Nate was truly, properly, upset.
He didn't want to admit how much Theodore's undirect rejection affected him. All Nate had done since the night of the concert was cry, listen to sad music, go to class when needed, and curl up in his bed while the pit in his stomach grew. Theodore had texted him to try and make plans, but Nate kept dodging it with made-up excuses as to why he couldn't. Being around Theodore was too much at that moment. It pained him to think that his feelings weren't reciprocated in the slightest.
The only person he told about the situation to was Zivia. He felt too tired and embarrassed to show the others—his parents included—that he was utterly devastated. The night after the concert, they had a sleepover. He cried in her arms as they discussed how crappy the situation was. She listened to him ramble about his heartbreak. They watched a movie and listened to playlists and talked and lied on the floor together. He appreciated it more than anything; there was nothing more he needed than for someone to be there as he grieved what could've been.
Two weeks had passed by sooner than he'd realized. He remembered that time always passed fast and simultaneously slow when he was depressed. Nate wasn't in a depression, but it felt very similar. From the outside it did too apparently, because his parents had come into his room and asked him if he was. He assured them he was just tired and that he wasn't slipping back into an episode. They left him alone after he had insisted, but he felt bad for partially lying. They had done so much for him and yet he couldn't find the courage to tell them he was struggling. It was a nasty habit of his that he wished he could get rid of, but he just couldn't.
One night—after ignoring another message of Theodore's for two days—he lied in bed listening to Teenage Blue by Dreamgirl over and over again. Luna curled up against his chest and cooed as he stroked her soft fur. He was about to repeat the song once more before a knock sounded against his door.
"Come in," he sighed—assuming it was his mom or dad.
Instead, he was met with the sounds of multiple people shuffling in. He sat up and furrowed his brow.
"Hey Nate, the whole gang's here," Zivia spoke. "We decided that we're coming over and pulling you out of this funk ourselves."
Nate—for the first time in a bit—felt a smile creep up across his face.
"I brought your favorite," Vincent spoke next, plopping a giant bag of sour gummy worms in Nate's lap.
"Zivia didn't tell us what's happening, but I hate seeing you like this. It's probably the saddest thing I've ever witnessed," Amiel continued.
They all sat on his bed—making themselves at home.
"You didn't even come to our Despicable Me movie night," Leo added.
Nate realized that he wasn't wearing his sunglasses; Leo was the only one that hadn't seen his eyes out of the four. He figured it was too late now, and gave up trying to hide them.
"I'm sorry guys," he replied. "I just... it's about Theodore."
"Did he do something? Do I have to kill him?" Vincent immediately jumped.
"No," Nate grinned weakly. "We had a talk about dating, and he told me he's pansexual."
"That's great!" Amiel exclaimed.
"Yeah, except he also said he wasn't into anyone at the moment, which means he's not into me."
"Oh."
There was a silence that passed, and Nate felt numbness at the words that he spoke. It wasn't even upsettingly painful anymore; all he felt was emptiness. Suddenly, he felt arms fly around him.
"I'm so sorry Nate," Amiel soothed. "He doesn't deserve you."
"Yeah, fuck him," Leo added.
"Guys, he did nothing wrong. I'm not mad at him. It's not his fault he doesn't like me like that," he explained as they all squeezed his body with love.
"Sorry we get carried away. We just love you so much," Vincent spoke—kissing the top of Nate's head.
"I love you guys too."
Another silence passed of them holding each other, and Nate felt his soul become calmer. He felt comforted and cared for. It was perfect.
"So..." Zivia began, pulling away from the man as the others followed. "What are we going to do to have some fun?"
Nate pondered. "I don't know, really."
"We could go see a movie, bake, go to the park..."
"Let's bake. I've been dying to have some cookies, I won't lie," he replied.
"You mean that we bake and you sit there like a princess?" Zivia joked.
"You know it."
"Get some shoes on and let's go buddy," Vincent urged—practically shoving Nate up and off the bed.
"Jesus, alright, alright."
Nate pretended to act bothered and annoyed, but deep down he had never been gladder to see his friends. They held him emotionally together as he found his converse, tied them up, and left in Vincent's shitty 2009 gray Acura. Nate was surprised the thing hadn't died by now. It had temporarily, but the group of friends were all waiting for the day it finally called it quits.
The drive with all of them in the car was crammed and loud, and normally this would be a little much for Nate, but after spending days alone with little to no stimulation, it was refreshing. Vincent insisted they listened to Justin Timberlake, and even though multiple people rejected the idea, he did it anyway. Nate talked to Leo about school and work. He was surprised how talkative Leo was; normally the man didn't say much to him. Vinnie was louder than anyone would've liked, but it made them all laugh and shake their heads in amusement. Nate could feel himself slowly easing back into a state of non-distress.
As they filed into the grocery store, Nate held onto Amiel's arm, deeming him to be the least chaotic out of the other four. They needed to head to the baking isle but that didn't stop them from taking detours along the way. Nate was there for the ride, and prayed to god no one in the establishment said anything about his disability.
"You know, I ate a couple of these once," Vincent exclaimed.
"Those pill-water dinosaurs," Amiel spoke softly into Nate's ear, giving him context.
"That doesn't surprise me one bit," Leo responded as Nate sighed.
"Oh! Dude! I really truly think we should make our own ice cream this summer. I would kill to make a banana flavor," Vincent continued. "Fun fact, I just learned what plantains were last week. I was at Trader Joes when the finest woman I've ever seen walked by me and I saw she had plantain chips in her hand, and I was like "yoooo what is that?" and she was like "ahaha plantain chips" and then I didn't ask for her Instagram because I was too chicken."
Everyone paused as they tried to process the verbal dump that the man had just sputtered.
"Genuine question, Vinnie," Amiel began. "Did you forget to take your ADHD meds again?"
Vincent shrugged. "Probably."
All of them groaned—all too familiar with the predicament.
"I'm just kidding. I stopped taking them on purpose."
"Vinnie!" they all shouted.
"Just kidding again, I'm switching over to a new medication."
They all sighed with relief after rolling their eyes and shaking their heads.
The five reached their destination in the baking aisle after not much longer, and Zivia and Vincent argued about which Yoplait flavor was the best. Nate found himself laughing and gleaming in the presence of his ridiculous friends, and it felt good to be doing so. It made him realize that if him and Theodore stopped becoming friends, he had them; Zi, Vinnie, Amiel, and Leo couldn't have been better people. They made him feel loved despite his internal judgments of himself.
After a 30-minute trip to the grocery store that should have taken 10, the five of them made their way back to Nate's house and began baking. Amiel and Zivia took the lead while Vincent kept sneaking cookie dough to himself and Nate as Leo played with Luna. Once the treats were done, they all managed to devour every single one of them over the course of a B-List horror film. By the end of the night their stomachs hurt from the laughter and sugar that had taken control of them. They sprawled themselves out on the couch and floor—taking up much more space than they needed to.
"I finally broke up with Thalia. For good," Leo had spoken after the movie finished.
"I'm so proud of you, man," Vincent replied as he slugged the other man in the arm. "Having an off-and-on relationship like that is not fun for anyone."
"How'd she take it?" Zivia asked.
"Surprisingly well," he yawned. "I honestly think she wanted to break up too but didn't want to be the one to say anything."
"That makes sense. I've definitely done that before," she replied.
"It's scary to break up with someone," Amiel added.
"It was terrifying, but I'm glad it's over. I just want to focus on work."
"I need to do the same, but I just can't stop getting laid."
Everyone rolled their eyes and scoffed at Vincent's remark. They all knew—despite his humorous, "player" persona—that he was a sweetheart that valued romance more than anything.
"Yeah right," Zivia replied as she kicked him in the shin, causing him to yelp in pain.
"How's Ella?" Nate asked with a smirk.
"...What do you mean?"
"Nothing. Just asking how your friend is."
"Ooooo Ziviaaaa," Vincent teased—acting like a middle schooler who had just found out their friend's secret crush.
"We are just friends. She's just... so talented and funny. And smart. And she smells good. And she's beautiful," she rambled. "Okay, maybe I like her a teensy bit."
"Fucking knew it!" Nate remarked.
"You're so gay," Amiel scoffed, earning a punch from Zivia.
"Whatever, I don't want to hear about it, mister 'I would rip out my organs for Frank Ocean'."
"AND? What's your point here?"
Nate laughed—shaking his head as he pressed his back flush with the couch. His friends continued to discuss various topics in their life, and Nate just listened; there was nothing more he had to say about his own self, all he had done was be sad.
He sighed in disapproval of Vincent's story of how he ate exclusively mini donuts and Gatorade for two days, and sat there in disbelief that this man had made it to 19. When Zivia began to berate Vinnie—as she normally did—Nate's phone went off.
The automated voice read the name aloud. "Theodore."
Nate's breath stopped as the entire room went silent.
"Shit," Vincent exclaimed softly.
"What do I do?" Nate panicked.
"What do you want to do?" Leo replied.
The blind man gulped. Despite his heartache, he had missed Theodore more than anything. Maybe, he figured, he could push his feelings aside until they eventually dissipated. It couldn't be that hard, could it?
"Hello?" he spoke into the phone—his voice shaking with nerves.
"Hey, Nate," Theodore said back in a voice that was duller than usual. "I hope I'm not bothering you."
"No, no, you're not."
"Okay, good, um... How are you?"
Nate furrowed his brow. "I'm alright."
"Has everything been okay? I just haven't really heard from you the past two weeks and I-," he stopped. "I just wanted to check in."
"Yeah, I'm okay Theodore, thank you. Life has just been busy," Nate lied—instantly feeling guilt flow into him.
There was a soft pause. "I'm sorry that I dumped that stuff on you that night at the concert."
Nate ran a hand through his hair out of distress. Technically Nate was upset at what Theodore had said that night, but it had nothing to do with anything other than his current romantical likes. The last thing Nate wanted was for him to think he did something wrong.
"No, you didn't, I promise," he replied. "I'm sorry I've been distant, things have just been... weird. I promise you did nothing wrong, though."
"Okay, I just wanted to make sure," Theodore said. "It's okay if not, but are you free tomorrow?"
The safer option was about to exit Nate's mouth until his heart took over.
"Yes, I'm free."
As if he could see it, Nate could sense Theodore's smile through the phone.
"Great! Want to hang out at my place again? We can also go do something else-"
"Your place sounds nice."
"Cool," Theodore sighed. "I'm excited. I've missed you quite a bit."
Nate's heart stopped. It fluttered just as it had done a million times. He knew he had to kill this crush somehow, but it was already harder than he thought it'd be.
"I've missed you too, Theodore," the words painfully seeped out.
"I'll text you what time, and I'll pick you up of course. I can't wait."
"I can't either. Thank you, Theodore. Bye."
"Goodnight, Nate."
The phone found its way to Nate's side as he stayed unmoving. The atmosphere during the call was weird; he wasn't sure how to feel about any of it.
"So," Amiel began. "What was that about?"
Nate sighed. "He was just calling to ask how I was doing and if I was free tomorrow. I caved. I don't know if it's a bad idea or not."
"Did he say anything else?" Zivia questioned.
"Yeah, I don't know though. He's so... confusing? I don't know if I'm just being stupid or whatever but sometimes the things he says—or how he says it—makes it feel like it's not just a friend talking to a friend."
"How so?"
"On the phone he was just emphasizing how much he missed me and how excited he was, and I know that's how a good friend is but the way he said it was unusual. It felt deeper, almost," he explained. "Also, the night I found out when he said he wasn't into anyone, he told me I was his best friend and that he didn't quite fit in with his other friends. Maybe I'm just making all this up, but I'm not sure. I've had the feeling before where I think that maybe he reciprocates my infatuation, but then he goes and says the opposite."
"Woah, that's a lot," Leo exclaimed.
"I'm not just saying this because I love you and don't want you to hurt, but the way he looks at you says something different than what his mouth does," Amiel spoke softly. "When we all hung out, every time he looked at you he almost seemed in awe. He was nice to all of us of course, but there was something different. He listened to you with such intent and he had a smile on him the entire time."
"I noticed that too," Zivia added. "I know that he said he wasn't into anyone, but maybe he meant that he wasn't into just anyone. I don't want to force this obviously, but I'm not sure. From what you've told me and from what I've seen, it seems like you guys are more than friends in an unspoken way."
"Also, it's not like he's looking at you like that to lead you on for fun or anything; you can't see, so how would you know?"
As Vincent spoke, Nate felt a flurry of confusion run through his entire body. His friends would never lie about what they thought because all of them were a bit to honest for their own good. Nate also felt as if Theodore had flirted with him at one point or another, and he normally brushed it off by accepting that Theodore was just being nice or toying with him, but when his friends talked about the way he watched Nate, it didn't make sense. He never actually understood what that meant—because even when he had remaining vision, it wasn't enough to notice facial features—and what it entailed, but if his friends said it meant something, then it meant something.
Were things the way he thought they were?
"I guess I'll find out tomorrow," he replied.