Everything I Never Told You ( Conan Gray )

XXXIV. Bluebell & Blues

"Mom took me to places every Sunday," he said, pointing at the pictures above the fireplace. Some of them were of them in random ranches, others of them having a picnic beside a lake, few in amusement parks and in museums. "I looked forward to the weekends."

"You should have seen him pull me to the car every Sunday back then," Miss Locke said, looking at her son lovingly. Something about their relationship really pleased Cone. He wasn't sure if he wanted kids with anyone but if this was what having them was like, he couldn't wait.

"Where is that one from?" Conan asked, pointing towards a picture with a silver encrusted frame. Heath was smiling at the camera, eyes closed and some of his friends surrounded him staring at his face with lifeless eyes. It looked like some odd cult ritual.

"Me and my friends were summoning a demon, photo credits to Ali Pratt," Heath laughed, brushing his thumb against the picture. "Mom freaked out so much that she made me read the Hebrew Bible everyday of the month."

The fact that Heath was Jewish hit him really hard. He tried to act not surprised at all as if he knew everything about him. Something about the glint in his amber eyes told him that he understood he was struck hard.

"I will get you both bluebell, okay?" his mom said, patting Conan on the shoulder.

"You didn't know I was Jewish right?" he smiled as his mother went out of earshot.

"I did," Conan scoffed, tucking his hands in his pockets.

"Right," he said sarcastically and rolling his eyes.

"Okay, I didn't," he squeaked, flustered. "But I have seen your be decorated every winter for Christmas."

"That's because I liked the holiday and didn't want to be left out," he said as-a-matter-of-factly. "Hanukkah usually gets over before Christmas so...Mom, do you need help?"

"I mean it would be cool if you could help me put these in bowls," his mom replied from the kitchen. The two of them made their way to her and helped her put out three bowls of bluebell ice cream. They sat on the porch swing, laughing and discussing some past events that had perspired in the town not long ago.

"I will drop him," Heath said, getting up and going in, probably to get the car keys.

"I will just walk," he protested. "It's just two streets."

"Exactly," he said. "It won't take much time for me to drop you."

Heath went in to grab the keys and his mom smiled at him brightly, her eyes closed. Conan tried to give her his widest smile to assure he was a good guy.

"Thank you for taking care of my boy," she said, putting her bowl aside. "It means a lot that look out for him."

"It's kind of a mutual friendship," he added.

"He just never comes back home," she said dolefully. "He came back after two years(after sophmore year) and that too when he was compelled to."

"I think he doesn't have nice memories in the town," he said his mom looked hurt. "I didn't mean he doesn't love you. He does. But you were the only person in town that he was around."

"You are the first friend he bought back home excluding Julian but then again he wasn't a friend," she said, sounding inexplicably sure. "Hector, Rob and Bowen, all of his friends never visited."

Conan could feel his heartbeat hammer through his ribcage and he wondered if Miss Locke could hear it. He was almost certain that Heath liked him back but he was sick of playing around with him. It was Ali Pratt all over again, he was being strung along and yet he endured it. Maybe Heath just needed more time. Maybe it would take an year for him to admit. Even, decades. But what was the point of waiting around? He would eventually stop liking him once he admitted it because it would months. Maybe he should just put his cards down for him to see.

"I didn't know that," he said, immersed in his own conflicted thoughts. "Well, I am just glad he likes my company."

"I am too."

Heath walked out, waving the car keys in his direction and beckoning him forward.

The silence in the car was the loudest thing Conan had ever heard. It was the worst kind of silence because it was awkward. Neither of them looked at each other but each other's presence caused enough tension. Conan didn't know how to make small talk. It was an adverse effect of mostly talking to people he was close to. Once he caught him looking over at his face, his eyes fixed at the edge of his face and he immediately looked away with a flustered look. He could never hide the slightest of emotions or blushes.

He opened his mouth and snapped it shut. It was probably best for him to not say anything because he would say something stupid about the weather and the other would agree.

Should he confess tonight? Or was it best to leave it be for a while? Heath was in a good mood, the weather was favourable and he was feeling daring.

"I have thinking of this thing for while," he suddenly and he looked at him suspiciously. "I just think I should come right out and say it."

"Say what?" he asked, his eyes fixed on the road.

What if he freaks out and we have an accident?

"I-I think that"-I am so fucking stupid-"it would be best if we drive to Austin together tomorrow. Like carpooling? Mother nature would be proud."

He must have seemed really dodgy because he didn't seem to believe that was his true question. Chickening out only unsettled him further. The deep void, that had been crawling with flapping butterflies in his stomach was now erupting with impatience.

"Yeah, that would be cool."

"Five tomorrow morning?" he asked.

"Yeah," he said.