Mad Like Me

The Willow mystery goes on. She wasn’t in the room when I woke up, and she wasn’t at Group. Raquel isn’t in Group with us, but they were probably off somewhere. Willow’s here now, though. I’m writing this at lunch, because I don’t feel very hungry right now. All day I’ve been sick with the anticipation of Raquel’s next move.

“Where were you yesterday?” asked Jay, drumming his fingers on the table. He didn’t seem very hungry either, but then again, he never was. “I came by your room at, like, six, but Luna just said you went to take a shower. So I came back in half an hour and you still weren’t there. Were the doctors giving you hell about the brilliant iPod recovery?”

“No, they didn’t mention it. I needed some time alone. Let’s just leave it at that.” I pushed my peas back and forth with my spoon. I wasn’t wearing my sheet straitjacket today, just in case I needed to fight off Raquel. “Why were you looking for me? What’s up?”

He gave a dramatic sigh and rolled his eyes.

“Oh, no reason. Just that I needed to vent after the attack of the raging Jesus freaks.”

“Oh my God. What happened?”

“I was walking back from therapy when the three of them surrounded me, spouting shit about how I was going to hell, and how my kind was a scourge upon this earth, and how they’d tried to save me but I wouldn’t repent. Some shit like that. Never mind the fact that they’d never said anything related to ‘saving’ me.”

“So what did you do?”

“I just said – in my most melodramatic voice, of course,” –he put on a serious face- “’What if I don’t want to be saved?’ And then I walked away.”

“Wow. That was melodramatic. Good job, though.” I knew that the uber-Christians could get pretty bad with the homophobic stuff. I mean, believe whatever you want, but don’t hurt other people over it. I bit my lip. Should I tell him about what happened? Share our bullying stories and hold a pity party?

“Alright. What’s wrong?”

“W-what?” I sputtered. “Nothing’s wrong. Nope. Everything’s fine.”
“You’re a terrible liar. C’mon, what’s wrong? You don’t have to hide anything. God knows I don’t.”

So I told him. Maybe it was the fact that no, he didn’t hide anything. Maybe it was my underlying need for attention. Or maybe it was those pretty eyes working their magic. But in any case, I told him.

Jay sat there for a minute, nodding and thinking to himself. Finally, he spoke.

“You do know that no one would give a crap if you came out in a towel, right?”

“You don’t know that.”
“No, I’m serious. The second day I was here, half the patients had apparently decided to run through the halls naked as a prank. After that traumatizing event, I doubt anybody would’ve cared. Some may have even liked it.”

I snorted.
“Yeah, the creepy old men maybe. Maybe before Raquel I would’ve been okay with it. But after what she said… you wouldn’t understand. You’re a guy. You don’t have weight issues.”

“You think I don’t have weight issues?” He laughed, a little forced. “Cat, how do you think I feel about being this skinny? According to what we see, women are supposed to be thin, and men are supposed to be big and muscular. But we can’t be fat, either. We have to have huge biceps, and six-pack abs, and chiseled chests. Look at me. I’m far from muscular. Between my body and my voice, I could easily be mistaken for a very flat-chested girl. And it isn’t fun. Trust me: guys have problems too.”

“True,” I admitted. “I never thought of it like that. I guess you’ve got it hard, too.” We sat there for a few moments wallowing in self-pity. “But you seriously think it would be okay for me to walk out in a towel? Just for future reference?”

“Yeah, why not? Let’s hope it never happens again.”

Of course, this whole conversation took place in hushed tones, since Willow was sitting a few feet away. In hindsight, I probably should’ve waited until we were in Jay’s room to tell him. But, showing the logic of a newborn kitten, I basically announced it right in front of her.

After lunch we didn’t even have a singing lesson. We just listened to my iPod. It turned out that we had the same taste, and we sang along – him slightly off-key, but naturally I didn’t care. Just hearing his voice was nice. And being so close – the cord to my earbuds wasn’t all that long, so we had to sit close together, our arms touching. Oh, how good that felt. You have no idea, Journal. You have no idea.

I let loose a long yawn, blinking blurred vision away. I hadn’t gotten enough sleep the day before, and the insomnia was really catching up to me. I put my head on Jay’s shoulder. What the hell, right? He was gay, it meant nothing. As far as he knew.

“You get any rest last night?” he asked.

“No. I was too afraid of being tarred and feathered in my sleep.”

“Don’t you think you’d wake up if they did that?”

“Knowing Raquel, she’d find a way. Remember, OCD does not equal logic.”

“So you’re still tired.”

“Si, senor. Mind if I crash here? I don’t feel like walking back to my room.” I held my breath. Would he think I was weird for asking that?

“Go ahead. I need a nap too. Which bunk do you want?”

“Top, please. And thanks.”

“No problem,” he said as I climbed up to the top bed. “Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams.”

It was impossible to tell by looking which bed he slept in, because both beds were neatly made. As I climbed under the covers – exactly the same ones that were in my room. Ah, the conformity – and pulled them over my head, however, I knew that this was where he usually slept. The blanket smelled like him, like shampoo and sweetness. Come on, Cat, don’t be a creeper. I tried to ignore the fact that I was sleeping in my crush’s bed and fell asleep.

When I woke up, I just lay under the blanket in the darkness for a while. Alone with my thoughts, I wondered if this was normal, this infatuation I had with Jay. I’ve always been boy crazy. When I fall, I fall hard. So for me, this was normal. For the average teenage girl? Hell if I knew.

I poked my head out from under the covers and climbed down off the bed. Jay was lying on the bottom bunk, drawing and humming along to his iPod.

“Hey,” I mumbled, stretching.
“Hey.” He added a few more strokes to whatever he was drawing, then looked up and smiled. “Have a good sleep?”

“Yeah, how long was I out?”

“Ah, about four hours. You must’ve needed the sleep.”

“Oh, gosh!” I cried. “Four hours? Sorry ‘bout that.”

“No harm done. Except a serious case of bedhead.” He motioned towards my head with his pencil.

I reached up and felt that my hair was indeed terribly out of place. Blushing frantically, I combed through it with my fingers. My black bob cut was hard to mess up and easy to fix, but that didn’t make me any less embarrassed. I tried to push down a particularly defiant cowlick, and failed. Finally I just cried “Screw it!” and sat on the bed, frustrated. As I grouched, Jay put a tentative hand on my shoulder.

“If it makes you feel better,” he said, “your hair is lovely. If I knew you’d be this upset, I never would’ve said anything.”

“It’s not. About. The hair. Jay.” I shook my head. “It’s about this stupid Raquel bullshit. I’ve been too tightly wound for too long. I know it’s only been a day but I feel like I’m going to explode. I’m just so fucking pissed right now.” I felt my eyes fill with angry tears. “And I keep thinking of what I should’ve done, and what I should’ve said, and that just makes it worse!” I dropped my head into my hands.

I heard Jay take a deep breath next to me and prepared for a lecture. Instead, I got a hug. He held me tight while I cried and even though it didn’t mean anything to him, it meant the world to me. Just to have someone who’s willing to help is help itself.

“First of all,” he said when we broke away, “there is no ‘should have’. You did what you did and so did she and that won’t change so there’s no point in dwelling on it. Second, look me in the eye.” He tilted my chin up so I was forced to look at him. Not that I minded of course. Our gazes locked, he moved on. “You are wonderful, and nothing that half-witted cold-hearted bitch says can change that. She was lying to you. You’re fabulous.”

I snorted.
“Fabulously insane, more like.”

“And you should wear that title proudly,” he said. “There’s nothing wrong with waving your freak flag high. It makes you you. In a world of clones, being different is a blessing. It’s a blessing in disguise, but it’s a blessing.”

“Is that how you deal with everybody teasing you?” I sniffed.

“That,” he said, “and the absolute knowledge that, as a whole, we are better than them.”

I laughed, lightly, but it was there. And he saw it.

“Fabulously insane together?” He reached out his hand to me.

I smiled, blushing, and grasped his hand.

“Fabulously insane together.”

OMFG Journal. O. M. F. G. Is it normal that I like this boy so much? I can’t explain it, but he just gives me a good vibe. Like, he’s one of those people who you can tell is a good person. He helped me through this, and I’m endlessly grateful for that. Hell, I’m just gonna say it.

I love you Jay. So much.