0.23 - Sunday 3:24 p.m.
Rhys Wyer
We last for two weeks. But I have to admit, those two weeks were heavenly.
Or at least, as heavenly as it could be while trying to keep us a secret from Beverly along with the rest of the world.
We never talked during school. During breaks, we never stood in the same circles. At lunch, we sat at opposite ends of the table. If Beverly was around, I would sometimes go so far as to glare at Mav. The first time I did that, I caught Beverly smirking triumphantly, and wasn't that hilarious. We even went to different parties on Fridays and Saturdays.
Then after school we'd switch off taking Ubers to each other's houses, just in case Beverly wanted to stop by and check for my Range Rover in Mav's driveway. On the weekends, we did the same thing, except occasionally we went to the river (arriving at different times) or some other, obscure, public place that we knew Beverly would never set foot in.
Although the paranoia of Beverly watching us slowly crept in on me, we still had fun. My favorite times were when I slept over at Mav's house on Friday or Saturday night, and we'd wake up in each other's arms the next morning with the knowledge that Mav's workaholic parents and sister were not at home. The first time it happened, Mav suggested casually that we should take a shower.
I didn't realize what he meant until he stopped at the bathroom door, very naked and very smug, and asked if I was coming, pun very much intended.
"Your puns are terrible," I had said, but I shimmied out of my pajamas anyways, following him to the shower. And then to my absolute surprise, Mav actually started washing my hair.
"I love your hair," Mav had murmured, his lips brushing my neck, before he pressed the length of his body against my back. His left hand, secure in the strands of my hair, tilted my head so he could trail hot kisses down my neck, while his right hand slid over my stomach, gliding lower and lower.
And then Mav had turned me around, pressed me up against the wall, and promptly dropped to his knees.
Yes, those were good times.
Sometimes, though, it felt like my past was catching up with me, like I had been running as fast as the wind and then the wind had started to slow down.
After half-assing our homework, things would get a little heated. Clothes would come off and drop off the side of the bed, hands would wander, skin hot and slick. And then one day, Mav broke away, breathing heavily.
"You know you could always try anything you want, right?" he had asked. My hands froze on their path down his back. Beverly in her room without a shirt on flashed through my mind. What are you waiting for?
I knew that Mav wanted to have sex. Of course. He's a teenage boy. And I wanted to have sex too. This was different than Beverly.
With Beverly, I couldn't stand the thought of having sex with her. With Mav, I wanted to have sex with him so badly that it never felt like the right time.
"I know," I had told him, faking a smile, before I wrapped a hand around his dick and kissed him so he would momentarily forget he ever said anything.
I knew I had nothing to worry about. Mav would never pressure me into sex, not consciously at least. But I could sense his restlessness. I knew it was only a matter of time before he brought the subject up.
"So, I was just wondering," Mav had said one night after a particularly heavy hook up in his bedroom, "if you have ever thought about sex."
I raised an eyebrow. Of course I've thought about sex.
"Well, gay sex," Mav clarified, and my breath caught in my throat.
"Gay sex?" I teased, hoping the redness on my cheeks wasn't that noticeable.
Mav rolled his eyes. "Okay, sex with a guy."
"You mean sex with you." There was no point trying to talk around it. Mav flushed, and he smiled hesitantly.
"Well, yes."
I shifted under the bed sheets so I was lying face up on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Mav had gone quite still next to me, as if he was worried his movement would scare me.
"I have wondered," I said, picking at a nonexistent thread on the sheets, "who would be on top first, and how it would feel."
"Me too," Mav said, his voice coming out a little breathless. I could tell then that he was much more prepared for sex than I was. Considering I was still a virgin and he was not, this wasn't that surprising.
"Do you think the pain is really that bad?" I asked, even though I really don't want to talk about it, like feeding wood to a fire because you're sort of fascinated by the flames, even knowing you might get burned.
"Not too much if you do it right," Mav said. I glanced at him, and he grinned. "I've done some research." I smile back, while my stomach turns uneasily. I feel like I'm two steps behind Mav, but pretending we're running side by side.
But it was okay. We were okay. I was still a few paces ahead of my demons and as long as Beverly stayed quiet, Mav and I could continue living in this paradise of secret kisses and stolen moments.
Maybe that's why the end came as such a shock. I was so sure my demons were behind me that I forgot to check in front.
***
Beverly had told me Saturday night. I was at Sophie's house, where she was hosting a party. Mav had gone to a Summerfield party, and we planned to meet at my house afterwards.
I was sober because I brought my car, and Beverly was very drunk. She teetered over to me late in the night as I was talking with Tristan, the only person who felt comfortable talking to me.
"Rhys, I need to talk with you," Beverly had said in a dramatic stage-whisper. She had a vicious smile on her face, and a chill ran down my spine.
"I'll leave you guys to it, then," Tristan had said, glancing to Beverly with a concerned look, before slinking away. I wanted to shout after him that this wasn't what it looked like, but I didn't want to make a scene or upset Beverly.
"Come on, Rhys," Beverly said, pulling my arm and dragging me upstairs. "Don't be a fag." I tensed up, and looked around frantically, but no one had been close enough to hear. With my heart hammering in my chest, I followed Beverly up the stairs.
"You're really drunk, Beverly," I said, hoping that she would change her mind and decide to confront me another day. No such luck. We entered into someone's bedroom.
"Jealous? Should have let your boyfriend drive you here then," she said, her words slowing down on the word boyfriend. I flinch, and she smirks.
"I don't have a boyfriend," I said, trying to calm my breathing. My head felt light and the edges of my vision were fuzzy.
"You've always been bad at lying, Rhys, and you're worse at keeping your end of the deal," Beverly said.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, trying not to sound frantic. Beverly shook her head mockingly.
"Always in denial." Beverly crossed her arms. "This is your last chance. If you don't end it with Maverick by tomorrow, everyone will know your big, gay secret by Monday morning."
"Please, Beverly," I had said, about to get on my knees and beg. "Don't do this―"
She held up a hand, and I went quiet. Her eyes narrowed. "You won't change my mind. Don't bother trying." Beverly walked towards the door.
"Wait," I said, my voice strained. Beverly paused. "How did you know we were still seeing each other?"
Beverly stared at me in disbelief, then in disgust, her lips curling down at the edges. "You guys are so in love with each other, anyone can see it from miles away."
Then she left the room, slamming the door shut behind her.
***
I still went back to my house and let Mav inside. I still went on my knees and sucked him off. I acted like everything was fine, and let my mouth do the talking. Because what was one more night? Beverly wouldn't know, and I'd break up with him the next day.
Today. Right now.
Mav stares at me, his shirt limp in his hands. "What?" His voice sounds small.
"We're done," I say, ignoring the sharp pain in my chest. I think back to Beverly's face, the cruelty in her eyes. "I can't...we have to stop seeing each other. Doing this."
For a moment, Mav looks lost, like he stepped into his house but another family was living there. Then his mouth settles into a hard line, and I see him place invisible armor around himself. "Why?"
Somehow, I forgot to prepare myself for what happens after your break it off with someone. Beverly didn't ask too many questions. Maybe that was because she already knew the answers.
"It's not gonna work," I say, mentally pleading with Mav to just leave. Mav's hands grip his shirt tightly, knuckles going pink, then white.
"I don't get you," Mav says. Suddenly he's striding over to me and I barely make a half step backwards before his fingers grab my chin, forcing my gaze up to his face. "Tell me the reason. To my face. We were fine these past few weeks. Not fine, great. And last night. Tell me what changed."
I don't want to squirm in his grip, so I gently grab his wrist. Mav flinches, and that hurts more than anything else. "Please, Mav, stop. I don't know what changed. I just can't do this anymore."
Mav drops his hand and turns away, pulling on his shirt in jerky, awkward motions. He's trying to hold himself together.
"You know I thought―" Mav's voice cracks, and his shoulders slump, "I'm in love with you, Rhys. And I thought you were too."
I freeze.
I'm in love with you, Rhys.
You guys are so in love with each other, anyone can see it from miles away.
Am I in love? Is this what love feels like? Running and running and never knowing if your next step will be on the ground or thin air?
If this is what love feels like, I want nothing to do with it.
Mav turns around, studying my face. I shrug, even though I feel close to tears.
"I guess I was wrong," Mav says coldly, before he brushes past me and out the door.
It's only when I hear the front door shut downstairs do the tears start to fall.