I didn't believe it. He proposed his love to me. I liked him as my buddy but I wasn't gay. That was understandable right? I just didn't see him that way. I watched the fire, kinda hoping it would give me an answer. Something I couldn't grasp. Something, anything. Maybe I wanted to see what he had seen earlier in that moment where he just sat there and laughed like a madman. I didn't understand it. Why me? Why did my best friend have to be gay for me? I would've supported him if it was anyone else. Hell I didn't even know he was gay. My best goddamn gay friend. I always had poked fun at him for spending time with Miss Clarice, our school nurse and how he had spent time with her in horizontal position if you catch my drift. I just thought it to myself these days, like when he went to her office yesterday. He always said there was nothing going on and maybe that was the truth. I didn't fucking know he was like that.
And then I suddenly realized it. The thing he had laughed at. Despair. Insanity. Plain out madness. It wasn't special or anything. It was just existant and that was enough. Madness existing was enough for people to notice it. It was almost comedic. I grinned as it took me into its embrace. It was soothing almost. I wanted to take its hug and squeeze it in my arms when suddenly I heard a zip behind me, Patrick slowly stepping out the tent. I had turned around and just stared at him, his existence somehow pulling me back to my senses. He saw it fading in my eyes. I could see it from his facial expression. Worry for me became small joy in his. I could read him like a book even as I only slowly regained control over myself. He slowly walked up to me and said: "Can we go home?" "I just got up and replied with: "Pack your stuff."
And so we did it, packed away our tent, sleeping bags and our backpacks before throwing it all into the trunk of the car and getting in our seats again, me in the driver and him in the passenger. We just sat there, quietly, as I started the engine back up and drove us down the mountain in the warm, sorta orange-red sunset that was setting, illuminating the road ahead of us only slightly so I had to turn on the lights to make them out. It was sorta like that one Vine. "Two dudes chilling in the hot tub, 5 feet apart cause they're not gay." That's how distant I suddenly felt to him. It was something I had never felt before. I glanced over at him. He just stared at the road ahead of us, eyes deadset and staring down the now illuminated part of the road. "Patrick?" I wanted to see how he was doing. No response. Just that cold staring. It was sorta eerie but also just plain out weird, even coming from a kooky guy like him. "Patrick tell me if you're okay." My words were blurted out but still audible. He could have said something. Anything and I would've been fine with that but he said nothing. Not a single tone. I drove us back into town and he still didn't make a single sound. Not even his breathing sounded like it was there. I dropped him off at his house, driving the car back into our garage and going inside. Both my parents didn't say anything at me coming home a day early. I just went to my room and thought about all of what happened this day. I was exhausted in a way but not tired. I just didn't know what to think. He kissed me. He just kissed me. I took out my phone and looked at the time. 11:38 pm. I didn't pull it away yet as it snapped to a 9, my fingers slowly unlocking it as I began weakly typing. "Hey Patrick." Almost an immediate answer. "Hey." "Wanna pretend like today never happened?" I didn't know what else to say. After a few seconds there wasn't a respond. I stared at the screen. Minutes passed as I stared at the screen. That goddamn screen taunting me. I looked at it, my eyes tired but kept steady, waiting for an answer. Anything to sorta keep me away from these thoughts.
I wasn't gay. I wasn't enjoying that kiss. But I could tell he did. He did like it as if my lips gave away life. Like he needed it to survive. As if it was keeping him from becoming mad. A mad man in a sane world. I could've pushed him. I could've. I didn't though. I felt the passion behind the kiss. I felt all his sadness and anger fading. I felt him be at peace. I just let it happen. I cared for him, I really did. I could've pushed him. But I didn't. I just wanted him to be good. I wanted him to be alright. I wanted to, well, fix him. I wanted him to be at peace with his mind.
I couldn't force my eyes open any longer at around 1:20 or something. (I couldn't exactly make out the real number but it was around there somewhere.) I passed out into an unresting slumber, waking up just as exhausted in consequence. I picked up my phone and looked at the messages. Patrick had replied with a simple "Ok." at 4:32. Had he really stayed up so late? I was really worried that he might do something stupid after all of that. It just seemed like he was unstable. The maniacal laughing didn't really help with that either, only increasing my worries more. Kinda like a balloon except not really. I replied with a "Are you okay?" because I was pretty worried and he was my best friend afterall. An immediate answer again. "Yes." I didn't really belive him but if he didn't wanna talk about it I wasn't gonna force this onto him.
The next Monday he wasn't there.
I am not an overly protective person. I never try to be but it wasn't usual that Patrick wasn't there. He rarely got sick but even then he always notified me. I went to his house right after school and his mom opened up the door. "Hey is Patrick sick?" "Yeah, he's throwing up. Quite a lot actually." I could tell it wasn't just that. His mom had that unsteady sound in her voice just like him when he wasn't telling the whole truth. It was something I had picked up over the years with his family. "Miss, what does he really have?" I insisted because I knew she was hiding something. "He's just throwing up. He'll be back in school in no time." With that she slammed the door shut right in front of me. Because that didn't seem suspicious. I couldn't do jack about it though so I went home and messaged him. "Patrick." No answer. "Patrick." Again. "Patrick." "Yes?" "Are you throwing up?" "Yeah, don't worry about it." "Throwing up is the universal sign of your body that something's wrong." "Well yeah but..." "Patrick." "Nick." "Are you depressed that I didn't feel the same?" No answer. "Patrick." No answer. "Patrick." No answer. I knew he was troubled but I didn't know how to help him if he didn't let me.
It just bothered me you know. We were such good friends and I knew he could do something stupid any minute even though he always saw me as immature and never wanted to admit he was wrong. He was stubborn, maybe a bit too much for his own good and it made me sad that I couldn't help him. He always was there for me, no matter how down I felt, he did his best to satisfy me, to make me feel better and I couldn't help him at all. He bottled up stuff and got impulsive, maybe even reckless and he didn't take others help. He kept on saying that he didn't wanna be a bother. He was no bother. He was my friend but he didn't let me help him. He was too stubborn and I could do exactly 0 things about it.
I suddenly had a thought some would describe as insane or mad but it was worth my shot.
"Okay Patrick."
"Here's my suggestion."
"We try to be together but if it doesn't work out, we still are best friends. Nothing will change. We'll just be us."
No answer.
"If you want to try, meet me tomorrow in school you "sicko"."
---
The next morning I saw him leave the house, his gaze towards the sky. It was pretty normal for him to stare off into the distance, avoiding any unnecessary eye contact. He just wasn't one for that sort of stuff but that was just how he was. Weird in his own way like most teens. I know, I know. Dumb shit us millenials say because we have so many choices to be anything we want to be, acting like society didn't care for us enough with all of the love and shit our parents throw at us. Consumerism at its finest. I liked it, sure. After all, getting what you want at most times is pretty nice.
Anyway, there he was. He just slopped down the side of the road, kicking some pebbles along the way. I saw him from my room before I darted down the stairs, grabbing my bag hastily before practically jumping out the house.
"Wait up Patrick!" I yelled behind him as he continued to slop away, seemingly not even noticing me. He usually did notice me even if only a tiny bit and that sorta worried me. He just hadn't been himself after that night. I darted past him and stood in his way but he continued walking, gently bumping into me. "Sorry..." He said as he slopped past me, his eyes all glass-like as if he hadn't slept for quite some time. He probably didn't sleep any amount, not even small naps. He didn't like sleeping during the day so he didn't sleep then either. "Patrick, we gotta talk." "Let's just do as you said before yesterday. Pretend it never happened. It was stupid and I'm sorry. Let's just go to school." He walked next to me but was awfully silent. If you knew his usual thinking silence then this would've been awfully silent but if you didn't then this seemed like any other silence.
In reality it was long and draining, even for his normal standards. Something obviously was wrong but what was I to do if he didn't wanna talk? I couldn't force him obviously. I sighed out, knowing he wouldn't even notice even that I did.
Godfucking dammit.... I clenched my fist, unsure what to do because it felt like I needed to say something, anything. That's what friends do. I just didn't know what. It was so frustrating. Feeling like there was something I had to do, barely out of reach, nearly in view and yet I was nowhere near it. I sighed again, knowing that right now something I didn't know might have helped and no matter what I wanted to try it wouldn't have helped. Godfucking dammit.
"So, how was the extensive weekend for you? Everyone was sort of worrying since you never missed school without atleast telling me something or bringing in a doctor's notice with me." "Ah don't worry about this stuff this much. I just didn't feel well yesterday." "Oh come on. You know there's more to it than that." "Shut up Nicholas." He didn't call me Nicholas ever. Literally never. Something was different. Something was wrong. "You know, if you need to talk I'm here." I walked ahead of him now as he let himself sink back from me. He took a deep breath and I heard it, turning around as he chuckled at me, a smile upon his lips. Those lips that kissed me just a few days ago. "I know that." "Well....atleast you're smiling." I began walking, an eerie feeling crawling up my back as I walked in front of him. We both were quiet after that, arriving at school just a little too late. Our teacher asked why I was late and the classroom was full of whispering until I felt that chill creep behind me again. He was here and all of the people went silent, even our teacher. He didn't ask anything of me anymore and I was off the hook. He didn't say anything to Patrick either as he just walked towards his spot next to me and next to the window. I saw eyes turning towards him, glaring at him though not directly since they probably expected him to explode at any second and his lifeless eyes as he sat down didn't suggest much less as he opened up his small block of paper for notices and began writing on it. I couldn't see what he was writing but he immersed in it even more than he normally did.