Hey, Mr. In Denial (LBGT)

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

He yells my name as I run out of Starbucks, and every word that gets out of his mouth sends a stabbing feeling in my heart. It seems like my world is spinning, and I'm suddenly getting dizzy. I feel like I'm going to be sick, and vomiting is the only resolution to that. Tears prick my eyes, stinging as I fight the tears from falling down. I don't know what I've done wrong, but I just can't keep dealing with this s**t. I have had too much, and this must end. I don't know what I have to do, or what I need to do, in order for this feeling to get away, all I know is that I have to get out of here, away from him, where he wouldn't be utter a word to me, where his words would not send a stabbing feeling in my heart.

I haven't done anything wrong yet this is what I get.

This isn't love yet, but it's the path to love. I swear to myself that I'm not going to be broken again yet here I am, breaking slowly, pieces of my heart breaking into another million pieces. This is what I don't get in life. We try to make our life happy as much as possible, but there are shits happening always. What's worse is you don't have a control of them. You don't have a control of what's going to happen. And everyone expects you to be happy about it.

That's not right.

It's never going to be right.

I feel like I'm never going to be alright.

He's not going to be mine.

The air is hastily getting out of my lungs, and each step I take makes me pant out loud. I squeeze into the crowded area of the street, trying to get out of here as fast as possible. I just want to be away from him. I just want to think things through. I don't him in my heart. I don't want him in my head. I don't want to have a feelings for him. Is it too much to ask for? I can't believe that this is happening to me where all I try to do is be happy with my decisions in life.

Dale is never right for me, and he will never have feelings for me. Is God mocking me right now? Is he having fun by seeing me messed up like this? People keep staring at me as I run, squeezing in between, trying to fight myself from crying. My tears are never worth it for him. It will never be. Tears will be worth it if I just let it out just for myself. Because in the end, I'm always by my own.

Breathing, taking a sharp intake of breath, I take a look over my shoulder and find that I've ran a long run. It seems like Dale wasn't able to catch me, and it seems like he stopped running after me. I just don't know what happened. Why would he say that? I mean, I know it's not a big deal, but he knows that I have this feeling for him. Perhaps he likes seeing me falling for him. He's an asshole.

But deep in my heart, I know that he isn't. He's better than being asshole.

Yes, he's a jerk, but only sometimes. I guess I just overreacted, but I can't help it. Everything inside me just snapped, and it felt like the world was against me. I feel like the world is against me. I perch my back on the bricked wall, looking up and finding that I'm in an ice cream store. Perhaps an ice cream will lift my spirits up. I feel my phone vibrating, but I have this feeling that Dale is the one calling me. I pick my phone up, and my assumption is true; it really is Dale the one calling me. I turn off my phone, not wanting to see even my name. It's not going to be worth it. He's not going to be worth it.

I keep telling myself that yet my heart still desires him. What's wrong with me?

Heading inside the store, taking a look at the menu, I already know what I'm going to order yet that doesn't stop me from skimming at their specialties. There's only one flavor I like when it comes to ice creams, and that will be the Chocolate flavor. Who doesn't love chocolates? It's, like, basically the gift of Heaven. I head into the counter, greeting the teenager boy, who looks like somewhere between 16 to 18 years old. With his glasses on and brown curly locks, and a bit freckles on his cheeks, he seems the nerd type of guy. His name is Charles, and he's kind of cute.

"Hi, I'll take one Chocolate ice cream, sugar cone." I order, still staring at the menu as if my mind is going to change. But it never does neither does my heart.

Charles looks at me, nodding his head, smiling brightly. "Chocolate ice cream on a sugar cone coming up!" he chirps, punching something on the monitor in front of him. I pull out my wallet and hand him a few dollars. He has printed out the receipt of my order, grinning up at me. "Please take a seat; I'll call out your name once your ice cream is ready. May I know your name please?" This is no Starbucks, and he doesn't need to ask me for my name.

There's this feeling inside me that he's hitting on me. Pouring the ice cream on a sugar cone will not take five minutes or so, but he's asking me to sit and wait for him to give me my ice cream. He asked for my name, and that's just adding to my suspicion. Yet I still tell him my name. "Beau." He's cute.

"Thanks," alright, he definitely wanted to know my name for personal interest. I narrow my eyes at Charles, and decide to take a seat rather than wait here. As he turns around, I can the glimpse of him grinning and it adds more to my belief that he really wanted to know my name for personal interest.

I still notice that I'm still wearing Dustin's varsity jacket and a sigh escapes my lips. I left him there with them. He's probably thinking that I'm weird by now, and I cannot really blame him. I overreacted than I shouldn't have. I take off the jacket, draping it on my shoulder while waiting patiently for my chocolate ice cream, but it's taking longer. A few minutes later, and he hasn't called my name yet, I decide to stand up and walk up to the counter. "Hey, um, I would just like to follow up..."

"Sure, Beau." He says my name like we're good old friends, and my eyebrows furrow. Definitely hitting on me, I think. He turns around, getting a sugar cone and scooping up a large scoop of chocolate ice cream. Once done, he hands it to me and I look at him, mouth agape. "I'm Charles, by the way."

Narrowing my eyes at him, I grab my chocolate ice cream out of his hand. I notice that there aren't customers except for me. His eyes glaze over my body, checking me out like I'm a piece of meat. He's openly checking me out, and I don't know whether I would be offended or not, but I think it's going to be the latter. "Hello Charles, thank you for making me wait." I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes. "I'd make sure to report you."

"Wait, what?" he asks me, eyes getting wide as he watches me in horror, mortified by what I've mentioned. He mutters something under his breath, pouting at me. I must admit, he's kind of cute when he does that, and I'd like to see him do it more. "Please don't. I need a job, and I don't want to be fired. I swear I love ice creams."

Chuckling at him, I shake my head. "I'm kidding." His expression brightens up, and he sighs in relief. He gives me another scan over, and I feel like I'm naked by his gaze. It feels like he's stripping me naked with his eyes staring intently all over me. "It doesn't seem like you're an ice cream fanatic though."

"I'm not?"

"Yes, you don't seem like it." I tell him, licking the edge of the ice cream that starts to melt. He looks at the gestures, and trains his eyes back on me. "Why did you ask for my name?"

"Wasn't it obvious?" he says sarcastically, rolling his eyes on me. "I was hitting on you." He says like it's the most natural thing in the world to say. I ignore him sarcasm. "I noticed that you were sad, but it's not really my business to ask you what the reason was."

"Just like it's not your business to ask for my name,"

He pouts, and I laugh at him. I turn on my heels, starting to walk away. I hear him ask me where I'm going, and I only answer him: "Away,"

With my chocolate ice cream in my hand, I decide that I should go home. I haven't really texted my mom and dad that I was going to sleepover at a friend, and I'm sure that they're pissed and sick worried at me. I'm far away from my house, considering that I've slept over at Dustin's house. Plus, we went to Starbucks and I ran away. Great. How am I supposed to go home?

Walking up to the edge of the path of the street, I stretch out my arm, catching the attention of a taxi driver and he stops just right in front of me. I climb into the backseat, telling the driver my address and I sigh in relief.

The feel of my phone inside my pocket feels heavy. There's this thought inside my head that tells me I should not text Dustin and that I should give him time to recover. From what? Fishing out the cellphone inside my pocket hesitantly, I stare at the blank screen of my phone, doing nothing but thinking. It feels heavy in my hand as if I'm carrying something heavy instead of a phone. This wasn't supposed to happen in the first place. I overreacted. What should I tell him though?

Hey Dustin. I would just like you to know that I overreacted. I just realized I like Dale, and it's more than infatuation. I can't help but to feel it, and whenever he's around me, he makes my heart beat faster, which shouldn't happen in the first place. I know I overacted, and I'm sorry for ditching you. I'll make sure that this won't happen again ever.

The message sounds ridiculous even to myself. I erase the message, feeling awkward all of a sudden. I should just give him a call and tell him I'm sorry for ditching him. Or meeting up with him will be a good idea. Sighing out loud, I put the phone back in my pocket, deciding that I'll just meet him on Monday, at the first day of school for the week, and tell him 'I'm sorry' right in front of his face. It will sound more sincere than a simple text. Fifteen minutes have passed and the taxi driver is pulling right in front of my house. I pull out my wallet and pay him a couple of dollars then climb out of the taxi. I thank him, and the taxi driver drives away. I head into my head, feeling heavy all of a sudden. Just right when I walk into the living room, a voice calls out to me and I yelp, putting a hand on my chest and staring at the culprit with wide eyes.

"What are you doing here?" I ask him.

Dustin just smiles at me awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. My mother gets out of the kitchen, eyeing him curiously but never says anything. Dustin gives my mother an awkward smile, and my mother shoots me the look that says we'll definitely talk later about Dustin. My mother gets upstairs, leaving us alone but not giving me one last look before she disappears as she goes into their room. Dustin just gives me an awkward smile, silence looming over us. Neither of us speaks; the words are stuck up in my throat, not escaping my lips. There are million thoughts running inside my head yet I can't even formulate a word.

"What are you doing here?" I ask him again, pursing my lips as he looks at me.

He remains silent for a while, not really sure of what to say. I motion for him to take a seat, which he does immediately. I take a seat just beside him, looking at him. His varsity jacket is still draped on my shoulder, and I give it to him. "Thanks," he says, pursing his lips. He's seeking for an answer why I ran away, and I'm not sure how to deliver the answer. "I understand why you ran. Everyone is not clueless but him."

My heart thumps loudly inside my chest, pounding hard and my hands are suddenly getting clammy. Nodding is the only thing I can do to acknowledge his statement; he understands that I ran away because of him, because he doesn't return the feelings back.

"I understand why you ran," he continues, putting a hand on my shoulder. "I definitely do. It sucks knowing that the person you like doesn't return the feelings, and I have definitely experienced that. I've been in that situation before, and I have survived it. Surprisingly."

"What did you do?"

"Kept myself busy," he simply answers. He heard the eagerness in my voice when I asked him what he did to let go of the person he liked, or loved for that matter, and he just answered my question in a simplest way. "Being busy will cloud up of your mind, making no room for him, and eventually you'll realize that what you have for him is fading slowly until it's all gone. It took me a couple of months, but it's definitely worth it. I think you should do that as well."

Staring at him as if he has just given me another life, I nod at him. He's right. I just need to keep myself busy, and my feelings will fade away. But what am I going to do? Where should I be busy? Should I busy myself with Dustin? Should I just, like, hang-out with him often and keep myself busy with him? Is that it? "I'll definitely do that. It's just hard to see the person you like likes someone else, and it's not you, you know. I just... overreacted. When he said that he knows a costume store, and that he'll share it only to me, it felt like I was special. It felt like it. It felt like I was special when I wasn't."

"You're special," he whispers, and his eyes hold mine while his hand cups my left cheek. I lean into it, staring at him, half-smiling. Suddenly he's leaning down, and I don't know how to react. His lips are just mere centimeters away from mine and if he leans down more, our lips will....