is she?"
Adela innocently assuming I was talking about girls at the restaurant a few weeks ago was one thing, but Mylo immediately assuming now was somewhat of a problem.
I didn't want to be in the closet. I didn't want people to think I was straight. I didn't want to hide my sexuality anymore. But when straight people made these types of assumptions, it was like I was forced to either get into the closet or come out. And of course Kylan had to be there to pour salt on the wound. I wanted to throw in his face how not in the closet I was, but I couldn't. I'd never properly come out to anyone before.
"You guys are disgusting," Maria said, hitting Mylo in the arm. "I bet she's very kind, like Nolan."
The definite pro was that I now knew Maria really didn't overhear Kylan talking about my sexuality.
"He doesn't seem like the kind to care about kindness," Aaliyah said, to which everyone—but mainly Mylo—practically gasped in shock. Hell, even I was shocked. I did care about personality.
"You've spoken to him, right? He's the definition of dreamy. I mean, he's like ideal boyfriend material right here."
"He's media trained. Has been for a lot longer than any of us, excluding Kylan maybe. If you look anywhere past that facade, you can tell he's like a total freak and a bit of an asshole."
The words hit me harder than I thought any words could. How come even me barely speaking got me labeled a freak and an ass?
"No he's not," Maria said, defending me. "He's sweet."
"Eh, he can be a bit of an asshole," Kylan said with a shrug. I had to squeeze my phone between my fingers to keep my cool. Flipping out on him would only prove his point.
"Yeah, but not in a 'god, I hate him' way. Like, I'd somehow still trust you to watch my drink," Aaliyah reassured me. I didn't know what that meant, though.
"Oh I think I get it," Mylo said. "Yeah, I see it now. Totally the hookup kind of guy, but in a respectful way. His dad kinda gives off those same vibes."
"Dude, how are you gonna mention his dad in a conversation about him hooking up with people?"
"Why are we having a conversation about my hookups in the first place?" I was ready to get up from the table to have lunch in my trailer again, but Mylo already saw this coming and placed his arm around my shoulders. Now I couldn't even leave without making a scene.
"See?" Aaliyah said. "Total asshole. But in a respectful way."
"Anyway, back to the point of the conversation... is she hot?" Mylo asked, to which Maria punched him again.
"I bet she is," Kylan said with a smirk. "What exactly does she look like? What's her name?"
I tried not to show any emotion. He just wants a reaction.
"Can we talk about something else?" I asked. I never liked having all this attention on me. This wasn't an exception. In fact, this was worse.
"You're so mysterious," Mylo said. "I love it."
The day went by a lot quicker when I didn't talk to anyone. I instead checked my phone every chance I got, and while I did get teased into oblivion for it, it was better than exchanging any words in the same general area Kylan was in.
Unfortunately for me, Kylan tried everything to make us appear 'friends'. He was like a parasite leeching for my energy.
"Are you mad at me or something?" he asked after I'd deliberately avoided him a couple of times.
"No," I said.
"You know you can't lie to me."
"I can't lie to anyone. You're not special."
"So you are mad at me. Why?"
"'What's her name?' Seriously? I thought you were the one telling me I should keep it to myself but now you're the one putting me on the spot?"
"I only solidified it," Kylan said. "Now they know you're straight. You're welcome."
"I didn't want them to think I'm straight. I didn't want them to think anything. Now it just feels like I'm a fucking liar." I had done everything I could to keep this ambiguous, knowing I can't lie and I don't want to, but now all of that plan was ruined by Kylan's little joke.
"Who is he anyway?" Kylan asked, ignoring everything I'd said.
I watched him for a moment, but he only flared his nostrils and he breathed out the air in his lungs.
"Bye, Kylan," I said, collecting my last stuff from the trailer and walking out the door.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to come off that way. I'm asking as a friend. Come on. What does he look like? What's his name? I won't tell."
"You want to talk?" I asked him. "Then let's talk." I turned back around and opened the door to my trailer. Kylan looked at me, but didn't move.
"What?" he asked.
"Let's talk," I repeated.
He walked right in, his hands pushed into the pockets of his sweatpants.
"What's wrong?" he asked. "Is it your dad again?"
"What? No," I said, shaking my head. I didn't really care about what my dad was doing anymore. And even if there was an issue, Kylan would be the last person I'd discuss it with at this point. "This is about you. And a little bit of me."
"Then what's wrong? We're on good terms now, right?"
I didn't get enough time to think of my reply.
"Right?" he repeated, pressing a little harder.
"I want to be civil," I told him. "But I don't see us being friends working out."
"We are civil," he said. "We're cool. You said so yourself."
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I trust you."
"You broke things off with me at my worst moment. How come you're the one having issues trusting me?"
"Fuck it. Whatever," I said. "I'm fine being where we're at." This wasn't worth having an argument over.
"You're fine with constantly looking for something to pick a fight over?"
"I didn't say that. I said we're civil and I'm fine with that."
"I just told you how you left me to deal with some serious issues by myself, and your only response is 'fuck it'? Because if it's gonna be like that, I don't think being civil is written in the stars for us."
"That's not what I—"
"I have ears, Nolan. Do you even care about what happened to me after you left me?"
It wasn't what I meant. I knew it wasn't what I meant. I cared. He made sure I did, sending me texts that something happened and I needed to come back, but I never did since I knew it was all just a trick to get me to be his secret again.
I didn't not care. I tried too hard not to, but it ended up hurting us both. But maybe it was easier for me to heal.
"I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you."
"Sure you didn't," he said with a scoff. "I thought you loved me. You said so yourself."
"I— I did. I never lied."
"Then why did you leave me at my lowest?"
"You... I... I got hurt."
"When you left, my parents were mad. They knew the show would have to end now, which meant there wouldn't be enough income to sustain my family. And with this fucking thing on my face," he said, pointing at the birthmark that ran from his cheek down to his chin, "I knew I would never get cast as the hot main character or love interest in anything. Do you know what I had to do to get this part? The part of someone's brother?"
He didn't wait for me to answer, as his eyes were already welling up with tears.
"I had to suck off the dear person that blessed us with this story in the first place. And then he chose you over me to play the lead."
"I— I'm sorry." I couldn't look at him. Just hearing his voice crack during every other word was enough.
"If you'd never left, I could've proven myself. I finally wasn't a kid anymore so I could prove my acting was worth anything. Instead you..." A few drops of clear liquid fell to the floor, followed by a silent sound of a sob, but he swallowed the sound quickly.
"I didn't know."
It was silent at first, so I thought I'd finally said something that must've triggered him in such a way he was finally done with me. However, it felt a lot less relieving than the last time I thought this would end.
"You only think of yourself. Poor little Nolan got yelled at and thinks he has PTSD. Fuck you."
"I know. I'm sorry," I said, still looking down at the floor. He grabbed my chin and made me look up at him. His brown eyes had darkened and he didn't blink.
"That's not an apology."
"I'm sorry," I said again, a little louder this time, while looking into his eyes.
"Sorry for what?"
"For leaving."
He held onto my face for a bit longer, his fingers digging into the skin on my chin and his eyes wandering over my face. I forced myself to keep my eyes on his. I knew that whenever he got like this, even the littlest mistake would make things worse. He'd keep me here, handing onto my face for an hour until I did whatever he wanted me to.
So my eyes were on him, with all mixed emotions. But above all, fear, shame and guilt exceeded.
"I'm sorry for leaving," I said, after he'd seemingly gotten stuck in thought.
He did let go of me, but his eyes still kept me in my place. I didn't dare make a single move in fear that he would stop me.
"I'll see you next week," he said, and then he left.
My heart had gained its normal rhythm again, and I took the biggest breath I ever had in my life.
My hands were still shaking as I drove back home, and as soon as I got back to the comfort of my bedroom, I took off my clothes, throwing them beside my bed, and headed for the bathroom.
The hot water running over my skin instantly managed to keep me calm me down, and I could breathe normally again.
•••
I texted Oakley that night that I'd be free on the weekend, and it was the last free one he had before having to go on his tour.
We only agreed on 3 PM or later, but the entire morning I was busy setting everything up. I baked some cookies, made lots of food and bought some drinks, but I wasn't sure what to do. Staying at home would be boring, but we couldn't exactly go out for a picnic on the beach either.
Hours went by which I used to get myself cleaned up. I took a shower, taking a lot longer than I usually would. I made sure my hair looked nice, but besides thinking of where to go in the first place, I also had to decide on what to wear.
It was an endless cycle. I didn't know what to wear because I didn't know where to go, and I didn't know where to go because I didn't know what kind of vibe I was trying to get.
I felt like he'd probably like something different that still felt casual. I didn't want it to be like any other time we'd hung out. He asked for a proper date, and I wanted to give him that.
But then again, the top of the Eiffel Tower wasn't exactly an option either.
It wasn't until 2 PM that the panic started to settle in enough for me to zoom in and out of focus. So the thing I decided to do was call my best friends across the country to help me, desperately hoping either one of them would pick up.
The phone rang, and I almost gave up, looking through my dresser again to find something to wear, until Ava's voice immediately brought a smile to my face.
"You never call," she said. "Why are you calling?"
"I need your help," I said, grabbing my phone from my bed. Ava covered her eyes quickly.
"God, you're not naked, are you?"
"I'm not naked," I said. "I need your help."
"So you only call when you need my help, huh?" she asked. "That's gonna require a payment."
"Anything you want, I'll give it to you."
She narrowed her eyes in suspicion.
"I have a date," I told her. She didn't ask, but I felt like that was useful information if I wanted her to help me.
"What? When?" Not even the latency could make it so there was a silence between me and her speaking. It was like she reacted before I even finished my sentence.
"Like, in an hour, but I don't know what to do or what to wear or—"
"In an hour?" she asked.
"Yeah and I'm so fucking nervous, I don't even know where to take him or what to wear or..."
This time she was silent. She hadn't interrupted me yet, which to me meant this was a lost cause.
"Ava," I groaned. "I need your help."
"We could work on what to wear first."
"Right," I said. "I was thinking casual but good."
"Did you try calling Keith?"
"Of course I did," I said. "He won't pick up."
I held up a blue button-up, but threw it away again as I didn't feel the motif on it really screamed 'casual'. It was followed quickly by a red one with short sleeves, which was somehow both too boring and too out there for me.
"Wait, that red one again," Ava said.
"What about it?"
"Just put a white tee under it, some accessories, and you'll look amazing."
"You think so?" I asked, already trying on what she had in mind. "Can you help me come up with a place to go? Staying at my place would be kinda boring but I can't take him out to some park either."
"I mean what we're you planning on doing in the first place?"
"I already made a bunch of food," I told her. "So I was thinking some kind of... food date."
"The only thing I can think of is a picnic in your backyard, but I doubt that's what you were looking for."
"I still feel like it wouldn't be special enough."
"Probably should've thought of that before stress cooking," she said. "Who's this guy anyway?"
"What accessories?" I asked her, trying to change the topic of conversation. She wouldn't fall for it, and I knew this, but she let it go anyway.
"A nice watch, some silver, Keith says you're a silver person."
Fuck, I just put my contacts in. Would it be extreme to switch them out for my glasses now just because I knew he liked them? He wouldn't know anyway, right?
I sounded like a crazy person. At this point, I wasn't any better than an obsessive fan.
"I— I think I need to take a few minutes to get my shit together," I admitted to her.
"Call me, alright?" she said. "I might not be much help now, but I need you to tell me how it goes," she said, grinning at me like I'd just told her I was gonna marry him and have his three children.
"I'll call you," I said, my smile now matching hers. "As long as you catch me up on your college adventures."
"Will do. Now get ready, tiger."
"Oh my god, shut up," I said. "Bye."
"Oh, and don't forget, it's only your first date, so no kissing and defi—"
"Bye, Ava."
"No sex! Bye!"
I took a deep breath after hanging her up, and let myself fall down on my bed. I needed to clear my head so I wouldn't be this nervous anymore, but the longer I lied there, the worse it got.
After what I thought was at least fifteen minutes but turned out the be only five, I got up and went outside. Worst case scenario, it would still just be a picnic in my backyard.
The weather was perfect. There was a clear sky, the temperature was pleasant, I had the perfect food for a good picnic, but it wasn't enough.
I looked at the door in the very corner of our fence, and immediately an idea popped up into my head. I knew the door opened up to a forest area. A hiking trail led almost directly to it. And just a few minutes away, there was a clearing. No one seemed to know about this trail of the clearing except for me.
I ran to the clearing quickly, and it was the same as I remembered. I'd attached a rope on a piece of wood to a branch so it would work as a swing, and there was a box of supplies hidden in the bushes I hadn't touched in years, but most importantly, someone had found this place long before me and placed a picnic table in the dead center of it. I always assumed it was the person who lived in the house before us. I vaguely remembered my mom talking about him being some lottery winner at the end of his life.
I couldn't believe I'd forgotten about this place. I texted Oakley right away. It was almost 3 and I still had to move the food over and make sure everything was nice.
You:
Date is all arranged. I'll pick you up at 3:30.
Oakley:
I'll be waiting
•••
"Hey there," he said as he opened the door. I was immediately met with a smile, and a prominent dimple in his cheek.
"Hi," I mumbled back, smiling at him. For a moment, the only thing we did was look at each other. He looked better than ever, his curls shinier, his skin glowier, his eyes warmer. He wasn't dressed much differently from how he usually dressed. Just a simple pair of jeans with a white long sleeve. Yet somehow the simplicity of it made him look better. "You look... you look nice," I said, for a lack of better words.
"You look better," he said.
I disagreed. Despite me putting a lot of effort in what I wore, I felt like he outdressed me.
"Oh, I got you this," he said, pulling out a rose from behind his back. "I felt bad for tricking you into taking me, instead of me just taking you, but I'm terrible at dates and I didn't want to fuck it up, you know?"
I let out a small chuckle, and he laughed too.
"I actually love flowers," I said. I didn't know I did until I said it.
"You don't think they're a bit cheesy, or cliche? I mean, especially since it's a rose..."
I shook my head. "No. I think they're classic. Especially because it's a rose."
He let out a deep breath. "Oh, thank god. I started second-guessing myself."
"Should we go?" I asked him.
He nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, let's go."
We got in my car, and I drove off to my place. Most of the drive there was spent in silence, which felt awkward as talking came pretty easily with us most of the time.
Part of the reason for this long and uncomfortable silence was me being nervous. I hadn't been on a date in years. My hands stuck to the steering wheel like I'd glued them together.
"So, where are we going?" Oakley asked about halfway to my place, his gaze fixed on me.
"Someplace in the woods," I said, until I realized I sounded like a creep "It's... it's just a place I used to go to when I wanted to be alone. I'll just drive to my house and we can walk from there."
"So you're taking me to your private space? I must be really special," Oakley said, grinning proudly.
"Oh trust me, I have a much better spot," I said, now grinning myself. "Maybe one day I'll take you there too."
The remainder of the ride there was silent again, but this time a lot more comfortable as we'd at least exchanged some words now.
It wasn't until we'd just gotten out of the car that he decided it was a good idea to talk again.
"Where now?" he asked, standing right in front of me.
"See that door over there?"
He turned around, looking at the somewhat sketchy-looking door, now come to think of it. When he looked back at me, he nodded.
"I swear to god, if you're secretly a serial killer—" Oakley said.
"I promise you, I'm not," I said, holding back a chuckle. "Follow me."
He let me walking front of him, but before I could really start heading toward the door, he grabbed my hand. I turned around to look at him, and he only smiled.
"What?" I asked him.
"Safety precaution," he said with a proud grin.
I let him hold it, and made my way to the door, dragging him along with me.
"It's just a clearing, but it used to be my comfort place," I explained to him. "I thought it would be perfect for a date since no one will see us, yet we won't have to be locked up."
I liked to assume this was someone's secret hiding spot before it was mine. Likely someone who lived in our house before we did.
We reached the clearing not long after, and Oakley took his time to look around.
"Wait, how did you ever even find this place?" he asked.
"I needed to get away from everything, so I took a walk and found this," I explained.
I found it a few months before I broke it off with Kylan, after we started arguing more and more. It was the wonky place where I felt at peace for months until I decided on finishing my high school education.
"What's in there?" he asked, looking at the storage box I placed next to the picnic table.
"Bunch of essentials," I replied. "Lanterns, blankets, flashlights... and in here," I said, dropping my backpack on the ground, "I brought food."
"So does this mean you'll take me here more often?" Oakley asked, suddenly a lot closer. I turned around to look at him.
"If you want to, of course," I said, my cheeks flushing. "We could always just go back to my house."
"I'd love to," Oakley said, smiling too. I looked away after I noticed myself staring too much. "I almost feel normal out here."
"I- there's cookies. And I brought water too. And uhm, just look through it," I said, handing him my backpack.
"So we're picnicking in the woods?" he asked.
"Uhm, I guess. Yes. I mean, yes. Well, I mean yes if you're okay with that?"
Everything I said was turning into this incoherent jumbled up mess.
"It's perfect," he said. "Hey, Nolan?"
"Yeah?" I looked at him again.
"I'm nervous too, you know. I think you're the first person I've ever liked in this way."
We were worlds apart when it came to nervousness, it turned out. When I was nervous, I would stumble over my words, stutter, and refuse to make eye contact. He seemed calm and collected. I would barely be able to tell he was nervous if he didn't say it.
"I- I'll just go set this up," I said softly, forcing myself to look him in the face instead of looking away. I'd already placed a nice tablecloth over the table, and now I was setting the food up. The rose he'd given me sitting on the table. "It's been a while since I've been here," I said as I took the lids off the containers.
"I think I want to come here more often," he said. "It's quiet and peaceful here. I don't feel like there's a million eyes on me right now. It's like I'm back in middle school."
I had never known what it was like to not constantly have people watching you, but right here, I did feel different. Maybe this was what that was like for me too, then. It was pretty peaceful, even considering I was here with Oakley.
"I don't know any different, but I do feel calmer out here."
"Sometimes I forget that you grew up in all this," he said. I took the lid of the last container left and put it away. "What was that like?"
"I don't know. That's just my reality, I guess."
I looked at him again, and he had a little smile on his face.
"All this looks so good," he said. "You did all of this yourself?"
I nodded, making a face that I could only describe as shock. a bit feigned, but not completely if I could trust his eyes in the distance, trying to tear us apart.
"Thank you for all this. I know the date isn't over yet, but I know it's gonna be the best one ever."
"It's not too much? I promise you I'm not clingy or anything. I mean, I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I?" I could've just ordered everything, or at least some of it. And maybe the woods weren't that great of an idea either, since it was a bit serial killer-esque. I should've thought this through.
He reached under the table with his hand, and I looked at it, not knowing what he wanted me to hand him.
"Your hand, dumbass," he said with a cheeky smile. A blush spread over my cheeks, and I tentatively gave him my hand. He took my fingers between his and raised our hands so that they weren't resting on the bench anymore. "This is the best date I've ever been on."
I didn't know how to reply in a way that wasn't insulting to either of us, so I kept my mouth shut.
"When I come back, I'll make it even," he told me, and then he let go of my hand. "I'm going to start with the sandwich. It looks amazing," he said, already reaching in.
We ate and spent hours talking as per usual. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't awkward at all, but somehow the awkwardness made it so much better. We laughed about it multiple times as Oakley wasn't afraid to point it out at all.
By the time we had enough of being outside, it was already growing darker.
We walked back to my house, and Oakley seemed to be stuck in thought. The way he was staring out in front of him, and he didn't really talk.
"What are you thinking about?" I asked. He snapped back and looked at me, a bit stunned.
"Oh, well, just the tour and stuff. I wish I could spend more time with you, to see where it goes and all."
"We can text. And call. And when you come back, we can just... continue?"
"Yeah," he said, the corners of his lips curling up in a smile. "Let's do that."
We went up to my room, and the first thing he did was let himself fall on my bed.
"I'm so tired," he said. He stared at the ceiling, his hands resting on his stomach. "Have I ever told you how much I like your room?"
"You've only ever told me about how much you hate my DVD collection."
His laughter was so curated, almost melodic, which was jarring to hear. He sang to me once, and his voice was beautiful. It was soft and radiant, similar in tone to the way he spoke.
I sat down next to him, and his hand quickly found its way to mine again. Tingles ran through my fingers like they were sparklers.
"Your room is like an organized mess," he said. Our eyes met and held each other for a moment. I even almost forgot he'd just told me something.
"I've never been a very neat person," I admitted.
His eyes sparkled when they looked at me, and a soft smile was still situated on his face. He pulled at my hand lightly. I took that as a sign to lie down next to him. He turned to he was now laying on his side, an arm tucked beneath his head.
His dark eyes scanned over my face, and without thinking too much of it, my hand tightened around his slightly.
"It's kind of difficult to get to know you. It's like you're always filtering through everything you do or say, but it's like your room tells me everything I need to know without hiding anything."
"Oh yeah? What does it tell you then?"
"First of all, you're a mess. You're all over the place," he said, grinning as he turned around to look around my room. "You don't like being alone, despite always avoiding people. I can tell by the fact that you do everything up here. Your scripts, books you're reading, food... you do it all up here because everywhere else in the house feels empty."
He wasn't smiling anymore, and neither was I.
"What else?" I asked him.
He walked around my room, looking at things on my desk, things discarded halfway underneath my bed, my wall of props... and the longer he looked, the more I started worrying. What if he found something he didn't like?
"You sort of halfway make your bed," he noted. "You'd think it's part of the organized mess aesthetic, but it also tells me you don't mind waking up in the morning, as long as no one asks anything if you."
He laughed, making me smile again. But the smile faded quickly as his laugh was only short-lived.
"You're a pretty neat person," I told him. I'd only seen his room once, but it wasn't the mess mine was. Not nearly, despite having random instrument parts laying around everywhere.
"Then I guess that makes us opposites."
"Right, and opposites attract."
I looked at him until my cheeks burnt red, but made sure I didn't give him something to tease me over by turning around.
"I think I have to go home," he told me, his smile slowly fading away, and with it the dimple in his left cheek.
"Okay," I said, the word coming out in somewhat of a whisper. I cleared my throat. "I'll drive you home, then."
"Thank you," he said. He held my hand in his. My hand was sweaty and hot, but he didn't pull away. With his free hand, he pushed some of my hair out of my face. I let out a chuckle, to which he smiled again. "What?" he asked.
"Nothing," I said, keeping my fleeting thought to myself.
"What is it?" he pressed, his smile broadening.
"It's just... if you wanna kiss me, just say so," I told him.
"Can I?" he asked me, to which I gave him a little nod.
He didn't hesitate and leaned in the moment I gave him the okay. My eyes closed as I felt his breath over my lips, and allowed his to touch mine.
The kiss was short and sweet, and a few followed after the first, and I couldn't help but to smile into it. We laughed as our teeth touched, and continued exchanging kisses, and only stopped as the laughter made it impossible for us to continue.
"I had the best day," he said, his forehead still pressed against mine.
"Me too," I said, looking down at our hands, which had found themselves woven together. "But it's time I drive you home now."
He nodded, agreeing with me. "Let's do that."