Bottled Up Secret Page 14

  “Of course you won’t, because that would require you to stand up to him.”

  “Oh boy,” Kelly says.

  I interject, trying to defuse the situation. I don’t want Kara to get upset, and I hate the awkwardness. “Natalie, I don’t get it. You don’t think Kara can stand up for herself when it comes to Andrew?”

  “I think she often does what he wants to do and is forced to hang out with his friends,” Natalie explains.

  I look over at Kara, who gives an eye roll before saying, “I’m ready to change the subject.” Fortunately, the conversation doesn’t ruin the night.

  *

  After dinner, I call Natalie so that I can talk to her one-on-one. I hate when two of my best friends fight. I want to hear both sides of the story, but I also feel protective if one of them attacks the other.

  “Hi,” she says after picking up.

  “Okay, please fill me in. I know we’re not a fan of Andrew, but I don’t think he treats Kara badly or anything.”

  “Brendan, how many times have you hung out with them together?”

  “Not nearly as much as you,” I admit.

  Natalie and Kara are members of the flag corps team at my school while Andrew is part of the band. Through practice, games and even band camp, Natalie has definitely spent a lot more time with them than I have.

  “Exactly,” she says. “I’ve watched them since they started dating a year ago. When she’s around him, she’s not herself. She’s much more self-conscious and awkward.”

  “Okay, but is that because she’s around him and you at the same time, so she doesn’t know how to balance?”

  “Balance what? It shouldn’t matter who she’s around. She should act herself, especially around her best friend and boyfriend. It’s not like we’re strangers.”

  “True. So how do you think she acts when it’s just her and him?”

  “Who knows?”

  “All I know is she says that she’s happy with him.”

  “She says that.”

  “I understand if you’re concerned, but it comes off as you being mean and hard on her.”

  “I just think that she tends to put Andrew before us,” Natalie says.

  “See, I disagree with you there. We see her pretty much every weekend.”

  “I’m not talking about just the weekends. If you saw them as much as I do, you’d think the same thing.”

  “All right, that’s fair. Agree to disagree.”

  “And look,” she says, “if I were in your shoes, I probably wouldn’t think she puts him in front of us. But I’m going off my experiences here.”

  “I hear you.”

  I’m not going to let Natalie’s experience affect my view of Kara, but it is eye opening to hear her reasons for being annoyed. As Natalie said, she can only base her opinions off her experiences, and I can only base them off mine. It’s tough because I just want all of us to get along, but I guess it’s normal for there to be strains in friendships at some point.

  *

  The next morning, it doesn’t take long for Mark to call. Halfway through breakfast, my phone rings.

  “Hey, Kara, can I call you back soon?” I answer. He knows that if I call him by another name, my mom is around. About ten minutes later, I head up to my room and call Mark back. I’m a little worried my mom will become suspicious with these private calls, but I even take phone calls from my friends in privacy, so it’s nothing new.

  “Hi,” Mark answers.

  “What up?”

  “Oh, nothing. Just wondering how last night went.”

  I sugarcoat my recap of the story. I can tell that our run-in with Natalie combined with Chris’s growing suspicions have made Mark increasingly worried that we’re going to be found out. I don’t want to add to his stress, but I also don’t want to lie to him.

  “So do you think they believed you?” Mark asks.

  “I think so. I tried to make it seem like they were crazy for thinking that, and that I wish what they thought were true, but it’s not.”

  “Okay.”

  “But I’m not going to lie. They’re still going to be suspicious.”

  “I know.”

  “Are you okay?” I ask. “You sound worried.”

  He sighs. “I don’t know. I keep thinking that the longer we date, the harder it’s going to be to hide it from everyone. I don’t want it to get any worse.”

  “I know. Well, the good news is no one in your life is suspicious besides Chris. Just my friends.”

  “Yeah,” he says, still sounding dejected.

  I try to lighten the mood with sarcasm. “So until your soccer friends start grilling you about me, you’re in the clear.”

  “Brendan, can we be serious for a minute?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t think you understand the difference between our situations here. You’ve already come to terms with the fact that you’re gay. You’ve told your closest friends. If they found out that you and I are dating, it would make your life easier because you wouldn’t have to hide it anymore. Me? I accepted that I have feelings for you, but as for whether I’m gay, I don’t know. I’ve had no desire to answer that question.

  “So right now,” he continues, “yes, I’m really worried that someone is going to find out about us because it will then spread at our school, which will no doubt lead to my friends. Once that happens, the question of my sexuality that I haven’t answered yet will be answered by everyone else. I’d be gay.”

  So far our relationship has been so easy. We’re always in a happy mood when we’re around each other, and our outside worries go away. This is the first time I’ve heard him really distraught.

  He’s absolutely right; our situations are very different. He’s not ready to go through what I’ve already faced this past year.

  “I get where you’re coming from,” I say. “But let’s be honest. This probably won’t be the last time we’re going to have a close call.” Then a question enters my mind that I have to ask. “Do you ever question whether you want to continue dating?”

  I was expecting a swift “no” but instead, there’s silence on the end of the line.

  “Honestly, it’s crossed my mind,” he finally says. “I haven’t given it any serious thought or anything. You know how much I like you. It’s just…I don’t know how to say this…”

  “You can be honest.” His extended pauses indicate that he’s debating whether to deliver a blow.

  “I know that I’m not ready for anyone to know about us,” he says. “So if that’s what’s going to happen if we keep dating, I don’t know if it’s a good idea.” After a pause, he asks, “Are you there?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m not saying I want to end things,” he quickly adds. “I’m telling you what’s been on my mind.”

  “I know. And you can be honest with me about this stuff anytime. I can handle it. What you’re saying makes sense. I guess what I want to say is that it would suck if this ends. You and I get along so well.”

  “I know.”

  “And I don’t want to pressure you, I promise, but can you even let yourself imagine being okay with people knowing about us? Or is it an ‘absolutely not’ sort of thing? Because what if we’re still dating in six months? Or a year? Do you think you’ll want to be open about this part of your life?”

  “No,” he simply says. I wait for him to elaborate. “I’m getting anxiety thinking about that right now. I haven’t let myself think about what my life would be like if people knew.”

  “Fair enough.” It’s not what I want to hear, but I knew what I was getting into when we started dating. I can hope things will be different someday, but I have to accept that they may not.

  “Okay,” I continue. “Let’s think about where we go from here. Natalie and Chris are a little suspicious. Kara already knows but won’t tell anyone, and my mom doesn’t even know who you are, so she’s not a legitimate worry either. As for my other friends, they don’t car
e enough to keep an eye on us. Trust me. So when we hang out, maybe we should pick more random locations where it’s a lot less likely that we’ll run into anyone.”

  “Yes. And we can hang out at my house whenever.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. Maybe I should be more worried about my parents, but I’m not. My main concern is my friends finding out.”

  “Okay, cool. I’m fine cutting back on the public outings. And we should give each other code names in our phones. Not kidding.”

  He laughs. “You sound so excited about that.”

  “I mean, that’s pretty fun, right? Although I guess renaming you ‘Sexy’ defeats the purpose of being discreet. I’ll think of something else.”

  “Oh, Brendan,” he sighs. “Thanks for being understanding. And thanks for being willing to put on a charade with all of your friends.”

  “Look, there’s been some crap we’ve had to deal with since we started dating, but I’m really happy with you, which is all that matters.”

  “Aw,” he says.

  “Seriously.”

  “Well, that makes me feel a lot better about everything.”

  Although my conversation with Mark ends well, I’m still worried he’s a flight risk. I may have made him feel better today, but what if we have another close call? How much more is he willing to put up with before he decides that I’m not worth the risk?

  I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my life, and a large part of that is due to him. Don’t get me wrong; I was happy before Mark, but having him as a boyfriend has added a new layer to my happiness. I know I should try to imagine my life without him in case he and I don’t work out for whatever reason, but my brain won’t let me think like that. Not yet, at least.

  If Mark and I broke up for reasons of incompatibility, I would be able to accept that. But breaking up because someone in my life might find out and tell one of his friends? That would be incredibly frustrating.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The following week brings a noticeable shift in Mark’s behavior. He and I barely talk, and he sounds so closed off when we do. We are hanging out this Thursday, so I decide to give him some space and time to think until then. It’s as if his worries are land mines that could go off at any moment, depending on how much pressure I put on him.

  After school on Wednesday, he calls me.

  “Hey, Brendan, what’s up?”

  “Nothing, just doing homework.”

  “Nice. So listen, I know we’re supposed to hang out tomorrow, but my soccer team is planning to go to dinner after our game. I feel like I should probably go.”

  “Okay. What time do you think you’ll be done?”

  “I probably won’t be back on the west side until like ten.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry,” he says. “But you’re still able to hang out Saturday?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, cool.”

  “Well, what are you doing tonight?” I ask. “Can you hang out?”

  “I kind of have a lot of school work to do.”

  “Okay. Is everything okay? I shouldn’t read into this…”

  “No, I’m good,” he says.

  “All right, then I guess I will talk to you…before Saturday?”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “All right, have fun.”

  Well, that was brief. My anxiety isn’t going away anytime soon. I was hoping to get some reassurance from Mark, but with his last-minute cancellation, I don’t think things are okay.

  *

  Thankfully, a few days later, Mark keeps our Saturday plans to hang out at his house. I’m still shocked that his parents haven’t caught on. Maybe they have, and we’re being totally naïve. Regardless of what I think, he is convinced we have nothing to worry about and being in his home is safer than anywhere in public.

  With that said, I convince him to go see a movie with me before we head to his house so his parents think that we have some semblance of a social life. Besides, a dark theater is almost as safe as his basement.

  We manage to see the movie without being seen by anyone we know and get back to his house at about nine-thirty. His parents are already upstairs for the night. Good.

  I was worried how Mark would behave tonight considering it’s the first time we’ve hung out since his mini freak-out, and he hasn’t said much this past week. To be honest, the night started out weird. We just weren’t clicking like we usually do. Fortunately, by the time we get to his house, we slip into our normal groove. His paranoia has faded and he is his usual self.

  “Explain the riddle again,” he says. “I was distracted.” In the car I told him about a brainteaser I read years ago. Unfortunately, I never found out the answer to it. I always tell people that it will just frustrate them once I say it, but he’s convinced that he can figure it out.

  “Okay,” I say as I open his cupboard to see what junk food he has. “You’re walking along a road, trying to get downtown. Then there’s a fork in the road. The road splits into two, okay?”

  “Yes, I know what a fork in the road is.”

  “Jerk. Okay, so now you don’t know which of the two roads will take you downtown.” He nods with an intense stare on his face as I continue. “In front of each road is a man. One man always lies and one always tells the truth. But you don’t know which man is which. Funyuns!” I say after spotting them in the cupboard. “My favorite.”

  “Brendan,” he says, trying to hide his smile.

  “Okay, you can only ask one man one question in order to figure out which road will take you downtown. So, what question do you ask and to whom?”

  He scrunches his forehead and stays silent for about five seconds while I start eating the Funyuns.

  “This is complicated,” he finally says.

  “Uh, yeah. There are so many layers to it. Which road is right? Who’s telling the truth? What question do you ask?”

  “And you seriously don’t know the answer to this?”

  “Seriously.”

  “I hate you right now,” he says.

  I laugh. “So frustrating, right?”

  “Do you have any gum?”

  “Yeah, here you go,” I say, pulling a pack out of my back pocket.

  “Oh, it’s not for me. I just want to make sure I don’t have to make out with onion breath tonight.”

  “I’m about to punch you,” I say.

  “Why don’t you pin me down instead?”

  “Oh, I was going to do that anyway. Look, I’m done with these.” I close the Funyuns bag and put it back in the cupboard.

  “No. Take them down. I was just messing with you.”

  I shake my head. “I’m done anyway.”

  “In that case,” he says before taking my hand and leading the way down the basement. I pull the gum out again and quickly pop a piece into my mouth.

  After sitting down on the couch and turning on the TV, Mark says, “With one question, you somehow have to figure out which guy is telling the truth and which road will take you downtown.”

  “I know which road will take you downtown,” I say, grabbing his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss.

  “Don’t distract me.” I start to kiss him. “Okay, you can distract me,” he whispers.

  After a few seconds, I pull back. “All right, can I talk to you about something?”

  “I know,” he says. I look at him, perplexed. “I was weird this week.”

  “Yeah. Up until an hour ago, you were not yourself.”

  “I’m sorry. I had a lot of thoughts running through my brain.”

  “I figured. Mark, you have no one to talk to when it comes to us except for one person—me. Even if you think something you say is going to make me upset, you should tell me. I can handle it. Otherwise, you’ll make yourself crazy by keeping everything bottled up.”

  “You’re right.”

  “So do you want to talk about it?” I ask.

  “It’s the same stuff
we talked about last weekend. Nothing new. I’d rather enjoy my time with you tonight instead of talking about my worries. It’s easy when it’s the two of us, but I have a lot of time to think when I’m away from you.”

  “So next time you have doubts or worries, focus on the times we’ve spent together and think about how you’d just die if I weren’t a part of your life.”

  He laughs before giving me a kiss. Nothing too exciting is on TV, so after a couple minutes of channel surfing, we start making out. We start off on our sides, facing each other, but it doesn’t take long for me to get on top of him.

  I continue to kiss him when I suddenly hear a gasp from a few feet away. I look to the bottom of the staircase to find Eva staring at us, her face in shock. I quickly get off Mark, but before he and I can say anything, she darts back up the stairs.

  All this time, I was worried that Mark’s parents would find out about us. I never thought about his sister.

  Mark is still staring at the staircase. The look on his face is one that I’ve never seen before. His stare is blank, his face void of any emotion. I know I have to say something, but I don’t know what.

  Finally, I break the silence, still not knowing what words will come out. “Mark…it will be okay.” My words snap him out of his daze and he instantly sits up, his eyes now staring at the ground. “If you talk to her and explain…”

  “Oh my gosh,” he finally says quietly. “Brendan, you need to leave.” He looks at me for the first time since seeing Eva. “I can’t handle this right now.” His eyes go back to the ground.

  My gut tells me not to fight it so I say, “Okay.” I think about rubbing my hand on his back to comfort him, but I don’t think he wants me anywhere close to him right now. We both stand up and walk upstairs. Eva is nowhere to be seen.

  “I promise it will be okay,” I whisper to him when we get to the front door. “Please call or text me tonight.” He nods.

  I know that nothing I say right now will help. If anything, my presence is hurting things.

  The moment Eva saw us replays in my mind on the way home. How did we not hear her walk down? How did we not hear the basement door open? The TV must have been too loud.