A Unique and Torn Romance

“It’s kinda messy at my house.” I snort a laugh. I can’t help it. That’s his big secret? I thought he’d finally admit his parents were freaks and actually belonged in this town, but I guess not.
“I know, but; it’s really messy.” I reach over and pet him on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry. I’ve been at Frank’s house more than once. His room is not just messy, but an actual junkyard.” I giggle a bit, while Bob only smiles. I hate to say it, but it looks kinda fake.
I don’t say anything. I just stare out the window as we keep driving. Soon, Bob pulls into a driveway to a simple, one-story house. Turns out he lives pretty close to the school. Why he drives is a huge mystery, especially since he’s a football player.

I unbuckle my seatbelt and open the door, but when Bob doesn’t move, I stop.
He just stares ahead at the closed gate to the backyard. He looks nervous and…sad. Like something’s really bothering him.

“What’s wrong?” He snaps out of his thoughts and inhales deeply as he turns his head towards me. When his eyes catch mine, his inhale stops abruptly. He looks scared.
He swallows hard.

“I’ve never had anyone over before.” I turn my head and look at the front door, then back at him.

“But Gerard used to come here-“ Not all the time.
“A lot last year.” I don’t know why I never came along. I guess I was too busy denying being gay.

“No, uhm.” Why’s he so nervous?
“I mean this year. A-after this summer.” I frown. I can’t help it. I’m utterly confused. I know he didn’t talk to Ray or Gerard or even Frank this summer, but I thought it was because he started hanging out with the zombies.
Bob looks in his rearview mirror and glares harshly.
“Let’s go inside,” he snarls, before he grabs his bag and gets out of his car. I get out of the car too and wait for him to lock it before he walks up to the front door. When he’s about to open, he turns around and looks down at me nervously.

He opens his mouth to say something, but stops himself. He sighs deeply, and then opens the door and steps in backwards.
I raise my eyebrows in confusion, before I step across the threshold. I turn right into the living room, but then I stop. I look around. Is this even the living room?
Bob comes up beside me and out of the corner of my eye, I can see that his head is hung low.

“What happened?” Gerard never told me about this, so I assume it hasn’t always looked like this.
Bob hesitates. He keeps opening and closing his mouth, while he looks around the room. All I can do is stare straight ahead at the small pile of pizza boxes next to the TV.

“My parents moved back to Chicago. They thought this town was too weird.” Slowly I tear my eyes away from the pile and look up at Bob instead. His head is still hung low, but I can clearly see the shame on his face.
“They took everything with them.”

“What about you?” The question just slips out.
Bob’s eyebrows lift up once, as if they shrug.

“They didn’t take me with them.” I frown.

“They left you?” This time, Bob shrugs with his shoulders.

“It was mutual.” I frown deeply. I try to get him to look at me by getting in his field of vision, but each time I try he only turns his head away. Eventually, I get tired of his evasion. I step in front of him, grab the sides of his face and gently bring up his face to look at me.
He glances down at my hands, and I let go. He’s about to evade my eyes, but I refuse to let his go. He stares at me.

“What happened?” I whisper. He looks at me with a blank stare. He only blinks a few times.

“I told them I was gay. They didn’t accept it.” He glances down at my chin, but quickly looks back into my eyes.
“When I told them I was gay, they said that I really did belong here among the freaks.” His breaths are slow and heavy, but his eyes are completely dry.
“So they left. And I stayed.” He bites his lip, before he finally finds the willpower to let go of my eyes and lower his head again. I look over his shoulder and see the empty bathroom across the hallway. There’s no shower curtain and no towels on the towel rack.

“So you live here alone?” My voice is still nothing but a whisper. It’s like if I talk any louder, the echo of the room will make this scenario all too real.
He nods.
I can’t stop myself as I reach forward and wrap my arms around him. It’s like a natural instinct – I just need to comfort him, even if he’s not crying.
After a few seconds and a few flinches from Bob, he slowly lifts his arms and wrap them around me, before he lets his head rest on my shoulder. I lay my head on his chest and feel his shoulders move as he breathes slowly.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper into the fabric of his t-shirt.

“It’s not your fault,” he whispers back. I can feel his breath on my shoulder.
Even though I know this isn’t my fault, I can’t help but feel guilty.

“I know.” I hug him tighter.
“But I’m still sorry.”
He slowly pulls away. He lifts his head up and pulls back. He’s still got his arms around my shoulders as he looks me in the eye.

“Come on,” he says and nods his head towards the hallway. He pulls away from me and walks away, and I can’t help but feel cold as we walk down the hall towards a door with a poster on it. When we turn into the room behind that door, the house immediately looks like a home again.
There’s a bed, a desk a dresser, a TV and a bunch of DVD’s. There’s a small stereo in the corner with a few CD’s surrounding it. There’re colored curtains in front of the window and a carpet on the floor.
Once Bob has closed his door, it actually feels like a home.
“Want something to drink?” I turn around and see him walk towards a mini-fridge next to his desk.

“Sure,” I say quickly. He crouches down and gets two cokes and before he gets up or even closes the fridge door he throws one at me. I catch it.

“Great catch.” I blush as I look down at the can and pick at the tap. Then I start feeling guilty again. How can he afford this? I shouldn’t be drinking something he might need later this week.

When I look up, Bob is doing the same – picking at the tap. He looks nervous.
This is awkward. I shouldn’t have invited myself. I should’ve just sucked it up and gone home. It’s not as bad as I make it up to be. If I tell Gerard and Frank to fuck off, they probably would. Or maybe they’d just sit outside my door and cuddle and listen to me to make sure I wasn’t doing anything stupid like jumping out the window.

Suddenly Bob looks up at me and into my eyes. We both stare at each other in shock, but it soon turns to complete awkwardness and we both avert our eyes.

“You wanna sit down?”

“Sure,” I answer quickly and follow Bob over to his bed where we sit stiffly next to each other.
The silence is filled with eardrum-breaking awkwardness. This is awkward! It’s so awkward! Awkward! Awkward! Awkward!

“I think I like you too.” My head snaps up and I stare at Bob’s temple. He’s staring intensely at the floor.
“You’re the only person who’ve ever accepted me for who I am.” He looks down at his coke and picks at the tap again.
“And the only person who likes me despite who I try to be.” He shrugs softly and keeps his head down. I stay still for a while. I wait for him to open up some more, but he never does.

“Who are you trying to be?” I look at him genuinely curious. He doesn’t look at me. He looks around the room – up, down, left, right – but not me.

“I told my parents that I was gay, and they left. They disowned me.” I bow my head.
“I didn’t want everyone else to leave me, so I never told anyone else. I know that Gerard and Frank are gay and if I came out and hung out with Frank, then no one would beat me or anything, but…” he trails off and lets the rest of his breath out in a sigh.
“I just wanted to be… you know, independent. I’m strong enough to handle things on my own.” I bow my head down further. I feel ashamed for forcing him to say all this – relive all this – but I also feel rejected. He can obviously manage on his own. I mean, look! He is!
“I wanted to hide who I was. I wanted to be someone else.” The tap on the can clicks loudly in the absents of his voice.
“So I joined the football team. It was the least gay thing I could think of.” He laughs shortly under his breath, but I can’t see the fun in it. He doesn’t want to be gay. He doesn’t wanna like me.
“At first, I didn’t even think I would make the team. I mean, I’m not athletic at all and I could barely even catch the ball at tryouts, but since I was the only non-zombie who was trying to make the team, I made it.” I can hear the happy grin in his voice.
“The coach liked me. He said I’d at least be able to remember and understand the plays. He accepted me, in a way.” I try to smile and be happy for him, but the feeling in my gut is nagging me. It’s like a repeated punch being thrown into my intestines.
“It really was the least gay thing I could do.” He grins quickly.
“Even the showers were easy. Trust me; zombies are not hot! At all!” He laughs softly, and I can’t help but smile. That is, until the punches start again.

He keeps laughing a little while longer, and when it dies down the tension takes over. I keep my head down and out the corner of my eye I can see Bob shifting uncomfortably around. I wait for him to continue his story, but he stays quiet. I guess his story is over – that I ‘know the rest’. But I don’t.

“Why did you beat me up?” I finally raise my head and look him straight in the eye.
“Why did I become your victim?” He frowns and looks sad, which only makes the punches harder and my anger grow.

“Because I knew you’d forgive-“

“Don’t’ give me that!” I interrupt.
“I don’t believe that!” He tries to look away, but I shift on the bed and regain his full attention.
“You never knew I was a unicorn! You didn’t know I was a forgiving creature! You had no way of knowing what kind of freak that I am!” I can’t stop my tears from flowing and my voice from shaking.
“You knew nothing about me except that I was Gerard’s brother!” I wipe my tears away.
“So why did you pick me? What made me so fucking lucky to get your fists in my stomach and face-“

“Because you’re the reason I-“ he stops suddenly in the middle of his outburst.

“What!” He bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut.

“You’re the reason that I’m gay.” His voice is only a whisper, but I hear every word and ever space between them.
The room is silent. Our heavy breaths are roaring, just like the blood that’s rushing through my veins.
“You were Gerard’s cute, hot little brother.”
“I hated you for making me gay,” he whispers angrily with his teeth bared.
“But I fucking loved you even more.” His anger disappears and is replaced by the first few tears that roll down his cheeks. Suddenly he opens his eyes and looks up at the ceiling. His can of coke makes a dull thud when it hits the carpeted floor.
“I’m so pathetic!” He squeezes his eyes shut for a second, and when they reappear, the blue is shining like sapphire.
“’I love you but I hate you.’ Fuck!” Bob throws himself back onto his bed and covers his beautiful eyes with his hands.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“So am I.”