Not Ashamed

'Chapter Seven ✓×

I wake up in Johnathans roommates bed (he said his roommate is never here anyway, always at his girlfriend's apartment), to the sound of quiet arguing.

"I'm not going to take this anymore, Johnathan," Peter's distinct voice whispers fiercely. "I'm not going to take this kind of shit from you."

"What kind of shit, Petey, huh? What kind of shit am I forcing on you?" Johnathan snaps.

"You kick me out to let him stay here!"

"Keep your voice down! No need for him to be part of our relationship issues."

I assume the "he" they are referring to is me. Why am I such a problem for the two of them?

"Would it be different if it were Chloe in my room? Or Margo?" Johnathan says, his voice dripping with nagging innocence.

"Don't play that card, you know that's completely different!"

"He's in a separate bed! Tyler's bed, may I add. Tyler, who's also a boy."

"Tyler is different. Tyler is straight."

I take a deep inhale of breath, hoping not to catch either of their attentions. What is he trying to say?

I stay silent, not wanting the awkward moment of making my consciousness known.

"And what's Finn, a hairbrush?"

"You know what I'm trying to say."

"No I don't, Peter. Spell it out for me."

"I'm leaving. I'm not going to be treated this way."

"What way?!" Desperation drips from Johnathans words, his voice raising. "I'm not doing anything to you! You're just afraid! Afraid of me! Afraid of caring!"

"Johnath--"

"No, tell me what I'm doing wrong!"

There's a hard sigh before the door slams. I hear Johnathan whimper at the sound, before hearing him fall to the ground.

"Finn..." He says quietly. "Finn, I know we've woke you. I'm sorry."

I roll over to see him. He has tears on his cheeks, his hair rumpled as if he had ran his fingers through it a million times. I slip out of the covers, walking over to his side and sliding down so I'm leaned up against the wall beside him.

"What am I doing wrong?" He asks me. I shrug, my shoulder brushing against his.

"I can't tell you. What was that all about?"

He sighs, laying his head on his knees. "He's angry with me. He thinks I'm unfaithful."

"Why would he think that?"

"I don't know. He's looking for something, a reason to break up with me. I'm sorry you've been sucked into it."

My eyes move from him onto my feet, saying, "Why have I been sucked into this?"

"Peter seems to think I have feelings for you. And that you feel the same way. He thinks that me allowing you to stay in my room means that I'm in love with you for something." He looks up from where he's hidden his face. "I apologize if this is awkward."

"No, not at all. I mean, it is, a little, but I want you to talk about it. It'll help, won't it?"

"I suppose."

He pulls himself off of the ground, straightening the wrinkles in his jeans. He runs his hand through his already incredibly messy hair.

"Finn, can I ask you a question?" He squeaks weakly.

"Sure."

He inhales and turns to look at me. "Is it so selfish of me to want him to love me?"

I shake my head. "No," I say. "Not at all."