CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
a complicated guy
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ɴᴏʟᴀɴ ᴍᴜʟʟᴇɴ
I was getting used to it. I forced myself to not think about the ghost on the other side of the country. Like some magic spell, this seemed to be the cure for my bad acting. Things went alright during the day. I had my phone turned off the entire time and things were alright.
Yet the moment I came home, I found myself checking the device again, hoping for a missed call or a missed message. Like expected, I found nothing.
I was lying in my bed, ready to sleep as my phone rang. Hope grew in my chest, but I pushed it down to not get disappointed. When his name lit up my phone screen, I didn't hesitate to pick it up. Because what the actual fuck.
"Hey," I said, surprise lacing my voice. "It's been a while."
"Yeah, I'm sorry." He paused for a moment. I could hear him take a deep breath on the other side of the call. "Can I talk to you for a little?" His voice was lower than usual and lacked any sort of tone. It was as though someone replicated his voice and computer-generated some sentences for him to say.
"Yeah, of course." I sat down and moved my pillows around until I found myself in a comfortable position.
"I'm really sorry," he repeated. "I think— I don't know. I think I'm just in a really bad place right now."
I was wrong. There was a tone in his voice. It just wasn't one I really recognized. He sounded drained of energy.
"Oakley, did anything happen?"
"No, it's okay. Nothing happened. Not really, I guess. I think I'm just— I don't know. I just needed to talk to you. Because I haven't in a while and I'm really sorry about that."
I didn't know how to act in a situation like this. He sounded exhausted, miserable, and desperate. He couldn't do this for another month without tearing himself apart. But at least he'd be getting a break in between. Though something in the back of my mind told me it wasn't going to be enough. "Okay, that's okay. When are you coming back?"
"Like, eight more days, I think."
"Eight more days, and then I'll talk you out on a date again. Another private place. Slightly more serial-killer-esque." I tried to weave in the little joke to release some of the tension.
"More than the clearing in the woods behind your house?" I could hear how a smile was peaking through, which instantly lifted my own mood.
"It's like two hours away from LA. It's really beautiful too."
"I wish we were there right now." His voice was barely louder than a whisper. He must've noticed it too as he started to apologize. "I'm sorry. I'm just really tired. But it's okay."
But was it, though? He didn't exactly sound like his usually peppy self.
"Just call me whenever, okay? I don't mind."
"I can't just call whenever, Nolan."
"Of course you can. I like talking to you." I didn't even sound convincing to myself. Not because it was a lie, but because I didn't know why I liked it. I just did. It felt as though that was just the way it was meant to be. It felt good.
It was quiet on the other end of the line.
"I swear, Oakley, if you don't call me I'll literally book a flight just to come see you."
A soft chuckle sounded through the phone, and the familiar fluttery feeling broke out inside my stomach. I smiled and closed my eyes as I leaned back, engulfing myself in a heap of pillows and blankets.
"I'm serious, okay? Just don't ghost me again."
"Okay, fine. I'll call you again tomorrow."
The next day I felt better, in a way. The fact that Oakley called me made me feel a lot more relaxed. And he'd kept his promise by calling me every day after the concerts.
But Oakley apparently only spoke to me. Genevieve texted me the other day, asking if Oakley had contacted me these past few weeks.
You:
Yeah, he called
Genevieve:
Omg really?
Genevieve:
Please call me rn.
I did call her. I just wanted to tell her he's doing better, but I didn't want to get into detail. It wasn't up to me.
"When did he call you?" she asked, her voice a casual kind of worry, if that makes any sense.
"Like, four days ago. Then every day since."
"What? What did he tell you? Me and his family have been trying everything just to hear from him. Danny has been our messenger for like, the entire time."
I didn't even bother to ask who that was.
"He hasn't talked to you at all?" I asked. I'd assumed that since he called me, he must've at least told his family something.
"No." I could hear the way she sounded exhausted. Oakley disappearing off the fucking face of the earth was already exhausting to me, so I could only imagine how it must've been for his best friend he'd had for years. "Look, Oakley is a really complicated guy. He's... I don't know. I don't think it's just the stress, you know? I mean I definitely think it's a contributor, but I don't think it's just that."
"What do you think it is?" I asked. Depression? It was the first thing that came to mind, and it seemed plausible. Though I was not a psychologist so I wouldn't know.
"I don't know. Either way, it doesn't matter. When he gets mad at me he just pushes me away, sometimes for weeks on end. He doesn't like serious talk." We were both quiet. I didn't exactly know how to react to any of this.
In reality, Oakley barely knew me. Yes, we talked a lot. Every free moment of the day we spent texting or calling each other on a regular day. But we only met up a hand full of times and went on one date. And all that Genevieve told me only proved how little I really knew about him.
But why did he tell me things he didn't tell them? Why was he so quick to trust me, out of all people? Genevieve was right. He really was a complicated guy.
"What did he tell you?" she asked for the last time.
"Just that he'd been in a bad place lately. He apologized for disappearing I guess. Mainly small talk."
"Okay. That's good."
"Just let me know if you hear anything else, okay? His mom is going through legal things to see if he can cancel the tour so he can come home to stay this time. His mom doesn't want him to be in New York, all alone and depressed on his birthday."
"His birthday?"
"Yeah. Three weeks from now. They gave him a day off but he's supposed to be in New York the day after. And Ohio the day before. No way she's gonna let that happen."
"I didn't know that," I mumbled mainly to myself.
"Either way, thank you. For calling, I mean. I'll talk to his family and see if I can calm them down just a little. Just don't forget to let me know if he tells you anything, okay?"
"Okay. Bye."
She hung up, and my mind was spinning. It was too much information to process all at once, and I didn't know what to do with it.
Oakley wasn't going to be an easy person to date, but neither was I.
In all honesty, I was still afraid. I'd tried dating since Kylan, but my thoughts seem to ruin every little thing I had.
Oakley was different. He didn't care about my constant pondering or the fact I kept these things to myself. He didn't get aggravated like guys — especially Kylan — before. He had patience.
I wanted this to work. Because I knew that if we'd get over the little bump, we could last. But then again, Oakley hadn't dated any guys before. I wasn't even sure if he'd ever questioned his sexuality before. Things like these took time.
Oakley has the patience to put up with me, so the least I could do was let him take his time too. And I'd be there, every step of the way, whether he wanted me to or not. For him, I didn't mind waiting.
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