Chapter 22

I’m a hostage of my own humanity

(Unedited)

My brain is compromising the adrenaline of wanting to know what the notification is as both of us are now laying beside each other with poignant awkwardness. It wasn’t the fact that we were mere seconds away from having sex, it was the redundant timing of the notification. 

“An Instagram notification isn’t that bad,” Christian tells me, making an attempt to talk about the situation at hand. “My aunt could’ve walked in,” he adds as he sits up on the bed, leaning against his pillows. 

He had been right. What person wants to get caught in the middle of having there first sexual encounter? No one. Though I was certain enough that the ceramic figure my father had on the bookshelf would know about it, and this was some sign that he didn’t want me to have sex with Christian, now or anytime soon. What if I had been wrong though? What if this was the moral punishment of telling him I wouldn’t wait for his approval.  I hadn’t even had the talk with my parents and I would be too embarrassed to do so now.

“Maybe Yahweh or my fathers God is,” I start and bite my lower lip at the thought. I didn’t know Christian’s religious factor and maybe now wouldn’t be the time to bring it up. Maybe it was though. My religious trauma would probably have to do with this. The world has over a million religions and society says we must follow one and stick with it. 

“Jesus Luke, no God isn’t punishing you if that’s what you’re thinking,” he tells me as I feel his arms wrap around me again. “You’re human. Why should someone's beliefs punish you for that?” he asks as he kisses my cheek, then hugging me tighter. Maybe these were the words I had needed to hear for so long. 

Had I heard those words when I was younger and confessed to having a crush on Mitchell I would have been denied who I was by his father by orders of an unorthodox person and or religion from seeing me for who I am. Should I bring that up with Christian now that we are on the subject? It’s the anxiety of talking about something so simple, and having it be so hard. Maybe it's a complicated version of a traumatic event or mental health factor and it’s something I can’t shake. 

“I’m a hostage of my own humanity,” I tell Christian without thinking about what I had wanted to say. I had told someone. I told Dryden, and in any failing second my parents could know. I outed myself over a comment towards Christian. My fear was exactly what the text had involved. My finger being the trigger to sliding across and opening it. 

“You’re also the one who told the entire hallway I’m attractive,” Christian so happily points out as he grabs my phone from out of my hand. “Maybe I should make a TikTok and post it for everyone to see,” he adds as he keeps my phone hostage as he wraps himself around me, his lips teasing another kiss. My lips sank into his, as I was sure that it would make up for holding my phone hostage; not sure if he was serious about posting the video or not. I was hoping that he wouldn’t. That would be considered outing myself and him; wouldn’t it? I wasn’t sure and I didn’t want to find out. 

“I’ll text you when I get working on the physics stuff,” Christian tells me as he drops me off at the end of my driveway. The faint sound of eighties hair metal playing on his speakers. My mind's telling me to say something that doesn't rash or stupid and that I should be used to whatever he says by now. With the notification still weighing on my mind I don’t know what else to say or do. 

“Maybe I’ll video call instead,” I told him. Maybe it was the only thing I could think of as I hugged him on his side of the car, hoping that my parents weren’t watching, or could tell who it was. The words I deeply wanted to say sitting on the edge of my tongue until we broke apart and I headed in the direction of the house, as I sent a silent prayer to whichever religion worked in the prayer department. Had I really wanted to say that I would video call him? Does anyone even call it that anymore? With that I grab my phone and send him an over cliched smiley face emoji then wait for the response that would come later. 

***

In the pickings for the final chapter of The Lord of the Flies I hear the all familiar ping of Christian’s text message. I should pick up the phone and tell him that my final English book assignment is due and I need to finish it. On the other hand, in most teenage cases, the homework is always second when it comes to love and crushes and prosperity. 

I click on the text window that holds his name to contemplate on whether to text him or not as the bubbles with each letter of the texting alphabet bounce up and down, then I stop and erase everything I had written. Why? I shouldn’t have been worried or insecure about what I had wanted to send him. Had I known what was going to happen next I should have prepared myself or at least looked at what I had said when I looked back at the screen. 

Maybe I had been thinking about what Christian and I were talking about or maybe it had been the fact that I had yelled at Dryden. The pressure of knowing that being on social media I did something I wasn’t sure what the end result would be as I placed my earbud in my ear, clicking the record on TikTok as I spoke the words I had wanted to say. Whatever happens next, I was hoping to be prepared for as I lay my secret out there. 

***

When I saw Christian’s text the next morning, a pang of guilt for falling asleep on him hit me. I was supposed to do homework with him, instead I did the complete definitary. Quickly getting over it I text him. Downstairs I can hear my parents talking about something, or possibly about me attending something against my will if it involves a family outing. 

“That boy has got to realise he’s a male,” I hear my father protest to my mother. That sentence sent a feeling I didn’t want in my stomach. Knowing that he was talking about Christian made it worse. They had only seen him once, how could they now be talking about him? Maybe they had seen me wearing it when Christian had placed some on me those weeks ago. Had Dryden told them about Christian? 

Instead of cutting in and standing up for Christian, the only logical thing I could ask was “Who wears makeup?” My brain kicking me for asking such a stupid question, while not wanting to know the answer he had been talking about. 

“That friend of yours. I’ve seen him around sporting his makeup,” my father tells me, the memory of when I was a kid stinging in my mind when he had done the same thing. The way he shows his hatred for men wearing makeup stings deeper now that it had when I was a kid. Now was my time to tell him everything that I felt. I should fall apart, tell both my parents that I had worn it as well. Kissed the boy, almost fucked the boy, yet the words still stick in my throat. 

“His name is Christian,” I announce as both of my parents look at me shocked that I dare call him by his name. “He’s really not that bad, at least Jesus doesn’t think so,” I add, not really sure why I had added the religious value into this. It had nothing to do with who he was or what you learn when you’re a kid in a religious spectrum. Sometimes, you just need to let it out. 

“Luke, please don’t talk to your father like that,” my mother pleads with me, as though I was a child who hadn’t grown up yet, our ways of figuring out how to communicate with one another. Maybe she was right, maybe I shouldn’t have talked to him like that, but I wanted to correct my father and say his name was Christian. 

“All I said was his name is Christian,” I tell my mother as calmly as I could, just as my phone notifies me that I have a text message. Probably Dryden, at least for once I hoped that it was, but now wouldn’t be the time to check or text back. Another notification, this time, knowing that it wasn’t Dryden. 

In the cliched format of an overplayed teenage drama plotline, I was relieved that my parents let me off so easily. For now anyways, while also knowing that this conversation wasn’t over this quick, and they’d be praying that Christian finds his way around to redemption soon. Shrugging that thought out of my system as they get to the jeep, I smile. A real genuine smile that even Ellie Goulding would be proud of. 

Sitting there together in the jeep I can only replay what had happened in the house. Why would God, faith and humanity care at all what Christian and I had done? Weren’t we allowed to be who we were meant to be in one form or another? I want to ask him but swallow the thought as I get ready to ask it.

“Linda wants to know if you’re interested in” Christian announced proudly as though he knew what the answer would be as he started to smile, a casual Christian smile. 

“Linda wants to know?”I ask, sounding confused, that he’d use his guardian’s name instead of his for whatever it was they had wanted to know if I had wanted to be interested in. With Halloween coming  up, could it have been that? Whatever it was, I was sure that I would be interested. 

“She wanted to know if you’d be interested in volunteering at the library's Trunk or Treat,” he asked me, seeming relieved that he had asked like he was supposed to for his guardian. “I’ll be there and we will give out candy. That kind of deal,” Christian adds, giving me more detail than what I needed in case I wasn’t sure what he and Linda had asked me to. 

“Can I tell Linda myself that I’m interested?” I ask him before cutting Dolly Parton off by opening the jeep door and grabbing my bag from out of the back, the crisp autumn air attacking my face, something for living in New England I'm used to, but not ready for the winter air that will soon follow as we walk towards the school entrance together.  

“She’ll be ecstatic,” Christian tells me before parting ways when we reach my locker as I make a mental note to go to his house after school instead of home. I’d give myself some time before going home to face whatever was coming my way. 

“It sounds like you’re already planning something up,” I tell Christian as students who already collected their stuff for class, head in their classes directions. “Not that, that’s a bad thing,” I add quickly as I dial the combination of my lock, my earbud playing a song I hadn’t heard before. 

“Maybe I am. I’m all about the aesthetic, you’re all about Star Wars. It’s a win-win,” he tells me as he rolls his eyes quickly, then quickly steals a kiss on my cheek as the hallway stood empty in the moment, his lips leaving a warm spot on my cheek. There was no doubt that I was now falling  in love with Christian, and what a wildfire it was. 

“I’ll shoot Linda a text, see you in class,” Christian tells me, placing his hand on my shoulder before walking towards his first class of the day. I turn back to my locker, grabbing my sketchbook, and trig book. That way I wouldn’t have to come back later, saving myself a few steps until lunch. 

“Are you dating him now?” I hear the sharp voice of Dryden before shutting my locker. What would I tell him? What business was it of his anyways? I didn’t have to justify myself to him; friend or not. My answers cling inside my head as I try to come up with the obedient answer for him. 

I really was an ironic hostage of my own humanity either way you looked at it, and no matter what reality I’m in I was stuck, nickels and dimes sure wouldn’t help being the card that you gambled, which led back to my questions I had wanted to ask Christian earlier until I came up with an answer. “What if I am?” before the bell rings and I head in the direction of English Lit, not looking back at Dryden.