Page 52 of Incompatible
So damn scared.
I can’t lose him. Ever.
???
The second year of high school starts for both me and Bay, with Bay playing with the band at the opening ceremony and me cheering for him louder than anyone else, since I’m basically his biggest fan.
This year he and I have almost all our core classes together, Bay sits right next to me in Algebra 2.
Our status is still a mystery to everyone at school, but nobody really asks anymore, they’ve just let it go.
When we walk together through the hallways, with our ridiculous height difference, people treat us like some kind of conjoined twins, almost inseparable, and only during electives are we apart, but Bay always makes sure to stand outside my classroom after the bell rings and wait for me.
I’ve pretty much moved into their house by now. Every day his parents drive me up to the Nolan estate where I have a late lunch with them, and afterward Bay and I go to his room to do homework and work on his music channel. Bay plays and sings, and I help him edit everything and upload his videos online.
My dad is fine with it. He spends long hours at the courthouse and sometimes doesn’t come home until ten at night, and he doesn’t want me sitting alone at home. Ever since Uncle Dimitri died he’s had this overwhelming guilt that work pulls him away from what’s happening at home and I’m constantly left on my own.
But now that my friendship with Bay has grown so tight, I’ve sort of gained a second home. I’m not alone anymore. I have the Nolans supporting me, and I get along with them so well, sometimes even better than they get along with each other. I feel great in their house, safe, welcomed, like they’re happy to see me every time I walk in, making me feel like I’m part of their family.
But all of this is part of the picture of my friendship with Bay, not part of the romantic thing between us which, for reasons I don’t understand, can’t seem to manifest. So I keep coming over, but there is still this unanswered question living inside me all the time: why am I only his best friend from school? What’s wrong with me?
These months are still innocent and carefree, but even then something is coming, something huge, like a storm front rolling in, and I have no idea what’s ahead.
At the end of October Bay is asked to play at the school Halloween party. The principal appreciates his talent and has been involving him in more and more events.
Everyone’s getting their costumes ready, Bay wants to go as a zombie angel with dark, broken wings, and I’m planning to show up as a necromancer. I do it on purpose, since necromancers are supposed to be able to raise the dead, and on some level that’s exactly what I wish I could do for Bay.
Why? Because Bay exists on two levels.
There’s the one he shows the world, where he smiles and talks and interacts with people in a way that almost seems natural, but isn’t, really.
Underneath it all there’s something I can’t understand and can’t reach no matter how hard I try, something like a strange core of darkness he protects fiercely.
No matter how close I am to Bay or how much time we spend together, there’s a huge barrier between us that I can’t cross.
I fight it, I try to figure it out, to break it apart, to lift whatever that thing is, but nothing works. Sometimes, when we sit next to each other, I grab his hand just to play around, and he waits only for the moment when he can pull it away in a manner that looks natural. When I lean against him, his whole body tenses, like he wants to grow sharp thorns and push me away. Sometimes I think maybe the problem is me.
Maybe I’m repulsive, since I get those patches of atopic rash on my face, and I’m always coughing, and my asthma attacks show up every few days. I know I’m not the picture of a healthy, vibrant omega teenager, but for some reason I don’t think any of that bothers Bay.
He always worries about my allergies, checks ingredients online whenever we eat anything to make sure nothing will set me off, he always makes sure I carry my EpiPen and inhaler,and he does it with this real, warm care. Sometimes I feel like he worries about me more than my own dad.
That’s why I sometimes wonder if he sees me as a younger brother, but when I think about it more, that doesn’t feel like the answer either.
Sometimes I talk to my dad about it. In freshman year he seemed very pleased that Bay kept his distance, but now in sophomore year even he seems a bit surprised by how strong that distance still is.
One morning while we’re having breakfast before school he says,
"You know, there might be another reason Bay doesn’t want to be your boyfriend…"
I see him hesitate as he rubs his chin a little, then he adds,
"A few days ago I talked to a psychologist who was helping one of the boys from a case I’m working on. Part of the picture was that this boy avoided any kind of close or romantic relationships, and the reason was that he had been sexually abused."
I stare at him and the silence becomes so heavy and deep I don’t know what to say, because something like that just doesn’t fit in my mind.
"But I know their family. I don’t believe anything is happening there…"
"It doesn’t have to be the family, Alex. It doesn’t even have to have happened at home. It’s a delicate topic and I don’t know if you should ask him directly, not if he’s never shown any wish to talk about this. But you could test his reaction indirectly. Mention the boy from the case I’m handling and see if his reactions seem natural or if he gets tense and wants to end the conversation."
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