“Marines?”

“Yeah,” Wade shrugs in a way that makes me think he wasn’t given a choice. Though, rarely anyone gets a choice.

“I mean, I know I wanted Air Force but, I don’t know, this could be just as good.”

Terry and I look at each other and frown. We have been discussing what they wanted to discuss last night when Wade told us he was already assigned for next year.

“Well, I guess none of us really get much of a choice. They said I’m assigned Special Forces. I don’t even know what that entails.”

“I think the point is to be unspecified. All I know is that I’m leaving the country.”

“Ten, what?”

“I don’t know. The General said I’m going overseas. He wasn’t specific about what I’d actually be doing.”

We all sit silently for a minute until Terry asks where Noah is.

“Taking a nap or something,” I say.

“Damn, must have worked him hard-“

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve heard they really been cracking down on the CAU for some reason.”

I try not to look relieved. Why would he know about last night anyways? I’m just being paranoid.

“Actually, can one of you do me a favor? I’ve got to talk to The General, but I want Noah to eat something. Can you bring him the food?”

“Yeah, I’ll drop it off.” Terry collects the food I had wrapped up.

“Thanks. Tell him I’ll see him at dinner.”

He nods and leaves, Wade tells me he’s going to the gym, and I brace myself for a dreaded conversation.

Noah

“Hey, Noah, wake up.”

“Hmm, missed you,”

“Okay? I guess I missed you too.”

I freeze, realizing it is not Ten waking me up. I open my eyes, and Terry is above me, a confused expression on his face.

“Oh, Terry, hey.”

“Why are you in Ten’s bed?”

“What?”

“Your bed is literally right over there. Why aren’t you in it?”

Fuck. Fucking shit. “Um, Ten’s is more comfortable.”

I watch him look at my bed, fully made, no signs of anyone having slept there.

“Is this a regular thing?”

“I just wanted to take a nap in a more comfortable bed. It’s bigger, and I could spread out more.”

“Noah…”

“What?”

“Nothing. Just know that Ten isn’t as confident as he seems.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He has this thing about people on his bed. He’s never let anyone sit on it, let alone lay in it, not even me or Wade. He could be too shy to ask you not to.”

For a moment, I think about all the things that had taken place in his bed last night. I blink away the thought, not trying to get flustered or aroused in front of Terry. But honestly, I don’t know what to say to that, so I just say “okay.”

“Anyways, here’s your food. Ten had to meet with The General.” He hands me the play of food.

“Is he okay?”

He shrugs. “Why wouldn’t he be?”

I think about what he told me last night, but I don’t say anything.

Terry leaves after that, and I only manage to eat half the food. I’m too anxious about Ten. I mean, I’m sure he’s okay. Probably. But something felt off about him. When we woke up, he didn’t say much. Even when we went on our run, he wasn’t himself. He ran slower. Or, slower than me, which never happens. I wanted to ask him if he was okay, but I had been scared he was going to say he regretted last night. It could still be the reason. Maybe he was going to The General to ask for me to switch rooms. I try to convince myself that that’s a ridiculous conclusion to make, but I’m not successful at it. Why wouldn’t he tell me he was going to speak The General? He could have decided after we last saw each other. That would make sense. I mean, even if he had known he was going to be speaking to The General, he doesn’t have to tell me. He doesn’t actually have to tell me anything. It’s not like I’m his boyfriend. And besides, it’s probably nothing…maybe.

Ten

“You want to stay here?”

“At least for a few more years,” But what I mean to say is at least until Noah can leave.

“Ten, I know the school has become your home, but everyone needs to leave home eventually.”

“I know that. I’m just asking for a few more years. I’m not ready.”

He looks at me with pitiful eyes. Or maybe he’s just tired. “I can’t let you stay even if I thought it was a good idea, which, I must add, I don’t.”

“Please, you don’t understand-“

“Ten, do you hear yourself? You are far too emotional. Contain it.”

My hands turn to fists. “I can’t leave.”

“You’re testing my patience. I’ve had enough of this.”

“You won’t even hear me out?” I try to sustain an even tone, but fuck if I don’t want to burst into tears.

“You’re being ridiculous. Have we not raised you better than this?”

“I am not being ridiculous. I’m trying to tell you that-“

“Ten. That’s enough. Go back to your training. You need to calm down.”

“I realized something these past few weeks. You raised me to be the man you want me to be, not the man that I’m supposed to be, nor want to be. This entire time- my entire life, I’ve had one goal: be better. You taught me that, remember? I had gotten into a fight with some boy who was mocking my skillset. I went to you crying, and you told me the best way to feel better about it was outrank him. So I did. I became the best student you’ve got. But now that I think about it, you may have told me to be better, but you’ve never told me how. I’ve had to do that on my own. And that’s fine. I’m not mad about that. But you can’t just tell me that you know what’s best for me after all this time.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t change it.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“They would have pulled our funding.”

“‘They?’”

“The government. I don’t know how they know about you. But they do, and they’re demanding your service. When I told them it was going to be your choice, they threatened to cut funding. Ten, I couldn’t let that happen. You must understand that if I had a choice, you would have a choice.”

“What do you mean ‘know about you’?” My throat has dried up, and I have this feeling in my stomach that feels like I’m endlessly falling.

“Ten, we cannot do this now. You need to return to your training.”

“You won’t even tell me what you are talking about? I thought…I thought you cared.” I push those last words out. This all feels so wrong and not because I’m being vulnerable, but because I’m being vulnerable to a person who doesn’t really have my best interest at heart. Or at least that’s what it feels like.

“Ten, you know I care.”

“Actually, I don’t know that. This is fucking bullshit.” And just like that, I leave. This conversation isn’t productive. Because I know he won’t actually tell me what he meant by that. He never does. He’s always kept things from me and I blindly trusted that he would tell me what I needed to know. But now he’s keeping things from me that actually matter. I mean, it’s about me— how could he not tell me something about myself? Why would he keep knowledge like that from me?

When I woke up this morning, Noah was pressed against me, his legs curled up like a child. He slept peacefully, his breathing soft and even.

In life, there are these moments that just feel right. I don’t really know how to explain it. But some things just click— the pieces fit— the heart is healed. And I know it sounds cheesy but this was one of those moments.

And it doesn’t make sense but it just is. And then I thought about next year and it scared the hell out of me. I can’t be given such a gift and then lose it without fighting for it. So I would speak to The General. I would make a case for staying longer. I would figure out a way to always be with him.

But I failed. The General won’t even listen to me.

.

.

“Come with me,” I say right as Noah walks into the dining hall. The other boys give questioning looks, but they don’t bother asking their questions.

Noah silently follows me to our room.

“What’s wro-“ But I cut him off with my mouth, my body weight pushing him against the wall—hands framing his face, hands in his hair.

“You make me so damn hard,” I grunt out even though he can definitely feel it. He just moans into my mouth, his knee slightly pushing into my crotch, causing a teasing friction.

“How have I survived all my life without you?” Because I really cannot envision a life without him and it’s only been a few weeks.

But then as I go in for another kiss, he turns his head to the side. I go along with it and kiss his neck but then he pulls away.

When I give him a questioning look he says, “What do you want from me?”

“What do you mean?”

His eyes begin to look wet, a line of tears builds up on his waterline. “This,” he says gesturing between the two of us.

“I think I made it pretty clear what I want,” I say as I try grabbing him again. But he pulls away again.

“Sex?”

“What? How could you say that? Of course not. I want you. All of you.”

“You want to be my…boyfriend?” He asks it slowly, with extra emphasis on the last word.

“More than anything,” I say without hesitation.

“Ten…”

“What?”

“It’s not a good idea.” He looks down, refusing to look at me.

“You don’t want that?”

And when he doesn’t answer right away, I feel like my world is falling apart.

But then he says, “It’s not that I don’t want that. It’s that I don’t want that for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not healthy…in my head.”

“Excuse me?”

“I have depression.”

“Well, I know that.”

“You do?” He’s surprised, but it’s not like he’s tried to hide it.

“Noah, you have a tattoo of a quote from a book about depression.”

“Oh, you actually looked it up?”

“You didn’t think I was gonna?”

“I don’t know what I thought.”

“You think just because you have depression I shouldn’t want to be with you?”

“Ten, I’m broken.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I’m serious. I’m never going to be entirely okay. You don’t want that.”

“Of course I don’t want that. I want you to always be okay.”

“Ten, you know what I mean.”

“No, actually I don’t.”

“I’m mentally ill. That’s not something you want to attach yourself to. It’s not something you want in your life.”

“You think because you have an illness-“

“A mental one. My mind doesn’t work. It’s not just a small defect-- it’s an illness rooted in my mind, you know, the thing that makes you think.”

“I actually happen to love the way you think, depressed or not.”

“Why are you smiling?”

I hadn’t realized that I was, but I am. “Because you think being my boyfriend is a bad idea and I’m excited to prove how wrong you are.”

“I’m not going to be your boyfriend.”

“Oh yes, you absolutely are,” I say as I pull him into me. He tries to free himself from my grip but he isn’t strong enough. I begin kissing his neck and I smile when I see him hold back a moan. He lazily tries to escape again and fails. “I’m not letting you go.”

“You have to…” his voice cuts off as I nip his ear.

“You know why you’re going to be with me?”

“Hmm?”

“Because I’m pretty sure it’s what you want. And you deserve to get what you want.”

“Bold of you to assume.”

“Is it not?”

“I-“

I slip my hand into his pants, grabbing his clothed cock, “Is this not what you want?”

“It’s-“

I slide my tongue up his neck and to his lips, “You don’t want this?”

“Ten-“

He opens his mouth and I take the opportunity to kiss him. He doesn’t even bother to try not to kiss back because I was right; he does want this. “Don’t push me away because you think you know what’s best for me.”

“I’m not pushing you away. I’m telling you that you deserve someone who can keep up with you. I’m not able to keep going and going. I know that doesn’t really make sense...but, it’s just I really think you could do better.”

“Oh yeah? Like who?”

“You won’t be here forever. When you leave, you can find someone. We can do things if you want, but we don’t have to be a couple. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I don’t plan on leaving until you can leave.”

I let him take a step back. “Aren’t you leaving next year?”

“No, or- I don’t know. That’s why I went to The General. I really do not plan on spending my life without you.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because it’s how I feel.”

“You don’t-“ And I think he’s going to say that I don’t know him but we both know that I do. I know him very well. Because knowing someone isn’t always about knowing their history…it’s about knowing who they are deep within. “You’ve never seen me at my worst. It’s…bad.”

“Noah, I don’t think you understand that I really like every part of you.”

“You can’t like an illness.”

“If it’s a part of you, if it’s something that makes you who you are, then yeah I can.”

“That’s not what you’re supposed to say,” he says as he walks towards his bed and sits on it, crossing his legs and bringing them up to his chest.

“Then what am I supposed to say?”

He shrugs.

I follow him to his bed but I don’t sit down. “When you share the hidden parts of yourself with someone who thinks the world of you, do not be surprised when they love the bits of you that you thought were unlovable.”

“You what?”

“I love every part of you, is that so hard to believe?”

“That you love me? Yes, it is.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m me and you’re you and the fact that you love me or think you love me is unfathomable.”

“Well darlin’ start fathoming it because it’s the truth.” I slowly climb on the bed and wrap my arms around his balled up body. I’m sure it looks ridiculous but I don’t care. I just want to hug him.

“Can you…can we do it again?”

“I only have sex with my boyfriend.”

“Fine.”

“Really?”

“Yes, boyfriend. Are you satisfied?”

“Very,” I say as I pull off his shirt. I trace the letters of his tattoo, the weight of their meaning now out in the open.

“You think I’m totally mentally healthy? I may not have an actually mental illness, but I’m not. I’m trying to be, though, and honestly, you’ve been helping me.”

“What? How?”

“Because you feel right. You make sense.”

And this time it’s slower, less about the need and more about the want. He seems more comfortable. He touches me more, tells me things like “right there,” or “faster.” He even takes some control at the end, moving on top of me by himself. And I’m happy I can give him this, make him feel good like this. It makes me feel better about myself, and I wonder if why I hated myself was because I thought there was little purpose to my existence. But now, I don’t know, now I feel more purposeful. If not anything else, to make sure Noah is okay—to be there for him and to love him like he never thought possible. And after, when he cuddles up next to me and says, “you make sense too,” I promise myself I will do whatever I can do give him the life that he deserves.