Breach

“I never signed up for being the hide away during one of your lovers quarrel,” Mick says around a sigh. He kicks my side while getting onto his bed.

“Who said I’m having a lovers quarrel?” I grunt, rolling from my stomach to my back. Mick is on his side, looking down at me with a look that clearly states he won’t believe me if I claim not to be fighting. Rolling my eyes, I grumble. “This isn’t a hide away.”

“Does Antony know where I live?”

My answer is silence.

“Then this is a hide away. Why don’t you at least turn your phone on? He probably messaged you a shit ton,” Mick groans, burying his face in his pillow. It’s not very late but we’ve got classes tomorrow plus I kept him up all night last night and the night before so we’re both exhausted. One can only go so long without the right amount of sleep.

“I don’t want to hear him.” I don’t want to see him either, which is why I’m here.

“I’m gonna pull a mom thing right now,” Mick says, catching my attention. I look away from his ceiling to see he’s shielding half his face with his pillow. Though muffled, I clearly hear him say. “Not talking about it will not give you a solution.”

“Wow…” I whistle. “That really is a mom thing.”

“Fuck you!” Mick whacks me in the head with his pillow.

Laughing, I turn onto my side; burying myself beneath the blankets Mick gave me. Though my eyes are heavy I can’t seem to fall asleep. My stomach is churning but I know I’m not sick. I’ve felt this way since I stormed out of Antony’s place. No matter how much I try to ignore it the pain is still there.

How can I compete with Jean? She’s a girl. Men prefer women don’t they? Especially men like Antony, good looking, successful, and smart. Why would he want me around? I’m a guy. I’m ten years younger. I’m still in high school. I don’t have a job. I’m not very smart. I’m not successful and probably never will be. There’s nothing about me that can win over Jean. It shouldn’t have shocked me as much as it did. I should have known from the beginning a girl would always beat me.

Even if we talk there’s no guarantee that it’ll end happily. We may get back together but what if Jean continues to pop up? Antony will eventually realize how much easier it’d be to be with her. He won’t have to worry about going outside with his lover and being seen by his bosses. People won’t whisper about him behind his back.

And lets say he doesn’t get back together with Jean. There is a chance that he could actually not like her. They are divorced and he did seem miserable with her so yeah, he may have been right about it being nothing but…what if he meets another woman? I’ll be forgotten about in a second. It won’t matter how hard I try.

Girlfriend trumps boyfriend.

I sigh and look to my phone on Mick’s bedside table. Mick has already passed out, his snores echoing throughout the room. Pushing myself up, I grab my phone and leave the room, going downstairs to the living room where it’s quiet. I sit on the couch, phone in my hand and ponder over whether or not I should bother.

Part of me wants to go right back upstairs and sleep. Another part is begging me to read each and every message, to see if he’s actually worried, if he actually cares. With shaking hands, I power it on. It takes a moment before my scream is bombarded with text messages, missed calls and voice mails. I bite my lip to hold back a smile.

Is it wrong that I’m enjoying reading every message?

My phone is filled with messages like where are you? Please call. We need to talk. At least tell me you’re ok. Do you need anything? Are you sleeping well? Some are so simple yet they still make me smile. I want to think he sent them all because he actually likes me.

My inbox is nearly full but I don’t want to delete any of the messages. I see that he has called me…a lot. Some of the times show me that he actually called from work, which shocks me. Antony rarely makes a call at work. He will send a text here or there but call? He must…actually be concerned.

I listen to them. Some of them are short and to the point like his texts while others are him stuttering over his words in apology. I’m trying my best not to laugh at how desperate he starts to sound towards the end. I will probably feel bad about laughing at him later but right now he sounds cute. It makes my stomach hurt even more.

As I’m about to go onto the next message, my phone rings. I jump, nearly falling off the couch in the process. Quickly, I run out the front door, hoping my phone didn’t wake Mick or his parents. It’s only 10 but Mick has already passed out due from us messing around the last few days and his parents…well they’re always asleep early.

I don’t even know who would be calling me right now. Looking to the I.D. I see that it’s Antony. I turned my phone off for a reason because I answered on reflex. My eyes widen at hearing his voice, “Bishop? Bishop, you there?”

My throat feels dry. I need to hang up right now.

“Don’t hang up!” Antony quickly shouts, as if he somehow knew what I was thinking.

My hands are shaking as they hold the phone to my ear. I bite my lip because although my mind is screaming hang up I can’t seem to make myself do it.

“You don’t have to say anything, just listen ok,” Antony says, his voice as desperate as it was in the earlier messages. I feel a bit bad now knowing that it’s my fault he sounds that way. “Listen…about Jean, I know I should have told her then and there that I was never, ever, ever going to get back together with her-“

Damn right you should have.

“And I know that I would have wanted you to do the same had a former fling showed up at your door. I’m sorry I didn’t and I swear I have already informed her that I’m in a relationship and that we’re never getting back together because…because I’m in love with someone else.”

For the first time since I answered the phone I manage to speak, “W-What?”

My heart is beating at a pace that concerns me. I feel hot. My cheeks are burning. I don’t know if I’m breathing anymore. Had I heard right? Did he say he was in love with someone else? Would it be conceited to think of me being that someone else?

“It’s you, I love you Bishop. I love you.”

I’m definitely not breathing and I’m pretty sure my heart just burst out of my chest. I even go so far as to run my hand over my chest to check. No hole so it’s still there. Wow, sure as hell feels like it burst out. Love…he loves me? Me? How can I go from thinking he doesn’t care to hearing him say he loves me? He has to be joking. He can’t be serious. Not that I don’t want him to be, I do want him to be! But…

“But Jean…” It came out without my permission. My brains so fuzzy I doubt I could say my alphabet right now. I feel dizzy.

“I just said that, didn’t I? I don’t have feelings for her. The only one I care about is you so…so please come home. You don’t need to say anything back just…lets talk and come home. I don’t like not knowing if you’re ok.”

Really if my throat gets any more dry I’m going to shrivel up and die. My legs feel like jello. I have to press my back into the house to keep myself up. Somehow I mutter something along the lines of ‘ok’ or maybe it was a ‘see you tomorrow’ I’m not too sure because he only messes with my head more by saying, “Good…and I mean it Bishop. I really do love you.”

Love?

He loves me…