Conventionally Yours (True Colors)

by Annabeth Albert

  “And he yells a lot.” Alden’s voice was quiet, but it wasn’t a question.

  “Yeah. He does. He’s not… I don’t think he means it. Like, he isn’t violent.” I didn’t mention the occasional smashed dish. Don’t tell, Conrad. He doesn’t mean it. It was only a bad day. I’ll clean it up. My mom’s pleas rang in my ears as even now I was still making excuses for him.

  “Still doesn’t make it okay.” Alden sounded ready to go to battle with my dad, voice taking on that same tone he used right before waxing an opponent.

  “It’s okay,” I lied. The darkness outside seemed to stretch to infinity, the occasional glow of headlights not enough to counter the overall mood of desolation. “I probably deserved some of it. And he’s never going to forgive me, so there’s no point in trying to contact Mom or the girls. It’ll just make trouble for them.”

  “Forgive you for being gay? What the heck? That’s profoundly unfair.” His indignation would have been cute if I hadn’t been so down, trapped in my own feelings. For once, I was glad we were in the slow lane, plodding along behind a row of semis. Zooming past all these memories would be almost worse.

  “No. Not for being gay. Or at least not entirely that.” I groaned, knowing the whole story was about to tumble out—the real one, the one that not even the professors had heard all of. “There was this guy…”

  “He wanted you to come out?” Alden prodded when I trailed off, unable to find the words after all.

  “No. Yes. I don’t know.” I groaned. “I mean I already was out on campus. You know that. Hell, you probably know this kid too. Angelo. Short, Italian guy from Chicago?”

  “He’s not unfamiliar to me. Big mouth. Followed you around. Always wanted to break the campus rules about alcohol at sponsored parties.”

  “Yup. That’s the one. Anyway, we hooked up a few times. Nothing serious.” Guilt churned in my gut. Alden wasn’t wrong about Angelo following me around. I’d kinda known he was more into me than I was him, but I’d liked his attention, hadn’t thought there was any harm in encouraging it. Even before him, I hadn’t wanted a relationship, having had too much of my parents’ messed-up marriage to believe in love. But I had liked attention, liked playing the field, and liked running my damn mouth. “But we talked enough that he knew about this other guy. One from my high school who I used to hook up with on the sly.”

  “Another horror-movie fan?”

  “Something like that.” I laughed, but it was tempered by the knowledge that I probably shouldn’t have told Angelo about Dan, shouldn’t have teased him, shouldn’t have liked how his jealousy had made me feel. “Anyway, Dan went off to Nebraska after graduation, and I went to Gracehaven, so no hard feelings. We stayed friendly.”

  “That’s good.” Alden’s voice was cautious, but encouraging, as if he really did want to hear this whole stupid story.

  “It wasn’t bad.” Or at least it wouldn’t have been, had I been able to keep my stupid mouth shut. “But anyway, I came back early to campus last summer. Angelo and I got drunk one night, and we were…uh…fooling around with my camera phone. If you know what I mean?”

  “I can guess. Go on.”

  “Anyway, I eventually went to sleep, but Angelo stayed up. And I still don’t entirely understand why, but he thought he’d text Dan with my phone. Send him some of the pictures we took. Sort of a…taunt, I guess.”

  “That’s a terrible way to tease someone.” Alden had all the righteousness of someone who’d never fucked up before, the sort of guy who never let emotions get the better of him, but the disapproval he had for Angelo was also gratifying. “Even if he thought it would make your friend jealous, that’s just wrong. And an invasion of privacy.”

  “Agreed. But Angelo has impulse issues.” Even now I still made excuses, much as I did for my dad, but with Angelo it was tempered by the knowledge that I played a role here, had encouraged him too much. “Anyway, he was probably still buzzed, and instead of Dan, he texted the entry above it, the one for Dad, but it wasn’t just Dad—it was a group text with a bunch of relatives. So they all got the pictures. And I woke up to my phone blowing up. Dad was livid. And the rest…” I sighed, eyes squeezing shut. “Guess I deserved it. Encouraging his crush. Egging on his jealousy over Dan. Getting drunk. Taking pictures I knew I probably shouldn’t.”

  “You made an error in judgment. But that doesn’t mean you deserved your dad cutting you off. You didn’t deserve Angelo abusing your trust like that either. You’re not the one who hit Send.”

  “Thanks.” I liked that he didn’t sugarcoat it. Because it had been a judgment error for sure. And hearing him say that I didn’t deserve it warmed icy places that had frozen over that awful morning when everything had changed. “In Dad’s defense—”

  “There isn’t one,” Alden said firmly.

  “Well, I think he thought I’d give in quickly, head home, do what he wanted, do counseling or whatever shit he had planned to ‘cure’ me. First he cut off the phone. Then the car. And when I still didn’t give in, he went for the tuition that was due right then. That’s why financial aid had such a hard time helping me—there just wasn’t a lot of time.”

  “But you didn’t give in.”

  “Nope. Stayed in Gracehaven. At first I thought I’d just outlast him. Figured I was his kid and he’d have to care sometime. Then his health insurance dropped me. And I knew.” My voice dropped to a bare whisper. “Knew he really didn’t care how I was. I need my daily asthma meds. And they’re not cheap. But he didn’t care. He just wanted to be right, wanted to prove to his stupid relatives that he’d brought me in line. Didn’t care what it did to me in the process.”

  “Wow. That’s heartless.” Alden sounded as stricken as I felt.

  “And that’s why I can’t go home. Can’t let them know I’m close by, even. I don’t trust him not to use me seeing Mom or the girls as a reason to try to force me to do what he wants.”

  “Like kidnap you, you mean? I wouldn’t let him do that. You shouldn’t have to be scared to call your mom. I don’t care if he showed up with a team of ministers and so-called therapists. I still wouldn’t let them take you.”

  His vehemence soothed something raw and sore inside me. Back at Gracehaven, I’d had the professors looking out for me, but they hadn’t known the whole truth. I’d told them I’d come out to Dad, not the how. But Alden knew the entire story and still he defended me. And fearlessly too. Like my dad could bring an army, and Alden would defeat them all, one by one to keep me safe.

  “Thanks.” It was so inadequate for everything I was feeling, but it was all I could manage. “But I’m still not calling. I…” I squeezed my eyes so tight my face pinched, but it still wasn’t enough to stop the burning. “I’m not sure I could handle it if Mom didn’t answer. That’s what really kills me. I’d figured out that he was a ba—not a very nice person years earlier. But her going along with it…”

  I licked my parched lips.

  “Yeah. That would be the worst,” Alden agreed. “I mean, I get panic attacks too. I get her being afraid. But still. She’s your mom.”

  “Yeah.” My heart hammered, everything I’d held back for the past year threatening to overflow. I took some deep breaths, but they didn’t help at all. If anything, they made it worse, reminding me of what it felt like to struggle for air.

  “Conrad.” His hand on my arm was my first clue that we’d stopped. At some point, he’d taken another exit, this one a middle-of-nowhere rural road, no civilization in sight. “Look at me. It’s going to be okay.”

  I wanted to believe him, but my soul felt as empty as the night around us, and I wasn’t sure when I’d ever get past this guilt and anger. “Not so sure.”

  “It will.” Alden’s voice had the sort of confidence I desperately needed right then. “You’ve made it this far without them. It’s their fault if they can’t see how cruel they’re bei
ng. But you, you’re doing awesome.” He didn’t say it with false cheer, the way a lot of people would, instead stating each word as a careful fact.

  “Doesn’t feel like it a lot of days,” I admitted, heart still pounding. “Barely hanging on. Dead-end jobs just to afford my meds. Missing my folks even as I hate them.”

  “I get that. You can’t simply stop loving someone.” He squeezed me, a tentative half hug that I leaned into as if I’d discovered a life raft in the middle of the Atlantic.

  “Thanks.” Him understanding was everything right then, everything I’d been craving for a year and not even realizing how much I’d needed to tell someone and to be heard. Be understood. And his face was right there, head resting against mine as he awkwardly tried to hold me.

  Not really sure what I was doing—only knowing that I was grateful and sad at the same time, and desperately wanting to feel something other than awful—I ghosted my mouth across his. His lips were soft and warm, a bulwark against the cold night, and I wanted to sink into him even as he pulled back. His retreat this time was unmistakable, and I instantly regretted the impulse.

  “Sorry—”

  “It’s okay,” he said, even though it clearly wasn’t.

  “No, it’s not. You deserve better than me falling apart on you.”

  “I don’t mind that. I’m…glad you told me. But you’re tired and upset and confused, and I’m…convenient. I don’t want to be convenient.”

  “I get that.” Guilt and shame gathered in my gut, made me shift in my seat. The last thing I wanted was to make someone who had been so cool to me feel used. “And you’re not.”

  But I didn’t move to kiss him again, not sure that would prove anything or help either of us. And when he headed back to the highway, I closed my eyes and faked sleep. Too much was churning in my head for actual sleep to claim me, my brain lurching between guilt and shame and anger over my family situation—all those regrets that had nowhere to go, and sweeter emotions that kept creeping in with memories of the near-kiss, how soft Alden’s lips had been, how much I’d wanted him in that moment. Not getting to know what he tasted like was another regret for the pile, and hell if I knew how to resolve it.

  Chapter Twenty

  Alden

  Conrad was faking sleep. I wasn’t an idiot—I could tell by the tension in his body, the unevenness of his breath, and the careful way he’d angled himself away from me. He might suck at pretending to be asleep, but his actual emotions were much harder to read. However, no matter what he’d been feeling, he’d definitely been looking for trouble when he’d tried to kiss me.

  And I still couldn’t believe I hadn’t let him. I wanted to kiss him, that much was certain. Even that glancing contact had been enough to have me craving more, more, more. But I also didn’t want to be the mistake he regretted later when he wasn’t sad and things were back to awkward between us. Casually awkward was preferable to outright avoidance. I wasn’t sure I could bear to see regret in his eyes, be one more thing he beat himself up over.

  But without Conrad speaking and with only memories of the kiss-that-wasn’t to torment me, it didn’t take long before my eyes were burning, and not simply with anger for Conrad’s sake. No, I was tired.

  “We need to think about stopping for the night.” I didn’t bother pretending that I was waking him up when I knew I wasn’t.

  “We could switch again.” He did an exaggerated stretch, keeping his fiction of napping going. “Do an all-nighter.”

  “Not prudent. If I fall asleep, who will keep you awake?” I was also concerned about his wrung-out emotional state, but I didn’t add that. I knew myself and knew how sleep could reset me after a big upset. I hoped it would work for him too. I’d do just about anything to take some of his pain away, make it hurt less. “And we promised Professor Tuttle and Professor Herrera that we’d take care of the car, not take stupid risks. We’ve already had one incident.”

  “Yeah, but we could find a rest stop, sleep in the car—”

  “Dangerous. Our best option is an inexpensive motel, then get an early start. I’ll set my phone this time. Can you see how far to the next motel?”

  “Okay.” Defeated, Conrad huffed out a breath as he reached for my phone in the console. “Emphasis on cheap.”

  It didn’t take him that long to find a suitable place at an upcoming exit. It wasn’t where we’d planned to stop, and we still had a good four hours to Denver in the morning, but the motel advertised free continental breakfast and looked clean if a bit dated from the outside. Conrad got the bags while I secured the room, and we met back up at the stairs. They were the exterior kind that led to a narrow covered walkway containing the doors leading to each room. It wasn’t my favorite style of motel by far, but it was close and cheap, so I tried not to complain.

  However, when I opened the door, I couldn’t help my groan. One bed. No wonder the room had been so cheap. It wasn’t a double.

  “Crap.” My anxiety started to ramp up, a shudder racing up my spine, flutters in my stomach. Apparently in no such panic, Conrad clapped me on the shoulder.

  “It’ll be okay. Made it work with Jasper, and he’s a roller.” Voice full of fake cheer, Conrad approached the bed and turned one pillow sideways, the same way he had with Jasper. Except I wasn’t Jasper, and I’d spent the whole day confused and vaguely excited, drawing closer to Conrad despite my best efforts. Further, he hadn’t tried to kiss Jasper, and even if he had, they’d had me as chaperone, a built-in wet blanket.

  We had just us and the kiss-that-wasn’t hanging between us, a big neon sign reminding me of what I couldn’t have. And even worse, Conrad still looked miserable—eyes puffy, skin pale, shoulders slumped. I was perilously close to volunteering to be his convenient thing, the thing that made him forget, even if only for a little while, but then he straightened as if he was zipping all his emotions up tight.

  “I’m going to shower. You want to set up the camera for opening those packs, or are you too tired to make content tonight?”

  “Tired.” It wasn’t a total lie, but really, I wasn’t sure I could continue to act normal around him, act like nothing had changed. “Is it okay if I shower in the morning?”

  “Sure.” Rummaging through his bag, he shrugged. Following Conrad’s shower, being in the same small, damp space where he’d been naked moments before, simply seemed unbearably intimate. When he headed to the bathroom, I changed quickly into flannel pants and a different T-shirt—a soft, faded one I’d slept in for years. This was the first time I’d given any thought to my bedtime attire, worrying that maybe the shirt was too old, the pants too thin, the—

  Stop. I tried to force the anxiety back into place. Stupid worries. It was me that wasn’t ready, not my clothes. Disgusted with myself, I climbed under the covers and flipped out the light on my side of the bed. Now it was my turn to fake sleep.

  I figured I was doing a pretty good job at that when Conrad tiptoed out of the bathroom a short while later and flipped off his own light even before he got in bed. The covers dragged across my torso as he settled. Weird. This sleeping-next-to-someone business was simply strange in so many ways, a type of social politics I’d never been very good at. For example, how much blanket was I entitled to? Was it rude to yank back my half that he just stole? Not to mention feet. His bumped mine several times as he shifted around, but I figured that pulling my feet back would make it obvious I was awake.

  Further, I could tell he was still awake, possibly even more so than in the car, because his side of the bed seemed to practically vibrate with an energy I couldn’t name, his breathing shallow, legs restless. And that restlessness was contagious, making my chest feel like a can of soda about to fizz over, making sleep impossible, and making my brain race with a jumble of random thoughts. Finally, I couldn’t stand it a second longer.

  “Are you still thinking about your family?” I whispered.
/>   “Wha—” He startled, rolling toward our pillow barrier. “No.” He flopped back against his side of the bed. “Okay. Yeah. Maybe a little. What’s your excuse? Why aren’t you asleep?”

  You. You’re my reason. But I didn’t want it to sound like I was blaming him for keeping me awake. Or worse, like a bad come-on that would make him laugh at me. So, instead, I lied. “I’m worried we’re too far behind schedule.”

  He scoffed. “You said it yourself. We’ll make up time tomorrow. Get an early start. Make the Denver stop a quick one.”

  “Yeah.” We both drifted back to silence, but I wouldn’t call it a comfortable one at all. As he shifted around again, his hand brushed my arm.

  “Whoops. Sorry.” He pulled it back across the pillow.

  “It’s okay.” I lacked the words and courage to tell him that I wouldn’t mind if he did it again. My arm tingled, but it was my brain that took longer to quiet, our earlier conversation weighing down on me. “Conrad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry about your family.”

  He was quiet a long minute before the bed moved, him rolling back toward the pillow. “Thanks.”

  That should have been it, the note to head to sleep on, but another thought that had been prickling at me kept me talking. “Earlier…when you said you didn’t want me to get hurt picking the wrong person, was that because you got hurt?” My limbs got strangely warm, thinking of him caring like that. And there was also that weird flare of jealousy again. “With Angelo? Like, heartbroken hurt?”

  “No.” He groaned. Relief surged through me, increasing at his resigned tone. “Not heartbroken. He was probably more into me than I was into him, and I feel guilty about that. I maybe encouraged him more than I should have. Ego trip. That’s probably part of why he tried to send the pictures. But I sure can pick them. Learn from me. Pick better.”

  “It’s not your fault. I know you think it is. But it’s not. It’s not you that messed up.”

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure it is.”