"Hey, you brought the car. Good job."
I rolled my eyes. "What else was I supposed to pick you up in, a carriage?"
Jani climbed into the passenger seat of Romeo's car. "I figured that you were disoriented enough to somehow get here without a car."
We were going to a party together because Jani wanted to, and she didn't trust anyone else to drive her home. She asked me to drive so she could drink, and I had asked Romeo if I should say no. He had told me to go have fun because he was taking a late shift tonight, so here I was.
"The amount of faith you have in me really makes me feel good sometimes," I said as I looked behind us to back out of the parking space. "So, where are we going?"
Jani buckled her seatbelt. "I'll give you directions. Take a left out of this lot." A pause. "Yeah. And just keep going down this road. It'll take a while because of traffic this time of day."
"How long is 'a while'?" I asked.
"I don't know. Depends. Graham, we should talk about everything."
I nodded in reluctant agreement. My conversation with Romeo had been a few days ago, and we were doing better, but we couldn't untangle anything further until I figured out my relationship with Jani. So, we were doing this now. I guess it was good because the sooner we sorted everything, the better I'd feel.
"What are we doing?" Jani asked.
Good question.
"I honestly couldn't tell you," I said. "Are you as confused as I am?"
"I'm confused as to how you're feeling," Jani replied, "which is weird because you express your emotions very well. A little too well. But right now, I'm kinda lost. Take a right up ahead."
"Oh, I'm very lost too," I assured her. "I thought I was figuring life out, but nothing can be that easy."
"You don't like me," Jani said. "I've figured out that much."
"I don't?"
Jani shook her head. "You don't, and you're leading me on. Not on purpose, I think. But come on, you're so in love with Romeo."
"I am?"
Jani smiled a little. "Aren't you?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "Maybe I didn't want to be. I wanted to want to be with you."
"I wanted you to want to too." She laughed. "Did that make sense? It made sense in my head before I said it."
"I guess. Are you mad at me?"
Jani nodded. "I heard this beautiful line once. Yeah. I'm furious, but I'm in love."
"I feel that," I told her. "But not towards you."
"I know."
The seconds of silence that followed were simultaneously relieving and agonizing.
Jani probably just wanted a good boyfriend, I realized. Instead, she accidentally signed up to put up with my shit. And she knew, but she had politely kept her mouth shut up until now.
"I'm sorry."
"I know," she repeated. "First building past this intersection."
I parked, and neither of us made any move to get out of the car. We sat there, alternating between sneaking glances at each other and looking away. Finally, we accidentally made eye contact, and we held it.
"Can I touch you?" Jani asked.
"What?"
"Can I put my hands on your body?"
There was something downright comical about everything that was going on, and it made me burst out laughing.
"Yeah," I said. "Go for it."
It wasn't like this was a new thing that she had never done before, but this time, it felt invasive to have her hands running around my shoulders and down my arms across my chest. Then, she lifted my shirt, and my eyes widened at the skin to skin contact.
"I'm going to kiss you now," Jani said.
I nodded.
Even before our lips touched, I knew that she was right. My heart was pounding, but it wasn't because of her. I grabbed fistfuls of her shirt, imagining myself gripping onto this reality that I had tried so hard to reject.
We broke apart when we started crying. I wasn't sure who was first, but suddenly, there were tears on both of our faces.
Jani wiped her cheeks with her shirt. "So?"
"I'm sorry." It was all I could offer her.
"Don't apologize."
She deserved so much more than an apology.
"You need to talk to him," Jani told me.
But clarity was within reach now.
"Yeah," I agreed.
It was going to be fine. Finally.
"So here's what's gonna happen," she said. "I'm gonna find a group of girls to pep talk me while I complain about you and get drunk, and then I'll find a few strangers to make out with. In about two hours, you grab me, probably against my will, and drag me out."
"That's fair."
Jani shrugged. "Not really. But nothing ever is."
Jani led me inside the building, and I followed her to an apartment that had its door propped open with a crushed soda can. We went our separate ways, and I was alone. It reminded me of when Shawna used to take me to parties and leave me by the door.
I wandered through the apartment, remembering my days as a party person. My first few parties, I didn't drink at all. I didn't want to go home and have my mom find out; although, she must have known what happened at parties. Eventually, I stopped caring and headed straight for the drinks as soon as I walked in the door. Then, it was easier to talk to people and ignore Romeo whenever I happened to see him.
I spotted a boy sulking in the corner, studying the room. He seemed like my type of party-goer, so I joined him.
"What're you in for?" he asked.
"Just broke up with my ex," I said. "Again. You?"
He shrugged. "I got stuck being the designated driver again. Perks of being the only good kid in the friend group. So now I have to stand here and wait for someone to throw up before taking all of them home." "Sounds wonderful."
"It's really not," the kid assured me. "Okay, wait. What do you mean you broke up with your ex again?"
"Long story."
The boy looked up at me. "Unless you've got anything better to do, we've got time."
So, I told him everything. It was the first time I could talk about my story with all the dots connected, and as I talked, I realized things that I hadn't seen before. I told the stranger about meeting Romeo when we were kids and becoming close friends with him. I talked about how one day, he stopped talking to me and how I had to avoid him for the next three years to avoid an awkward confrontation. I told him about dating Jani to tape up the tear in my heart and breaking up with her when the summer ended. Then, I retold how the reunion between me and Romeo that brought us thousands of miles from home, how I remet Jani, and how we were sort of dating until we got to this party.
At the end of the story, the first thing the kid said was, "oh, yeah, I saw you guys making out in a car."
I wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he moved on to his next piece of commentary.
"So you had no idea you were in love with this one guy for, like, forty years?"
I scowled at him. "I'm not that old. More like four years. I was kind of ignorant when it came to feelings towards him."
The kid rolled his eyes. "Clearly. Why haven't you said anything to him?"
"I didn't think I had to," I explained. "Before we stopped talking, I made it very clear that I liked him. I thought he liked me too, but I guess not. Even in the past month, I was dropping very obvious hints until my ex came into the picture."
"Maybe he isn't ready," the boy guessed.
"Still?"
"I don't know."
"I hope he'll be ready to talk about it tonight," I said. "When I get home, I'm going to tell him exactly how I feel, and I'm going to ask whether he feels the same way."
"I can't believe you've been through all that trouble when you could be celebrating your fourth anniversary this year."
I laughed. "Trust me, if you knew us, you'd realize that this is very on-brand for us."
"You know what else is on-brand? The fact that his name is Romeo. Y'know how Romeo and Juliet, in the play, they spend the entire time dancing around an issue that could have been solved if everyone sat down for a nice talk? Kind of reminds me of that. Also, your best friend died, just like in the play, so I'm not sure what that means for your future."
This was some outsider insight that I didn't ask for.
"Who even are you?"
"Hopefully the nurse," the boy said. "She's my favorite. Realistically, though, probably the chorus who spoils the entire story like a badly edited trailer. Oh, you mean my name? It's Chai."
"Like the drink?"
He nodded. "Yeah, heard that one before. What's yours?"
"Graham."
"Like the cracker?"
I nodded too.
"Wow, aren't we a match made in heaven," he joked. "But not really, because it sounds like you already belong to someone else."
Yeah. Romeo had my heart.
"He's actually writing a book about it," I said. "Romeo, I mean. I haven't read any of it, but it's supposedly about this entire adventure. Should I tell him that he basically rewrote a story that's already been rewritten thousands of times?"
"It's not the same story if it ends differently," Chai pointed out.
"You say a lot of smart things, and you make me feel dumb," I told him.
"Because you are," he said. "I'm not smart, though. I just say things and hope that they make sense to somebody."
"You're, like, twelve. What are you doing here?"
"Sixteen," he corrected. "Kids these days are wild."
"I'm pretty sure you're not real," I said.
His eyes lit up. "Oh, existentialism's a fun one."
"Say we go there for a second. What's your take on human existence?"
Chai grinned. "Probably that love is dead and we're all doomed. Or that life is like a card game that we all have a place in and there's a plan for everyone. Depends on the day. But you don't have to listen to me. Who am I to determine your worth?"
"I would be willing to hand over my life to you because I've done a pretty shitty job with it."
Chai shook his head. "Nah, you're doing just fine."
"Do you have conversations like this all the time?" I asked him.
"You mean with people who struggle to confront their feelings? Not really. My friends are stupid."
"Your wisdom gives me a headache."
"Well, it sounds like you gave yourself a hell of a heartache," Chai argued, "so you can go ahead and suck it up. Although, I can tell that you'd much rather suck his dick."
I was blushing; I had to be. "You know, I could have gone my whole life without hearing that sentence, and I would have been totally okay."
Chai put his hands up. "Hey, I only speak the truth. Seriously, though, good luck with your whole situation. Something will turn out okay."
"Something?"
"If you hope for everything, you're gonna be sorely disappointed."
He seemed like the type of person who thought a lot. I wondered if he ever got tired of thinking, just like how I sometimes got tired of feeling.
"Alright. Thanks."
"No problem. Actually, a lot of problems. But they're all yours." Chai fished his phone out of his pocket and opened it. "Sorry, I've gotta go. There's a pile of puke calling my name. You good?"
"Yeah," I said. "I will be."
I stood there, alone again, savoring the last few notes of companionship. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jani talking to another guy.
I wondered where Romeo was right now. His shift had probably just ended. He should be on his way back to the apartment. He'd definitely be there by the time I took Jani home. I pictured him sitting on the sofa, mindlessly flipping through TV channels. When I got there, he'd hear the door open, and he'd look up and grin at me.
Hey, did you have fun? he'd ask.
What would I do next? Would I answer his question, build a conversation, and work my way to what I really needed to tell him? Or should I lead with that? Or maybe I should march over to him and kiss him like I should have forever ago. He might get the message that way.
"I'm ready to go home."
I looked up, and Jani was standing in front of me. Her makeup was smudged and her eyes were swollen, but she didn't appear particularly sad. Just extremely worn out.
"You wanna go now?" She nodded.
So we left. Jani was quiet on the drive back, which meant that I had to guess where to turn. I went in a few different circles before finally locating Jani's apartment. I parked the car so that I could get out and make sure she got inside safely. I followed her inside, up a flight of stairs, and to her room. We were standing in front of her door before Jani spoke up.
"Are you gonna stop talking to me?"
I frowned. "Of course not. Why would I do that?"
"You might be one of those petty people who can't be friends with exes."
I shook my head. "It's really up to you. I would love to stay friends."
"Not more than friends, though," she said.
I didn't answer. I hated saying no to people.
"You're about to apologize again." Jani crossed her arms. "Stop that. You don't have to say sorry."
But I was. "Are you gonna be okay?"
Jani shrugged. "I dunno. Probably. You can go now. I can take care of myself."
"Are you sure?"
She scowled. "Yeah. Anything else I can help you with?"
"No," I said. "You've been the best. Thank you for everything."
"And you're the fucking worst." She hooked her arms around my neck, and I thought she was going to kiss me, but all she did was hug me.
"I wish I could have been better to you," I told her. "But there's no second chance here, is there?" "I'd rather not do this a third time," Jani replied. "It never gets easier, even if it's the same person every time. It was always you."
If I didn't know that she was hurting, I would have been flattered. This was such a mess, and it was my fault.
"I'm gonna go," I said, but I was really asking for permission.
Jani nodded slowly. "You should. If you try to reach me in the foreseeable future and I don't answer, I'm probably crying."
She was right. Nothing was ever fair.
I had to leave when I couldn't take it anymore. The sadness made the air so heavy that it was difficult to breathe. I had to get out before I passed out. I made sure Jani went inside her apartment before I ran outside and gulped down some disgusting humid air. My legs were weak, and my heart was threatening to explode.
This is your fault, Romeo, I thought. This is what you've done to me. Damnit, look what you've done to me.
Just when I was getting into his car, he texted me.
I wondered if I had somehow willed it to happen.
Call me.
I didn't hesitate.
The dial tone stretched on for an eternity. While I waited, I put the call on speaker and started heading home. I wondered what could be so important that Romeo couldn't wait until we were both home to tell me. Maybe he wanted to see if I was staying the night somewhere else.
When the call went through, the voice that answered wasn't one I recognized.
"Hello, is this Graham?"
"Yes?" I said hesitantly. "Is Romeo there?"
"Yes, he's right here," the voice replied. "He can't talk right now, but he wants you to know that he made it to the ER and that he's okay."
"What happened? Is he hurt? How badly?"
"There was an accident," the voice said patiently. "I'm afraid that's all I can tell you."
Panic flooded my brain. Accident? Wasn't he supposed to take the bus home?
"Where are you? Where is he?" I had to pull over. My hands were shaking so hard that I expected them to fall off.
I was asked for my location and given directions.
A few seconds after I hung up, I got another text from Romeo.
Sorry if that freaked you out. I just wanted to hear your voice.
I'm on my way, I texted back. Stay right there.
Right, because I have the ability to move right now. I could go run a marathon with all this mobility that I haven't lost.
I laughed out loud to release some of my nerves. I wasn't sure how badly he was hurt, but at least his brain worked. To drown out my questions, I turned on the radio. When I had regained control of my hands, I started heading towards the emergency room.
This felt like another big change that I wasn't ready for. These had been happening often recently, and each event was a reminder that everything ended, in the grand scheme of time, abruptly. When I had been imagining outcomes of tonight, this wasn't a possibility. Romeo getting into a car wreck had not been on the agenda.
I drove slowly because I couldn't risk getting pulled over. Speeding would be such a dumb and ironic reason to slow me down from getting to Romeo.
It took ten minutes to get there. I parked carefully, and as soon as I got out of the car, I was running. I needed to make sure that Romeo was okay. I hadn't run this hard since taking the pacer test in elementary school.
I made it inside, and the receptionist was the first person that I had to get past. She watched disinterestedly as I caught my breath.
"Is he here?" I asked when I could. "I need—" "Are you a family member?" she interrupted.
"No, but I'm the only one—"
"I'll take your name," she cut me off again. "Someone will come get you when you can go in. Who are you here for?"
"Romeo Zaveri." I didn't want his name to be hard to say again like it used to be.
The receptionist typed something on her keyboard. "He just got here, right? The system is still processing his file. I'll let you know when we get more information. What's your name?"
"Graham Day. Why can't I—"
"Have a seat, dear."
Defeated and deflated, I trudged to the waiting room. It was empty. I picked out the most comfortable-looking chair, and as soon as I sat down, I texted Romeo.
They won't let me in.
His reply was quick, and I felt the tiniest bit of relief. You don't want to see me right now.
I do.
I'm here, he said. Not too far away.
What happened? I asked.
I had to wait a few minutes for his next text.
Took a taxi instead of the bus. Ironically, got into a wreck with a bus. Pretty sure the inside of my body is crushed. Can't really breathe.
He rarely made typos while texting, and that was true even now.
I'll wait, I said. They can't make me leave.
I thought that would be the end of the conversation, but Romeo had more to say.
Read this if you want to stay.
A few seconds later, I got a text file attachment.
I downloaded it, and a document popped up. I scanned the first few lines and realized that this must be Romeo's book.
Better now than never, he texted. Excuse the grammar. Let me know when you finish.
I wasted no time in starting. I read pretty quickly because this was a story that I knew well. There were two main characters, obviously meant to represent me and Romeo. It began with them meeting up after years of not talking and spontaneously deciding to leave town together.
All the conversations that the characters had were familiar, similar to ones that Romeo and I had shared. There were flashback scenes woven into the story, revealing pieces of background information that explained current events. I was impressed by how much of the past month that he had managed to document.
Around halfway through, over half an hour into reading, I suddenly realized that this book was from my point of view. No wonder it was all so familiar. This was my story.
I skimmed the last few paragraphs that I had just read. My feelings had been described so accurately that I hadn't thought twice. He could have figured out most of it on his own, but he had to have gotten some of it from my diary. Probably while I was out on my walks. That little shit.
The part where we found out about Shawna's death was a reminder that the wound was fresher than I wanted it to be. I wanted to think of it as a scar that didn't hurt anymore. I wasn't there yet.
Jani was in the story too, and the accuracy of her character was completely there. Romeo had written about running into her at the grocery store and going on a date with her. But that was where the accuracy ended.
In the story, there were more dates with Jani. I began seeing more of her and less of Romeo. Some nights, I didn't even come home because I stayed at Jani's place. Realistically, if tonight hadn't happened, all of this would have been on our timeline.
Then, there was a scene that definitely hadn't happened in real life. It took place on a morning after I had just gotten home from Jani's apartment. I opened the door, expecting our apartment to be empty, but Romeo was waiting for me. He said the words that no one would ever want to hear.
"We need to talk."
We sat down on the couch, and he proceeded to launch into a monologue that seemed way too carefully put together to be improvised. As I read it, I imagined Romeo sitting next to me, saying these words.
"There's so much I want you to know, I'm not sure where to begin. Probably not at our beginning because you already know that part. I'll start at the part when I stopped telling you things, which would be right after our freshman year of high school. You had just turned fifteen, and we celebrated your birthday together. I was so in love with you. Is that surprising? I thought it was pretty obvious. We never talked about it, though, and I was trying to find the right time to bring it up. You deserved to know."
"You're kidding," I muttered. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me."
"Then, my parents found out. They were, and still are, the type of people who didn't see the validity in homosexuality. To them, love was a choice, and I chose wrong. They weren't supposed to know until I was sure that they wouldn't be angry, but I accidentally let it slip while I was talking about you. I talked about you a lot. When I saw the realization dawn on them, I didn't even backtrack at first. I wanted to give them a chance to accept me. They didn't, obviously. They took away my phone, and that was when I stopped texting you. I would have gone to your house to let you know what was going on, but I wasn't allowed to leave my room. When I complained about being bored, my parents shipped me off to camp.
"It wasn't a conversion camp, exactly, but it was a month-long Christian camp where the only focus was praising God for every moment of your existence. It was actually pretty fun, and I didn't feel too suppressed there. It also helped that you weren't there. If you weren't in my life, then I wasn't gay. You were the only boy I ever cared about."
I didn't expect him to have actual reasons for everything that he had done. He didn't need any sympathy points from me, but they were beginning to stack up.
"By the time I got back from camp, my parents were pretending to have forgotten the whole thing. I got my phone back, and I saw that your last text had been from a few weeks before. I wanted to talk to you, but I wasn't sure how to without explaining everything or getting myself into trouble again. I didn't like either of those options, so I kept my distance. At the time, I honestly didn't know how much it would hurt you. I didn't think you cared about me as much as I cared about you."
That was his most offensive idea. He didn't think I cared about him as much as he cared about me? Which one of us had abandoned the other?
"I tried to use Shawna to communicate with you, but I'm not sure how many of my messages she actually passed on. I gave up eventually because she never gave me anything from you. I decided it would be best if we pretended that we didn't know each other.
"When I found out that you were going to parties, I started going too. I needed to make sure that you were okay because you didn't seem like someone who'd do well in situations like that. I tried to stay out of your way for the most part, other than the time I dragged you off of the roof. I'm glad you stopped going to those, mostly for your safety and partially because I hated going too. You and Shawna got closer, which seemed to be a good thing for you. So I backed off again.
"Junior year was when I got a girlfriend. I had a class with her, and we talked a lot. She was a great person to talk to. I thought we were becoming good friends, but then, one day, she asked me out. I said yes because I genuinely did like her, and maybe going out with her could be proof to myself that I wasn't gay.
"As far as high school relationships go, it was great. We took it slow and hung out all the time, just like you and I used to. Everything was going well until a few months in, she sat me down, and these were her exact words to me:
'Look, Romeo, you probably already know this, and if not, I'd hate to be the one to break it to you. You're literally the gayest boy I've ever met. It's so obvious. My gaydar is popping, just like your dick is for that guy we keep "accidentally" seeing everywhere.'
"That guy was you."
I put my phone down, shut my eyes, and let out a breath that almost resembled a laugh. Then, I picked it up and kept reading.
"Anyway, we broke up after that. We came up with this elaborate story about both of us cheating on each other so that we'd have something to say if anyone asked. Because of that story, we couldn't really stay friends, but we did check up on each other every once in a while. She texted me a few days before we left to wish me luck on this trip.
"Nothing too important happened during senior year. I did all sorts of things, made all sorts of headlines, hoping that you'd hear about it. I wanted you to remember that I still existed. I was too afraid to talk to you after all this time, so the only other option was for you to approach me first. I hoped that one day, I'd do something so outrageous that you'd just have to talk to me about it."
It shouldn't have worked, but it did.
"This didn't happen until the week we left. You finally texted me, and I was so happy. If you hadn't asked to follow me out of town and wanted to be friends again, I would have stayed for you. I wouldn't have taken anyone else, anyway. That ad was for you to respond to.
"You know what happened after that. In case it wasn't obvious, I still love you. My emotions don't go on rollercoasters like yours do. Years ago, I realized that I was in love with you, and that hasn't changed. Obviously, it doesn't mean anything to you now, and it's probably too late, but I really needed you to know everything before I lost you for good. That's what you dating Jani feels like to me. I know she'll take good care of you, but I can't pretend you're mine anymore. I'm sorry for everything."
That was the end of the story. He didn't write any more after that.
I sat back in my chair, stunned. Was all of that true? When was he planning on telling me this if he hadn't tonight? Why didn't he tell me sooner? We wasted so much time. Despite the situation, I started to smile. He said he loved me.
"Graham?"
I looked up. My eyes burned from staring at my phone screen for so long.
"That's me," I said.
"We've got someone who really wants to see you," the ER doctor who had called my name told me. "If you want to follow me—"
I was already standing up, and I immediately felt light-headed from getting up too fast. I swayed a little before gaining my balance and following the doctor out of the waiting room.
Romeo had been right; he wasn't very far. The entire time, there were only a few walls between us. I tapped my foot impatiently while the doctor explained to me what had happened. He told me that Romeo was in his last few moments. I wanted to scream at him to stop wasting time, to let me see Romeo already.
Then, when the door finally swung open, I saw
Romeo lying on a bed, head propped at an angle with pillows. The tubes in his arms connected to various machines. The only one I recognized was the heart rate monitor. He had lied to me. He wasn't okay.
"Hey," I said. "How are you doing?"
He smiled, then pressed his lips together. I took that to mean to get closer. I walked over to him and leaned down so that my ear was right next to his mouth.
"I'm sorry I took so long." His voice wasn't there; he wasn't even whispering. I felt his words rather than heard them.
"You know you're forgiven," I said softly. "And you know I love you too."
"I don't have time left," Romeo breathed. "It's not looking good."
I had gotten to know heartbreak very well, but as it hovered in the room with us, I was meeting it for the first time all over again.
"So this is the end," I muttered. "After everything, this is how it ends."
"It's not so bad," Romeo told me. "I got more than I ever dared to ask for. And you'll be happy one day. So much happier than I ever made you. Graham, it's not so bad."
I didn't believe that, but maybe he was right. Maybe he would be right eventually. But he'd never find out. I would have to find out for both of us.
"Thank you." Romeo shut his eyes. "Thank you for everything."
This was the end. After everything, this was how it ended.
It would hit me later. In a few days, I would be crying while eating pizza bagels or cleaning his room or driving his car. I would be sad when it rained because he had made me love it. I would remember moments that we had shared in over eight years of something that had been so much bigger than friendship. It would continue until, one day, I believed him. It's not so bad.
"I love you," I whispered. I needed to make sure he knew. He was the smartest person in my world, but he had been wrong about so much.
"I know," he said. His eyes fluttered open for a second. "I love you too. So much."
In our last few seconds together, I held his hand. It's not so bad. It's not so bad.
When every last bit of warmth had drained from the room, I knew what it meant. I didn't have to check the heart monitor. There was only one beating heart left in the room. It was inside my chest, but it belonged to him.
I dropped his hand and listened to our heartbeat.