Only to Feel This Fully [Completed]

Ch. 24: Day Bleeds into Nightfall

The next few weeks fell into an agonizing rhythm. I spent all my time either at the bookshop or Theo's. Dad hadn't said a word to me since I came out, even when I tried to draw something out of him. Those attempts always ended in futility and dwindled after a few days. He'd started drinking even more excessively, never becoming violent, but enough for mom to forbid him from sleeping in their bed. His nights were spent passed out on the couch, with SportsCenter muted on the television. Somehow, he managed to get up every morning and go to work as if he hadn't downed half a handle the night before.

One night, he came into my room raving and rambling about how much I'd messed up his life and his plans for my future. I kept my eyes shut, pretending to be asleep, and waited until he finally left. Needless to say, my home was the last place I wanted to be under current circumstances and I hadn't slept a night at home since then, almost always at Theo's, but sometimes at Julia's. Her super-conservative parents didn't let that happen very much and I was usually consigned to an incredibly uncomfortable pull-out couch in their basement.

Our moms had always been close, but this whole situation made them even closer. My mom would frequently bring things she thought I would need over to the Broussards' and seek counsel from Mrs. Broussard about how to deal with a gay son or whatever. In return, Mrs. Broussard managed to inform my mother about our brief relationship last winter, not knowing that she didn't know.

Since my mom found out, I haven't heard the end of her saying how perfect we were together, despite insisting dozens of times that we hadn't quite gotten back together yet. I told the half-truth that we were friends and he was helping me in a difficult situation. Theo had made his red line clear and, despite my reiterations that I was working on it, we were at an impasse, in which we constantly spent time together but weren't dating. Both moms were skeptical of this ongoing ambiguous situation, even if they did not have the full details.

I'd even stopped booking therapy appointments for fear of Susan's judgment about the whole situation. I justified that arguably-terrible decision by reasoning that Theo's absence from my life had been the raison d'etre for my session, so now that he was back in my life, the appointments were no longer necessary. I quickly found out, however, that casual sex with Theo left me feeling even worse, not better.

The sex itself wasn't like those first few attempts. Those had been tender and cautious. Those qualities weren't present in this new season of their relationship. These summer hookups were best described as animalistic, even violent, like we were both taking something out on each other. Theo acted as if he craved it, shunning any attempts at affection. Sentimentality was to be quickly disposed of. Our bodies clung together, adhered by sweat, in those hot summer months, but the act itself felt far more detached and impersonal than those first few times last winter.

While we were devoid of affection in sexual or domestic settings, we couldn't keep our hands off each other in the bookshop, a safe space we had all to ourselves. It allowed us, though mostly me, to let down our guards and exist naturally. Nora acted oblivious to all this, which was either out of generosity or prudence. Dalia had been gone since May when her semester had ended and she'd returned to Ohio. But, when she returned in July, she teased me constantly about this undefined relationship I had with Theo. She could always see right through me, knowing I wanted more and encouraging me to go for it.

As it happened, her encouragement took the form of an invitation to a party she was hosting for her college friends, the ones that'd hung around campus for the summer. This was her way of showing us, though primarily me, that "it gets better," as she'd jokingly explained. I assumed Theo was in on this conspiracy of hers to get me to come out, which gave me hope that he too wanted more.

Dalia's function wouldn't be a frat party or anything else we'd envisioned a college party to be, but more of a lowkey get-together among college upperclassmen. This seemed like a world away from where we were, even if it was only a few miles from our homes. Theo suggested we also bring Julia and Tate and, after clearing it with Julia, we invited them, which would be perfect as Julia could be our driver for the night.

The football team's training camp started on Monday, two days after the party, so there was a feeling of urgency to things long-delayed. I desired to finally come to a resolution about where things stood, wanting a second chance if one could call it that, before football and school consumed my life once more. The pressure of high school being brought back into the equation in full force would not help matters. A lingering fear remained that the outcome would be closure, not renewal, but I'd resolved that I was ready to come out if it meant keeping Theo.

I hadn't quite believed Dalia about the vastness of the difference between high school and college parties, but being at one of the latter made me realize her accuracy. Dalia's apartment wasn't packed with people. The atmosphere was more relaxed. The music was kept at a relatively low volume so that one didn't have to shout to hold a conversation. Our teenaged quartet, which I felt stood out like a sore thumb in this setting, stayed together at first. This must've only increased our visibility as juveniles.

Tate was the first to break up our insulated coterie, joining a conversation about modern art with some guy in a turtleneck. By the time I returned from a bathroom trip, our little set had disintegrated. This left me puttering and alone until Dalia, noticing my remoteness, pulled me into a conversation with her friends about Sally Rooney. I quickly found myself in a heated argument with a guy who claimed her to be overrated. The intensity of this conversation distracted me from my previous desire to locate my once and maybe future boyfriend.

The Rooney skeptic eventually, after about twenty minutes, copped to have been playing devil's advocate, at the behest of Dalia, who'd put him up to it knowing my passionate love of Rooney's oeuvre. The truth came out only after Dalia broke and began laughing at the absurdity of the whole ruse. Harry, I think was her friend's name, looked as if he felt guilty and tried to explain it was all in good fun. I couldn't help but laugh too, after having gotten all worked up, but it still caused embarrassment to have been the subject of mockery by a group of college students.

After Dalia's laughing fit subsided, she noticed my unease and tried to reassure me, with Harry trying his best as well. He said he was surprised I'd even read Normal People, given that he'd only read assigned books in high school. I relaxed a bit after that compliment, even if it was a bit pedantic, and the group turned to a more serious discussion of literature. I was keen to be an active part of this, to prove myself to them.

It only took a few drinks for my desire for Theo to return and I began somewhat-subtly scanning the room for him, while still chatting with Dalia and Harry. I found him talking with the turtleneck guy from earlier. Theo and the guy appeared wrapped up in their own little world, their bodies unnecessarily close to each other's, almost if not touching. The obvious inference was that they were flirting. This filled me with a heretofore unknown rage and the jungle juice I'd consumed made me reckless.

I exited the conversation with Dalia and Harry mid-sentence, without so much as a pleasantry. I made my way over to the two and pulled Theo close to me, crashing my lips into his. The reaction that I'd expected was reciprocation, but none came and instead, I felt Theo's hands pushing against my chest, causing our mouths to detach.

"Charlie, what the hell are you doing?"

"What's it look like? I'm kissing my boyfriend!"

"That's not what we are and you know that," Theo said, his coldness shocking me.

"I'm sorry, we're fuck buddies, right? Is that better for you?" I was sounding accusatory now, even if I had no right to be.

"Please, Char, not here," Theo said as he began gently pushing me into an empty room away from prying eyes. From the interior, I could only guess that it was Dalia's bedroom, the A24 film posters and books on Marxist theory were a dead giveaway. Theo sat us down on her bed, which was necessary in my case because I was starting to get a little wobbly. I knew I'd have to say what I meant to sooner rather than later while I could still make sense.