Homophobe

“Okay there, I don't think that sandwich was an instrumental in your parents deaths or anything, so I would maybe calm down there a little, yeah?” Layla suggested, rising an auburn eyebrow at me.

I grunted in response. She gave me a pointed look, expressing clearly that she was unimpressed with my new heathen communication, but it barely fazed me. I continued to chew with maybe a little too much tenacity, but my muscles were still wired from the previous conversation and I had no other release for all my pent up adrenaline. I barely even noticed Chloe's wide eyes gazing up at me, drowning in curiosity. Barely, but still did. Even though, the blonde girl was uncharacteristically quiet.

Layla sighed, her elbow on the table and a hand cupping her chin. “Ash, are you just going to sit there angry all lunch, glaring at nothing in particular?”

I hadn't even noticed that my eyes had narrowed unconsciously, but I couldn't find it in me to care. The irritation continued to course through my veins, and Chase's stupid face seemed to be burned into the backs of my eyelids.

“Yes,” I grumbled.

The girl rolled her eyes at me, her wine stained lips melding into a thin line. “Ash,” she said, “Look, okay, I appreciate you telling us everything that's been going on.”

She was referring to the tirade I had gone on the moment I found her lunch table, dumping myself on the bench opposite of her and unleashing a rant of epic proportions. It was like everything that I had been brewing within me finally just poured from my mouth, Mason and Chase and all the fuckery that both of them had caused. It was cathartic, finally letting go of all the crazy that had been inhabiting my life, and to just rave about it to listening ears. I'd spared no detail, maybe or maybe not to Layla's delight. I'd basically entered a new state of being as soon as the words began stumbling out, and there was nothing in my power I could do to stop them, not that I tried.

Despite this, even though I'd said everything I could possible say, the anger was still steaming within me. Layla seemed to still be trying to process everything, and I was still trying to desperately swallow this weird mixture of emotions that was lingering on my tongue.

“I appreciate it but... I just- have you thought about why you're so angry? I mean really thought about it?” she asked, her face reading atypically earnest.

I knitted my brows, swallowing the rest of my sandwich. “What do you mean? Of course I've thought about why I'm angry? Chase is a dick,” I insisted, casting her a strange look. “There's not really much to think about.”

“No, I mean... okay, I think we can all agree here that Chase is definitely the worst person ever, and for the most part I can barely stand him, and I only ever put up with him for your sake, correct?”

She looked towards me for confirmation. I nodded dumbly. “Yes?”

“Okay, so, don't write me off in your little anger episode when I say this, but I don't think Chase is as wrong as you make him out to be,” she admitted, her eyes rolling over my face, calculating my response.

I pulled my head back, giving her a look of complete bewilderment. “Wait, what?”

“Just hear me out, okay?” she asked, and I only blinked in response, finding no appropriate answer. She accepted this as a green light.

“Is Chase wrong in a lot of the things he does? Yes, of course, I'm not here to debate that. He fucks up a lot. Most things, actually. He's like the master of fucking up. I will not deny this,” she asserted firmly, but her features softened afterwards. “But this time, Ash, I think you're being a little unfair.”

“I-”

“Don't interrupt, just listen, okay?”

I slumped in my seat, acquiescing underneath her hard stare. “Okay, I'm sorry,” I murmured.

“Chase has been really dick-ish lately, yes, but he's been going through sort of a hard time trying to figure this whole thing out. Does that excuse him for being a dick? No, but that doesn't mean it's not hard on him, and while you have been pretty sure of yourself for a while, this is all still really new to him.”

I swallowed, trying to ignore the glaring honesty in her words.

“You guys hadn't talked about it at all, and you expect him to just come bursting out of the closet after only coming sort of to terms with his sexuality, what? The Friday before?”

She gave me a look, and I shifted in my seat, refusing to meet her eyes.

“You can't force him to come out of the closet right away just to appease your own insecurities, that's unfair and you know it. Is he ashamed of you? You know he's not, and he's not going to treat this as some fling, because he wouldn't be going through this torturous process of trying to figure himself out if it wasn't for you. You know that, Ash. Look at Chase over there, he's heartbroken, it's written all over him.”

At her words, my gaze began to float across the room, falling to Chase, slumped in his seat, a distracted look occupying his face.

“And since when were you out? If I'm pretty sure, the only people that know about your gayness is me, Chase, Mason and I guess now Chloe,” she added, looking over to the petite blonde who was looking at both of us with her big, doe eyes.

“I won't tell anyone,” she promised, “Cross my heart and all that.”

I hadn't really thought about Chloe's presence, or that I had basically unleashed my homosexuality on her as well. I'd been so caught up in all of the Chase tomfoolery I had barely considered that I hadn't actually told anyone. I didn't feel a need to hide it anymore, it felt natural just to have it out there, but I hadn't really been screaming it from the rooftops or anything.

“Have you told your mom? Anyone? Last time I checked, this was your big secret you were keeping because of Chase, and obviously I think it's awesome that you want to be open about it, but since when? If I didn't know about it, how could Chase know about it? You haven't exactly been prancing around with a flag that reads 'King of the Gays' on it,” she said with sarcasm dripping from her words, driving her point very clearly across.

“Okay, yes, that's true,” I conceded, fidgeting again. “And no, I guess I haven't really told anyone about it, or my mom.”

“And just like you shouldn't be outing Chase, I'm sure Chase didn't want to out you,” she reasoned, and I could feel her words sink into my heart.

“But I don't care about being out or whatever, I just don't want to be his private little secret, and I shouldn't have to be,” I maintained, crossing my arms over my chest, albeit a little childishly.

“You shouldn't, I agree with you, but Ash, how does he know what you're thinking? Is he a mind reader? No, and you can't expect him to be, that's unfair. You decided all these things in our own head and you didn't even let him know. And you barely decided them, Mason practically branded them for you,” she chided, her voice dropping a few octaves but they still were sharp enough to cut through me.

I scoffed. “Mason? He's got nothing to do with this.”

“He's got everything to do with this!” she exclaimed, her tone indicating that this was the obvious. “I love Mason, you know that. And I love you too. Mason is great, and he can be an amazing person and an amazing friend, but he's hurt. He went through some shit. And he didn't come out of that without scars, scars that are still clearly still very fresh and very painful. He's seeing himself in you and your situation and he's projecting it on you. Maybe not intentionally, maybe he's truly doing it out of a caring place, but it doesn't mean he isn't projecting his fears onto you, and instilling them in you.”

“That's not-”

“And the insecurities in you are taking that, and you're projecting it onto Chase who, yes, again, is a giant asshole. The king of assholes. But this, he doesn't deserve it this particular time. It's like a chain of projection, and he's at the end of it. Ash, you know that I love you, and I will always take your side. No matter what, I'm always going to be supporting you, but just try and see it from Chase's perspective for a second,” she suggested, refusing me the grace of her hardened gaze, and I had no other choice but to meet it.

I sighed, feeling the conflicting emotions begin to unfurl in my stomach acid, the whirlwind of thoughts in my mind picking up speed. “I just- what am I supposed to do then? Am I just supposed to let him back all hunky-dory and forget it all?” I murmured, searching desperately for a clear answer, a tightness stretching across my chest.

“Ash, of course not, but I think you should try to look at this in a new light. Do I think he needs to earn a place in your life? Of course, there's not a doubt about it. He hurt you, a lot, and you need time to heal. You've been so caught up in all of this, so concentrated on Chase, you haven't given any time to yourself, and you need it. You're both trying to jump into this relationship, and I get that it's making up for lost time and everything but, Ash, he hurt you. You're not over it, and that's okay. You have no obligation to be over it. You need time to heal and that's perfectly fine.”

I felt myself begin to chew my bottom lip, taking in a deep, much-needed breath as I tried to make sense of everything she was saying. Which wasn't that difficult as it made perfect sense, and it was exactly what I needed to hear, even if it hurt a little to have it slapped into my cheeks. It was necessary, and Layla knew it, and I could see the concern drifting in her eyes, but her voice was firm in all tough-love fashion.

“But it's not fair to Chase if you lead him on into believing that you don't, and you know it's not. You're hurting him and you're hurting yourself, and it's not fair to anyone. I mean, besides me obviously, he's your best friend Ash, for whatever reason that's completely beyond me. But there is a reason, and you know it, because you guys have been stuck to each other for years, and that's not just for nothing. Just... just think of why, before you count him out, okay? I know what you're thinking, and what the hurt's thinking, but just try to look at it with a deeper perspective.”

She heaved a deep sigh, obviously drained from her very long and thoughtful speech, and took a swig of her water bottle. We locked eyes, and there was an uncommunicative understanding in that moment, and Layla knew that she'd drilled her point into my resistant but otherwise knowing heart.

“Ugh,” I groaned, my head falling into my hands, defeated. “Why is this all so hard? And since when did you get so wise?”

“Um, fuck you, first of all, I was always wise,” Layla scoffed, but there was an undeniable smile tugging on the side of her mouth. “I just want you to be happy, okay?”

“And I'm here too, if you need me!” Chloe chirped, beaming at me with her mega-watt smile. It was oddly comforting in that moment, and I felt my own mouth quirk up, her attitude infectious.

“Thanks,” I replied, earnestly. “Actually, it means a lot.”

It was absolutely surreal, thinking of how I was in this situation, how months ago I would have laughed in a person's face if they told me this was where I was going to end up. In love and hurt by Chase, best friends with Mason, Layla giving me the sagely advice of an old travelling grandpa, and Chloe reaching out a friendship that even weirder I was very happy to accept. The last few months had been some of the most tumultuous I'd ever endured, and I felt like only an echo of the person that I'd been.

Not in a bad way, but different. Smarter, I guessed. I felt more sure of myself, of Chase, of everything. And this new Ash knew what he had to do, which was text Chase, and apologize, because Layla was right. About everything. I was projecting, and I was scared. It was practically terrifying to admit that I was absolutely terrified, of being hurt again, of feeling the pit of my stomach lurch into my throat, the tears collecting behind my teeth.

I swallowed my pride and fished out of my phone, finding Chase's name in my contacts. Even though Layla had shifted subjects and was rambling on about some television show to Chloe, who was listening intently with a broad grin slapped across her face, the red head's eyes still watched me carefully, an encouraging smile on her lips.

Thinking of what exactly to say, how to word the chaotic minefield inside, that was the hardest part. I just wanted to get it out of the way, done with, and face-to-face was a little too daunting for my faint of heart. But compressing it into a couple consumable words on a phone screen was also hard as fuck, and my undeniably lazy heart couldn't find the easy way out today.

I decided to start with a classic “I'm sorry” and from there went on to say that I wasn't being fair, and that it wasn't my place to out him, or anyone, especially when I'd just become comfortable with the idea myself only not too long ago. That I just needed time, to figure this out, myself out, and not in the cliché way where I was making up excuses because I hated him. I didn't, and I could never, and I still wanted him to be in my life more than anything, and I realized this was a completely selfish desire, but I was still hoping he would indulge me. Because he was my best friend, more than anything, and I loved him. I just had to decide in which way.

It was longer than my average text message, thank god for my unlimited plan, and it seemed to be pages and pages long. Maybe cellphone wasn't the best medium, but I'd already written it up, and a physical letter would be way too tedious. This was the modern age, and all that. It appeared, though, that writing it wasn't even the hardest part. As my eyes rolled over the words, mustering up the courage to press the send button proved to be a daunting task.

“Hey, just do it,” Layla murmured, flashing me an inspiriting smile.

A sigh fell from my mouth. “I know, I know,” I breathed out, my thumb hovering over the button. In one quick motion I pressed down, feeling like time had been suspended for a moment, before letting out a deep breath. “It's done! It's over with! No looking back!” I affirmed, for myself more than anything, and dropped the phone on the table.

“Good job!” Chloe exclaimed, clapping wildly at my success, a genuine grin beaming on her face.

“You go get 'em, tiger,” Layla pseudo-growled, a smirk digging into her cheek.

I gave her a look, but the energy they were both radiating was infectious, and I couldn't help but feel the edge of my own mouth quirk upward.

They both managed to steal all my attention, with Chloe practically breathing vigour and Layla having had much to tell me about the party on the weekend that was a complete tragedy I missed. They were fights and stolen kisses and some poor girl got beer poured all over her, an entire novel of stories that Layla had brewing behind those ruby red lips.

Which was why I was completely taken off guard when Chloe's wandering eyes began to widen, her gaze pointed across the room. “What's Chase doing?” she asked, absolute wonder devouring her words.

“What?” I asked dumbly.

“What the actual fuck?” Layla breathed out, everyone's sentiments exactly.

Chase had climbed onto one of the lunch tables, amid pizza stained paper plates and half full pop cans, right in the middle of where the soccer team sat. He cleared his throat, but he'd garnered most of the attention of the room already. A hush spilled over the crowd, inquisitive murmurs lingering in the anticipatory air.

“Um, hi, if you don't know me, my name is Chase Evans, and I just wanted to share something with you today,” he announced, eyes shifting awkwardly around the room, refusing to fall on any which thing.

“All right, so, since I've already gathered you guys here today,” he chuckled softly, only to be met with hard silence. “I just needed to get this off my chest. Here it goes.” He inhaled deep.

I stared at him with wide eyes, absolute shock enveloping my every muscle, every nerve ending. My heart was thudding loudly in my ears, threatening to break the ribs that contained it, nothing making sense. A part of me was dismissing the entire notion, because Chase wouldn't do what I thought he was going to do. This was the guy that gagged quite dramatically and very publicly every time he saw two guys hold hands. This was the guy that would spit “fag” every time he saw a demure peck on the cheek from two guys.

But this was also the guy that had told me he loved me.

My mouth was suddenly desert-like. I swallowed, hard.

“I, Chase Evans, am hopelessly in love with my best friend. That best friend being Asher Matthews. And I love him in a very gay way. The most gay way. There is absolutely nothing heterosexual about it. And I'm a dick, a total dick, and I don't deserve him, and I don't want to rush him into anything, but I just want everyone to know that I am totally in love with him,” he declared in front of everyone, his soccer friends, the entire student body, even Mrs. Rosa, the very unimpressed hall monitor.

“And I want him to know that I'd never be ashamed of it, because he is awesome, and I have the biggest boner for him,” he admitted, a cheeky grin devouring his face, as his eyes met mine from across the room.

A new eruption of whispers polluted the air, and Mrs. Rosa's frown deepened, but I barely noticed as I couldn't force myself to break from his gaze. My mouth hung open, unhinged, as I blinked, trying to process what had just happened.

Nope, nothing in this made sense at all. That was the only logical conclusion. Body Snatchers.

“Whoo! Go Chase! You do your thing!” River whooped loudly across the room, clapping thunderously and breaking out into other congratulatory hollers. He sent Chase some encouraging finger guns, a Cheshire grin stretching across his face.

Chase chuckled at that, responding with a finger gun of his own in River's direction, and cleared his throat once more. Silence continued to permeate the air.

“All right, that's all I had to say, I love Ash, you may resume your regularly scheduled programming,” Chase concluded, clambering off the table as Mrs. Rosa had clearly allowed enough and was bee-lining it straight in his direction. As soon as he was done, the room erupted in conversation, resuming it's somewhat comforting buzz of voices.

The three of us shared looks of utter bewilderment, even Chloe was as speechless as the best of us.

“I repeat: what the actual fuck, am I right?” Layla asked, astonishment fused in her words, her mouth hanging open in much the same way mine was. “Even I didn't see that coming, wow. Seriously, wow, oh my god!”

“That's so cute,” Chloe cooed, lacing her fingers and holding them to her heart, a sweet expression on her face.

“Are we completely sure that's Chase, though? I mean, in all honesty,” I mused, trying to find the maybe one logical aspect of this entire situation, and realizing there clearly was not a single one.

Layla rolled her eyes. “What do you mean? That's the most Chase-iest thing I've ever seen. He's always the one on the lunch tables,” she surmised, gouging my reaction fully.

I looked over to where Chase sat, his soccer friends grinning at him and shoving him in all their playful jock-fashion, but the air was lighter still.

“I know, but-” I began, but was cut off by the ringing of the bell, signalling that lunch was over. “Do I talk to Chase? Do I not talk to Chase? Layla, what do I do!?” I panicked, my eyes darting around the room as I tried to plan my next choice of action. I was not learned in the protocol after your crush and best friend confessed their love for you in front of most of the student body. They did not teach me this in Spanish.

“Talk to him,” she advised, smiling softly. “I know you guys will be fine, just talk it out.”

“Okay,” I muttered, collecting all of my things. Inhaling deep, I hiked my backpack over my shoulder, and squared my shoulders. I could talk to Chase. I was a man.

“Good luck!” chimed Chloe as they both disappeared amongst the mass of students filing out the doors.

When I stepped into the hall, I was met with the one possibility I hadn't considered: I had no idea where Chase was. Amongst the chaos of people walking in every which direction, I had lost him, and I didn't really know where to go from there.

It seemed the universe answered my question as I felt a hand take my wrist, and looked up to see Chase grinning at me.

“Oh, hey,” I breathed out, completely at a loss for words.

“Come with me,” he urged, and started to drag me down the hall. It appeared this time I was the one who was surrendering all of their autonomy as I allowed myself to be pulled along, until we were outside on the asphalt.

No one was outside at this point, everyone inside or in class, and the entire outside was empty. Chase released his grip on my wrist and turned to me, a small smile finding his face.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” I replied.

I couldn't help but return the smile with one of my own.

“I know you- I know that took a lot, and I really appreciate it, I do. It was cute and all that. But I meant what I said, I do need time,” I admitted, capturing his coffee dark eyes with my own.

“I know,” he said, nodding his head. “And I want to wait. I want to be there, in any way. Best friend or boyfriend or whatever.”

“Are you sure? I don't know how long it will take, or if I'll end up wanting to go there at all, I can't make any promises,” I told him, truthfully, even though it was painful to say. A part of me was scared to watch him leave, to watch him walk away from me like all those times I turned my back on him in the most hypocritical way, but I knew it was what I had to do. It was only fair, to him and to me.

But the smile never left his face.

“Ash, that's fine. I wouldn't expect that of you. Just know that no matter what, I'll be there. I'll always be there, okay? Whichever way you want me to be.”

At his words, a warmth touched my heart, and began mingling with my bloodstream, tingling in my fingertips. I grinned at him, slapping a hand over my eyes in response to how stupid I felt inside. “What a bunch of fucking cheesy idiots we are,” I murmured, but the betraying grin never left my lips.

“But I will say, all of this has made me late for class, so now you have to walk me there. No negotiations, you're doing it,” he declared, and when I peeked through my fingers, the grin on his face was broad and unforgiving in the most Chase-like way possible.

“Ugh, fine you dickhead,” I surrendered, in the best way possible.

“All right you asshole, let's not get cute with the name calling, I know you have to try to compensate because your masculinity is threatened with how adorable we are,” he teased, and I rolled my eyes at him, shoving him away from me. It was contagious, the way my own mouth curved into a smile.

He barked out a laugh, head thrown back, bathed in the sunlight pouring down on us. His tanned skin and golden hair seemed to shine with it's own light, in a way that only Chase could, and I felt myself get lost in those dark eyes of his.

And in that moment, everything just felt right.

Because I had a gay crush on my ex-homophobic best friend, and I knew he loved me back.