chapter twenty-seven

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C A L E B 

After that God awkward moment, Mateo went back to acting like nothing had ever happened and was peacefully stacking away some books in the other side of the room with his back turned towards me. Occasionally, he would ask me random questions and I would tell him to shut up and focus on his work instead, to no avail. 

"What kind of music do you like?" he suddenly questioned after a satisfying twenty minutes of silence. 

"Rhythm and Blues," I responded bluntly. 

He let out a hum in response and went back to taking care of his work. I was busy stacking the old notebooks in one corner and the new ones in an other when I came across a peculiar notebook. It looked like it had been in good care, unlike the rest of the books, and had the words 'Mateo Bonavich' sprawled across the front page in black ink. 

I shouldn't have, but my curiosity overtook me and blurred my senses of right and wrong and I began to skim through the pages. It seemed to be Mateo's journal from when he was still in high-school. I smiled to myself reading his entries about how captivated he was by music and how he would love to pursue music as a side-job in the future. 

As the entries went on, they grew more personal. He went from talking about his favourite colour, to his taste in music, to giving a brief profile of his friends, to talking about how his days at school were, to talking about losing friends, to talking about being bullied at school, to talking about how his parents would constantly argue with him, and so on.

And when I reached the final page, my heart nearly stopped. It was an entry made on his last day of high-school. In it were the following;

Dear Diary,

Today mom and I fought again. The neighbours complained about the noise and she told them to fuck off, which was not very nice of her. 

Ironically, that reminded me of when he had told me to fuck off. 

This time we fought over something more personal. Dad ended up getting involved, too. They called me a lot of names which I won't be getting into because you already know, haha. Anyway.. we fought because mom found my other journal where I wrote about personal things. She found out that me and Brandon kissed and now she knows that I'm gay. 

Before I could continue reading, a hand reached out from behind me and grabbed the journal from my hands. I quickly turned around to apologize to Mateo for having invaded his privacy, but shut my mouth when I noticed how close he was standing. 

"Hmm," he hummed, having one of his hands stuffed into his pocket as he scanned the page with his head tilted. Then, he broke out into a smile and tossed the book to the side where I had placed all the old books. "I remember that day like it was yesterday."

"I'm sorry for-," I began but he cut me off by flicking my forehead and shooting me a warm smile, "There's nothing to be sorry about, I get it, you got curious right?"

I nodded sheepishly, "But that doesn't give me the right-"

"It's normal human nature," he shrugged before stepping back a little when he noticed our proximity. "Do you wanna know more?"

"But would that be fair?" I questioned, digging my nails into my palm when an overwhelming feeling of guilt overtook me. "I don't want you to feel forced into telling me about your past just because I read your journal."

"There's no point in keeping anything from you now. So do you want to know or not?"

"How can I refuse?"

"Alright then," he started before taking his seat on the floor, leaning against the wall. He patted the empty space next to him, looking over at me. "Come here."

I complied and sauntered over to where he sat and took my place next to him. We were sitting so close, our shoulders were brushing against each other - and I felt those sparks of electricity again which was driving me absolutely insane. What on Earth was this feeling?

"I was fourteen when I realized that I was gay," he began after clearing his throat for a more dramatic effect. "It happened when I was playing truth or dare with my guy friends at some stupid sleepover. They dared me to kiss my best friend, Brandon. I didn't want to be called a chicken because I was already being bullied enough at school for being an absolute dumbass, so I did it. Brandon was disgusted so I pretended to be too, but I felt a little guilty I guess.."

"Why?" I questioned softly when he trailed off.

"Because I wasn't entirely repulsed by it. Dare I say, I kind of liked it. I enjoyed it. But I didn't feel those butterflies that people always talk about when they're in love. I just felt like.. it was right. I'd never felt that way before whenever I'd kiss a girl - and that was when I knew that I liked guys."

"That's.. ah, I don't know what to say-"

"My mom kicked me out a while after she found out and told me to fend for myself. That day we were arguing over the phone because she wanted me to go to some stupid conversion camp so I could live with her and we'd be a happy family again. But the thing is, we were never a happy family in the first place."

When he finished, he took a deep breath and turned to face me. I did the same - and at that moment, I felt more connected with him than I had ever felt before. I don't know what came over me, but I reached my hand out and placed it on top of his which was resting on the floor in an effort to comfort him. He gave me a thankful smile in return.

"Caleb?" he said softly.

"Hm?"

"What about you?" he questioned, shifting impossibly closer and lowering his voice to a whisper. "What's your story?"


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