Chapter 14

The moment I step into the canteen area, Jeremiah slings his arm around my shoulders, patting my back heartily. “Yo, Hendy! How come you and Chester didn’t study yesterday after school?” He asks, squinting his eyes at me. Shrugging, I let Jeremiah drag me over to his table. “Didn’t really feel like it,” I say honestly. Chester glances up at me from his seat, smiling brightly. “Avi! Are we studying this evening?”

“Uh. Sure.” Amelia and I came to the conclusion that I shouldn’t hide myself away and wait for this to pass; I need to help it go away. So I might as well try - isolating myself from one of the few people I actually want to spend time with sounds stupid anyway. 

“Actually I was thinking, since tomorrow is Saturday so we get a lie in…want to do something fun instead?” I ask before I can back out. Chester’s smile smile grows a little. “What did you have in mind?”

“Maybe bowling? Apparently there’s a nice alley not too far from here…” I drift off, hoping that Amelia was indeed right about Chester’s love of bowling. She must have been right - his entire face brightens and Chester practically leaps from his seat to come stand in front of me. “I’d love to go bowling with you, Avi. I can drive us?” He suggests, and I link my hands together, nodding slightly. I’m going out somewhere, doing something nice with a friend. That’s…cool. I haven’t met up with a friend in so long.

“Aw can I come?” Jeremiah whines, but Chester instantly shuts him down. “No. I mean um. You can come next time?” Chester says awkwardly, and a look passes between the two brothers. Jeremiah’s eyebrows practically climb off his head as a massive grin speaks across his face. “Ohhhh I seeeee this is a da-“ Chester claps a hand across Jeremiah’s lips before he can finish his sentence, leaving both Chester and I feeling awkward. 

I know what Jeremiah was going to ask, and no, this isn’t a date. Just two friends hanging out. But I don’t say that out loud, just in case Chester wants it to be a date and I upset him by saying it’s not.

No that’s stupid, I’ve already decided not to have feelings for him so I need to not lead him on either. But is it leading him on if we both kind of want it to be a date? It’s not a date, Chester doesn’t think it is either so I can just get out of my head. This is all just me overthinking things as per usual.

I put mild amount of effort into each of my lessons, giving the simulation of someone who does’t feel numb to the core. Maybe going out with Chester this evening will be good. A nice break from this all, and I don’t know - maybe I’ll feel less numb too. Just thinking about him cheers me up a little.

Jesus, I’m already so far gone.

No but it’s ok, because I don’t have feelings for him. So long as I don’t get feeling then it’s fine.

By the time we get let out from school, I feel so incredibly hopeful about the evening that I barely recognise myself. Chester and I drop Jeremiah at his house and then Chester pops in to make sure with Alison what time he needs to be home for, and then we start the drive to the bowling alley.

“Ok so I have to warn you, I’m a bit of a bowling pro - used to go all the time with my big sister Ames. It was like ‘our thing’ and I kind of ended up hyperfixating on it. And then she went away for university, and then came back and got married, and then I came out to her as trans and I remember she just asked if we could go bowling and she totally wiped the floor with me, and it was so normal and yeah. Just I have a lot of really great memories there,” Chester admits, a fond smile on his lips. 

His lips look soft, contrasted by the cold metal bar through the bottom one.

Stop thinking about his lips, Avi.

“I’m so glad she was supportive, your family seems really great,” I say honestly. Chester is out to basically everyone he knows, and I know both Jeremiah and Alison are so supportive of him. But Chester’s smile falters slightly, and he shakes his head. “Yeah well not all my family. Mom and Dad ended up getting a divorce because of me, and I still feel guilty about it.”

“How could you possibly be responsible for your parents’ divorce?” I ask, glancing over at Chester as he takes us along a quiet road. His grip on the steering wheel increases imperceptibly as a frown appears across his features. “Because they’d always fight about me. It feels like I split them apart, causing this rift in our family.

“Why did they fight about you?” I ask cautiously, watching as Chester chews on his lips. “Because of the whole trans thing. Mom was really great and supportive, but Dad…he thought I was just confused, being awkward, and doing it for attention,” Chester spits the last word and I feel my own expression darken. Chester has probably gotten a lot of attention for being trans, and most of it not very good, I’m not sure. I’ve heard about how he was bullied when he first came out at school.

What a piece of shit father.

“Anyway Mom hated that he’d call me slurs behind my back and stuff, insulting and belittling me in person too…it wasn’t great and Mom hated how he was acting, so she gave him an ultimatum: accept me, or leave and never come back,” Chester continues. “He left. And we didn’t want him back, but sometimes, like for mine and Jeremiah’s seventeenth birthdays, he tries to come visit. Luckily his plane got cancelled in the end but we were pretty worried he’d try and make an appearance anyway.”

What a terrible, shitty man.

“One: he sounds like literal garbage, by the way. And it also sounds like it was your mum’s choice to give him an ultimatum of divorce, right? So that’s hardly your fault - she probably hated seeing someone she once loved act so awfully towards her son - towards his own son. So, Chester,” I say firmly, but as gently and non-threateningly as possible at the same time, “none of that is your fault. If anything, you helped to expose his true colours, and now Alison is probably grateful to be away from a man like that.”

Chester pulls into a car park, slowly manoeuvring the vehicle until we stop in a space. “Thanks, Avi,” he says after a while, putting the handbrake on and turning towards me. “You’re a pretty convincing speaker, y’know?”

Shrugging, I chew on my lips. “I just uh. I know how shitty guilt feels.”

Chester is silent for a moment, and I take off my seatbelt, about to get out of the car when Chester speaks again. “How long have you been feeling guilty for?”

A long time.

“Three years.”

“Jesus, Avi. Go to therapy!”

Snorting, I look back over at him. “Already am, remember? We’ve kind of had a lot to talk about though, so I never fully get the chance to explain why I actually feel guilty.”

“What to tell me then? I’m not a therapist, but I am your friend, so…only if you’re comfortable, of course!” Chester quickly explains, his cheeks dusted with pink. Letting out a long breath, I relax back into the seat of the car.

“My parents died in a plane crash, when I was fifteen. I’ve always - I’ve always felt guilty that I’m alive when they aren’t. I have survivor’s guilt for an accident that I wasn’t even present for.”

It feels really good to get that out in the open. Amelia knows how I feel guilty towards my parents’ deaths, but we were focusing on the whole eating thing and panic attacks first. 

Chester gently places his hand on my arm, giving it a comforting squeeze. “I’m so sorry, Avi. But I’m so glad you weren’t on that plane too. I’m so glad you’re alive.” 

No one has ever told me that before.

Someone is glad that I’m alive.

“Sometimes, I’m glad too. But not- not all the time,” I whisper, letting Chester pull me into a hug. He wraps his arms around my back, holding me tightly as I grip onto his shoulder. “Avi…is this- is this why you wrote that note? The one I found in your old science notes?”

Breathing out slowly, trying to keep any potential panic at bay, I carefully choose my words. “Yeah. Part of it, anyway. I had a few really shit years and kind of just…gave up. But you don’t have to worry about me, I’m not going to do anything like that,” I quickly try and reassure him, but Chester just holds me more tightly. 

“Well if you ever…want to, or think about it as more than just a passing thought, then…I want you to call me, ok? Or at the very least text me. Because I’ve- I’ve been there ok and while I never ended up trying anything, I’m always scared someone I care about will try something. So I would much rather know, so I can try and help, ok?”

I make a promise. One that I intend to keep, no matter what.