Page 88 of Finding Delaware

Shit. No, no, no.

He’s gonna tell. I just know it. And then Dad and my bike will be gone. I’ll get sent somewhere far away, and I’ll never see Christian again.

No, no, no no

I can’t let him. So I spout off the first thing that comes to my head.

“Are you checking me out, dude?! In the locker room?”

His face goes white, and his lips part as he stammers. “N-no, I wasn’t! I j-just thought-”

Something twists in my stomach at seeing him out of sorts. It makes me feel icky, like I want to stop his stuttering and take it back, but I can’t. And it makes me angry.

So I throw out my fist, connecting it with his stomach, causing him to double over and groan. But the sick feeling doesn’t go away. It just worsens.

“Don’t let me catch you ever looking at me in the locker room again,” I snarl close to his head, but before I know what’s happening, he’s knocked me onto my back. Pain erupts as he hits me once, twice, right in the sides. And then he’s glaring down at me, calling me an asshole before storming off. I decide to lay here for a while, breathing through the aches on my body and in my chest. I feel bad.

But at least if Huck goes to a teacher and tells them what he saw, I can blame the bruises on him.

Even if I kind of hate myself for hurting him.

A deep sigh from the couch draws me out of my head.

“I can tell you’re awake,” Huck grumbles, “and it’s keepingmeawake. Go to sleep, Taylor.”

With a hum, I draw my blanket tighter around me. “How can you tell?”

He’s silent for a moment. “Your thoughts are basically screaming.”

“What are they saying?” I whisper, stomach quivering.

For a moment, I don’t think he hears me.

“I don’t know what they’re saying,” he mutters, blankets rustling. “I never know what’s going on inside your head.”

Yeah, Old Taylor was a mess at explaining his feelings. But slightly jaded, sober Taylor, who’s been in therapy for years, has formed healthier habits—well, healthy-ish.

So I flip around to find Huck’s eyes wide open, on his side facing me. “I can tell you if you like?”

He blinks. “Not interested.”

Yeah, I bet.

“Well, I need to say it,” I swallow, keeping my gaze on him. “Huckslee, I’m sorry.”

“I said I’m not interested.” His face hardens, lips curling into a snarl. “I don’t want to hear it, Taylor.”

“Maybe you need to.”

He growls angrily, rolling over. “I don’t need to do shit. Leave me alone.”

For a second, I just stare at him, feeling hollow.

I’ve offered him an olive branch, not for the first time, and it feels like he keeps shutting me down. You’d think I’d take the hint. Move on, let him go, realize he can’t feel anything for me after our past. But hope still burns inside me, and I refuse to let it die. Ican’t. Not when there are so many things unknown and unspoken between us. Because not only does he deserve closure, but so do I, dammit.

I fucking deserve closure.

“No.” I’m up off the floor instantly, standing above the sofa. “No, you don’t get to shut me out.”

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