0.22

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0.22 - Saturday 6:20 p.m.

Maverick Bale

"Could you pass the salt, Cameron?" Rhys's mom, Jolie, asks my mom. She passes the salt, and immediately a conversation about a new salt they found at Whole Foods begins between the two mothers, with the fathers starting their own about some business thing.

Thankfully, the adults are too engrossed in their conversation to notice the icy silence at the children's end of the table.

Rachel and Kevin barely talk to each other, the burdens of middle school awkwardness. Rhys glares down at his plate, practically stabbing at his food. He's not even trying to hide his anger.

I eat slowly in the tense silence, if only to give myself something to do and make it appear that everything's fine, even though every second that ticks by drags my appetite away with it.

"So, how's your lacrosse going Maverick?" Rhys's dad, Dan, asks, so suddenly that I almost drop my fork in surprise. Rhys scowls. I clear my throat.

"It's great. We've won all our games so far, and it looks like we have a pretty good shot at winning league," I say, the most words I've said all night. Dan nods his head thoughtfully.

"Awesome. And the practices, not too tough? I heard the coach used to be in the army," Dan says. I wince, remembering the laps we had to run during practice on Thursday. At least they helped me keep my mind off of Rhys.

"Yeah, he's hardcore. But it keeps me busy, from parties and stuff," I say, because parents love to hear this, even though it's not true.

"Didn't keep you busy last night," Rhys mutters under his breath, but it's loud enough that everyone heard. I flush, returning to my food.

"Rhys, are you feeling okay?" Jolie asks Rhys, pausing in her conversation with my mom.

"I'm fine," Rhys says coldly. We all know it's a lie, but no one wants to make a scene, so the parents let it slide.

"Can we go upstairs?" Rachel finally asks. Our mom distractedly nods her head and doesn't stop her conversation with the other parents. Rhys, Kevin, Rachel, and I all get up to put away the dishes at the same time, habit from when we were younger and would run off all together to play hide and seek or Uno.

Now we're too old. I find myself wishing for those simpler days when Rhys and I were just best friends, nothing more, nothing less, and our roles were clear and simple.

Rachel and Kevin settle on the couches, phones out as a classic barrier to soften the eye contact that comes with quiet chitchat. Rhys and I walk upstairs to my room like we're heading towards the gallows. I try to relax the tension in my shoulders but it's no use, and I hear Rhys sigh irritably behind me.

The door closes once we're both inside, leaving us in a dark room, reminding me of the nights we kissed, so passionately I thought my skin might rip at the seams. I turn the lights on, and Rhys flinches.

"So, are you gonna tell me what you're so pissed off about?" I ask, unable to keep quiet any longer. Rhys crosses his arms.

"Are you serious?" Rhys asks.

"Yes, Rhys," I say, tired of him always keeping things from me, "can you just say how you feel for once?"

"Oh, because you express yourself so well? Like when you kissed me one day and made plans for Friday with me talking about paying you back and then you go hook up with Jackson at a party the first chance you get?"

"Hooking up with―is that why you're mad?" I ask, laughing in disbelief, "Because you think I hooked up with Jackson?"

"Don't try to deny it," Rhys says, jaw locked. I shake my head.

"You trust me that little?" It hurt more than I would like to admit. Didn't Rhys trust me? Obviously not.

"How could I when you constantly hook up with girls? And then with a guy? Am I supposed to think that suddenly because of me you're just gonna stop?" Rhys asks, his cheeks going red when he realizes what he said.

"Do you want me to stop? Because it didn't sound like that a few days ago," I say, remembering the cruel words that Rhys spoke just last Wednesday, sending everything to shit.

"Why would I want you to stop? So we could date? Be boyfriends?" Rhys asks, every word dripping in mockery, and I try not to flinch. "So we can pretend to our friends and family that we're just normal teenage boys that are best friends and hook up with girls on the weekends when really we're sucking each other's dicks when we're alone? Is that what you want? Is that what you want us to be? A dirty secret that no one will ever know about?"

"No! I don't want that," I say, lost and frustrated because the more Rhys talks the less I understand what he's trying to say. "I want us to be open. Out. I want everyone to know about us."

Rhys laughs humorlessly. "And I'm guessing we're just gonna come out together one day to everyone, holding rainbow flags and singing about our gay relationship? Yeah, that'd go down well."

"No, not that either. Fuck, Rhys, why are you making this harder than it is?" I ask, raking a hand through my hair and trying not to rip out the strands. Jesus fuck!

"Well, I'm not the one making promises then breaking them and going to parties with boys that I've already hooked up with and expecting everything to be fine!" Rhys shouts, and we go quiet, realizing that if we get any louder the rest of our families might hear us.

I lower my voice down to a harsh whisper. "Breaking promises? I never made any promises to begin with." Rhys narrows his eyes, and when he speaks, his voice is tight and vicious.

"Of course you didn't. You just use everyone how you want, never making any promises, never committing, and then when you're done you move on without even feeling guilty."

"But you were the one who didn't want any commitment!" I say, frustrated once again. I feel like I'm running in circles.

"I know!" Rhys says, scowling. "And I don't want to be boyfriends. But you can't hook up with me, then hook up with Jackson, and then expect me to sit here and wait for you to find me interesting again."

"For the last time, I didn't hook up with Jackson!" I say, my face burning with anger. Rhys stares at me, his mouth slightly parted, as if he's shocked that, in fact, I actually didn't hook up with Jackson. "And I don't expect to be boyfriends either. But you're different. I would never treat you like that. Come on, Rhys, how can you think so low of me?"

"You don't understand," Rhys says quietly, staring at the ground. He sounds more resigned than angry.

"Then help me understand," I say gently. With hesitant steps I walk towards him, watching to see if he protests. When he doesn't do anything but sigh deeply, I slide my arms around his waist. Rhys stiffens, then gives in, his head fitting right under my chin.

"I've never felt like this before," Rhys murmurs, his hands gripping the back of my sweatshirt tightly, as if afraid I'll leave at any moment.

"Like what?" I ask, my voice a whisper.

"Like I don't have any control. Like I'm one step away from falling but I'm walking in the dark." I notice that Rhys is trembling, like it's taking him every last ounce of strength to keep himself together.

"I feel that way too," I say, holding him closer. I almost tell him that's what falling in love is like.

Instead, I kiss him.

***

"So," Rhys says, his voice lighter and teasing, "did I pay you back enough?"

I zip up my pants, my breath still coming out quicker than normal. It had been a challenge to keep quiet so no one downstairs would hear us.

"Oh Rhys, babe," I say with a smirk, "I'll never get enough."

Rhys blushes and I steal one more kiss before we go downstairs.

We may still have problems to work out, but for now, we had found a little peace. I just wonder how long it will last. 

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