All American Boys

Chapter 31: Teen Idle

I couldn't face Isaac. I avoided looking at him whenever I could. And he seemed to be happy with the way things were. He avoided sitting with us, so now there was only four of us left at the table – Cyril, Shoshana, Emily and I.

It has almost been two weeks. Two weeks of radio silence. I couldn't help but feel concerned for him. I thought that perhaps he just needed some space and that he would eventually come crawling back, but I suppose I was wrong. I wondered how he was doing.

I admit, it was wrong of me to just leave him alone for two weeks, and not attend his father's funeral. In my defence, I thought that he would be fine with it, and that he would be better off not seeing me for the time being. I thought that once things had settled down we would go back to how things were before, but the days gone by and things were still left frozen. I thought of approaching him, but I had been rather hesitant.

There was also the thing about Cyril. If I were to try to make it work out with him, or at least make it last long enough, I had to address the elephant in the room. Cyril knew Isaac and I were 'friends', but I had to make sure nobody could use whatever I had with Isaac against me. I had to tell Cyril. It was that better learned it from me than anyone else. I'd rather he not know about me and Isaac as all, but I was afraid that, for whatever reason, Isaac could just go up to him and tell him everything. Not that I think he would, but I just didn't want to risk it.

Especially after what happened at the funeral, from what Emily told me, I had reason to be cautious. Cyril had approached Isaac, and although she couldn't hear what they talked about, I couldn't help but worry about it. When I asked him about it, Cyril told me that he was just giving Isaac his condolences. I knew Cyril wouldn't lie to me, but I suppose when you've been lying for as long as you remember, you would just naturally be more suspicious of everything. I suppose it was something that I had to live with, being afraid of every little shadow, every minute creak. Cyril questioned me on why'd I ask that, so I just told him I was curious. It wasn't an exact lie. He gave me a weird look, but he otherwise said nothing else. That was the end of it.

It did remind me even after all that while I hadn't even given Isaac my condolences. Not long after that, I sent a text to him, telling him how sorry I was for his loss. Well, I didn't truly feel that way, but it dawned on me that my radio silence only served to reflect badly on me to him.

Isaac left me on read.

It left me on edge. As long as I didn't have Isaac firmly in my grasp, I was not safe. There was still the thing about Aaron Beauchamp, but so far I've managed to convince him that I was 'working on it', and he seemed satisfied for the time being. For now, I had Aaron in check, but who was to say that he wouldn't turn against me and released that video?

That's where me telling Cyril about Isaac and I came into play. That way, Aaron and Isaac wouldn't post as much of a threat. Cyril would believe me over them.

On one of the days when he didn't have football practice, I asked Cyril to go grab a bite after school. I decided that the time has come.

We went to the same diner, the one that he had brought me to on our first date. It was quite empty that afternoon, just Cyril and I, together with a few truckers. Cyril's expensive red car was a stark contrast to the giant trucks parked a stone's throw away. It was an establishment near the outskirts of town anyway, so truckers weren't that rare of a occurrence.

Cyril sat across the table from me, a light blue cashmere sweater tied over his shoulders, covering his pink polo shirt. We had some milkshakes, and shared a basket of onion rings and French fries between us. I wasn't that hungry, to be honest. It was just an excuse for me to talk to him in private, but I didn't want to go to his house. We'll just have sex anyway and it'll get nothing done.

As I sat there, trying to gather my words in preparation, my mind seemed to drift off to everything but the boy in front of me. I was hesitating whether I really wanted to tell him or not. It was almost as if my body didn't want to. Almost as if it knew it was a bad idea. I kept slurping on my milkshake, trying to buy time.

"The price of the damn gas keeps going up." I heard the trucker in the red flannel shirt complained as he sat at the bar. "Can you believe it? 5 dollars a gallon! It was only 4 last month."

Yeah. Gas money. That was another one of my worries. I didn't know if Cyril felt it, but to me, the rise in the prices made me feel the pinch. I guess I needed to ask mom for more gas money. I'm sure she had some to spare.

"The gas prices are rising up," I said to Cyril, trying to start an empty conversation as I prepared myself to say what I really wanted to say.

"Yeah," Cyril replied, stirring his milkshake. "It sure is. It's the war."

"Which one?" I questioned. "We've been at war since as long as I could remember. There's always a war somewhere."

"You know, for someone who says he switches on the news every morning, you don't seem to know a lot about current events," he chuckled.

"It's all depressing," I said, dismissing him with a shrug. "I've already got enough to worry about."

"I'm not too sure about it either, but I can try to explain what I know," Cyril said, before pooing a fry in his mouth.

"Enlighten me, dear," I replied, tilting my head as I placed a hand on my cheek.

"Don't quote me on the details, but I think some king died somewhere and people are fighting or something? I forgot which one of those Islamic countries, I'm pretty sure it's the one with lots of oil. . . Oh yeah! Saudi Arabia."

"Oh?" I asked, not really interested, as I took a sip of my milkshake.

"Yeah, and apparently the war disrupted the oil flow or something," Cyril further explained. "And there's talk of Iran getting involved and-"

I tuned him out as he went on trying to explain to me things that I weren't interested in. He was so naïve. He could know all about thing happening in faraway countries but he didn't even know what was happening under his own damn nose.

"Have you ever thought of majoring in political science?" I interrupted him, getting a bit bored by the conversation. "I'm pretty sure you'd enjoy it."

"It's one of my options that I'm considering," he said, not even seeming to realise that I'd cut him off earlier. "I mean, it's an interesting field of study."

"It sure is," I replied.

We soon returned to silence, as we continued eating. Well, it was a normal occurrence for us to be silent in between parts of conversation, but it felt more obvious to me when I had something important to say. I rehearsed everything that I needed to get across in my head. I had been planning, I had been organising it to make sure it all came out in the most sincere way possible. I knew he'd buy it, but it doesn't hurt to exercise prudence when it comes to things like this. I didn't want to seem too sloppy.

As Cyril reached out for the salt shaker, I got ready to tell him.

"Cyril," I finally said. "I have something important to tell yo-"

I was interrupted by the metal cap of the shaker falling off while Cyril was holding it, spilling salt all over his forearm. He managed to tip the container up again with his quick reflexes, saving half of the salt from spilling. White crystals covered his hands, and some of them even ended up on his shirt.

He seemed shocked at first, but eventually he just brushed it off with a chuckle.

"Well," he said, a smile on his lips. "The first time it was with you, so it's only fair that it's my turn."

I shot him a smile in return as I reached over the table and helped him clean up, dusting the powdery crystals off his arm while he cleared the tabletop. I reminded him that we didn't need to clean it up so much, and that the waitress was going to wipe the table anyway. Sometimes the boy was too helpful for his own good. But his helpfulness was only to the detriment of himself, not mine.

"Anyway," Cyril said once we were done. "What were you saying earlier? What's so important?"

This was it. He looked at me from across the table with his pretty hazel eyes. Those eyes that had always looked at me with an eager fascination, those eyes that looked up at me with longing. Those eyes that I stared into as I fed him lies straight from my mouth.

"As you're my boyfriend, my one and only boyfriend, I feel like it's about time that I come clean to you," I began, speaking out the words that I had rehearsed in my mind before. "We should be honest to each other, and I'm really I kept this from you."

Cyril inched forward slightly.

I took a deep breath.

"Isaac and I. . ." I began. "We've had a history."

I wasn't technically lying. We were involved in a relationship, as much as you can call it one. But Cyril kept on listening attentively. There wasn't even a crease in his face, no frown on his eyebrows to ever indicate that he was judging me.

"We've broken up," I said to him, averting my gaze. "There's nothing going on between us anymore."

As those words left my lips, I felt an unexpected pain creep to my chest. It hurt, because hearing those words spoken aloud was acknowledging the reality between Isaac and I. We truly had nothing going on anymore. As much as I still wanted him back. But until I found an opportunity to talk to him again, this state of silence between us would remain.

"I just wanted to tell you because I felt like I should be honest with you," I said. "And I didn't want there to be any misunderstandings between us."

There was a moment of silence as Cyril seemed to take in everything I've said. My heart thumped in my chest. I didn't know whether it was from anticipating Cyril's response or it was just a physical reaction to what I've just said.

"Is that why he brushed you off so brusquely at that time?" my boyfriend asked, seemingly trying to put the pieces together. "You know, the time when me and him fought and he accidentally hit you?"

"Oh, right," I said, after hesitating for a bit. "Yeah."

"Then what about you tutoring him?" he asked. "It must be hard trying to keep civil with someone you've fallen out with."

"It wasn't that hard, really," I muttered, fidgeting with my fingers in front of me. "His brother asked me for a favour, so I did. He was Alicia's boyfriend after all."

"So you were with him before you were with me?" Cyril asked.

Sure, he was curious. And he had the right to be. But honestly I never expected him to ask so many questions. It was forcing my waltz into a stumble, and I couldn't risk it. I have said more than enough, and Cyril seemed pretty satisfied with whatever I had told him. I didn't need to expose myself to further holes in the story.

"Yeah," I said, adjusting my hair. "Anyway, I don't really wanna talk about it."

Cyril seemed a bit taken aback, before sinking back into his seat.

"Sorry about prying," he apologised. "It's just that. . . I don't know, I just can't help myself trying to know more about you."

"It's fine," I told him, as I flashed him a smile.

Though I couldn't help but wonder, would Cyril still love me if he knew who I truly was? If he knew how I really was inside?

But that didn't matter did it? There was only one person whom I cred about, and right now, he wouldn't even look at me. I could rationalise all that I wanted, that Isaac wasn't worth it. I could try to get myself to get angry at him. I could try to tell myself that I should stay focused on the actual goal. But the heart wanted what it wanted.

As I sat there with Cyril, the truth gnawed away at my bleeding heart. The truth that I had been trying to suppress with pretty lies. The truth that I had been trying to ignore by distracting myself with Cyril's pretty eyes.

The truth that deep inside, I was truly alone.