You Are the Shell to My Tortoise | ✓

62

After looking through the telescope to admire the constellation that he'd found for me, we had lapsed into a comfortable silence.

"So," I said, abruptly finding the quietness in the dark clubroom deafening, "what does this mean for us?"

I already knew what I wanted to hear as an answer.

He took a while to reply. "I don't know. What do you want this to mean?"

"Don't turn the question back on me! I asked you because I want to know what you want," I protested.

"I know what I want," he said. "I also know that I don't know what will happen in the future. I don't want to cause trouble for you."

I squinted at him in bewilderment. "Why would you cause trouble for me? Also, what do you want?"

He hesitated for a couple of seconds, and then he tugged at my hand. "Let's sit down. There's something I should tell you first."

Was he going to tell me that actually he didn't want to be together? Was he going to tell me that he just wanted to stay friends even though we liked each other?

I didn't want that, but if that was what he wanted, then I could only accept it.

As we let go of each other's hand and sat down in our respective chairs, my heart squeezed painfully.

"Chelsea, I have to be honest with you," he said.

Dread filled my stomach. Here it comes.

"Okay ... What is it?"

"Like I told you earlier, I trusted that friend who attacked me. She was in my grade. I thought she was my age. But on the evening that she attacked me, she said a bunch of things that didn't make sense to me at that time."

He looked down at his hands.

"Among them, one of the things she said was, 'Now we can really be friends forever.' And then she implied that she'd been young for a while. I don't even know if she really is my age, but I doubt it. I don't think I can trust anything she's ever said to me."

"I'm so sorry," I said softly. "That must have been really scary."

Why was this 'friend' of his so creepy? I was getting the chills just hearing about her.

He shrugged. "Anyway, here's the problem—I don't know if I'll age. I don't know if my appearance will change. Right now, I'm still a teenager, so it isn't that obvious yet. I'll only know for sure later on. Knowing this, do you still want to be with me?"

This was a point that I hadn't thought of. Now that he'd mentioned it, a small seed of worry for what the future would hold was planted in my heart.

Was he always going to look like this, even as we grew older and into our mid-thirties? Our late sixties?

What was I going to say to people when Nolan stayed the same over the years?

Wait, why was I thinking that far into our relationship?! We weren't even together yet!

"I'll understand if you don't," he continued, his gaze still averted from my face. "It took me a year to finally accept what happened, and I only accepted it because I still have to live with myself. But you don't."

A searing ache ran through my chest. Nolan had gone through so many things alone, so many things that he couldn't tell anyone, despite being the victim. I wanted to hug him. I wanted to make everything okay for him. I wanted to take away the despondence in his voice.

"I really like you." The words hadn't even filtered through my brain before they practically barreled out of my mouth. "I don't—I don't know what we might have to face in the future, or how well everything will work out between us, but I still want to try. If you want."