Monday

Senn had stayed the rest of the weekend at Avan’s place after Avan’s father Malik had called Tessa to tell her he wasn’t coming home. Though Lucas had offered him a bed too, he rather accepted Avan’s offer since he knew his parents better. Their conversation had been hard, mostly because Senn had a hard time explaining to Lucas why exactly he felt guilty for surviving the accident.

Much to his surprise Lucas, and later Avan, had both reacted understanding and with compassion, causing Senn to spill more of the dark thoughts that clouded his mind every day.

All but the fact he was that upset because Elio had kissed him, and instead of pushing him away, Senn had allowed the kiss to drag on for way too long. He wasn’t ready to find out what his friends would think of him if he’d admit he was into guys.

Avan, as a Muslim—even though he was raised by Western standards.

Lucas, as a typical hot jock who was a little too obsessed with girls, and specifically their boobs and asses.

Joyce, his ex, who he still liked; just not enough.

What would their reactions be?

What if it actually was wrong to be gay? What if the accident had been God’s way of punishing him for acting upon those feelings, by taking away nearly every person he loved unconditionally?

It all made him nervous to go back to school on Monday, for the simple reason Elio could expose him to everyone. He could—accidentally—out him to his closest friends if he was planning on talking about what happened in their presence. Elio didn’t know he wasn’t out to anyone. Elio didn’t know more than the fact Joyce was Senn’s ex, and that was that.

Maybe Joyce, or any of their other friends, had told Elio more about the break-up; like the fact Senn gave her no clear explanation as to why he was breaking up. Or had he? But did those memories get lost thanks to the accident?

But if they hadn’t told Elio anything about it, he could think Senn had told them exactly why he broke up, while Senn was pretty sure he hadn’t been ready to come out to them. But he lost a few months worth of memories, and in those lost memories could lay the answer—or the answers—he was desperately looking for.

What if he did come out to his parents? What if he did tell his friends? What if all of them were okay with it, and he simply forgot about it? But he didn’t dare to ask, because if he hadn’t done any of that, he would out himself accidentally. No, it was best if nobody would find out like that, or through Elio.

When Senn took his seat next to Elio in their first class of the day, Elio simply greeted him with a casual ‘hi’ and a smile. No awkwardness, no shame, no acting hurt over the fact Senn had left him behind in a fucking alley. Nothing of that. Which made Senn feel all the more awkward.

“I heard you ran away from home, stayed with Avan all weekend?”

Oh.

So, he was planning on talking about it?

“Because my aunt is suffocating me.” Senn pushed the conversation into a different direction than Elio probably wanted to go in. “Don’t get any ideas in your head.”

“I—” Elio stopped talking again, focusing on checking his homework for a few silent moments, while they waited for the teacher to arrive. But then he spoke again. “I get it. I did the same, you know. Run away from the places that… reminded me of everything. All to not break apart.”

“Yeah, well…” Senn huffed, taking Elio in from the side, wondering if Elio too was deliberately avoiding the kiss as a subject. “How do you keep yourself from breaking?” he asked in a whisper, eyeing other students who entered the classroom. “I think I’m past my breaking point but… how do I stop myself from falling apart?”

“It’s never too late when you’re still alive.”

“I’m not, though,” Senn mumbled, rolling his pencil back and forth over his table. “I live. I’m not alive. I breathe, but that doesn’t mean I do anything.”

“Deep,” was Elio’s simple reply. “What are your biggest fears?”

Senn frowned, staring at Elio in wonder. He took his sweet time to process the odd question, or to come up with an answer to it. He completely—unintentionally—ignored his friends’ greetings, all while staring at Elio with a frown. “I don’t know. What fear do you mean? Anything? I mean, right now? To lose Killian too.”

“Right,” Elio muttered, though it didn’t seem like the answer he expected, and it caused Senn to wonder if he had misunderstood the question. What answer did Elio expect? Was he hinting towards Senn pushing him away on Friday? Was he talking about the fear of coming out? Or accepting his sexuality? What did he mean?

Was he overthinking everything?

Senn noticed Lucas sending him a worried look, so he quickly flashed a forced smile and a thumbs up to let him know he didn’t have to worry; he was there, wasn’t he? He was pushing through.

“I meant phobia’s… not… that kind.” Elio clarified his question, sounding as if he was struggling with their conversation. Something Senn could understand, since it felt forced and kind of awkward. “Like spiders, heights, claustrophobia, trypophobia…” Elio summed up.

“What on Earth is trypophobia?” Senn wondered out loud, letting out a relieved yet nervous laugh, since he was looking way too much into this conversation. Elio was probably just trying to distract him like he always did; and he was afraid Elio might jump up any second and tell the entire class Senn and he kissed and how Senn was into guys.

Which was irrational and stupid to be afraid of. Elio wouldn’t do that, right?

“I’m not a fan of tunnels, but not really claustrophobic. I don’t go near horses because they will try to disform me if I do. And which sane person would go flying voluntarily?” He answered Elio’s question quickly.

“Horses? Really? Haven’t heard that before.” Elio chuckled too, silencing for a few seconds when the teacher entered the classroom, asking for silence. But soon, he whispered; “Trypophobia is an aversion to irregular patterns or clusters of small holes or bumps. Don’t google it. I’m not even trypophobic but it is, in fact, disgusting.”

“You do realize I’m now tempted to google, right?”

“Yeah, figured. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Senn, though it’s a pleasure to find you socializing with people again, I did ask for silence and attention. Same goes for you, Elio.” Mr. Weaver warned them, pointing towards the whiteboard, telling them to pay attention.

Elio nodded, but Senn refrained from any reply at all. While Elio actually seemed to focus on their teacher, he took out his phone and googled on trypophobia despite Elio’s warnings. He was too curious by nature.

“Dude, that’s gross!” Senn hissed at Elio, staring at his phone. “I think I am in fact trypophobic. Add it to my list of phobias.”

Elio seemed to struggle not to respond, trying to hold back on snorting too loud, a laugh turning into a chocking sound, causing him to end in a coughing fit.

“Senn, Elio, last warning.”

“Sorry, sir,” Elio pressed out in between coughing. He elbowed Senn, probably telling him to be quiet. But Senn liked it a little too much to talk to Elio and try to make him laugh again was now his mission.

“Why did you ask about—”

“Senn!” Mr. Weaver called out through class, clapping his hand loudly. “Since you’re paying attention so well, I have no doubt you can tell me what differentiated Jung from Freud.”

“Sure,” Senn replied absentmindedly, still more curious to find out why Elio asked him that question. But since the entire class was no focused on him giving an answer, he gave them one to the best of his ability; “Freud said that 90% of our mind is subconscious and that most of that is driven by sexuality, while Jung made a separation in the subconscious mind, calling it the personal subconsciousness and the collective subconsciousness. Where the personal part holds our memories…” Senn swallowed before he continued. “Our experiences, and we can remember most of that when we... we… want to. The collective subconsciousness is uh, a collection of our ancestors and, uh, well, basically is the foundation of our coping m-mech…”

Senn fell silent, his voice already trembling in the end. He started out strong, impressing everyone including the teacher. But the closer to coping mechanisms he came, the more he felt himself crumble apart. The more he thought about remembering things by will, the more he felt hurt because there was so much he didn’t remember. He couldn’t recall those months and the memories that belonged with it.

With all eyes on him, awaiting him to finish his answer, he felt the pressure grow until it simply became too much, and he snatched his bag off the ground and fled out of the classroom.