Anywhere but Here

Jack was studying alone in his room—Zack had to go home for a funeral and wouldn’t be back till Thursday—when he heard somebody tapping on his window. His first thought was damn it, I hate living on the first floor. His second thought was who the hell?

He sat up on his bed to see that—of fucking course—it was Alex. For some stupid reason, he let him in. “What do you want?”

“Jaaaack,” he slurred.

“You’re drunk,” he said, pointing out the obvious.

Alex stumbled forward a little. “Need to tell you something. I’m in love with you.”

“You’re completely wasted, Alex.” Again, just saying the obvious. His old best friend reflexes kicked in. “You’re not fit to walk back.” He firmly grabbed his arm and dragged him to his bed. “Go to sleep. I don’t have class till twelve tomorrow, and we’ll talk in the morning.”

After making sure that Alex was tucked in, Jack climbed into Zack’s bed. He propped himself up on his elbow and smiled slightly at the nostalgic feeling of watching drunk Alex fall asleep. Then he shook his head, reminding himself of reality, and after a lot of tossing and turning, drifted into a fitful sleep.

——

“Agh! Asshole!”

“One could say the same about you,” Jack replied as Alex rubbed the water out of his eyes and sat up. “You needed to wake up.”

Jack had woken him up by pouring a glass of ice cold water on him. Shaking his head like a dog, flinging droplets of water from his hair, he grumbled, “You could’ve just yelled in my ear or something.”

“Whatever. That was more satisfying. Now, Alex, we need to talk.”

“About?” Wait, he was in Jack’s bed. Awesome. That was awesome, right? Jack hadn’t turned him away last night. Good sign. As subtly as he could, he breathed in Jack’s scent from the pillow.

“You can’t just show up at my dorm in the middle of the night and tell me you’re in love with me,” he explained bluntly.

“Why not?” What was wrong with that?

“You’re the one that broke up with me—because you weren’t ready to come out,” he reminded him, yet again dragging out words from two years ago.

“But Jack, that was high school! I’ve learned a lot since then. And I’ve realized something. I, I can’t live without you.”

“Then why aren’t you dead yet?” Jack asked emotionlessly.

It was harsh. Alex felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach. “I…” He couldn’t think of anything to say. He wasn’t sure if he was even capable of speech right now, after hearing that.

“Look, Alex, I’ve been over this with you. I love y-, I, I loved you so much, and I didn’t mean anything to you back then, and now that I’m actually starting to get happy again, you think you can just swoop in and be all like, ‘I love you,’ and ‘I can’t live without you’ and shit? You can just suddenly start professing your love for me and I’m supposed to take you back? That’s not the way it works.”

“How can you just stop loving someone?” Alex asked softly, looking sadder and more vulnerable than Jack had ever seen him.

But instead of pitying him, Jack shrugged. “I dunno. You didn’t seem to have much difficulty with it.”

“I never stopped loving you, Jack. Oh my god. I’ve always been in love with you and I know there were times when I was too scared to admit it, but I’m here now, and I know I’m really late with saying this, but—”

“Just stop,” Jack hissed. “You don’t get it. The fact that you’re saying all this now doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t erase the past and it sure as hell doesn’t change the future.”

“I think you’re the one that doesn’t get it, Jack.” Alex was at that uncomfortable intersection between wanting to start sobbing uncontrollably and wanting to start screaming, and knowing he couldn’t do either one. “We were best friends, and I know I fucked up, but now that I’m honestly trying, you just keep shutting me down. You’re not even being a decent friend, Jack. When I need you, you turn your back and act like we’re strangers, and it’s fucking killing me. I miss you. I miss us. I miss knowing that there was always somebody I could call at two in the morning when I couldn’t sleep, someone that I could count on for any-fucking-thing, someone that I trusted and loved and cared about. And now it’s like you’re gone and I can’t stand it.”

He stood up to leave. “Even though you’re not exactly being a good friend right now, if you ever need me for something, you know where to find me. But until then, I’ll keep my distance. Um, you won’t be seeing me unless you want to.” Then he lowered his voice until it was just barely audible. “I really do love you, and I’m so, so sorry. For everything.” And he was gone, climbing back out the window and disappearing. It wasn’t a dramatic exit or anything; it was actually pretty understated and quiet.

Jack didn’t know what to do. He knew Alex was right; he knew he was being a shitty friend, but what else could he do? There was a part of him—a really huge part of him, at that—that wanted to run after him, shout that he loved him too, that he was sorry, that he forgave him. But he just couldn’t do it.

What was wrong with him? This was all he’d ever wanted, for Alex to be telling him how he felt. Ever since they were kids, that was what he’d dreamed of. It happened before and it slipped from his grasp. Now Alex was practically begging him to listen, forcing himself on Jack, pleading with him to take him back, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it or reciprocate or even look him in the eye.

There was just so much lost time between them. They’d lost a good two years, time they hadn’t had with each other, when they’d been drifting apart, almost imperceptibly at first, but then it became more noticeable. With a two year gap, what possible way was there to mend the damage? Wasn’t it just better for both of them if they cut ties and moved on?

And then there was the whole Zack thing. Zack totally loved Jack, and Jack hadn’t ever said it back. Yeah, he liked Zack…because he had a lot of traits that reminded him of Alex. His sense of humor, his taste in music, his clothes…it was all so Alex-y. Though he would never admit it to anybody, that was what had drawn him to Zack in the first place.

Jack tugged at his hair in frustration. What the hell was he supposed to do about this?