Page 74 of Follows with Intent

“I loved it. I want to pull your hair out.”

“Lots of mixed messages tonight.”

Nico’s smile was cockeyed. One of those fine-boned hands curled around the bedrail. The bandage cuffing his wrist rustled when it brushed the hospital blanket. He was aware, again, of Nico’s sleepy breaths. Of how little distance separated them.

“I’m not a good person,” Nico whispered. “I thought you liked me when we were texting, and then you didn’t, and then we met in person and I was even worse, and you’re—you’re so wonderful. And I’m such a mess.”

“I think maybe you’re being a little hard on yourself,” Jadon said, his voice so thick he thought it might crack. “I’m a mess myself. What would Kierkegaard say about all this?”

“Kierkegaard definitely wouldn’t be in favor of quid-pro-quo BJs.”

Jadon gave him a look.

That cockeyed grin widened and then, after a moment, faded again. “Kierkegaard wasn’t a big fan of the aesthetic.”

“That’s not the part I’m talking about. I’m talking about the other stuff.”

Nico rolled his eyes. And he managed to put enough spin on it to make a middle-schooler proud. But after a few huffing breaths, he said, “Do you not know that there comes a midnight hour when everyone has to throw off his mask?”

The words sent a frisson down Jadon’s spine. The hairs on his arms stood up. The midnight hours. All those midnight texts.

“Do you believe,” Nico continued in that same voice like he was reciting something, “that life will always let itself be mocked?” He stopped and swallowed. “In every man, there is something which to a certain degree prevents him from becoming perfectly transparent to himself, but he who cannot reveal himself cannot love, and he who cannot love is the most unhappy man of all.”

The chill that had run through Jadon’s body felt like an iron band around his chest. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even talk. He thought about all the things he’d said to Nico, all the things he’d never told anyone else. The things he hadn’t even known about himself until he’d put them into words. And the way Nico had told him what no one else would. Had helped him see himself, even if it hurt.

“I’m tired of not being who I am,” Nico said in that slow-thick voice again. “I’m tired of caring what people think. I’m tired of trying to convince myself if I can be smart enough, if I can be good enough, if I can find the right part and play it perfectly, someone will actually want to be with me. With me, Jay. And that’s so stupid, because how can anyone be with the real me when I’m trying so hard to be someone else? I want to wear super slutty clothes if I want to wear them. I never in my entire fucking life want to wear a quarter-zip again. I mean, my God, they’re like the Emery Hazard of clothing. And I am tired of not being honest about how I feel. I like you, Jadon.” Nico stopped. His Adam’s apple moved again, and he gave a weak laugh that sounded mostly like despair. “Actually, I think I love you, which is your cue to run as fast as humanly possible. I love the guy I got to know over all those texts. I love the guy right here, right now, who’s so much better than words on a screen. I love that you listen to me, and more importantly, that you pay attention to me. You care about the things I care about. I love how resolved you are, how disciplined, how much you give of yourself to do what you think is right. And that goddamn picnic in the library.” Nico’s voice broke. “I mean, how the hell am I supposed to do anything after that?” He was quiet again, and when he spoke, his voice softened to a whisper. “So, there it is. I love you. And for the record, being vulnerable is not cute.”

The last part he said as though it were a joke, but Jadon didn’t laugh. That length of iron still felt like it was wrapped around his chest. He felt dizzy, and a part of him recognized that it was because he wasn’t getting enough air. Finally, though, he managed to say, “You were right when you told me I was afraid. I’ve been afraid for a long time. Afraid of meeting someone I would…would care about, I guess. Afraid of what that would mean. And I told myself it was because I didn’t want to get distracted. That was the truth, but only partly. I’m having a…” The laugh tore out of him. “I guess you could call it a hard time. I’m having a hard time letting go of some stuff. What happened to me with Barr, you know about that. And it was more than—more than what they did. The injuries, I mean. It’s what they took from me. Who I thought I was. Strong, tough. The stupid idea that I knew how to handle myself, let alone how to handle everything else. They took that from me. And so I’ve been on this fucking—this fucking treadmill, running as fast as I can and no matter how hard I try, I’m always falling behind.”

Nico’s breathing sounded slow and deep, almost like he was sleeping, but the coal-fires of his eyes glittered back at Jadon.

“But that’s part of it,” Jadon said and gave a ragged laugh. “The other part is, I think I knew once I met someone, I couldn’t—I couldn’t do this anymore. Keep juggling everything. I knew once I met someone I cared about, I’d have to deal with it. And I’m scared—” He had to stop; his throat closed. Finally, in a tight voice, he said, “I’m fucking terrified of dealing with it.”

“Jay,” Nico whispered, and his hand shifted on the rail like he might reach out.

“So, you deserve to know that. There’s a lot going on in my life right now. And I’m not handling any of it well. And I told North and Shaw, and they said I wanted you to be my fuck doll—”

“Excuse me?” Nico murmured.

“—and that’s not what I want, and I keep feeling like I’m banging my head against the wall.”

The smile on Nico’s face had faded slowly as Jadon spoke. Now, his expression unreadable, he watched Jadon for a long moment. Then he wiggled his fingers. When Jadon didn’t do anything, he made a vexed noise and wiggled them again. “Scoot, Jay. I want to hold your hand.”

So, Jadon scooted. He wrapped Nico’s hand in his own. A moment later, Nico threaded their fingers together.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Nico whispered. “You don’t have to say anything. You don’t have to be anything. I shouldn’t have told you that tonight. We’re both in a weird place, and I know I put you on the spot. I wanted you to know that I care about you, and I’m happy I know you. Kind of doubly so, I guess, since you also saved my life tonight. But I’m not asking for anything, Jay. I promise.”

This time, Jadon did laugh. It was another one of those sounds that felt ripped out of him, and he shook his head. “No, that’s not—I love you.”

“Jay, you don’t have to—”

“Please.” Nico didn’t say anything, but Jadon shook his head anyway. “I do. I love you, and I didn’t think—I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think I’d ever feel this way again. I had all these reasons. All these lists. All the explanations and justifications and arguments. And then we started talking, and—and I fell in love with you. And I could tell you it’s because you’re so sensitive, and you understand me, and you make dumb jokes, and you have great taste in movies. And it is those things. But it’s also—I don’t know how to say it. It happened, Nico. It happened, and everything was different. I was in your dorm room, and your head was on my chest, and it fucking happened. It was like that leap of faith you were talking about. I was on the other side of it, and I realized none of those stupid reasons mattered. None of them made any difference at all. I love you, and I have no idea what to do about it.”

When he looked over, Nico’s eyes were wet.

Jadon heard what he’d said. “Okay, I understand that didn’t sound romantic—”

“I don’t want romantic,” Nico said, his voice rough. “I want you.”

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