As I gasp in surprise, I can feel her tongue enter my mouth. 

I panic. This is not how things are supposed to go! Her lips are too soft, and her tongue is too slimy, and… and… it’s Abby!

I pull back, staring at her in horror.

I see the same look returned.

“I… I’m sorry, I thought… When you said you love me. I… I should’ve asked!” She squeaks.

I don’t know what to say.

My body’s stuck looking at her. I’m horrified, and I think it shows. I don’t want this. I don’t want to hurt her. I don’t want to push her away, not after everything we’ve been through. Not when she’s the only person I care about.

Abby covers her face with her hands, breathing hard. I want to hug her, but my body still sits there, useless, frozen.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” She breathes from behind the cover of her hands. She’s not looking at me. “That Anna you told me about? Or Jasmine?”

“No.” I manage to say.

“Don’t you like me? Am I not good enough?” She starts crying. I can’t help but wrap her up in my arms.

“I love you, but…” I’m stopped by the look in her eyes as she meets my gaze. Hopeful, hanging on to a last straw.

“Is it the timing?” she squeaks.

I shake my head softly, squashing all hope. “I’m gay, Abs.”

It’s the first time I say that out loud. And I flinch at the words as much as she does.

“But… We were supposed to be together. You said we’d be together forever, that we’d get married. How can you be gay? They called you a faggot at school and you were so angry! Were they right then? Am I the last one to know? Why didn’t you tell me?! Why did you pretend…” Her voice fades as he shoves herself away from me, her arms hugging her knees as she shakes in anger, betrayal.

“I never pretended anything, Abs. When I said we'd get married we were like seven years old! I meant it then too, I thought I’d grow up normal like everyone else, and I wanted that with you. I still do. But I’m attracted to boys. I’ve known for a couple of years and you’re the first one I’ve told. The assholes in my school are just that. Assholes. They don’t know shit.”

“Well apparently I don’t know shit either.” She snaps, turning her back to me as she starts violently sobbing.

I try to wrap my arms around her, but she pushes me off.

I scoot away from her to give her space, and stare at her back. Is this how I lose her? After everything?

“Abby…” I plead.

“Fuck off, faggot.” She spits. I know this is the anger and resentment talking. I know she doesn’t mean it. Abby is the sweetest person and has never been the slightest bit homophobic. But knowing this doesn’t mean the slur stings any less.

I’m used to comments, and normally I wouldn’t care. I hate the fact that people assume things about me worse than the namecalling, always did. Yet hearing this from Abby, right after I finally told her the truth… It hurts like a knife to my chest.

I sit in silence, hoping she’ll find a way to talk to me again. But she doesn’t move.

After a bit the door flies open, and my parents barge in with a police officer. We both get to our feet, as the dread creeps up on me. Neither of them say anything as we’re escorted out.

The police officer sends us off with a “now don’t let me see you here again.” No one says anything back. I hang my head, not daring to face my parents or Abby right now.

“Abby, I’ve spoken to your parents. They will pick you up at the train station in Vlissingen. I will drop you off at the station here, and I expect you to get on that train. I will confirm to your parents which one you’re on.” It’s the first thing my mother says.

Abby nods silently and follows my mother to her bicycle. I look at her, for some sort of goodbye gesture. Some sign that, in time, we’re going to be okay. That it doesn’t have to be broken. But she does not look at me.

“Bye Abs. I’m sorry.” I say, as she gets on the luggage carrier. She doesn’t say anything in return as I watch her and my mother ride off.

As soon as they are out of earshot, my father explodes. He roughly grabs my arm and starts yelling. “What on earth were you thinking, huh? Thought you’d impress your girlfriend by stealing?! How long has this been going on? How long have I been harbouring a criminal in my house?! Don’t you get enough from us? From your work? Do you need to steal as well? What are you spending your money on if you’re shoplifting all of your clothes?!”

“I don’t…” I start, not sure what I’m going to say.

But apparently, dad does. “Oh are you going to say this was the first time? Like you told the policeman? He believed you. But I know you better than that, Ravi. You’re too smart to start off with stealing from a store like that. So either you’ve been doing this for a while and you’ve grown bold, or it was the first time and you lied about Abby not putting you up to this. So did she?”

“No!” I defend her.

“So, you’re a career criminal then?”

“No!” I say again.

“Damn right. If you get caught, you’re clearly bad at this. Now, you’re grounded for at least a month. I will confiscate your birthday gifts. You can have them back after you’ve behaved for a whole month, and served your punishment. You can’t have your birthday cake either. Mom, Jamie and I will eat it while you think over your actions, young man.”

I meekly bow my head, because I honestly thought it’d be worse. Also, I don’t want my dad to see me cry. I grab on to his luggage carrier, and he looks at me like I’m an idiot.

“What? Did you think you deserve a ride after this? No, son. You’re running. Tomorrow you can go collect your bike and apologise for your misdeeds to the manager of that store. But now, you’re jogging home. Better keep up.”

He pushes his treadles to ride off. I sprint after him in an attempt to keep up, but it’s hard. My dad doesn’t give a crap. He pushes on, scolding me if I so much as lag five metres behind. I guess this is the corporal punishment I’m getting.

I get home wheezing. My dad parks his bike in the garage and barges into the house. I follow on his heel, still severely out of breath.

“Man up, sissy.” My dad scolds me. “If you’re man enough to steal to impress a girl, you should be man enough to run two kilometres without wheezing like a dying donkey. Go do more sports.”

“I can’t. I’m grounded.” I say. I know I’m being a wise-ass, but I can’t help it. My world has been destroyed, and this asshole only cares about me being more like my brother.

“Damn right you are. Go to your room!” He thunders in reply.

I run upstairs, slam my bedroom door, and fling myself on my bed.

Hiding my face in the pillow, I surrender myself to uncontrollable sobbing, but no tears come. I scream in pain. But there’s no real pain I can sense. Not one single stab that I can breathe into. Everything is clouded by this heavy load sitting on my chest as I think of Abby in that train right now. How she must feel. Exactly how much I failed her. I don’t deserve to cry.

She’s my best friend, my only real friend, the one I love the most. And I let her down, got her arrested, in jail, in trouble with her parents. And if that wasn’t enough, I had to go and reject her on top of that.

She shouldn’t have kissed me. Why did she think she could?

But I know the answer to that. The hugs, the handholding, the kisses on her cheeks, me telling her I love her. It’s my fucking fault. I led her on. Just because I’m gay, doesn’t mean she’d be impervious to all that. That she’d consider all of these gestures platonic… Fuck I’m stupid.

I hear footsteps approaching, but I don’t move. The door opens, and I hear my mom gather herself. It’s a specific thing in her breathing that happens when she’s preparing to give a correctional speech. I’ve heard it many times before. I can almost karaoke her next sentence.

“Ravi. What on earth possessed you to shoplift?!”

I shrug, knowing full well that that’s only going to piss her off. I don’t have a good answer. The truth: I like that it’s easy and it makes me feel cool, would anger her more than no answer would anyway.

As expected, she roughly turns me around by grabbing my shoulder.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you!” My mom hisses.

I sit on my bed and stare at her. I try defiant, but I realise that’s not really fair to her.

“I’m sorry.” I breathe, then look down at my hands.

“Ravi…” her voice turns pleading again. “Why though? Did Abby ask you to do it? The nice policeman seemed to think so.”

“The nice policeman hit me in the head with a truncheon.” I spit. “And they shouldn’t blame Abby. Abby has never stolen anything before in her life, and she certainly didn’t introduce me to a life of crime, like everyone’s suggesting.”

“I get that you’re trying to protect her, Ravi. I really do. And Abby was always such a sweet girl, never causing trouble at all. But everybody changes during puberty. She’s not the child you were always hanging out with in primary school. She’s got a new life, new friends, maybe a new lifestyle. I think its admirable that you defend her, but do you really know her anymore?”

My mother’s words hurt. Not because she’s in any way right. But because that last sentence cuts through me like a knife. The fact that my tears start up again, will give my mother the impression that I’m going to admit Abby put me up to it, so I choke out. “It wasn’t her idea, I swear. Don’t blame her.”

“You love her, don’t you?”

“Of course, I love her mom, she’s my best friend!” I sob.

“You won’t see her for a while Ravi. Maybe it’s better to focus on your friends from school from now on. And, you know, if you two still like each other in a couple of years, maybe you can rekindle your friendship during your studies.”

“Are you banning me from seeing her?!” I reply, shocked. I never thought that my mother would do such a thing. Did she turn evil?

“No Ravi. Abby’s parents are. Even though Abby is the older one, they’re adamant that this is all your fault. They clearly refuse to see…”

“Fucking Jolanda! She’s always hated my guts, goddamn bitch!”

“Hey!” My mother stops me, sticking a pinting index finger in my face. “Don’t you dare use language like that in this house! And no, I don’t like her either, but I understand their perspective. Clinging to this long-distance friendship isn’t good for either of you. And also, you need to learn from your mistakes. Stealing, whoever incentivised it, is a grave mistake that warrants proper punishment for both of you. Consider your separation part of that punishment.”    

“So you’re letting Jolanda set my punishment now?”

“Ravi, stop it. I just got a call from the police station, do you have any idea how scared I was that something happened to you? Do you know how much you made me panic with that stunt of yours? Do you know how humiliated I feel that my son turned to theft? If, on top of all that, you’re going to talk to me like this, I’m going to film your apology in the store tomorrow and show it to you any time you’re in need of some humility.”

Oh, shit she was pissed. I feared the threat was real. Nothing could possibly be more demeaning than having that on video.

“I’m sorry mom.” I quickly try to placate her. “I shouldn’t have stolen, and I shouldn’t have said that. I think I’m just still a bit in shock about everything. I promise you it won’t happen again.”

“Keep that promise.” She tells me, before she gets up and leaves me in my room.