"I love you."
"I love you too," I smiled a little, the static taking nothing away from the feelings of love he sent my way through the phone.
"Goodnight," his mellow voice whispered before hanging up.
No matter how great our phone conversations are, I'm always left feeling a little disappointed after hanging up with him. I could never explain that I wanted to talk to and be around him 24/7 because that'd make me seem more dependent on him than I already felt myself to be.
I looked at the ceiling and sighed. It was funny how much time I had invested towards Bobby and our relationship. The phone call lasted for about three hours, and that was after doing homework for two. Now it was getting late, and I was left feeling exhausted.
Nothing better to do, I hopped off my bed and trudged to the kitchen with fatigue heavy on my shoulders.
The house was eerily quiet, and the lack of sunlight glowing through the windows only added to it. I hated being home alone, and I also still feared the dark on a subconscious level; I was a little wary to walk through the house without light.
I grabbed some yogurt from the fridge and sat at the island, trying to relax. The day was so very long, and I didn't enjoy going through it alone.
It saddened me once I started thinking about Murphy. Is that really what the world was coming to? Me, of all people, thinking about how nice Murphy McCadden was?
You know how sucky the world is, I thought to myself.
Murphy was being too nice that day. It was simple, and yet so complicated. His motives, for example, were unknown, and his sincerity wasn't all that fake. So what was going on? What compelled him to suddenly point his moral compass north?
It was a question I felt would take quite a while to answer.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. Finally, I thought. I watched from the kitchen as my mother walked in the door with more bags than I knew she left with. We're both avid shoppers.
I stood and walked to her saying, "Hey Mom, glad you're home."
"So am I," she said, panting a little, "Who knew San Diego nurses were so strict? Every minute of every day was scheduled for me. It was weird."
As she handed me a few bags to carry up to her room with her, I asked, "How'd you find time to shop, then?"
"A magician never reveals her secrets."
We shared a small laugh that eased the weight of my exhaustion. I was glad she was back. I didn't feel so alone anymore.
We both took the bags up to her room, and while she unpacked, I sat on her bed and watched.
"So how were your days alone?" Mom asked from her walk-in closet that she paid way too much money to remodel.
"They were alright, I guess. Boring," I lied through my teeth. It was really the opposite of "alright" and "boring" in my eyes. But she didn't need to know that.
"You didn't have that boy over, did you?" she called again, her patronizing mother voice making an appearance.
"Nope," I said honestly, "As you can see, the house is still intact."
"Well, I'd love to have him over for dinner sometime. Get to know him."
I chuckled a little too loud before saying, "Mom, you know him. We've been friends for years."
She walked out of her closet with pajamas on and a big smile. "Yes, but now he's your boyfriend. It's a different story."
"He's still the same person," I told her, though on some other level I was convincing myself of the same thing as well.
"I don't know," she sang, "If he was straight before, dating you would require a huge change."
As soon as she said it, I knew she was right. I knew that on more than one level, Bobby had changed a lot. It wasn't just the sudden gayness: he wasn't as much of an asshole anymore (which I didn't think was possible), and he was actually becoming more concerned with others.
The night of the fight—after I had cried and we were settled on the couch—he broke the hour long silence by saying, "I wonder if Megan's doing what you did for me."
I was laying against his chest, so I had to turn to face him as I said, "What?"
"You know," he smirked, "Playing nurse."
"My mom's a nurse, Bobby. I'm not playing nurse," I chuckled and turned around again.
We sat there for a few more seconds before he mumbled, "I hope she's okay. Murphy's an ass, she doesn't deserve that in her life."
After that, I had left it alone. I had thought it was just the situation playing on his soft spot for Megan, but thinking about it, it seemed different. Bobby seemed different. It made sense, since he was constantly surprising me with the things he did.
"Right," I told her, "Huge."
*****
My hand moved at its own accord, creating something my conscious mind couldn't fully comprehend just yet. I was sketching, letting my mind and body go to places I'd never dare venture, creating something I could never do on my own. I needed the hands, the vision, the dream. I was not working alone in creating this sketch.
My entire process was interrupted by a gentle tap on my window. I snapped out of my drawing state and found myself staring at a half-finished sketch of a couple hugging in the rain.
I shook my head, looking towards my window.
It was eerily quiet for a few more seconds before another tap penetrated the silence.
I quickly got up and drew my curtains to see a shadowy figure below my window, throwing pebbles. I looked closer to see a head of shiny golden hair reflecting the light of the half moon in the sky.
Bobby, I thought.
I sighed and opened the window. I hissed at him, "Do you realize how late it is? Why aren't you home?"
I couldn't see the smirk on his face, but I knew it was there.
"I snuck out."
"Obviously," I hissed back, hoping he could see my eye roll from where he was, "Just wait by the door."
I closed my window and hurriedly snuck down the stairs to let Bobby in.
I opened the door for his tall frame, a warm-looking leather jacket hugging his broad shoulders.
"Hey," he smiled at me, which made butterflies magically appear and annoy the shit out of my stomach.
"Hi," I said while approaching him for a hug. He wrapped his arms around me with careful movement, like he knew exactly how to hold me. It made me feel like the most important person in the world.
We ended up in my room, where he sat on my bed and took off his boots. I sat back at my desk and turned my chair to face him. He reclined on my bed before I began talking, "What are you doing here so late?"
"I honestly could not go an entire day without seeing you at least once. I was going crazy. The whole call just wasn't enough."
I picked up my phone and checked the time, which read 11:52.
"You're cutting it kinda close, don't you think?" I joked, showing him the time.
His gaze drifted towards the ceiling, his eyes reflecting the warm light of the light.
"Better late than never."
With that, there was an unspoken vow of silence. He silently observed while I attempted to fall back into my zone.
I took a little more time trying to finish the sketch, detailing the waves of the girl's hair and the way the rain made the boy's pants look. I had apparently zoned out again because Bobby was suddenly behind me verbalizing his thoughts.
"That's beautiful."
I managed to come back to reality after hearing that.
"Is that a word you use now?"
"What are you talking about," his voice lowered along with his chin, almost like I offended him, "I use it all the time."
"No you don't," I chuckled.
"I do when I talk about you," he said softly, his eyes burning through me like a flame on paper.
Pretty soon, his eyes were closed and he was leaning in for a kiss.
Any other time, I'd eagerly close the space between us and let a mind-blowing kiss destroy what little sanity I had left.
But I hesitated.
His eyes fluttered open, the confusion leaking into the features of his face when he realized I wasn't leaning in like usual. "What's wrong?"
I didn't know how to verbalize my feelings, and it made my skin itch with anxiety. He wanted an answer and I didn't know how to give one to him.
Finally after taking a deep breath, I stood up and walked towards my window.
I crossed my arms to guard myself from the emotional blow I was likely to experience before asking, "Why do you love me?"
"What?"
"You heard me."
He sighed and sat himself on the edge of the bed. "What kind of fucking question is that? Haven't I shown you?"
"Of course you have. But what you've also shown me is more and more confusion. I want to know what's going through your head, because it's getting harder and harder to decipher," I rambled quickly, so fast that I had a moment of doubting whether or not he heard what I said.
He apparently did, though, "When did you start feeling that way?"
"When you almost kissed me in the art room."
He just looked at me, almost like he was in two places at once: in the room with me, and in the art room.
Was he the same person in both places?
"What's confusing you?" Bobby spoke softly, his hands clasped at his mouth.
"I feel like you've changed. I don't want to think that you have, but it's becoming clearer by the day. You've changed, and I don't know if it's for better or worse."
"Why would it be worse? I love you, I've changed for you, I stayed for you—"
"No you didn't," I cut him off.
He sighed shakily and rubbed his hand on his face. "Is that what this is about? Megan?"
"Yes. Your feelings for her changed so quickly, it makes absolutely no sense, Bobby," I spoke with a little more force, and I didn't even realize I was pacing up until this point. This was my first time verbalizing my thoughts on this subject, and it left me with racing blood and incoming tears.
"It makes no sense? I of all people would know that!" Bobby hissed as he stood, "I turned gay for my best friend, how do you think that makes me feel?"
"I don't know! That's why I'm asking!" I retaliated, and I stepped closer to him. It was hard to get my point across without yelling and waking my mother.
He started to say something, but he stopped himself. He turned around and faced my door, taking a deep breath. It was obvious I was making him mad, but I didn't know why. Either way, I couldn't keep my mouth shut any longer without losing my mind.
Finally he turned, "Do you want to know why I was so silent that day at Universal?"
"If it'll answer my question," I snapped, instantly regretting it.
I could tell he chose to ignore it, and he continued, "I was quiet because all I could think about was you. How you looked that day. What you were thinking, where we could go so I could just kiss you. And it scared the shit out of me. I was realizing just how big of a part you played in my life, and it scared me how colossal that part was. You made me rethink my entire life. Hell, being around all of those kids, I couldn't help but think what life would be like if I were gay and I didn't have a wife, or kids. You've changed me, Caleb. Your constant faith in me and the love you had for me despite all the shit I did. So if you're worried about change, it isn't anyone's fault but your own."
His words struck a chord within my heart. I didn't know how to react.
We stood there in silence for a moment, and the only reason I said anything was because he raised an eyebrow, expecting an answer.
"I'm just scared," I said a little more calmly, "It was a big change, yes, but a fast one. I'm scared that you'll end up falling for someone else just as quickly and leaving me like you did to Megan."
"Maybe if I went back to her, I wouldn't have to deal with this shit," he mumbled to himself almost incoherently.
That ruptured the dam behind my eyes.
Silent tears slipped past my eyelids, and I couldn't do anything but stare at him.
He turned to look at me and his face changed almost immediately. "Babe, I. . . I'm sorry—"
"Get out," I croaked, my throat closing up.
"Caleb—"
"Get out. It's past midnight. I have school tomorrow."
"I didn't mean—"
"Get out!" I hissed, wary of my mother sleeping in her room. Regardless, my voice was very forceful.
He gazed at me with sad eyes, and he swallowed before grabbing his boots and slipping out of my room without a sound.
Without even thinking, I fell to the floor crying.
And that's where I fell asleep.