(Cool by Troye Sivan [i also suggest listening to Hey, Jude while reading because yes])
TWENTY-SEVEN: when you fail to make it public.
"Can I hold your hand?" Paul had asked as we walked back to his apartment, my eyes were on the ground and my smile was unwavering. I could finally call Paul mine and with that confidence, I felt like I could do anything.
That was until he asked to touch me affectionately in public.
My eyes went wide as he smiled at me as if it was no big deal, as if he were asking about the weather. My mouth gaped open when he looked at me with such nonchalance. And then I remembered that Paul was confident. A few stupid stares wouldn't bother him...
So why should they bother me?
I blinked before sucking up my pride... I bet that cashier wouldn't be scared to hold his hand.
And with that, I nodded and his warm hand slipped into mine and I thanked the lord that no one was around to see it at that point. I felt him place a small kiss on my cheek, my skin warming and I felt on top of the world... sort of the same rush I got when I played soccer or the rush I used to get when my parents congratulated me on straight-As that I always seemed to achieve despite being awful in Math. I hadn't had much of that since moving out and I definitely had fallen to a barely-C student but the rush was still there whenever Paul was around. My heart did that weird vibrating thing, a smile on my face as he tugged me closer by my hand and it felt right.
It felt beyond amazing and he was my boyfriend and that was all that mattered at that moment.
Until we turned the corner.
There were people, loads of people and Paul must've noticed my anxiety or he could feel that I would pull away because his hand tightened, still loose enough to be gentle. He was firm, though, attempting to get my tense body to relax and I appreciated it but with my emotional breakdown building up, all I could think was to get back to his place and get there fast. I didn't want to let go of him and somewhere along the way, I'd convinced myself that nothing could happen to me if he were there.
Rubbing his thumb over my knuckles, he leaned over, voice calming just how it always was, "they don't matter, Jules. Just you and me right now, okay?" He was whispering, my heart beats slowing and shoulders slightly slumping but my mind was on overdrive. It was impossible for me to keep my eyes from darting around in fear. Because that was it, I was terrified and I couldn't admit it out loud, my palms were sweating and I had to bite my lip to keep it from trembling but I had to stick it out. I was determined to prove that I wasn't embarrassed of Paul and even more determined to be a good boyfriend because he didn't deserve to be my secret... I didn't want to hide him.
We were making it down the street, Paul's voice reassuring me every couple of seconds with murmurs of "it's okay," and "Just you and me, just you and me."
I was relaxing and right when I thought I was okay enough -right when I started to think it was better and I could make it- I heard it. It wasn't much, not even enough to stress over, just a simple comment that I had heard countless times but for some reason it affected me so much right there. Maybe it was because I'd finally come to complete terms with being gay and I was starting to feel safer, Paul being the shield from hate but someone as insignificant as a stranger on the sidewalk could crumble it. Maybe the reason it hurt was because when people at school called me it, I could retaliate or push it off as stupidity. I had the security of knowing that they were just stupid teenagers but this was a grown man.
"Fag."
And I felt hurt, humiliated, completely and utterly terrorized and my throat closing as I tried my best to ignore it a slight shove to my side and a brief mutter underneath the man's breath as he passed with his girlfriend but I just couldn't.
My breathing sped, my eyes getting blurry with unshed tears as Paul looked over, alarmed, eyes only focused on me and free hand coming up to my cheeks he pulled us to the side. We were pressed against a building and all I could feel were eyes filled with hate but Paul didn't care as he caressed my cheek and spoke in hushed tones. He was trying to get my attention but I couldn't stop watching the people behind him, unable to understand why it hurt me so bad and Paul wasn't affected.
It was like I heard things louder than he did, the chatter and whispers that were way too loud about the gay guys holding hands and I felt a tear run down my cheek.
Paul brushed it away, eyes boring into mine when my gaze flickered back to him, "you're okay."
I couldn't tell whether he was just too optimistic or was trying to convince himself because I wasn't okay at all. I felt queasy and disgusting and lower than everyone else especially Paul when he could brush off comments so easily. I was jealous of that, the fact that he wasn't fazed by those who judged him and as much as I admired it, I also hated it because I wanted him to understand. But he didn't understand and I disappointed him again and I was a piece of shit that was in constant need of protection.
That was one of the many things that caused me to rip away from him, my eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to keep everything in and my teeth gnawing on my lip enough that I tasted metal in my mouth. I tried to focus more on leaving rather than the hurt on his face and I croaked out an apology, my body moving before I could think and I felt myself running.
: : :
I didn't notice when I lost Paul or when I passed his apartment building or even when my run turned into a walk but it did and my phone was buzzing constantly in my pocket. I knew I should've answered at least one of his calls but something in me convinced my mind that I wasn't worth the stress he was going through. The weather was bipolar lately, my lips chapped and hands shoved in the pockets of a hoodie that I'd found strewn across the living room. My skin felt dry but maybe that was more so on the fact that I'd been crying nonstop since I'd left Paul.
I cried about everything: I cried about Paul and I even cried about crying so much because I was way too emotional and everything hurt. It was at the point where I just wanted to lay down and be alone; sleep for a few days and health class from the year before had hit me. Exhaustion like this was a sign of depression and the fact that I really didn't care whether or not I was depressed... well, that was the worst part.
I licked my lips, the bleeding long since stopped and I pulled my phone out when it vibrated excessively.
And as much as I felt like a disappointment, I hoped it was Paul.
It wasn't.
I felt my heart sink as I answered, plugging my earbuds in and Benji's voice had filled my ears which was odd considering we hadn't talked since Calum... he hadn't been back to detention and Paul had started picking me up for lunch. I'd gotten brief glances of my friend in math but that was intercepted by boring lessons and the fact that he'd fall asleep every time we got too deep into nothingness.
Still, I was hoping he wasn't sick of me too.
"Where the fuck you at? Paul's been calling all of us; said you disappeared off the edge of the Earth."
I tried to fight off the slight feeling of joy when I realized how frantic he sounded and how much trouble Paul went into for me but that was selfish so I went silent.
Ben must've interpreted that as something else because I heard the shock and confusion in his voice, "Did he do something?"
"What?" Paul couldn't hurt a fly, what the hell would he do to me? He was amazing and too understanding and just plain perfect and he should've been so mad at me not the other way around.
Still, Ben was being vague, emphasizing certain words as if it would make his sentence easier to dissect and comprehend. I hated that about Benji, he always felt the need to make you think instead of just asking straight up, "Did he, you know, do something?"
"What do you mean? Do what?" I wasn't in the mood for mind games or Benji's way of thinking that everyone always knew what he was talking about and he must've noticed the hostility because with a sigh he elaborated.
"He said you looked upset when you left and the only thing I'm thinking that could've happened was he pressured you or hurt you in some way. I hear about this shit on Dr. Phil about oldies taking advantage of teenagers and you know I'll kick his ass if he-"
Take advantage?
"No, shit, no he didn't do anything. He's not a bad guy, Ben." He was far from bad and I wondered how much he told my friends because it sounded as if Benji didn't know about my relationship and I loved that although Paul didn't need to his us from his and my friends, he respected my will to tell them myself. My phone vibrated again and I pulled it back out of my jacket pocket, text messages on my lockscreen and the most recent was from Paul.
'please be safe.'
He cared and that fucked me up so when Benji questioned what had happened again, I couldn't bring myself to continue being by myself. I needed a second opinion or maybe a person to convince me that I wasn't shit.
"Um-" I swallowed, unlocking my phone and scrolling through Paul's messages, the excessive amouth astounding me and I resisted the urge to assure him I was fine. I couldn't lie to him and at that moment, I was a wreck, "can you just come pick me up?"
"You wanna talk or you need a place to crash?"
I couldn't imagine myself having the guts to confront Paul that night so with a sigh, I uttered out a "both," shoving my hands into my pockets with my phone and I heard rustling, a jingle of what I assumed to be keys on Ben's side of the phone.
"On my way."
: : :
"Oh, hell no, you're making this shit right, tonight." Ben had picked me up from God knows where soon after, the asshole forcing me to tell him about what had happened and we were so close to his house when he stopped the car, making a u-turn and heading to Paul's place.
I wanted to strangle the boy beside me, "Benji!"
He wasn't fazed.
"Dude, he probably thinks that you're up for hiding him or that he did something wrong... You gotta talk to him."
I was trying to convince him before we got too far. It would turn into crap and he'd have wasted gas as well as time, "You said I could crash at yours."
He shrugged, "I didn't know the whole story." Still, I sighed, leaning back in my seat. He wouldn't want to talk to me and I had that lingering fear of him shutting the door in my face or telling me to leave or just not wanting to talk to me.
"He's not gonna-"
We were back to same old Benji, his habit for cutting people off coming back into play as he drove carefully, stopping at a red light. I could literally see the oncoming threat and insult to my intelligence brewing in his head, "You say he's not gonna wanna talk to you and I swear to everloving Jesus that I will knock the white, the gay, and the stupid outta you."
I glared but Ben continued, "Probably haven't even called him yet, have you? I am not letting you stress him out about where you're recently developed relationship is going... You haven't even been dating a day and this shit ain't gonna ruin it."
"Ben-"
Still he didn't listen and inside I chuckled, "Ignore that text and I will personally pull over and kill you. And then I'ma drive to the police station and admit to killing you."
"Why you gotta pull over?" I found myself challenging, suppressing my laughter as I started to feel about more open. He was treating me normally and by treating me normally, it gave me confidence that I didn't utterly screw everything up.
"I'm not lookin' to die and if Ma found blood on her seats, I'd be joining you in the afterlife."
And that was when I really laughed, pulling my phone out and unlocking it, starting on a message to Paul. I found myself thinking about how great Paul was and wished my phone -although we had the same model- was the same color as his, wished I was as confident, wished I was content with myself, "Fucking hate you."
"The feeling's mutual."
A/N:
soooo benji's back and baby boy is playing matchmaker, you miss him?
I know I said I wasn't updating for a couple weeks but I had no homework and I completed a concentration piece today only three more portraits to pop out by the end of the week and I'm good.
Updated: Tuesday, Jan 5.