Staying Grounded [BXB]

Unscripted

CRAIG:

"I envy you, Choirboy."

Straightening up off the bistro's wall, I startle Mikey enough that if he didn't still have a hold on the door, his butt likely would have met the pavement.

"Craig? Shit!" The strap of his backpack slips from his shoulder as he whirls on me. He's just finished his shift, dressed all in black, a tie loose around his collar. And for the briefest instant, I catch a glimpse of his lost-puppy appeal. "What the fuck?"

"I envy you so goddamn much, and you don't even deserve it."

Pitch-dark eyes rake over my face, bewildered. Then, glancing all about himself, he lets go of the door and hesitantly steps out to join me on the street. "Um...Thanks?"

"You're no better than me," I keep talking. "You're mouthy and awkward, and there's nothing remotely special about you whatsoever. Yet, you get to have everything I can't, so easy."

It wasn't my intention to hunt Mikey out. My brother is who I planned to confront. The words rolling from my tongue right now have come from nowhere.

I parked Roxy up outside Alex's house (and there she remains), I got out and crossed the road to his gate, but I could not make that final move to knock on the door. Because it would've felt like salt on a freshly opened wound if he refused me again, and if he did agree to hear me out, what then? What would I even say? The stakes felt too high, the risk far too great.

So, instead...

Instead, I walked away. And kept on walking.

"A far healthier way to deal," Sebastian's told me before. Although, I don't think walking-to-avoid-facing had precisely been what he meant.

I put one foot in front of the other over and over again until I lost count.

I stopped when I failed to escape my head.

Now, here I am, lurking outside Citreena's, half a bottle of JD down. And I'm feeling no less exposed, like the 'mistake' I so rashly made has been tattooed over every last inch of me, the damning truth of it laid bare for all to see. I'm also cold, my jacket left behind (again) in my rush from the farmhouse. The chill night air is seeping bitterly through my thin shirt — still a little damp in patches — and Mikey is staring as though he's not quite sure I'm human.

But this scrote's opinion of me doesn't matter. My head shakes as I unscrew the lid of my bottle, lifting it to my lips and swigging a mouthful. "You were caught kissing a boy, just as I was." The words continue coming. "It became this big scandal, and you drank yourself stupid, same as me."

"I'm actually expected... elsewhere," he cuts in. "So—"

"Except," I don't let him finish. "You come out, and it's like, level complete or some shit, you're instantly accepted by the whole wide world. You win Tate. You keep Lyndsay. You're free of Tinwell. Top score."

"Is there a point to you telling me this, Craig? Or are you just—"

"I came out today."

"Oh." He blinks. "Wow. Okay."

I take another drink. "Yeah. It felt pretty damn incredible."

"Con...gratu...lations, I guess?"

"Nope. Not even close. Because once a fuck up, always a fuck up, right? The guy I want isn't mine to have, and acceptance won't ever happen for me." My pitiable tone grates on my last nerve. "There's nothing I can do about it. There's nowhere I can go and nobody I can talk to."