THE JOCK JUST WANTS THE NERD [2]

77

||JACKSON||

It was a spiraling mixture of conflicting thoughts and expressions. I felt like an exhibit as they all just stared at me. It was indeed suffocating, and it was as if my body had turned to stone. The muted atmosphere was almost unbearable when my mother interrupted, "are you being serious?" Her brows scrunched inward with concern.

Avoiding her gaze, I nodded silently.

"Jack..." my father mumbled.

Even after finally coming clean, why do I feel like I'm not satisfied yet? Like the bottled-up feelings chained and weighed me down. "I'm sorry..." my lids shut, engulfing into the darkness.

"This is..." my mother whimpered, standing up as the legs of the chair creaked backwards. I snuck a quick glance at her, she's in distraught, shaking her head from side to side.

"Dear?" My dad mumbled, reaching out for her.

"You're not joking? Jackson, tell me the truth," Her voice was starting to raise. I look at her with wide eyes, head shrunk to my shoulders.

"Mom," Alfred tried to intervene.

She continued to huff, refusing to accept the outcome. As I remained seated, all I could feel was my heart twisting painfully, soon it transported to my throat and I could feel tears of frustration and dismay forming. Just before they started to fall down my face, my mother stormed out to the backyard sliding doors and shut them. Those who kept at our spots observed the glass wobble. Alfred looked at me with pity as my vision blurred with rising dampness. Then, I felt him lean in closer and pulled himself to hug my side.

"I'm... sorry," Sobbing, trying to wipe away the wet areas but it was useless since it kept falling endlessly.

Dad frowns with a sad look before turning once more to where mom had disappeared to, "I'll go talk to your mother," he lets out a breath before excusing himself. Once he followed her, we were left alone at the table with my low cries. My younger brother wasn't the best at sympathy, but he was displaying his best, rubbing my shoulders in a motion in an attempts for comfort.

"Do you wanna go up to your room for privacy?" Alfred proposed.

I couldn't even bear to answer properly as I just got up from my feet. With his company, he leads us both up and we eventually came back to my old room. My limbs were trembling and I wanted to pass out. I couldn't remember the last time I felt so weak and broke down like this.

It hurts so much.

Trudging, dragging my entirety, my body collapsed to the bean bag. "Jack..." Alfred rustled, I could feel his presence just behind me, standing.

"I'm a fucking disappointment..." my words kept flowing with every self-deprecating words. Body curling into a ball.

Misfortune.

Let down.

Failure.

Even though it was only my mother's opinion that displayed resentment, I couldn't help it. It makes me feel like everything is my fault! What makes it worse, is why exactly is it my responsibility to have this feeling of guilt?

"Jack..." Alfred's voice sounded tight.

Peeking through my fingers, I could see how dejected he was. "What, are you saying?" He croaked.

"Would you hate me... because I'm gay?" I howled out in sorrow.

"No!"

Alfred wailed, he was beginning to shed tears that flowed from him alternatively, "Jackson, don't say you're a disappointment. Because you're not!"

"Calling yourself all of that, shut the fuck up! You're not defective..."

"Gay, so what? Am I supposed to hate you? To hell with that,"

Alfred exploded into a series of outcries as he starts pouring out.

"If you're upset about mom, forget about it. Who cares what she thinks. Please stop beating yourself up."

At this point, he was losing his mind. I stare at him as he was shattering apart with a twinge of pang. He returns a look with the look of someone equally in pain.

"I... don't like seeing you like this. Jack, you're my big bro. Please, stop crying..." he weeps, head drooped when he slams his palms to cover his face.

Mouth ajar whilst I observed him, sat on this sack. I hated seeing him like this too. As of result, I went in and wrapped around as I pulled him to my chest. Alfred continued to weep our behalf. Here, we settled in each other's embrace as his fingers caressed the hem of my shirt. My chin buried on his hair, instead, I was now the one comforting my sibling.

My mind repeats a sentence from his burst.

I'm not defective.

-

It has been about 15 minutes when the two of us started calming down. Never have I thought I'd see us appear so vulnerable, especially in front of one another. When the noise died down, all we did was rest into our huddle. Alfred was tucked within my arms while we laid down on the folded bean bag.

"Hey... Jacks?"

My eyes tilted down to look at him.

"Yeah..." I mumbled softly, rubbing his arm.

"I'll never hate you... you're my brother, and I honestly do not care if you're gay."

"...Of course I still love you dude. This won't change my mind..."

Alfred finished before he went quiet again. In a matter of time, I noticed that he had tired himself out and got knocked down into sleep.

Blinking, I shuffled to into a posture and kneeled down. Digging my arms underneath him, I lifted him up, stepped out of this room, and entered his bed. Carefully like he was fragile, I proceeded to his cushiony mattress and slowly lowered him. After I blanketed neatly, my knuckles gently caressed his cheek.

"Goodnight, Al."

As faint as feasible, I closed the door after leaving.

...

I didn't even bother saying goodbye to my parents, nor did I look for them because they weren't even in the living room. I just passed and went out of the house and into my car.

I was exhausted, consumed with so much negativity. It didn't end in the best way. At this point, I've torn a few aspects already. My mind was apprehending properly.

All I want is to just be with Ethan right now.