by Rhys Everly
“Nathan,” he called out behind me, and as he caught up with me, I looked to the skies and raised an eyebrow at God. “I know you’re mad. I know I’m a jerk. But I didn’t set that gym on fire. You gotta believe me.”
I did. But only because I’d seen him.
“I know I treated you bad, but you have to believe that I never lied once since prom,” he said.
“So what? Am I supposed to believe that when you tried to kiss me that night it wasn’t so you and your friends could make fun of me? That it was your way of coming out to me? That you’re a faggot, too?”
The word they’d thrown at me every single day tasted bitter in my mouth, but I wanted to make a point.
“I-I…” Hudson stuttered, but nothing came out.
“Exactly,” I said, putting an end to this torturous meeting before I started feeling sorry for him.
Or start picturing what his kiss really would be like.
I needed to book a doctor. Get my head checked out. Because I was definitely not in my right mind to be having these thoughts.
Hudson reluctantly stepped back, and I walked away from him. Again.
I was almost out of earshot when he shouted back at me.
“I was. I am.”
I stopped in my tracks and turned around to stare at him.
What did he mean he was? Was I hallucinating now? Had he punched me in the face and this was all a dream?
Did he mean he was gay? He couldn’t be. Why would he turn his back on me and bully me all through high school if he was gay, too?
He was lying.
Yeah, of course he was.
When he tried to kiss me at prom, it was only to prove a point. He’d been drunk. He wanted to show his bully friends they were right to harass me.
He wasn’t really gay.
Was he?
“I’m sorry,” he shouted, but I’d had enough.
I gave him the middle finger and turned my back on him. Like he did seven years ago when I came out to him.
I put as much distance between him and I as I could.
Hudson was not gay.
He was a douchewaffle and the biggest loser I ever had the displeasure of knowing.
And he didn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt.
There was no amount of apologies or excuses that would ever make me forgive him.
Six
Hudson
I’d never have expected to find Nathan in my tutor’s seat. It was like fate was nudging me to apologize for what I did.
Well, I’d tried that, but it wasn’t good enough, and I knew it.
Just shouting sorry from afar didn’t undo the harm I did him. I needed to properly apologize. Explain why I did what I did, even though the reasons didn’t matter.
When I tried to kiss him at prom night? I’d been working up to that moment for four months.
And when he came out to me all those years ago, I didn’t know what to do with the information. Dad had always been shouting about something, whether it was the gays, or black people, or the immigrants.
I didn’t know then that what I felt for Nathan wasn’t just a friend’s love. I didn’t know that I was gay. Yeah, in retrospect, I’d always liked boys. But I didn’t know what that feeling was.
I thought it just meant I wanted to be their friend, get to know them. I didn’t know I wanted to kiss them.
Or more accurately, him.
Nathan.
I didn’t know I’d been in love with him all my life then.
It took losing him—and finding myself—to realize.
If only I hadn’t run off at prom night, maybe my life would be different. I could have stayed and convinced Nathan I wasn’t lying. I could have apologized for my behavior.
And I wouldn’t be the number one suspect for that stupid fire.
But even though the police couldn’t prove I was the one who set fire to the school gym, it didn’t mean the entire town didn’t have its own ideas about it.
It was my lighter they found at the scene, after all. I’d run off. No one had seen me for hours, and my only witness was Dad. And no one liked him.
It had to be me, right?
Well, no.
The guy who’d set the fire was living a life of luxury and privilege, and I was still stuck in the same place I’d been all my life.
But when even your own father didn’t believe you, how could you trust anyone else to see the truth.
And Dad didn’t fail to tell me what a disgrace I was ever since. I’d cost him work. Clients.
So much shit went through my head, so many alternate scenarios, so many dreams and wishes, I could have written a book.
If I knew how to write, that was.
All I needed was someone to save me. Because it seemed I couldn’t save myself.
Dad was a non-starter.
Mom had left me, so there was no chance she was coming back to save me now.
All my grandparents were dead, so unless angelic intervention was a thing, there was a fat chance of them helping me.
I just needed out of that god-forsaken town and its small-minded people.
Funny I would call them that when I’d been small-minded all my life.
“So? You a doctor yet?” Dad asked the moment I stepped into the house.
“Shut up, Dad,” I said.
“You watch that tone with me, boy. What happened? Did the poor little girl have enough of you already? Or are you that clever you’re going to be a scientist? What kind of son am I gonna get?”
The kind of son that hates you and never wants to be a part of your life ever again.
I couldn’t say that out loud, could I?
I would one day. One day, just before I left this house for good, I’d turn around and tell him how I felt. Tell him what I really thought of him. But until that day…
“You’re helping me pick apples tomorrow,” he said.
“I’m working tomorrow, Dad.”
“I don’t care if you’re working or not. This farm is your job. It’s going to be yours one day. And when you fail to get your high school diploma, you’ll realize that. You were born a farmer, boy. There’s no point wasting your time in the city.” He went on and on, but I ignored him and climbed the stairs to my room.
Romeo sprang up the moment he saw me, but I was in no mood to play.
I carried him to bed and just… cried.
Cried all the tears I’d been holding all day. For everything that was wrong with my life. Starting with what a terrible person I’d been to Nathan. And letting the guy living downstairs dictate my life.
Was he speaking the truth? Was I going to be a farmer, meant to live like that for the rest of my life?
Work would soon realize I was useless and couldn’t do the job I was getting paid for. Even if it was the simplest job in the world.
Nathan had refused to tutor me, of course. So good luck to me finding another tutor.
Maybe it was about time I accepted my fate and gave in. I was destined to spend my life on this rotten farm and live in a town that hated me.
There was no escape for a guy like me.
I cried myself to sleep, Romeo desperately trying to make me feel better by licking my face.
When I opened my eyes again, it was almost midnight and my eyes were crusty from the tears that had dried out.
Romeo had long abandoned me, finding solace in his own bed, chewing one of my shoes.
“Not that shoe, Romeo. I was gonna wear that at the reunion,” I said and tried to snatch it away from him, but he growled at me, so I left him to destLinc the only good thing I had in this house.
I went down to the kitchen, grabbed a can of Cola, and made myself a grilled cheese sandwich.
Dad was passed out on the couch, again, the space around him littered with junk and beer bottles.
He looked like a pathetic excuse for a human being.
Was that the kind of future ahead of me?
No, I refused to believe that. I re
fused to believe there was no salvation for me. I refused to. Because the minute I accepted that, my life would be over.
When I got back to my room, I looked at my phone and the thread of messages I’d exchanged with Nathan before I knew it was Nathan.
“I know I hurt you. And I’m truly sorry about that, even if you won’t believe me. I wish there was a way to prove it to you. I know I have no right to ask this of you, but you’re my only chance Nathan.”
I stopped typing and took deep breaths as I reread it. What did I tell him? That I was stuck? That I had no future? That I loved him? Now more than ever?
I chickened out.
I deleted the message and tried again.
“I know you won’t believe me but I’m sorry. I really am. You’re my last hope. Every tutor I’ve had bailed on me. I really need help to pass my GED and I’ve tried studying on my own but I can’t. Please Nathan. Help me.”
I pressed send before I could second guess myself. Rip the bandaid and all that jazz.
I watched my phone stay silent, dark and unresponsive.
Yeah. I didn’t know what I was expecting.
I opened Cinderfella five minutes later, my only escape until I could get out of here, and browsed the gallery of guys online.
A profile picture of an animated character caught my attention, and I opened to read the guy’s profile.
MrRomantic.
Online. New Harlow.
21 Years Old
5’ 8
Relationship Status: Single as a leaf in the wind.
Looking: For another leaf.
Position: Leaf Commander (obvs)
Body Type: Thin, veined, slightly withered
About Me: I’m a romantic leaf through and through. Okay enough with the leaf puns. Looking for Mr. Right. Not Mr. Right Now. So no hookup requests. Want pics? Well, meet me in person and see what I look like.
Interests: Beer, Drag Race, Basketball. In that order.
I looked at his profile picture, the painted rosy cheeks, the cute round face, the bright colors, and I couldn’t resist messaging him. I hadn’t seen him on the app before.
Sweet_Peaches: Well don’t you look cute! But are you sure you’re old enough to be on here?
I watched my message go from sent, to delivered, to read. Three dots started dancing on the bottom of the screen as the guy typed out his response.
MrRomantic: Lol. Trust me. I’m as legal as it gets.
Sweet_Peaches: I might need proof.
MrRomantic: You first.
Sweet_Peaches: What about my peachy picture tells you I’m not an adult?
MrRomantic: That’s a peach? I legit thought that was your crack.
I choked on my Cola and let out a chuckle. Romeo looked at me like I was an alien.
Sweet_Peaches: That’s the point. Lol.
I looked at my own profile pic and the deep close up of the very suggestive peach I’d picked a few weeks ago and laughed again.
MrRomantic: Well, point taken.
Sweet_Peaches: Did you make the cartoon?
MrRomantic: No. A friend’s mom.
Sweet_Peaches: Those are some serious skills. And what a way to stand out in between all the torsos.
MrRomantic: Likewise. I guess. Although I’d consider sexually suggestive pictures less inspirational.
Sweet_Peaches: Ouch.
MrRomantic: No offense. Lol
Sweet_Peaches: Too late for that. I am very offended.
MrRomantic: I have a remedy for that.
Sweet_Peaches: What is it?
MrRomantic: Uhm… Get over it?
Sweet_Peaches: …
Sweet_Peaches: Wow! That worked. Thanks.
MrRomantic: You’re most welcome.
Sweet_Peaches: Am I?
MrRomantic: We’ll see about that.
Sweet_Peaches: Let me know what the verdict is.
MrRomantic: You’ll be the first to know. Trust me.
Sweet_Peaches: What are you doing up anyway?
MrRomantic: Kinda hard to sleep when your roommate is screwing his boyfriend.
Sweet_Peaches: Nice. Getting a good view?
MrRomantic: Lol. No. And ew.
Sweet_Peaches: So I guess your evening isn’t going great.
MrRomantic: Going better than my day tbh.
Sweet_Peaches: Ha. Tell me about it.
MrRomantic: Sorry you had a crappy day.
Sweet_Peaches: Sorry you had a crappy day, too.
Sweet_Peaches: But you know what they say.
MrRomantic: What do they say?
Sweet_Peaches: Tomorrow is a new day.
MrRomantic: Amen.
We chatted a while longer until I finished my sandwich and drank my Cola, then we said our good nights and I laid in bed re-reading our chat.
MrRomantic was funny. And easy to talk to.
I hadn’t had someone easy to chat with in a long while. Let’s just hope he didn’t run for the hills when I told him I wasn’t interested in meeting him in person.
It was nothing personal. I didn’t do online dating. Or dating of any kind.
Not after my first attempt when I went to the allocated place and found the guy I was supposed to be meeting with was one of the store owners on Main Street.
I ran before he spotted me, and I hadn’t tried it since. I couldn’t take the risk while I still lived at this house. In this town.
And New Harlow wasn’t far enough to even try the dating thing there.
It was way too close to home.
I kept switching from my chat with MrRomantic to my text message to Nathan, hoping he’d responded and I’d missed the notification.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.
“Hudson! Come on, son. Time to go to work,” Dad boomed from the bottom of my stairs, and my eyes shot open.
What the hell? Why were we going to the orchard at midnight?
Looking at my phone gave me the answer I was looking for.
It seemed as though I hadn’t closed my eyes for a few moments, but I’d closed them for a few hours. Five to be exact.
But it wasn’t just the time that shocked me when I looked at my phone.
It was also the preview message from Nathan’s number that had come not long after midnight. I must have been really tired not to hear it ring.
“Fine. But I can change my mind at any time, so don’t test me. Meet me tomorrow. Same time. Same place. You better not be wasting my time.”
I couldn’t believe it. He was actually taking a chance on me. My plea actually worked.
Maybe life was on my side for once.
“Come on. Those apples aren’t gonna pick themselves.”
But how awesome would it be if they did?
I replied to Nathan that I was serious and would meet him later today, sent a good morning to MrRomantic, and then I joined Dad for some apple-picking before I had to go to my work in the city.
Dad’s abuse didn’t even bother me today. Because for once, it looked like things might be going my way for a change.
Seven
Nathan
I was crazy.
I knew it.
Why on earth would I have accepted the challenge of tutoring Hudson if I wasn't?
What the hell had they given me at the restaurant last night? I needed to google what kind of poisons made someone delusional.
MrRomantic: I have a feeling today is gonna be shit.
I messaged Sweet_Peaches. If there was anyone to blame for being stupid and accepting the challenge, it was this anonymous guy with the peach for a profile picture.
He’d made me laugh and feel important, and he definitely ticked two of my boxes.
Funny? Check.
Thoughtful? Check.
He’d even sent me a good morning message that put a smile on my face.
And it was because of him I decided to give Hudson a chance.
Not because I loved a challenge. Much like Kyle.
Not because I wanted t
o believe there was still some of my best friend in that bully.
And definitely not because I wanted to find out if he was indeed gay.
Sweet_Peaches: Oh no. Why? What's happening today?
I started typing but changed my mind before I hit send.
There was absolutely no reason to give all the details away to a stranger I’d never met.
I mean, sure, he was funny and thoughtful, but he could be a stalker for all I knew. Or a psychopath.
MrRomantic: I'm meeting a guy I hate.
Sweet_Peaches: Why are you meeting him if you hate him?
MrRomantic: Don’t ask.
Sweet_Peaches: Don't let anyone ruin your day.
MrRomantic: I'll try not to.
Sweet_Peaches: That's the spirit.
Sweet_Peaches: If it’s any consolation, I’m terrified about how my day is gonna go.
MrRomantic: Aw, why are you terrified? Don’t be terrified.
Sweet_Peaches: It’s a long story. But thanks :) .
MrRomantic: Maybe you can tell me one day over beer.
Sweet_Peaches: Yeah. Maybe.
How this guy managed to put a smile on my face with nothing but two words, I didn’t understand.
He just seemed to… get me. It was stupid because I didn’t even know what the man looked like or how old he was—his profile was as bare as anything I’d seen—but I felt like I was talking to Kyle or Maya.
MrRomantic: I gotta go now, but I hope you have a beautiful day.
MrRomantic: And don’t be terrified.
MrRomantic: If I’m not allowed to let anyone ruin my day, you’re not allowed to let anyone or anything terrify you.
Sweet_Peaches: Deal.
Sweet_Peaches: Keep me in the loop with your meeting. Is there such a thing as blowing off steam via text?
MrRomantic: Uhm…duh. It’s called venting.
Sweet_Peaches: Duh!
Sweet_Peaches: So feel free to vent away.
I laughed and put my phone down before jumping in the shower.
Right after Martin—roommate—and Robin—roommate’s boyfriend—came out.
