Alex hadn't fully forgave me though. He was a bit less up for more physical contact than that quick hug and little peck of the lips. I didn't mind though. He was close to being raped by a guy he had actually been willing to have sex with. But not then. No, he was just hysterical and fucked up. He just needed at the moments I was taking to Stella, I girl I couldn't help but love the tiniest bit.
I'm gay, right? Well, I don't like other men and I hadn't really cared much about my girlfriends, but Holly. She was never the one, but I let her know everything, let her know more than she should have ever known. I fucking hated her now, her leading to a mess mine and Alex's relationship. I didn't know whst it was about Stella though. Maybe I was just a comforter but I liked the sence of comfort she gave me. I didn't have to tell her much, but she was understanding. She wasn't like much of the other girls in this town. Most of them were bitches or totally unattractive to me. I don't know why I even like Stella for I had Alex, who is my one and only, and I'm his.
"Forgive me, I'm trying to find. My calling, I'm calling at night," I started humming, Alex just looking at me with narrow eyes.
"What're you doing?" he asked, his eyes a bit puffy. He was crying a lot. It was probably because he wasn't letting me touch him, therefore I couldn't comfort him and try to drive the tears away.
"Just making up a tune," I sighed, getting up. The line. It made sence. It wasn't just something like a crappy pop song out of the charts. I was waiting for my calling, waiting my life to actually start. To be able to fulfil childish dreams. It just made me the tiniest bit sad, me walking up the stairs and closing the bedroom door behind me. I grabbed my secret song book out from under the wardrobe, opening it on the first page. I've had this for years, the songs being written better as the pages went on. The first ten pages or so were filled with songs I thought sounded good when I was younger, but they actually sound like shit. Songs involving quick lines, barely fitting in the words before the next line had to start.
As I flicked the pages, I neared all the songs I had wrote from my teenage years, them so moody and mysteriously written. There was one I actually liked, but I never had the singing voice for it. I wasn't ever much of a singer.
"Make it a sweet, sweet goodbye. It could for the la-" but I choked on the tears, not ever able to get through the second line. I had wrote it for my mother. I would just fuck up every time I sang it, another reason why I can't sing. I've never tried to hard. This song just instantly let me creep closer and closer to the edge.
I snapped the book closed, throwing it onto the floor, it sliding across.
I just buried my head in the pillows, hoping it would smother me. But I breathed as I choked on the sobs.
I was such an emotionally unstable person. I couldn't go too long without thinking about my past and getting all shakey and tearing up. I couldn't think about my present either.
It was true, and I knew it, I was going nowhere, and it had to change. I couldn't just waste my days, stay totallu devoted to Alex as he got on with his life.
Where to go? The mall.
---
Surprisingly yet unsurprisingly, Stella was there in the coffee shop, near the entrance. She caught sight of me, instantly smiling and beckoning me over.
"Jack, I actually don't know much 'bout you, WTF?" she said instantly, saying 'WTF' sarcasticly.
"I'm Jack Barakat. Male. 20. Gay. What more do you actually need to know?" I said, he nodding with a slight frown.
"Stella Adavana. Female. 18. Unknown. I guess I'm straight for gay guys if that makes sence," she said with a slight blush.
"Stella, you're straight but you find gay guys attractive. You will soon find a straight guy who just happens to look gay," I joked, her blushing even more.
"Where's your boyfriend?" she murmured, taking a sip from her coffee cup.
"He's at home," I said, thinking that was enough to be said.
"Pity," she said. "We could do something, y'know?"
"Yeah," I sighed, shaking my head. "I just need to get out of the house."
"We can go to a club later. You invite your friends and I'll invite mine."
"Sure," I said. Hopefully Alex will loosen up enough that he will stop being so paranoid with the smallest touch.
"See you," I said, getting up from my seat and giving her a kiss on the cheek, walking out of the coffee shop with my hands shoved down my jeans' pockets.
I don't know why I seemed to give her a kiss goodbye. It just kept me comforted. Maybe I should stop it though. She might get the wrong idea.
I spent a few unnessasary hours in the mall, picking out mostly clothes I thought Alex would like, buying him a few new plaid shirts in different colours, a new pair of skinny jeans for me. I walked home with the few bags in my hands, noticing a van on the curb. When I went in the door, an unexpected Rian was there, Alex smiling as he talked to him. Why was he being so stuborn witj me but was being nice to a mere high school friend? I dropped the bags in the hall, walking into the sitting room and let myself drop down on his lap.
"Jacky, get off," Alex laughed. For some reason, he was in a better mood. Maybe Rian lifted his spirits.
"Okay," I said, giving him a peck on the cheek before moving off him and sitting on the seat next to him.
"Long time, no see, Rian," I said with a smile, Rian giving me his way more white and dazzling one. No one could beat it. Well, maybe Alex could, for me.
"Nice to see you again. I was actually outta town. Just got back. I was allowed my job back," he smiled.
"I got invited to a club and I'm allowed to invite others. Wanna come, Rian?" I asked, him nodding.
"Yeah, sure. Can I invite Z-Zack?"
"Of course," I said, giving him a pat on the back.
"I better get going. See you tonight, Alex, Jack," he said, getting up from his seat on the couch, waving at us as he went out the door.
"Who invited you to a club? You have no friends," Alex hissed.
"Alex, stop being an asshole. I said I'm sorry. It not my fault that dick decided to come in the house. And I do have friends."
"No you don't," he murmured, crossing his arms over his chest.
"One more than you," I said, getting up from my seat, going up the stairs. I guess he was using his charade with other people now, not caring if he acted like a total prick around me and to me. I have said sorry more that fifty times and he was still being like that. It wasn't fair at all.
I just felt like I should just walk out again, leave him with his pissy self. But no, I stayed, sitting on my bed with my eyes on the open window.
