Chapter 18

Are you in?

(Unedited)

I grabbed Christian's hand in the ambiguous moment of inertia switch-hit. Had I been ready for what I intended to say? The momentum of saying yes to being a boyfriend is how I should convey deeper thought before giving the middle finger to my parent's religious beliefs.

Before I turn to another page, that's waiting to be written.

"We're in the bathroom. Why?" Christian asks conveniently as I lock the door behind us. Leaving me to believe if it worked that way in movies, it would so conveniently work for me to spill the words I needed to say. Then again, in young adult books or shows, a steamy make-out session ensues before or during and I didn't want that in any shape or form.

"Cobain stayed up late and played Mario Kart," I tell him as words from biographies I had read spilled like water in front of him. I shouldn't even be saying this stuff to him; let alone in the bathroom where anyone walking by could hear what we're saying. "I shouldn't be nervous," I say instead. Compared to how I had announced to the school that Christian was attractive, I now stood with a few inches between us, completely afraid.

When Christian steps closer, I can smell his cedarwood scented body spray. My heart beats faster as I know I should convey deeper and tell him exactly what I'm thinking. However, the bell breaks the spell. I got ready to move towards the door when he wrapped himself around me. "I get it," he tells me, as he lays his chin on my shoulder.

"We're going to be late for class," he tells me, though neither one of us shows any hurry to move. This was exactly like those exaggerated hopeless teenage love stories, and now I doubted every stereotype media had set me up for.

"What I'm trying to say is," the words of the first part of the sentence spew out of my mouth like a kid who wanted to say, "it wasn't me. It was him" when a parent catches them instead of the sibling. If I finished that sentence now, there would be no turning back. No perfect characteristic flaws and self-development. "I want," I characteristic dramatic pause I hadn't planned on having happened.

"Jesus, Hemsworth, do I have to spell it out for you or scream it in your face?" Christian avows as he leans back up against a sink, with his arms folding underneath each other. "I wouldn't scream, but I think we have something here," he adds as the second bell goes off; now confirming we're late, needing a good excuse as to we'd need a late pass after this.

We had been right. I was certain of the profound and ordained chemistry between us. I should acknowledge it, accept it. Kiss him as Philip and Lukas had multiple times, as Lukas remained in the closet to everyone but Philip in Eyewitness. Somehow, one of the biggest TV ships besides Wilhelm and Simon that I supported hadn't comforted me much as I hoped as reality had hit.

"You're right. I believe we have chemistry. It's knotted and messed up," I tell Christian as the truthfully acknowledged reality spilled out of my mouth. Was this how teens acknowledged they liked someone they may or may not have chemistry with?

"It's not that messed up honestly," Christian tells me as more never-ending anxiety leads to overthinking of what I want to say "Then just ask yourself are you in?" he adds before unlocking the door and heading for a class he was now late for because of me.

*****

I had every perpetual insecurity as to how I could respond to this. The repeated scenario of how this would play out as I remain frozen in the bathroom. I needed to get to class, but what would be the point now? I was already late for class, something that would give me a tardy mark. A student who had been so worried about failing a required class, now receiving their rank lowering standards.

The lyrics of Glycerine ran through my ears as though to taunt me for how I should be feeling. Christian was the male lead in the cliched teen dramas where they end up showing up at the door of their love interest during the pouring rain as rain drips off the hoodie of the one confessing.

That is what I should have been feeling as we stood there talking. If this was my chance at a Netflix limited series, I was failing it. Where was the best friend that needed to give me life advice when I needed it? Because right now would be the time for me to replay how I had enough motion: A wonder drug, a sense of Nirvana. Anything to get me to tell him exactly what I should be saying.

"You look like you could use chocolate," I hear the singsong voice of Simon as he breaks me from my thinking process. A blissful disguise. Before I can say anything, he's already broken a piece off for me as a song changes in my earbud, telling my emotions how to work.

"Professor Lupin said that chocolate makes you feel better, didn't he?" I ask. My immaculate Harry Potter acknowledgment comes full force as Simon throws my youth past my way as I sit there staring at another blank canvas.

"I think I like someone," I blurted out to him before I could stop myself after I took a bite of the chocolate mixed with almonds. The chocolate mixes into my emotions as I try to work around it as I break the mould that has already started cracking.

"You don't have to know. Liking someone and emotions can take time," Simon tells me as he pulls out his phone after hearing a notification go off, as I'm fearing it's something like me kissing Christian or anything of that matter. I would die, even if that had seemed ‌ dramatic. I lose comfort as he puts his phone away and looks my way.

My entire body froze as I expected the worst, as he went silent. Something that seemed out of place for Simon, as the tension drifted apart from what we had just been talking about. I was certain that I liked Christian, as I had just confirmed it with Simon.

I was all in before I could analyze fact versus fiction.

****

Was Simon right? Feelings take time to endure as you work through the maze at play? The answer was a repeated metronome telling me what I had already known. The next step was for me to prove I would not chicken out and tell him I was in. Hell, if I could look up photos of Luke Hemmings wearing glitter and sporting curly blonde hair and blue eyes giving me hardcore boyfriend vibes. I was certain I could find the right words to say.

Was I even Christian's type? I'd never been down this road before, but now I wasn't certain for sure, but if there was one thing I had learned from Reddit, take the plunge. The song on my playlist changes as the momentum of courage changes. On cue, the all familiar ping goes off on my phone.

My heart beats more than it should as I click on my screen. It was now or never as I stand locked and loaded.

My courage endeavours by the moment, as I hesitate longer than I should. Wasn't this the moment I had been waiting for? The moment I was going to tell Christian I was all in. When I realised what this chemical love infested reaction was, I had figured out that a school classroom was not the place for it. Unless I had been in chemistry; a class that I wouldn't take until later on as it would pertain to a requirement for MIT.

The sound of unconfirmed first love set in.

That; I was sure of it. Crushes, feelings, and love are all a rollercoaster of emotions and efforts. When the chemistry is involved, it's an enormous explosion of fireworks, which neither said person is ready for.

Was that what it was, though? Chemistry and not a word used in most common extensions unless a basic or moralised affection has been formed and created. Much unlike the exercised balances that teach you in classrooms or what your parents tell you if you talk to them about relationships or worse, the awkward mention of sex.

The moralised idea honestly scared me as I related to the mistakable lyrics of Panic Switch as the words pertained exactly to how I felt without realising it. A moment of empathy and irony meshed together.

***

The moment I got home, I rushed right up to my room to get whatever feeling drug I had in my system to ‌mend it, and I was sure any former drug addict could relate. On second thought, I wasn't sure; I had known no former or current drug addict.

Once again I went to Reddit for ideas on how to tell Christian what hi his monster among men had already been sure of. Lil Nas X's cover of Jolene runs through my headphones in this process. This had to be perfect, as I scroll through ideas. Only to come up short when I lose interest in the ideas Reddit placed in their forums.

Not sure if I was getting depressed or not, I for the first time, walked out to the living room to have a conversation with my fathers Jesus on the cross; honestly I wasn't sure what to ask of it or him. Was I even supposed to ask these things?

"Heavenly Father. Jesus. Saint Holy Father," I begin as I say the first three names I could think of. I hadn't prayed to a religious value since I was a kid and I wasn't sure that I was doing this correctly, as it seemed they had already caught me kissing Christian. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but in your views, am I not supposed to like Christian? I suppose I could see him as a boyfriend and if I need your approval, then I get it," I tell the ceramic figure that I was sure many people had.

Then wondering, who the hell asks for permission in this generation? If you like someone, then fucking like them. It wasn't exactly rocket science. I had always accepted my sexuality, so why did it bother me so much now?

With no invisible approval of a ceramic figurine that has apparently given my father the righteous dreams of life, I rush upstairs to my room. I had finally come up with an idea that would surely show Christian I was in. If I could announce to the school that Christian is attractive, I could surely muster up my courage.

This was it.

As a pop song that I was sure would get my parents cursing my name to Hell, I wonder what I could add to this. No doubt my insecurities began racing to get to the finish line first. Christian's never-ending positivity attitude waiting as I record myself on my phone. Something I was ‌going to regret, or finally feel better saying.

"This might be the caffeine talking," I begin as I dance around the bedroom, exposing an old poster of one of my favourite bands from when I was a kid. With timed preference, I roll my eyes like that memory, then decide to do a remake of the iPod happy dance I had done a while bad. Before the time that he had called me cute. "You're the Sam to my Dean," I say, only to realise what I had just said. Then corrected me quickly, in case he hadn't known that they were brothers; then fixed it to say that he was my Philip to my Lukas.

As I realised where this was going, I wrap it up. "Point is; I'm in. Are you?" I ask before I end the video. I wasn't sure which end of my feelings this was going to lead to as I post it to my Instagram feed. Knowing only time would tell as I turn off my phone, and tossed it on the bed.

"I was wondering how long it would take?" I hear the familiar voice of Dryden and once again I freeze.