Drowning in a River of Denial

We're Not A Couple

Weeks passed and I slept with Alex every night. Every single night. Some days we did more than sleep, and some days we did nothing but sleep. We were starting to act like a couple, which we weren’t. There was no way.

“You and Alex have been awful reclusive lately, Ri. What’s going on?” I imagined someone would say. Or “Rian, Alex has been touching your leg a lot more often during practice and interviews. What’s up there?” Or worse yet, “Rian, I know Alex is fucking you. You’re such a fag.”

But no one did. No one caught on. Alex was just being Alex, that’s what everyone figured. And no one thought about me, because I was just the receiver of these affections. I preferred it that way. As long as they didn’t think about me, they wouldn’t start to suspect.

“Rian?” Alex woke me up with a kiss to my lips.

“Yeah?” I croaked out.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t think so,” I groaned, my stomach doing nasty twists in my gut. I felt like I was going to throw up.

“What can I get you?” he asked, chewing on his lip worriedly.

“Do we have any Tums?” I replied. He shook his head. “Pepto?” Another shake. “Ginger ale?” Another. I sighed.

“I can run to the store. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do!” he leaped off his bed and started for the door.

“Lex?” I managed. He turned back around.

“Yeah?”

“You’re only wearing boxers,” I reminded him, laying my head wearily back on the pillow.

“Right!”

He pulled on a pair of dirty jeans from the floor and then a shirt from the same pile which I suspected was clean. He was out the door and out of the apartment within a minute. I closed my eyes and tried to control my nausea. But that didn’t work and I was in the bathroom, throwing everything I’d eaten the previous night for dinner back up. I rested my head against the edge of the toilet bowl. I didn’t know where this came from, honestly. I was fine the night before. Sure, I was a little bit queasy but I assumed that was from eating too much.

“Rian!” Alex yelled.

“In here!” I called back. He found me and let out a short coo before kneeling beside me. He ran his hand comfortingly up and down my back. He uncapped a bottle of Pepto Bismal and poured out a dose for me.

“Come on, sit up.”

He helped me up off the toilet and held the tiny cup up to my lips. I took the Pepto, swallowing it quickly. He smiled and pressed a kiss to my forehead. In the bag, he also had Tums, ginger ale and Saltine crackers.

“Thank you,” I mumbled. He helped me up and took me to my own bed. He sat with me as I lay down, squirming under the covers. I started to fall asleep when stupid fell out of my mouth, “We’re not a couple, Lex. You don’t have to take care of me like this.”

He chuckled lightly, even though his expression betrayed that he felt hurt. “I know. I don’t have to, but I want to.”