Someone Like True

XVIII

Marlowe's parents didn't call for weeks. Christmas was creeping up quickly, beneath every thought. Finals were coming even faster, and Lowe was trying to figure out classes for the next semester if he truly was going to switch his major.

True wished Lowe's parents would call. He hated how defeating the silence was, to the point of creating sickening white noise that never stilled, the constant glancing at the phone, the way Lowe's face was set a little less happy than before, a little less bright.

"You should call them." True tried for what felt like the millionth time.

"No."

"At least call Nick, I mean-"

"It's not my problem anymore, True, okay? I'm not going to beg for them to forgive me when I did nothing wrong."

The silence pulled itself over the moment, soaking up the air and squeezing the life out of the room.

"It's hurting you more than you're letting on."

Lowe didn't respond, tapping his pencil staccato against his paper.

"I know you. It's not healthy for you to be like this. I just want you to think about yourself."

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" Exasperated, Lowe tossed the pencil down and turned to look at his boyfriend.

"I think you're denying the fact that you can't live without your parents in your life. I think you're deflecting, and pretending like what happened doesn't hurt. I think you're afraid of what it would be like to be independent from them, and I think you're scared what I might think of you if you go back to them."

All the breath escaped Marlowe. No one gave True enough credit- he was a genius. That, or a mind reader. Either way, he'd read Marlowe like a worn book, the pages soft from fingers flipping through them a hundred times, words faded but memorized so they'd never disappear.

"You know I wouldn't judge you for that, right? For wanting their approval?" True was gazing at him with pleading eyes- silently begging him to understand. His intentions always came from the heart, and Marlowe couldn't deny that.

"I know," sighing, he rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"Call them."

"Okay."