Page 29 of Catch Me (Becoming Us #4)

Roman

“Don’t be a pussy,” I said as I pulled my shirt over my head.

“You’re gonna get us killed,” Travis called after me.

I held up my hand to flip him off as I leapt off the dock.

Yeah, I was definitely gonna get us killed because this water was cold as fuck. I was pretty sure my dick was about to fall off, but he’d dared me to jump in, and his taunting expression made me determined. Even when he said he was kidding, I had to keep going. I was committed.

“You coming?”

I heard him groan, then he took off his shirt. My heart sped up as he raced toward me. There was a huge smile on his face despite his complaints. When he jumped, he wrapped his arms around his knees, making him look like an exuberant teenager.

After he hit the water, I moved a little further away and took a moment to breathe.

Why did I feel so sick right now? I was one stray glance away from throwing up .

I had to get my shit together. I wanted to be Travis’ friend, which was why I’d invited him here. Nothing else was going to happen, and I knew that we both agreed on that front.

Besides, people couldn’t develop feelings in two weeks.

Feelings . That wasn’t what was going on here. I didn’t catch feelings for men. Sometimes, I slept with them. That was it. I wouldn’t let anything else happen. It didn’t matter what Til said or how much I’d been thinking about it lately.

Me and Travis were friends. Next weekend, I’d go home, and maybe we’d text sometimes. I’d say ‘hey’ and he’d say ‘hey back.’ Then, I’d get fucking butterflies and spiral into the familiar, vicious cycle of guilt and self-hatred.

It might kill me someday, and with every year that passed, I wondered how much I cared. At least my dad wouldn’t hate me if it happened before he found out what had been going on in my head for so long. My memory would be pure as long as my shame followed me to the grave.

Travis breached the surface and I refocused. Immediately, I honed in on some droplets of water that fell from his hair and traveled down his chest.

“You’re not dead,” I pointed out.

He snorted. “Let’s not make this a habit.” Tessa whined from the dock and he pointed at her. “Don’t even think about it, monster. Roman doesn’t get to drag you down with us.”

“Just you, then.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m getting out before an alligator comes for my toes.”

“I’m sure they have better taste than that.”

“Not a foot guy, huh?”

My nose wrinkled as I swam toward the dock. “I’ve never looked at someone’s feet and thought, ‘Damn, those are some nice fucking feet.’”

“No foot jobs for Roman.”

“That’s disgusting.”

After I pulled myself out of the water, I glanced at him. He picked his shirt up, then shook his head and hung it over his shoulder. “So much for fishing.”

“We’re already here. ”

He shot me an incredulous look. “It’s forty degrees and we’re wet.”

“Go change. I’ll get things set up.”

“Roman,” he said in what I could only describe as a ‘dad voice.’ “You need to warm up too.”

As I grabbed the poles, I smiled. “Just bring my bag, man. I won’t croak while you’re gone.”

“Promise?”

“Dude, just go,” I laughed.

He eyed me for another second before he turned toward shore. “Tessa is staying with you so she can come tell me if you pass out or start seizing or something.”

“Is that what happens?”

“I don’t know.”

I watched him until he was out of sight, then returned to my task. Tessa sat beside me, wagging her tail and cocking her head every once in a while when a bird passed by or a fish jumped.

“He’s crazy, huh?”

She nudged my arm with her nose, which I took as agreement. We were often on the same wavelength, although she wouldn’t admit it when her dad was around. He would scoff and look all offended as if he didn’t know he was a basket case sometimes.

I found myself smiling while I cast the line. Balancing the pole between my knees, I grabbed my phone from behind me. There were some texts in the group chat I had with my friends, but I hadn’t sent anything for a while. I hadn’t even read any of it because I knew it’d be the same old bullshit.

Exiting out of the messages, I started taking pictures. Tessa came up and perched her chin on my shoulder.

“Oh, yeah. You like selfies. Ready?”

After taking a few, I laid back and patted my chest. She laid her head on me and nuzzled against my neck. I took a couple more pictures, then uploaded some of them to Instagram with the caption, ‘Am I a thief if she chooses me? If I entice her with tacos, it’s not cheating.’

Irene liked it within seconds and left a comment telling me how sexy I looked. Navigating to her page, I removed her as a follower. She probably wouldn’t notice that I wasn’t coming up on her feed anymore .

Footsteps made me look over my shoulder. Travis was wearing his blue hoodie with a pair of dark jeans. His damp hair was loose underneath a ball cap that seemed like an extension of him at this point.

“Should I be jealous?” Travis asked, nodding toward the phone.

“You’re super funny. Do you know that?”

“That’s why I was voted most likely to find love when I was in high school. Whoever predicted that should be stoned.”

“Allegedly, some things are worth waiting for.”

“We’re still young.”

“To being young,” I said as I took the beer he passed me.

“And to falling in love.”

“Maybe.”

He laughed around the bottle. “Maybe. It can’t be that great, right?”

When I glanced at him, he was already looking at me. He offered me a smile before he grabbed his pole. I convinced myself that he wouldn’t notice that I was still staring at him.

I wanted to see his eyes again. No matter what I did, I couldn’t capture them. Every time I looked at my drawings, they didn’t feel like him, but I couldn’t figure it out.

What the fuck is hiding in your eyes, Travis McKinney?

*****

Travis watched me with a wrinkled nose, and every second that he stared, the harder it was not to laugh. Bringing the skewer to my mouth, I blew out the fire, then carefully pulled the marshmallow off of it.

“That’s burnt,” he said as if I couldn’t see it.

I popped it into my mouth and groaned. “Fucking delicious.”

“Great. I’ve invited a sociopath into my home. Someone could’ve warned me.”

“I’m sure Til said plenty of things about me.”

He chuckled and held his skewer over the fire, keeping it at the perfect height to lightly brown it.

Of all people, I thought he’d be unhinged when it came to fire.

Or s’mores. Or swimming in December. It seemed like we were opposites in a way that somehow complimented each other.

Where I was tame, he was wild, and where he was controlled, I followed my impulses.

Sometimes, the roles reversed and I never knew where the chips would fall .

“You should try it,” I suggested.

“Burnt food isn’t my idea of gourmet.”

“Have some fun.”

“I’m very fun.”

“More like very demure, very mindful.”

He threw a marshmallow at me, then burst into laughter. It was impossible not to do the same. Another one came for my face, and this time, I caught it in my mouth. Throwing my arms in the air, I let out a cheer smothered by the marshmallow.

“You ever played chubby bunny?” I asked.

“Is that when you eat a bunch of rabbits until you get chubby?”

Rolling my lips inward, I forced back a smile. “No.”

I grabbed another bag of marshmallows and asked myself who he thought he was feeding when he got these. It was a good thing he’d brought them, though.

“Alright.” I grabbed my chair and dragged it closer to his. “We each put a marshmallow in our mouth, then we have to say ‘chubby bunny.’”

“Simple.”

“Mhm. We add another and do the same thing. Whoever can keep saying it with the most marshmallows in their mouth is the winner.”

He clicked his tongue a few times while he processed it. When it had been silent for a few seconds, I kicked his shin.

“I’m thinking,” he drawled with a healthy dose of snark.

“It’s not complicated.”

“My brain lags like a 2005 Dell.”

This time, I did laugh. “Uh, okay. That’s weird.”

“Shut up. Auditory processing isn’t my strong suit. Okay.” He blew out a breath and tossed a marshmallow in the air. “Open.”

“Absolutely not.”

“That’s no fun.”

He brought the marshmallow to his mouth, and fuck my life, I was an idiot for grabbing his wrist and pulling it toward me. I held one out to him and he snatched it with his teeth like I had, looking a little too smug about it.

“Chubby bunny,” he said proudly. “Another one.”

This time, we put our own marshmallows into our mouths. When we reached seven, he leaned forward and choked out a laugh .

“Erm gunn die.”

I wheezed, barely able to draw in air at this point. Grabbing onto his arm, I pulled him back up, then broke down in another laugh when I saw how full his mouth was. I made a sound to get his attention, and he turned toward me, folding his hands in his lap with mock patience.

I hummed as I prepared. “Churby berny.”

He shook his head. I narrowed my eyes and gestured toward him. When he pointed at me and shook his head again, I flipped him off. Apparently accepting that my response was good enough, he cleared his throat.

“Ubby bernie.”

Immediately, I spluttered, then nearly inhaled the marshmallows. When I was younger, I didn’t think about how dangerous this was. Had people ever died doing this?

Using my fingers, I dug the marshmallows out and tossed them toward the fire. My first full breath was cut off when I saw that he was chewing through his.

“You’re gonna eat those?”

He nodded. It looked like he was going to laugh again, but he forced a determined expression and kept his attention on the fire.

I scooted into his line of sight and waggled my eyebrows.

Squeezing his eyes shut to avoid my taunts, he started patting a rhythm on his thighs that reminded me of the cup song.

“Hey,” I said.

He shook his head. Reaching forward, I stopped one of his hands and held it to his thigh. His eyes opened and locked on me, freezing me in place for a second.

He gave me an expectant look, which snapped me out of it.

“I have to tell you something.” He gestured for me to go on. “You look like a fucking idiot.” I laughed when he shoved my hand away.

Finally, he got all of the marshmallows down and took a long drink of water. “That was ridiculous. Who the hell invented that game?”

“No idea. I can’t believe you’ve never played it. We used to do it during youth group camping trips at church. You didn’t do those?”

He dragged his teeth over his lower lip, then shook his head. “We didn’t really go to church. ”

“No summer camps or anything?”

“Just once, and I definitely didn’t do anything like that there.”

For a second, I was confused. When I realized what he was talking about, my lips parted.

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

He cocked his head. “Don’t be sorry. It was a joke.”

“Still, I just . . .”

I blew out a breath and leaned my elbows on my knees. He did the same, which put his face only a foot from mine. The firelight reflected off of his brown eyes, making them look molten. I wondered if I could recreate the effect.

“The whole thing makes me angry,” I admitted. “For your sake.”

“A hell of a lot of people had it worse.”

“Those are their experiences and this is yours. It doesn’t make one more valid than the other.”

“No, but sometimes, I feel like a fraud.”

“I don’t see how.”

He looked past me, and I watched his fingers tap softly on his jeans.

“A lot of people haven’t been to conversion therapy, so they can’t fully grasp how it feels.

Even though I went to Dumont, it feels like it’s not my place to speak for the others who have.

Like, they should be the ones talking about it, you know? ”

“Yeah, but that’s what being a voice for them is about.

You don’t have to have the worst story in order to do that.

You’re an inspiration to people, and in a way, you’re an ideal when it comes to that type of situation.

You were lucky, so you’re speaking for them, and if they want to speak out but are afraid, maybe you’re encouraging them to do that. Like Sen.”

He nodded slowly, still not looking at me.

“I think it’s Sen that made me start to overthink it all.

For his situation, he’s sort of an ideal too.

He’s hope, you know? Most people who went through what he did would have broken, and he likes to say it’s because of Kai that he didn’t, but nobody can carry you that much.

It’s him who’s strong and he’s the one who should have a platform to tell his story. ”

“I don’t think there’s any reason you both can’t have that.

Not everything is about shock value, you know.

His story is more painful, but there are people who will identify with you more, even if their experience is more similar to his.

You’re different, and that’s a good thing.

All movements need people from all walks of life, otherwise there’s only so far you can go. ”

He took my hand before he finally met my eyes. “Thank you. I’m not someone who really asks for help or encouragement when I need it, but it seems like you always know.”

“I just pay attention, I guess.”

“You’re observant, but more than that, you see things differently. People don’t really see how deep you are, do they?”

When I pulled my hand back, he folded his in his lap again. I thought about calling it a night or maybe going for a walk, but I looked at the orange flickering in his eyes again.

“Can I draw you?”

The corner of his lips lifted. “Again?”

“Yeah, but while you’re in front of me. It’s just the light and...” I trailed off, feeling like an idiot for asking.

“Get your trusty tablet, Bob Ross.”

“I don’t paint.”

“Too hard?”

“I can , but I don’t. It’s not enjoyable to me and I like being able to start and stop whenever I want. I can draw anywhere.”

“Well, I guess I can settle for a drawing, then, although I’d look dazzling as oils on a canvas.”

He always looked dazzling, but it wasn’t about oils. Nothing could beat having him two feet in front of me, his eyes reflecting the fire and the moon shining on his hair.

No piece of art could replicate the man in front of me. It couldn’t make me feel the way he did or betray the depth of his heart.

Travis was the kindest, funniest, and most mesmerizing person I’d ever met. There was simply no denying it.

I’d never tell him that I might’ve found something in him that I’d never felt. I didn’t even know what it was, but as sure as my heart beat, it was there, festering and expanding. If I wasn’t careful, it might become impossible to excise without taking a dangerous chunk out of myself.