Page 11 of Catch Me
“You don’t want to hang out anymore?”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he gave me a look of disbelief. “Hang out. No, Roman, we can’thang outanymore.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not doing this sneaky shit. It’s exhausting, and I want something real.”
“Real,” I repeated.
“Yeah, like, someone who won’t flip a switch and get all pissy because he can’t admit the truth. I get it, but that’s your thing to deal with since you’re...not gay.”
“I’m not.”
He nodded slowly and dropped his gaze to his feet. “Yeah.”
I stared at him, not sure what to say. He’d made his decision, and what was I going to do? Beg him to reconsider? That made no sense. He wanted a relationship, and all I could do was call him to have sex. Sometimes, we hung out before or after, but I wasn’t going to date him. That was...
Shaking my head, I turned around and continued to the parking lot. I dropped into my Civic hatchback and gripped the steering wheel hard as I headed to my apartment. I felt worse than I had before. It didn’t help that my head fucking hurt. Maybe I’d lie in bed all weekend. I had to fall asleep eventually.
I whipped into the spot in front of my unit, then slammed my car door. It took me a second to get the key in the lock, which pissed me off more. My hands were shaking, and when I finally got inside, I dropped my lanyard. I left it on the floor and collapsed on my bed.
Even though my studio was kind of shitty, my mattress was comfortable. If I tried to think of other positives, I’d just get more depressed because there weren’t many. I liked my car, I guess. My dad paid for the apartment, which was a plus. I had an assigned parking spot. That was neat.
Burying my face in the pillow, I closed my eyes and willed this headache to go away. I was sure that if I could get some sleep, it would be better. It didn’t matter how much I wanted it, though. I was stuck in the world of consciousness with brief intervals of rest that didn’t do much good.
There was one thing that would knock me out, so I got to my feet and grabbed a case of beer from the fridge. I set it beside the bed since I didn’t want to get up every ten minutes. Or less. I might run through them quickly.
After I drained the first one, I uncapped another and started scrolling on my phone. I came across some pictures Til posted on Instagram. He was standing on a balcony extremely high up with a view of Seattle. Brooks was making a face like he was terrified while Til flipped off the camera with his tongue out, showing his metallic purple piercing.
The second one was of them kissing in the same spot. I swiped to the third, which was in a kitchen fit for a professional chef. Wherever they lived was on a level that ninety percent of the population would never be able to afford.
Must be nice.
Without thinking about it, I liked the post. I was going to remove it, but I just left it there and continued scrolling. It was probably good for me to be supportive and happy for him. It washealthy.
On a whim, I typed in Travis’ name and navigated to his profile. I knew who he was, but I didn’t fanboy over people. If I had, I would’ve immediately seen that he was gay. There were so many posts about it. I clicked on a LIVE video he was running and set the phone on the bed while I started on another beer.
“My dad is gonna come on one of these days and talk about his side of things.” He leaned forward as he read some comments. “Let’s back up real quick. My dad and I have a really good relationship now. He made a mistake and he’s admitted that. He pulled me out of conversion when he saw how messed up the whole thing was.”
Conversion? That was sort of shocking. Clearly, it hadn’t worked.
That thought made the beer feel acidic in my stomach, but I shook away the feeling. My views had sort of changed over the years. I used to verbally attack Til and make AIDS comments. Until very recently, I called Alex by his original name. Dead name? I wasn’t a hundred percent sure what they called it.
I’d met gay and trans people at school. While I didn’t fully understand it, I wasn’t hateful like I was as a teenager. I was never rude to Ezra, and I even enjoyed hanging out with him. I just tried not to think about it too much. We’d been sleeping together for a while, but it was better that he’d cut it off. I had to get myself together. This wasn’t normal.
“Um...” Travis’ head cocked as he looked at the bottom of the screen. When he looked at the camera again, it felt like he was staring directly at me.
Shit. Did it tell him I was watching this?
“Sorry. I got distracted. ADHD brain.”
He laughed and ran a hand through his hair. It was the same length as it was on his phone background. Up close, I could see it had some lighter colors in it, like highlights, but they looked natural. I wondered if it was from the sun.
“So, I’ve been thinking about a friend lately. His story is his own, but what he went through was so much worse than I did. I know there are people out there who’ve experienced horrible things because of their sexuality. Maybe you still haven’t figured out who you are or accepted it.” He looked directly at the camera again. “I want to do more if I can. If anyone is comfortable coming on here to share their story, I’d love to have you. You can stay anonymous, of course. And if you don’t want to share it publicly, I have a ton of resources you can check out in my bio. We all deserve love and acceptance. Remember that.”
I exited the LIVE and hovered my finger over the follow button. There were so many comments coming through the feed that hecouldn’t have noticed my name pop up when I joined. I wasn’t sure why, but I didn’t want him to know that I’d looked at his page.
He hadn’t texted me yet, which might not be a big deal. Maybe the team managers decided not to take his suggestion. I figured he would’ve told me either way, but maybe not.
