In the Closet (boy x boy)

37. 19 Is the Legal Drinking Age in Ontario

Tuesday, May 2nd

Regret. That's the word that comes to mind when I try to figure out just what it is I'm feeling. My insides churn when I see Tavish at dinner. He's not looking at me as he usually would, he doesn't even notice my presence it seems although I'm obviously there. I recall all the times we stared at each other from across a room as if nothing else existed. I recall the amount of effort he put into getting my attention and calling me pretty and making me feel good. I miss it as he avoids me, ignores me. Crash blabbers at me but I'm not listening. Because it's my fault, I did this earlier today. Tavish laughs at something Aqua says but it doesn't reach his eyes. I share the heftiness of his heart, I caused it for both of us. The meal courses flash by. I merely peck at the fancy elements on my plate. It's hard to be hungry after breaking both your own heart and someone else's.

Without noticing, I rest my eyes on Tavish for the thousandth time. It has grown to be a safe space for me. His messy dark hair, his deep blue eyes, his chiseled jaw, his nice hands. He's familiar, he's comfort. He's everything but right now, he's supposed to be nothing at all. After all, I was the one to tell him I hate him. Which I do. But I can still find him gorgeous, can't I? So maybe it's regret I feel after all. Maybe I would have liked to see where it would have gone, him a form of closure for me, me a form of comfort for him. I don't need to be pretty to provide physical comfort, I don't need to be more than I am. And I like it. I regret not being that anymore, I regret that it's my fault. It was right, what I did, for both of us. But regret still wrings my heart dry as I watch him from afar. Seamus notices because he's Seamus so it's to be expected. He watches me watch his brother and when I meet his eye, he just raises his eyebrows at me. Whatever that means.

The dessert is served and I did not listen to the server's explanation of the dish. So without knowing what it is I'm eating, I eat. I know it's delicious but it feels dull on my tongue. Is this what heartbreak tastes like? I sniffle, try to get a hold of myself. Crash falls silent besides me. I look up from my plate. Seamus has stood up for a speech. He praises everyone's efforts and contribution. His words fade out of my mind. I don't know what to do with myself. I don't know what would make me better other than Tavish. Speaking of the devil, Seamus yanks Tavish to his feet and has him raise his glass. His medal still dangles from his neck. He stands with pride. And he's right to be proud, I should be proud for him too. But I'm too immersed in my feelings. I feel like a fraud, like I have no right to stand here. Seamus motions Petrovish to stand as well, he too still wears his bronze medal.

"Let's clink glasses with our winners!" Seamus says.

Everyone melts into a chatter of triumph, glasses colliding everywhere. I stay there, dull and zoned out. Crash shakes me back into consciousness. He clinks glasses with mine, then moves on to every other member. I follow along because everyone is standing and celebrating and I just want to dissipate into the crowd. My glass meets Petrovish's. He glares at me the whole time and doesn't even grant me a chance to congratulate him. So I give up. I make my way around the table.

"We're glad you're here, Billy," Seamus tells me and I'm glad he's not calling me William anymore. He is a great friend, or at least I think that's what we are. I mutter a thank and now I'm left staring at Tavish.

We both halt. He licks his lips, turns his head away as if he couldn't stand the awkwardness between us. I wouldn't blame him. But I'm still proud for how far he has come. I'm proud he quickly recovered from a state of pain and distress. I'm proud he's trying to become better. I'm proud he spoke with Seamus. I'm proud of him. But it's not welcome anymore because I told him I hated him. And how can you be proud of people you hate anyway? Something isn't adding up.

"You did great, Tavish," I tell him without thinking it through. His eyes snap back in mine, his lips gape. Then the emotion on his face disappears and he swallows his feelings back up. With a stiff smile, he clinks his glass with mine.