Page 32 of Boys Like You

I turn and see JD walking towards me wearing one of my old Air Jordan shirts. My tongue goes dry and my pants get a little tighter in the crotch. I internally curse myself. I’m not blind, she’s gorgeous. Which is why it worries me that they’re getting attached. If they start to fall for her, she could be our undoing.

“My shirt looks good on you,” I say as she takes a seat across from me. My mind keeps wandering at the sight of her legs, which appear so much longer tonight.

“I didn’t know it was yours. Beth gave me a few bags of clothes to sort through. I can change and give it back.” I feel like a huge asshole. She is cagey around me and that’s my fault, I push people away, afraid to get hurt. I cover it with the need to protect everybody around me.

“It’s fine, I like it on you.” Her demeanour changes and she starts to visibly relax.

“I saw my therapist today, and I wanted to ask you something.” I like that she jumps straight to the point.

“Okay, shoot.” She turns to me and thinks about what she wants to say.

“Well, I know you had a reaction to how quick the guys have taken to me and I get it, I know you all had traumatic pasts. But my therapist made a comment and it really freaked me out.” She picks at her nails as she talks. “She says sometimes when people go through trauma they get like a hero complex and feel the need to save others. That made me panic that maybe your therapists are saying I’m bad for you guys.”

I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “Maybe your therapist is right in a way. We are messed up, and I don’t want the guys to get hurt if you leave.” That statement is only partly true. I don’t want to get hurt either.

“I won’t hurt any of you, Levi, you need to believe that.” Her blue eyes hold a sadness, one I know all too well. They say eyes are the window to your soul, and I think that’s what’s so scary, we can see ourselves in her eyes.

“I want to, JD, but we have been so close for so long. If that all goes to shit, I lose my family. I know I have Liss and Deacon, but they didn’t live through what I had to. I can’t lose anyone else.” Losing my mother was hard enough. I know that’s where my need for control comes from, but I can’t control JD, and it freaks me out. She has this way of just drawing us out, like she’s a reflection of what we need, and it scares me.

“You won’t lose me,” she says, coming to sit next to me. “I promise, you’re all stuck with me now. I don’t know why, but in that first moment after waking, I felt so safe having you all there. I knew that nothing else mattered. I know how crazy it sounds, but maybe you guys found me for a reason.”

“I can see how close they are with you and how much they have started to take care of you and that hurts. For so long it’s been me looking out for them.” I rest my head against my hands as the realization hits me hard. “Who am I if I’m not holding them up?”

“They still need you, Levi. They always will but it doesn’t have to always be on your shoulders. You’re seventeen.”

“I know that, damn it,” I snap, causing her to flinch and I feel like shit. “After I lost my parents, I felt like I had no one. When I met Maximus and saw how much he needed me, I clung to that. He needed me and now after a few days around you he has made massive improvements and Rocky has been struggling and yet now he is calm, Merce hasn’t been angry and Rory hasn’t been drinking and that makes me feel useless. And what happens when you leave and they all crash and burn, setting them backwards?”

She takes my hand in hers, the size difference makes me smile. If I’m being honest with myself, she hasn’t just affected my friends.

“I’m sorry you feel that way and I plan to stick around, it was never my intention to do any of that. You’re an amazing friend to them and I know they all appreciate you. I hope we can be friends.” She sighs and I know I’m being ridiculous but If I’m not the guy making sure they are all okay, then who am I? Who is Levi? That scares me the most.

After a silence, I peer down at her. “Can’t we start fresh? I can’t promise I won’t be a douche, but you can call me on it when I am.”

“A fresh start would be awesome.”

“Let’s fist bump on it.” She looks at me strangely but holds out her fist anyway. I show her the fist bump fromBig Hero 6. She giggles, loving the sound, and I want to hear more of it. “So, hero complex, huh? I wonder if I would be Batman?” I glance over and see the smile in her eyes.

“No way. You play ball, you would be one that could fly.”

“Oh man, I’m Superman.”

“You would look very handsome in a skin tight bodysuit.” She giggles at the apparent picture of me in a superman suit and I join her.

I feel like we have moved past my insecurities. I need to stop worrying so much; not everyone is out to hurt me. My therapist did mention something similar to a hero complex in our last appointment, but more as a warning to make sure we are befriending her for the right reasons. There’s nothing wrong with helping people and wanting them to be safe. I know when I first saw her on the beach beaten and bruised, it took me back to the day Maximus was brought to Mumma B’s. I don’t know if any part of his skin wasn’t bruised. He looked so broken, curled up on the bottom bunk. He wouldn’t talk, so after a while I became his voice. I was with him for a while before my aunt stepped up and became my guardian. Once she turned eighteen and went through training to become a police officer, I went to live with her. It was tough for us both; I was a young boy living with a teenage girl, but we made it work. Child Services followed us for a long time to make sure Liss could take care of me.

Like a creeper, I watch as JD watches the movie; we decided to watchBig Hero 6seeing as she doesn’t remember seeing it. She gets little crinkles by her eyes when she laughs, and nervously picks at her nails. As the movie goes on, she rests her head on my shoulder. Part of me wants her to move because I’m scared, but she makes me feel like everything will be okay. I have held on to fear since I was a kid, because as long as I remember, no one can leave me again. Up until now, basketball has been the only thing to make me feel free.

I place a small pillow on my lap as her head starts to slide down my arm. She doesn’t put up a fight, just lets it fall on the pillow and she tucks her legs up onto the couch. I run my fingers through her hair as she falls asleep.

I’m woken suddenly by a scream of terror. It’s dark and it takes a minute to remember where I am. JD isn’t beside me anymore, which sends my pulse racing.

A small slither of light from the bathroom draws my attention. Getting up, I switch on the lamp on my way to the ensuite. The door is ajar, but I knock lightly anyway. There’s no answer, but I hear her lose the contents of her stomach in the toilet. Pushing the door open, I freeze. She has removed her shirt and is bent over the toilet in just her black silky underwear, her sweat-covered shirt on the floor next to her. Her hair is out and falls around her face.

I take a deep breath and push the fact that she is almost naked out of my head, as I slowly pull her hair from her face. I place my free hand on her back for comfort. I squeeze my eyes closed for a second to compose myself. It’s been so many years since my own nightmares, I know some of the guys still get them more often than I do but the feeling is terrible. It’s like losing control all over again when you are sucked back to the place or people who tried to take everything from you.

When she finally has nothing left to bring up, she falls backwards, placing her back against the tiled wall and bringing her knees up to cover her front. I flush the toilet for her. Removing my hoodie, I take off my shirt and hand it to her, turning so she can slip it on.

“You can turn back around now,” she says in a low voice. We both leave the bathroom to find Mumma B standing just outside the door.

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