We sit there watching a movie together in contentment. River has joined us after ordering the takeout, but he's curled up in the chair in the corner of the room. My eyes have become so heavy that my head is now resting against Ben's shoulder. My eyelids droop closed again, and I'm just about to lose the battle when my phone buzzes loudly and I jump.
I sit up and unlock my phone to check the message, which is from an unknown number. I scan the screen frozen in shock. 'Hey fag. Think you'd be able to fake an injury and skip practice? We're smarter than that.' My eyes run over the words again and again, unable to shake them.
I take in a shaky breath and lock my phone, turning it over and laying it on the coffee table. I mumble to Ben that I'm going to the bathroom and walk down the hall, quickly shutting the door behind me.
My breathing is shaky, nearly coming in gasps now. That word is echoing in my head. 'Fag.' I grip the edges of the sink tightly, feeling lightheaded. I squint my eyes closed, trying to control my breathing.
I stand in the same position for a few minutes with my teeth clenched until I finally catch my breath. 'You're okay you're okay you're okay.' I repeat in my head.
I transition to deep breaths and take a moment more to compose myself before opening the door and heading back down the hall, now feeling numb.
I freeze in my tracks when I realize both Ben and River are staring at me and my phone is in Ben's hands.
"Jay..." Ben begins, but I cut him off and snatch the device from his hands.
"I don't want to talk about it."
I walk briskly to his front door and leave, him calling after me. "Jay!" I storm away, ignoring his voice. His footsteps come closer and his hand appears on my shoulder, turning me around.
I shrug it off and look him in those bright green eyes. "No. I already told you I don't want to talk about it. Not only that, you violated my privacy."
Tears begin to fill my eyes as I raise my voice. "What right did you have?!" I turn and storm away, trying not to let the tears spill down my face. He doesn't follow me again.
I resist the urge to turn and look at him, instead going outside and texting my sister to come pick me up. 'Sure, where are you?' I look around, realizing that in my anger I've stormed into the middle of the downtown shopping district where I took a walk with him just the day before.
I sigh, typing out a response. 'Downtown shop area, meet by the fountain?'
I run a hand through my hair and slip my phone in my pocket, heading toward the meet up point.
It feels like every eye stares at me as I walk by. They're probably all thinking the same word. 'Fag.' I shove my hands deeper into my pocket and quicken my pace, averting my eyes from the harsh gazes.
I get to the square that houses a fountain and benches and find one away from the crowd and bustling people to sit on. It's funny how all these people have their own lives, and that really, to them, I'm a face in the crowd. I'm nothing to them. I'll probably make no impact in their lives, while they go on living their own lives unaware of my own problems. I'm an ant in a giant world, one that feels as if it's crashing down around me.
All the people who were supposed to be there for me are drifting away, slipping through my fingers like whispers of wind. My family will be gone once they find out my sexuality. The football team clearly isn't as supportive as I'd thought... the message was proof of that. Sure, it could be just one player, but the chances of there being others too are higher than I'd usually like to admit. There's a part of me that knows it could even be Devon who sent the message, from another phone.
Then there's River and Ben. Ben. Ben with his bright green eyes and goofy smiles and contagious laughter, his well sculpted shoulders and cute sleepy yawns.
Ben... who probably hates me now. Both he and River read that text. It was written all over their faces.
I run a hand down my face. Sure, maybe he just wanted to talk to me about it. But the fear from the possibility of it being rejection made me run. It was something my heart couldn't take again.
I'd fallen head over heels for the last one. I was so deeply in love that I didn't stop to consider that my feelings weren't romantically reflected. The rug was ripped out from under me when I confessed my feelings to him, only to have a look of disgust overtake his face.
And that word. It was always that word. Before the team beat up anyone who dared to utter it near me, it was a constant whisper up and down the school hallways. 'I hear he's a fag.' 'Of course our school would have a fag for a quarterback.' Even after the halls were silenced, it bounced around my head at all times of day.
That message just brought back all those bad feelings; the feeling that my sexuality would never be comfortable set of clothes. The world always saw it as just the opposite, which meant a part of me would always be uncomfortable in my own skin. I hated it.
If Ben took the view of the world, or if he didn't reciprocate my feelings, I'd just end up with a broken heart again, after I just finished sealing some of the old cracks.
I'm pulled out of the abyss of my thoughts when someone shakes my shoulder. I look up to find my sister, slightly disappointed when it's not Ben. "You were spacing out. You ready to go?" She asks. I blink a few times and nod, getting up and leaving the fountain and square behind as I follow her to her car.
Ben's P. O. V.
I don't even know what to do anymore. River and I are eating our Chinese food in silence while I'm deep in thought.
I want to call him even though he's mad at me and River advised against it. I mean, he does have every right to be upset. I looked at his phone after all.
But the expression on his face after he read that message and his sudden shift in demeanor queued me in that something was wrong. My worry for him was at the forefront of my mind when I checked his phone. So maybe I wasn't thinking. But now I'm just more worried about him than before and I can't stop thinking about him.
My finger hovers over the call button on my phone but River stops me with a hand on my arm. "At least give him some time to cool down. He's upset right now and probably doesn't want to talk." I bite my lip and nod, putting my phone back down and trying to distract myself with the food.
Jay's P. O. V.
The minute I get in the house my dad is hounding me again. Except now it's: "If you're feeling good enough to go out with your friends, you're good enough to go back to practice. I'm going to call up the coach so we can get you back on the field."
Now I'm back in my bedroom, sitting on my bed and running my hands through my hair while trying not to stress, which is proving impossible.
Going back to practice means playing with whoever sent me that text, which is someone I'd rather avoid at this point.
My thoughts are interrupted when a sharp pain spikes through my head. I fall back onto the bed with a sigh. Every time I think that maybe I'm doing better, something happens that proves me wrong. Right now, I'm hoping I can just get through practice without a hitch.
I hear footsteps on the stairs and quickly sit up, pretending to scroll on my phone. My dad opens the door without knocking and flashes me a sly grin. "You can go to practice the day after tomorrow. I convinced the coach you're doing fine and told him you'd be there then."
I give him a weak smile, but he doesn't seem to pick up on my lack of enthusiasm. He claps me on the back and leaves the room.
Another sharp pain hits my head and I grimace. I decide to go down to the kitchen to find some medicine. My sister Alexa is on the couch again, typing on her laptop as usual.
"Whatcha working on?" I ask her as I dig through the bottles. "Paper for physics." She says, rubbing her head and hitting the backspace button aggressively.
Her stomach gives a loud growl and I give her a pointed look. "When was the last time you ate?" I scold, swallowing a few pills. "I guess I could use a break," she sighs. "My professor isn't expecting it till later this week anyway. Did you eat yet? We could just order something." She suggests as I plop onto the couch next to her and switch on the TV.
"Yeah let's order something." I agree. "How about Chinese?" I tense up, reminded of my fight with Ben. "Uhhh let's get something else. How about pizza?" She shrugs. "Sure, but you have to tell me why I had to come pick you up." She says, raising an eyebrow.
I sigh. "I'd really rather not talk about it." "Then maybe I'll just get Chinese." She comments. I groan. "We... We had a fight okay? Now order the damn pizza." I say.
"Okay okay. Geez." She mutters. "I just really don't want to talk about it right now, okay?" I say quietly, running a hand through my hair. She hums in response as she orders the pizza on her laptop.
I distract myself with the show on the TV, trying not to think about everything. "I heard dad's making you go back to practice soon. Are you sure you're up for that?" Lex asks me. I shrug. "I mean, I don't have much of a choice either way, do I?" "That's not an answer." She says, giving me a look.
"I'll be fine." I mumble, trying to convince her and myself. She looks at me dubiously, but drops the subject, which I'm grateful for.
Instead of watching the show I've turned on, I end up spacing out again thinking about Ben. I'm still mad at him, but I think I'm more embarrassed than anything else.
He read me like a book and could tell something was wrong. Not only that, he read that message and he knows I didn't bother to respond.
Does he think I'm weak for not fighting back? Should I have messaged the number back? I let out a frustrated sigh and then realize Lex is still in the room. She glances at me with an eyebrow raised, but doesn't say anything other than, "The pizza will be here soon."
I nod absentmindedly, my thoughts on other things. I'm reminded of my ever present headache when an actor screeches on the TV.
I get up with a huff and walk back to the pill cabinet to check labels. "What are you doing?" Lex asks. "Seeing how long I have to wait before I can take another dose." I say.
She frowns at me. "Do you have another migraine?" She wonders aloud. I nod and go back to the couch. "Nothing's working." I tell her. She rises from the sofa and dims the lights.
"Does that help any?" She questions. "A little bit." She opens her mouth to respond but is cut off by the sound of the doorbell.
"That must be the pizza. I'll be right back." She says and goes to the door.