He turned to me and asked, “Why did you lie to me about dating someone? C’mon, dude. If you didn’t want to say you liked guys, then why did you play the pronoun game?”

“I wanted you to speak. I told you already,” I whispered. “And, and I didn’t know if you went to my school. I just wanted to protect myself.” A million things were running through my head, trying to understand everything that was happening at that moment. I pressed the palm of my hand to my eyes, attempting to have everything make sense. Ryan smiled slightly, chuckled, and pulled my hand away.

“Stop,” he said calmly. I stepped back, pulling away from his touch. I saw how much it hurt him. “If you overthink things, you’ll give yourself a headache.” I sighed. Damn, that’s right. I’ve been talking to him for the past four months – he probably knows me better than anyone else, even Alyssa. “Where do you want to start?” he asked quietly.

I scratched my head. Unable to look at him, I asked, “Why me?”

I heard him sigh. “You’re genuine. And, and special. You’re real, unlike a lot of the people at school.” He touched my shoulder in an attempt to have me look at him, but I just couldn’t. His hand remained. “I may seem outgoing at school, but I’m actually a, really shy person.”

I finally looked at him, brushing away his hand. “Then why be popular?” Suddenly the word made no sense.

“Well, semi-popular,” he gently corrected. He then went on and explained the weird social structure of high school for about a minute before shrugging and saying, “I’d rather be invisible than stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Invisible…? That…” I scratched my head. “That’s not what ‘popular’ means,” I told him, my hands rolling into fists.

Ryan glanced up, trying to find the words to explain it. “Well, I know a lot of people. Because of it, I kind of, blend in. It, makes me invisible. It’s an easier load to carry.”

I felt angry in that moment, and Ryan knew it. Here I was, being picked on, while he was the same and completely invisible to those bullies. “It’s more difficult not to blend in, Ryan,” I said, snottily.

A quiet chuckle escaped his lips. It might’ve also been a sigh. Ryan smiled and said, “I know. That’s why I envy you. You’re, much stronger than I could ever be, Adrian.”

I immediately felt sorry for him, and went over for a hug. He saw it, and opened his arms to welcome me. I stopped myself because I knew I didn’t like him that way, and it would be a little awkward. He still approached, but I pushed my hands into his chest. Ryan frowned. “No biggy,” he said. “I’ll wait for that hug.”

It’s just a hug, why is this so hard for you? I felt like I was being unfair to him. I wanted to do something for him. “Wait. Give me your Post-Its. And, and the Sharpie.”

He obliged, and I began writing something I had seen online a while back. When I finished, I handed him the Sharpie, and the pad, which now read:

Sometimes the strongest people are the ones who love beyond all faults, cry behind closed doors, and fight battles that nobody knows about.

Ryan smiled weakly, and held out his hand. I cautiously took it, and we shook. “I’m still going to like you, Adrian.”

I nervously, and forcefully, chuckled. I cleared my throat and said, “I know. Feelings are difficult to change. Trust me, I know.”

He stopped and looked down, still holding my hand. I could see the red spreading across his face. “Is there…any chance, that you could like me back?” he asked, his voice cracking.

I frowned, and finally looked him right in his eyes. I pulled my hand from his. “You shouldn’t ask that.”

His hands curled into fists. His gaze dropped to the ground. “I know, but…is there?”

I shook my head slowly. “I don’t know. I’m not making any promises, all right?” NO. WHY DID YOU SAY THAT? Ryan could think that I might try to like him.

He looked up and smiled. That soft, genuine smile that could melt some girl’s heart. Ryan gently pushed passed and turned back to me. “Want me to walk you home?”

I shook my head. “No, thank you. I, I think we should both go home.”

Ryan nodded, seeing how painfully uncomfortable I was. “Okay.” He began heading back before he added, “I’ll be here tomorrow night if you want to talk.” I looked up and accidentally made eye contact with him. Ryan smiled, waved, and walked away.

I returned home, locking myself in my room and just hoping, praying even, that this was all just some odd dream because my subconscious is fucking weird. Alyssa passed by a few times, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that the guy who’s walked passed our house for two years had a crush on me. I’d rather eat a thousand worms than let her have the benefit of knowing.

Wednesday was disastrous, or, at least I perceived it as disastrous. Ryan acknowledged my presence at school for the first time in human history. When he explained to his friends that he knew me from living a few blocks away, I suddenly became the fascination of the technical theater department’s curiosity. It was almost indescribable how curious everyone was of Ryan’s almost sudden friendship with me.

Ryan tried to talk to me a few times, but I couldn’t bring myself to talk to him. I was just so embarrassed that Ryan was talking to me, in public, in front of our peers, at school, that I bluntly told him not to talk to me. Along with the fact that the technical theater department now had some odd captivation with my “sudden” appearance, I wanted for things to return to normal. Whatever that was.

I ignored him for two days straight, refusing to walk with him. I just needed to calm down enough. Which was almost impossible.

Davis didn’t let me calm down. Being a part of the school theater department, he knew Ryan, so he repeatedly asked questions about my relationship with him. Even when Kendall asked him to stop, constantly, he continued to ask. Mostly, I just curled into myself and waited for a change of subject.

Friday night, before my family left for spring break, I met up with him at the park to actually talk a little, though I asked specifically that we stay away from “that statement” for the time being. Ryan was extremely accommodating. “Why were you pretending to be mute?”

He chuckled. “You know, I’ve just always walked like that. I felt like no one understood me.”

I sniggered to myself. I turned to him and said, “No one would understand you when you’re walking in silence. Ah, teenage angst.”

He sneered at me and shoved me in the shoulder. “You know what I mean.” He sighed and glanced down towards the street again, his expression softening. “I feel, like I put on two faces, you know? One for school and another for home. I felt like the only time I didn’t have to do that, where I didn’t have to put up this wall, was when I walked around at night.” He sniffed, pulled his sleeve jackets down, then continued. “I felt like no one understood me.” He stopped and stepped in front of me, beaming. “But, you’re here. And, and you understand me.”

I frowned slightly, and brought myself to say those words: “You also like me.” I pushed past him and we began walking again. I stopped and added, “No, I-I get what you mean, Ryan. No one understands me either.”

“What about Alyssa?” he asked.

“She’s twelve.”

“Your point?”

I paused, deciding to actually formulate a coherent thought instead of just spewing forth word. “I mean, yeah, she’s there for me, but she doesn’t understand what I’ve gone through. Maybe on some level, she does, but I-I feel like she doesn’t fully…understand.”

Ryan stepped closer to me. “You know, its nice to know that there’s someone out there for me to talk to.”

“Why don’t you go see a therapist or something?”

“I don’t know,” he told me, shrugging his shoulders. “I just…don’t want to.” There was a long pause before Ryan changed the topic. “You’re…probably the only other gay kid in this town.” This was untrue, but we didn’t know it then.

We didn’t speak for a few minutes. “Why do you like me?” I asked.

“Didn’t you already ask that?”

“Yeah, but ‘genuine’ and ‘real’ isn’t enough for me. Why do you even like me? I’m…” I flapped my arms against my sides, gesturing to my body. “…me.”

Ryan nodded and looked at me. “Yeah, you are you.” He shrugged and kept walking, even though I was slowing my pace. “I mean, at first, I j…I liked the company. I just liked listening to you…talk. It didn’t really matter what, it’s just…I like listening to you. You’re really interesting, even if you don’t believe it.”

“No, I’m not.”

Ryan sighed loudly and turned back to me. “You are interesting.” I began to protest, but he continued talking. “Adrian, you’re you. And I happen to like you because of it.” I shied away slowly when he matched my pace. “Any other questions?”

“Why did you let me walk with you? Why did you make me walk with you the first time?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Well, the first time, you seemed pretty upset. I didn’t want to speak, so I…inaudibly…made you walk with me.”

I took a step away, wandering further into the street. “You know, when you say it like that, it sounds creepy.”

“I mean…” Ryan trailed off. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.” He swallowed hard and stepped up onto the curb. “I mean, walking can help with, figuring things out sometimes.” He paused. “I let you walk with me because I just…I don’t know, I had this sense that there was more to you that meets the eye. And, you were the first person to ask permission. It was sweet.” Ryan drifted lazily over to my side again and tried grabbing my hand, but I stepped further away. He sighed.

There was a long pause before I spoke. “So, what kind of a person are you?” I asked.

He stopped and looked at me. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“What kind of person are you?” I asked again.

He looked away, trying to figure out the right answer. “I mean, like, I’m honest. I don’t lie or cheat. I keep my promises. Or at least I try to keep all my promises.”

I frowned again. “Ah, you’re a kind soul. Probably one of the most dangerous people ever.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked, grabbing my arm.

I turned on my heels to look at him. My eyes squinting from the intense, insecure feeling, I said bluntly, “For all I know, you could be putting up another mask to draw me in then do something horrible and destroy me. Right in school for everyone to see.”

Ryan went wide-eyed and shouted, “I wouldn’t do that!”

“How do I know?” I asked.

He began saying something, but nothing came out of his mouth. “I wouldn’t do that,” he whispered.

His eyes. Those green eyes that are specked with brown were a mix of terror and shock, pain and sadness. He was telling the truth. “I’m sorry, Ryan. I-I believe you.”

“Then why did you make the accusation!?” he asked.

“I’m sorry, Ryan. It’s just…”

“You have trust issues. I know. But why?”

“Wait, how do you know? I’ve never said.”

“Adrian, it isn’t really difficult to pick up on. I mean, I’ve been talking to you for, about five months.”

“Well, I’ve been the one doing the talking, mostly.”

“You know what I mean,” he enunciated, leaning forward slightly. “So…why?”

I sighed and asked, “Can we, keep this between you and me?” He quickly nodded, and sat down on the curb. I sat down next to him with a considerable amount of space between us. My hands sat folded in my lap. “Once upon a time, I was friends with Tyler in middle school, and – ”

“You were friends with Tyler? The jock?”

“Mmm-hmm. Yeah. But by that point, Tyler and I were drifting apart. Maybe it was, like, a last resort to reconnect with him, I don’t know. It wasn’t like he just suddenly got popular and then deserted me. We were just…drifting apart.” I shook my head and sighed. “But anyways, in the sixth grade, I told him that I thought I liked another guy in my class.” I began fiddling with my fingers. “And that’s when everything began going downhill. And he supposedly blabbed.” Ryan tore his eyes away from me and glanced to the street. “I was, given a school-wide silent treatment. Everyone I knew ditched me, and I was alone for the rest of middle school and junior high.”

He scooted closer to me and said, “I’m so sorry, Adrian.”

There was a long pause. “No. I-it’s okay now. I have a good circle of friends now.” Not looking at him, I got up and whispered, “Can we not talk about it anymore?”

Ryan stood up. “S-sure.”

“I just, I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

Ryan stepped closer and replied, “No, no. I-it’s okay.” There was another pause, listening to the breeze whistle through the trees. “What do you want to talk about?” he asked cautiously.

“I don’t care. Movies? Books. I-I don’t care.”

There was another uncomfortably long silence where we began walking again. Ryan was either thinking carefully about what he wanted to ask, or he was just being silent. “You don’t believe in a lot, do you?” he finally asked.

I looked to him. “Hm?”

“You told me once that you don’t like hoping for stuff.”

“Hoping and believing are two different things, though.” I told him. “I mean, like, I like learning about the past because – ”

“It’s set in stone and doesn’t change, I know.” Ryan sighed. “I meant, like, your future. A job. Hoping for a family someday.”

Oh. “I mean, yeah, I’d like to have a family someday. Work as a…designer or, whatever. Something that appears normal.” My definition of “normal” would fluctuate from that point on.

Ryan made a sound I didn’t understand. “Adrian, its 2010. You’re gay. There’s a handful of states in this country where you can marry any guy you want.” He unintentionally smiled, perhaps amused with the thought of me marrying someone. He suddenly shook his head, chasing away the smile. “Don’t you hope that, like, in four years, you can marry anywhere you want?”

“I mean, I’d like that to happen. But, who knows? We’re not necessarily the greatest country for social progress.”

“Adrian,” Ryan began, “don’t you have any…ridiculous fantasies about, like, getting your dream job? Meeting your soul mate?”

I shook my head honestly. “No,” I told him softly. “I…I think that it – ”

Ryan sighed, clearly frustrated with my response. “Well, I want to fall in love.”

“I do too!”

“How?” he asked, his expression turning from hopeful to almost suspicious. Ryan’s tone was demanding and blunt.

I drew in air slowly through my teeth. I shrugged my shoulders and whispered, “I don’t know.” Ryan then proceeded to tell me about his dream of falling in love – meeting him in his first year of college before falling quickly for him, someone Ryan affectionately dubbed “Edmund”.

I didn’t like it, and I told him, too. It felt too sweet, clean-cut, and too “happily ever after”. If I were to fall in love, which I wanted to do, it would be messy, fully understanding the lack of coherence sometimes in the life of humans.

We continued walking. Five minutes following my statement that seemingly mocked Ryan’s dream of falling in love, a thought suddenly occurred to me. “When did you come out to your parents?”