Birds || Fuenciado

Chapter 9: The Window

"I fucking chickened out!"

Alex blinks, eyebrows raised, and rubs his face before replying. "You what?"

"I was going to kiss him," I start over, less emphatic this time, and Alex, half awake and surrounded by several open textbooks and a pad of notepaper, makes an effort to engage himself. "I was literally centimetres away from his face and I talked myself out of it. I literally - I just - I want to die, right now."

"Oh, Vic!" Alex sighs, tilting his head. "Why'd you chicken?"

"I just...I was so wrapped up, looking at him," I despair. "I was so stuck in this bubble and then all of a sudden, I just...reminded myself that I and my entire life is a pain in the ass. I convinced myself he doesn't want me. Why would he?"

"You have to stop thinking that," he shakes his head, and runs a hand through his hair, straightening his fringe out. "Vic, you aren't a pain in the ass. The way your life is...it's out of your control."

"But the fact that it's a mess remains."

"Victor," he says sternly, adjusting his laptop screen to give a better angle. "You have got to learn to be kinder to yourself. You beat yourself up so much. Answer me this: is your situation ever going to change? Is your alopecia going to stop? Will Mike ever be in remission from epilepsy? Will your dad ever be completely mentally well? Will your family ever be lottery winners?"

I frown. "Well...I doubt it."

"You and your family have been dealt a shitty hand. It sucks, and it makes you feel like a wreck. I get that, I totally do, and I wish I could come and give you lots of hugs to make you feel better. But if these problems are issues that are here to stay, are you going to let them run your life forever?"

"I...I'd like to think not."

"So why not start now?" He smiles. "Sooner or later, you'll let somebody into your life."

I'm quiet for a moment and run a hand through my stupid patchy hair, before I sigh and scoff. "I really want it to be him."

Alex reaches around the side of the screen and produces a steaming cup of what I assume is coffee. Where he is, it must be almost quarter to midnight, and he's still studying. Sympathetic and the gentle man I know, he cocks his head and smiles softly. "Seems like you're answering a bunch of your own questions. But hey, I know how scared you are. Don't try to force yourself. You'll know when you're ready to let your guard down, and then it will be right. Don't worry your head, there's enough going on in there."

"You're right, Lex," I sigh again. "Thanks."

"No trouble, man," he winks, having a sip of his drink. I hear the TV volume turned up a few notches downstairs, so I turn up the volume on my laptop in return.

"So, Alex. How are you doing?"

"I'm good!" He chirps, and suddenly darts to his right, half disappearing out of frame. "Look what arrived in the mail today...hold on..."

A few moments later, he reappears, holding up a letter that I can't read on the screen, but I recognise the crest at the top of the page; the Native American figure set in a blue C...

"Is that from Clairemont?" I start, and Alex grins and turns the letter around, reading it out.

"Dear Mr Gaskarth," he starts, "as the month of October begins and season's festivities are coming into place, the time has come to organise the annual Old Clairemonts' Halloween Evening..."