Page 74 of The Golden Boy's Guide to Bipolar
I pretend I don’t know he has a hickey and take the telescope back, ignoring the pang in my stomach. It must be a pretty cheapy telescope because yeah, I can hardly see shit. I eventually find the moon and think for a second that maybe we can bullshit an assignment using that, but there’s no way that would work.
I put the telescope down between us. I guess this is what we get for trying to get a telescope at Walmart. “We need a better—”
“Is this really what you want?” Jamal interrupts, which he never does. He finally turns back to look at me.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, feeling his eyes on me but not daring to look into them.
“To barely talk? To pretend like there’s nothing between us but a bootleg telescope? Even when no one’s around?” His voice catches, and I can’t stand hearing him hurt, so I cave and look at him.
His eyes are soft and intense, made to look even bigger under his glasses. He’s always looking at me like that. Intense. Focused. Like there’s nothing else here but me.
Me.
Why would he want there to be nothing else but me?
“Who gave you that?” My voice comes out quiet, and it’s anything but steady. Why would I ask him that? It’s none of my business. Do I even want to know the answer?
“That’s not fair,” he says. “Isn’t this what you wanted? To get rid of me?” My ears heat at the question, and that familiar anger rushes to the surface.
“Don’t act like you know what I want!” I burst out. “You don’t know me like that anymore.”
I expect him get angry back, or at least hurt, but he just calmly pushes his glasses up his nose and states the obvious. “You’re being mean.”
I scoff. “Yeah, well if you’re surprised about that, then youreallydon’t know me.”
“Look, I know you’re trying to get a reaction out of me or something, but I’m not playing that game with you. Neither of us has a choice about being here together, and I don’t expect you to pretend you’re happy about it, but I can’t do this if you’re not gonna treat me with respect.”
I swallow over the lump in my throat. He seems about as done with me as he can be, and that’s a good thing. “Okay.”
“So... question,” Jamal says after a while of silence.
“Yeah?” I ask, the lump growing.
“What am I supposed to do? You act like you want nothing to do with me, and I’m trying to respect that, but you’re also acting like I did something wrong. So whatdoyou want, Cesar?”
“I don’t know!” I blurt out. I neverwantedto lose Jamal, but it was the only way to give him a happy ending. Me getting one has never been an option, so it doesn’t matter how bad I want him. “I neverwantedany of this, but...” I cover my face with my hands so he can’t look at me like that anymore. “But I know what I need.”
“What’s that?”
“I need you to stop caring about me, okay?Youshould want nothing to do withme.That’swhat I need.”
He’s quiet again for way too long. I don’t have to see him to know those big eyes are still trained on me.
“I understand,” he finally says. And when I move my hands from my face, he’s looking at the stars.
27
When Everyone Would Be Better Off Without You
Unwanted Thoughts
I spend all of Saturday in bed being depressed. Hunter texts me wanting to hang out again, and I ignore it. He calls me. I ignore it.
I can’t bring myself to get my poetry notebook out of my desk, but I find myself really wanting to get out my pent-up shit about Jamal. So, I type it in my notes app instead.
J is for just a friend. Just a test from God, or the devil. Just the reason I’m going to hell. Just the reason I’m still here.
A is for attempt. I tried to be good enough for him, but I’m not. So I tried to forget instead.
