Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
“Jesus Motherfucking Christ,” Kyle whispered, running his hand through his hair. “This is such a mess.”
Jesus Motherfucking Christ is right.
I wanted to comfort him. I was used to having to console, but how could I help when I was freaking out just as much?
“I know, with everything in me,” he went on, “we can’t just do whatever about this. I get that. And I hope you know I’m the last person in the world who would ever want to hurt you or stand in the way of you doing the thing you love most.” He teared up. “But…I can’t lose you either, James. Your friendship. The things we’ve shared. I don’t want to stop talking to you or being around you. I can find a way to live without the rest. I’ll manage, but I can’t do with acting like I don’t give a shit about you.”
“I don’t want to do that either.”
He exhaled sharply, as though he’d been holding his breath. The sunlight pushing through the window blinds glistened in his eyes as he looked so worked up, he was holding back tears.
“Kyle, I’m having a hard time even understanding what happened. I knew I didn’t see you as just another student. And at first, it felt like we were becoming…friends. Even that, in a way, wasn’t appropriate, but that, I really needed. And enjoyed. It’s hard to say when, but it transformed into something else, and now I’m in over my head.”
“We’re both in over our heads, Big Man.”
It was the first time I’d heard him use one of my nicknames since we’d kissed, and something about it granted me a moment of relief. Maybe because it offered the false promise that things could return to the way they were before. Of course, to have never experienced that surge of passion that left everything before that moment feeling so trivial...the mere thought was torture.
He looked to the floor, his lips twisting into his cheek.
Even such a simple combination of intensity and vulnerability now appeared sexy, and I had to accept the shift that had taken place in my mind. I knew he was an attractive man when we’d met, but then it had felt like an appreciation of his aesthetic, like a work of art, a sculpture. But having gotten to know him, so much more of him, the shell around him seemed so trivial compared to the man I’d come to know, and yet made all the rest that much more desirable to me.
“So we agree?” he continued. “We can keep being friends, but we leave yesterday behind us and never tell anyone about it.”
“I don’t want you to have the burden of a secret like this on your conscience.”
“Trust me, Teach, of all my secrets, this one will be the easiest to carry.”
He offered a bitter smirk, and I knew he wasn’t joking. It made me think about that response he’d written, and what he’d told me about his father before our kiss. That he was willing to carry it meant more than he had any way of realizing.
“Good,” he added. “So we know where the line is. I’m not letting anything bad happen to you, James.” That was classic Kyle Forsythe, the protective guy I’d come to know…too well, it seemed.
But even as we entered into our agreement, I knew it would be easier said than done.
I’d felt too much. My legs still vibrated at the thought of his touch, how his body had pressed up against mine, his lips sealed against my own. It was an experience that confounded me, and how could something so human and rooted in my physicality help me transcend it?
“I’m gonna head out now,” he said.
No.
Yes. It was the only way this could be done.
“I think we’ve said all we can on this,” I forced out.
“I’ll see you this Saturday.” That sweet smile overtook his expression so effortlessly for a guy who so rarely offered it. Although, outside of school, I’d seen it enough times to know how just a tease or a joke could grant my gaze the privilege of its return.
For a second, it was powerful enough to have me fooled into believing that life could be so simple, that we could ignore the consequences of our actions. That we could pretend to distance ourselves from it while being able to cling to those aspects that kept us close together.
He pushed around me, heading across the class to the door, taking the handle before freezing in place.
“James,” he said, not turning to me. “Just one thing, and then I can be done with it.” Once again, I could hear his vulnerability, like when he’d opened up to me about that response he’d written. “What did it feel like…for you?”
I was torn between honesty and withholding for the sake of what we’d have to bear moving forward. However, considering the discussion we’d just had, I felt he deserved the truth, no matter how cruel it might be for us: Wet fire, hitting every nerve in my body, searing as it brought each one back to life. Scarred forever now that I know we could never recreate the magical moment we’d shared—that it could only ever exist as a fading memory, the cruel hands of time steadily stealing it from my grasp.