Chapter 7

I have one more day to spend with Jesse, and he won't be back to visit for four months. In comparison to the last four years and eight months that we had zero contact with each other, that didn't seem like much of a wait. I just wish that he wasn't currently getting ready to go out to eat with Noa while I had to stay home and practice driving with my dad. Third-wheeling isn't my thing, and I am happy that the two of them got along, but I knew what was in store for today. My father has grown more visibly sad. Even more so than how I remember seeing him last night before we left. He has hardly talked to me today, and we have been sitting in the living room watching his favorite wildlife documentary channel for the past two hours.Between dozing off and sitting up to drink my green tea, which was now completely cold, I would hear my mother talking to her friend angrily on the phone. I didn't even think Mother had any friends, since all she ever did was work and cook. She let my father quit his job, and now he's been watching television shows about tigers all day, every day.

"I don't know, Gayle! But he won't get his shit together, and I have two children who don't fucking drive or even know what they plan to do after high school. I have two options, but I can't leave the kids with their father."

"Atarah, can you get me a beer from the fridge?" My father lazily stretches out on the recliner, sticking out his belly that has grown twice the size as it was two months ago.

"Dad, it's 10:30."

Thankfully, Jesse came moping down the stairs to give me a third option. And, something besides my parents to think about for a moment. "Hey, change of plans, I think," Jesse mumbles.

"Oh, no, honey what's wrong? You're crying!" My mother slams her phone down, rushing to comfort my crying best friend, completely ignoring the new wounds on my body from earlier this morning. I intentionally stuck out my legs where they were in my mother's vision. She doesn't care how badly I'm in distress, but any other person I know is welcome in our house and treated ten times better. I once even got home from school early, and my mom didn't know. I had to call Noa, because she had an extra key to get in the house, but I didn't. Still don't. What's next? Is she going to swaddle Jesse in blankets and make him hot tea and fresh cookies she never made for me, but always for Stefan when he's sick or upset?

"Oh, I'll be fine, Mrs. Bucur. I kind of just wanted to talk to Tarah about this."

Jesse manages to pull away from my mom's death grip. I shot her a dirty look, to tell her that I knew very well what she was talking about on the phone. However, knowing my mom, I should have been more prepared when she pulled me off to the side halfway up the stairs and gave me a slap across the cheek.

We don't disrespect my mother and her rules. Not even my father, because he will get it too. Jesse stared back behind him in horror. I shut him up before he questions everything about my mom's parenting skills out loud to her and receives a punishment as well. I closed the door behind us, slamming it hard enough to express just a bit of anger, but not as much as I felt deep inside me, though if I did ever slam a door, I would be grounded. Mother never took away my phone though, at least. She could never figure out my password, which was a good thing. My phone is where I keep all the information that could get me in trouble. That, and my journal. It's like a diary, but without a lock, and it says "History Notes" on it, so my parents don't go snooping through it, thinking of course, that there's nothing in there. And, by "parents," I mean my mother, because my father has been completely neglecting himself, his family, and his own responsibilities.

Jesse turns to face me, cupping my face gently. "Lucian, are you okay?" His voice and hands were shaking tremendously as he spoke to me. But to me, it was just another Sunday. "I can't believe your mom hits you like that. Does your dad know? Does he encourage it?"

"He tries to tell my mom, when he's drunk. It doesn't turn out well. It's okay, Jess. It barely hurts," I explain calmly, used to this kind of thing happening around the house.

"Honey, you know that it's wrong, right? Nobody should hit their child. Whether or not they deserve it, a mother will love their child regardless and instead talk to them."

"Any loving mother would. My mom wanted a boy, and always liked Stefan better. She got a girl, but I know now that that's not who I am. If I told her this now, she would still hate me. There's no winning here, and I'm okay with it."

"You shouldn't be okay with it! She treats you like shit and acts like Stefan is the king of the house. A parent and a child shouldn't be playing against each other. There's no winning and losing. If there is, that's your sign to run."

"What do you want me to do?!" I shout in a whisper, "do you want me to pack up everything and leave my one best friend I get to see more than once or twice a year, if we actually stay in touch? Move to Arizona with you and live with Gram Gram, who would have a God damn heart attack if she knew who her sweet granddaughter had become?" As I shout, the rant I go on carries and my voice gets louder. Jesse has never seen me like this. Of course I knew that I wasn't deserving of what I've been through, but just about anyone can say that to anyone else. People all over the world are starving. Poverty is still all around us. People suffer hundreds- no, millions of times worse than I do on an average day. As every parent says to their ungrateful child, I could have it worse.

Jesse stays silent, and so do I. We make our way to my bed, sitting down, and just begin crying. Jesse tries his best to draw attention away from him, and on the song that was playing on his phone he must have been listening to while getting ready by dancing. But I saw the tears drip onto his pink cargo pants. He wasn't surprised by my crying. I usually don't, but when I do, there's a good reason. I guess, deep down, I was just frustrated and fed up with life. Once I explode and admit that, it becomes clear to me and it reaches the surface. Jesse hates it when I hide anyways, but I just feel so insecure when I cry. But right now, I am more concerned about him. I wrap an arm around him protectively, like I'm his older brother. It was always like this. I would take care of him and comfort him even though I am younger, and he would be the one looking up to me and cheering for me when nobody else even notices us.

"Jess, what did you want to tell me before?" I approached the situation gently, not wanting to make him feel worse, if that was what he was crying about.

"Noa blew me off. It's not a big deal, compared to everything you're going th-"

"Don't. Don't say that, Jess. You're just as important as I am. And, I'm sorry. You know, Noa does this, and I should have warned you, but I know you aren't a big fan of long distance relationships anyway."

"Yeah, you're right. I thought about that too, but I guess I just had such a good time with her last night. I thought she did too."

"And I know she did. She kept texting me last night about how great you are. The thing is, she doesn't stick with a single guy," I explain. I rub his back soothingly, letting him know that it's okay to cry, because I'm right here. Jesse was always an extremely sensitive and compassionate person. That's why he is such a good friend. I feel terrible when he gets hurt like this, but what hurts even worse is seeing him when he feels as if he can't cry. Because then people will judge him. He won't have the edge people usually see through his pictures and online persona. "You're my Jesse. You can cry as much as you need to. It's normal, and healthy. Let's just make the most of the day. Maybe you can even help me learn how to drive now, if you want to."

Jesse's eyes eventually light up. He wipes his tears with his sleeve, smudging his eye makeup. We both turn to face each other, trying to keep a straight face. He's the first one to crack up and laugh. It made me so happy to see him happy, or at least finding something to smile about that day.

I helped him reapply his makeup. I was pretty good at doing eyeliner, but everything else went south right away, so Jesse had to fix the rest. He is able to get the makeup off of the sleeve of his sweater, surprisingly. His sweater was sky blue with a print of an adorable teddy bear on it. Noa was missing out on an amazing guy, even if it was just one single date before he leaves and most likely comes back having a girlfriend that lives in Arizona.

"I actually do have a crush on this really sweet girl, named Vera. She is homeschooled, but we're neighbors. So I come over to her house, and we compare what we know and take notes from each other to get ahead in our classes. She has fourteen fish, and two of them are pregnant! Did you know that a clownfish guards and watches over their eggs until they're born?"

"Wow. She sounds amazing, Jess. I'm glad you have someone you're close with while we're apart. And, cool fish fact, I guess?"

"Oh, come on," he teases. "Like you don't bombard me with history facts every time we see each other. Like, twenty-five times a day!"

"Come on, my teddy bear. Let's go outside and try our best not to crash my mom's car," I laugh, shutting the door and then following behind him downstairs out to the living room, where both of my parents sat. They were just sitting there. The television was so quiet, and if I couldn't hear it, there was no way they could. They were watching it though. I didn't have time today for their strange, mysterious antics today, or ever. Jesse cleared his throat to get their attention.

"Ahem, I'm going to take Tarah out to give her a driving lesson. I figured we shouldn't use the rented car, so, do you mind if we use one of yours?"

"Sure, honey. Whatever," my mom waves behind her. She didn't even stop to think, which would have alarmed me if I were a parent. Sixteen as of two months ago, and he wanted to teach me everything about driving.

Hesitant to open the door just yet, Jesse opens his mouth to double check. The grip I held on his hand tightened. "Don't question it," I whisper.

Once we were out in the garage, it was clear that Jesse had other plans for us. He reaches into one of his many pockets in his pants. In the back pocket was a twenty dollar bill.

"What's that for?"

"Ice cream," he shrugs, opening my mother's car door for me.

"Wait, I thought-"

Jesse holds up a finger and presses it against my lips. "Don't question it," he replies with a mischievous smirk on his face.

It was only ice cream. It's not like we were going to rob a bank, but it felt nice to disobey my mom without being in complete fear for once. We would discard the evidence, and return at a reasonable time. We were only supposed to take it around the block, but Jesse wanted to take me to the best ice cream shop in town, much more than just a block away.

"So, I'll drive there, you drive back?"

"Sure, I guess," I reply, still sounding a bit doubtful in my abilities to drive. I had learned plenty from my dad, but he wouldn't let me actually drive. My mom was the exact opposite. She just shoved me into the driver's seat of her old van one day and told me to drive. Eight year old me started bawling my eyes out as my mother questioned why I couldn't do anything right at that age. Ever since then, she's acted like it was my father's responsibility to take care of teaching me anything.

"Don't worry," he reassures, a cocky grin appearing on his flawless face. "I'll take over if you can't handle it."

Sometimes I just look at him and wonder why I never considered dating him. I mean, he is straight, and, even before I had come out to him, I was even more awkward around everyone. And, in my own body, it was like I was uncomfortable shifting in a Halloween costume, where the face paint itches my cheeks, and the contacts are about to make my eyes bleed. The shoes are too tight, yet feel like they may fall off. It's hard to believe, and probably is true, that you can't expect people to be attracted to you for your personality if you aren't comfortable with it yourself. Though I never really felt drawn to women, and truly attracted to them, I do find many women I meet to be extremely attractive, but it's not the same thing. But for any guy, it's the same way when it comes to liking what I see. That doesn't mean I like them in that way. It's the personality. And, that's what I love about Jesse. But even if he were into me in that way, it would be too much to ask to have things work out. They never do, between two friends that start off as friends. In most cases. Some would argue that their partner is their best friend, but I feel that though both connections are deep and meaningful, there's a difference between being soulmates with your friend, and soulmates with your lover.

I want to find a soulmate in Sebastian more than anything. On Friday, that morning before I left for school, I wished to come out to more people, and feel comfortable around more than just a few people being Lucian. But, I mainly want that for Sebastian. And myself, but, I want him to know eventually. I would rather he finds out by accident. It will probably have to happen that way, or I'll never have a chance with him. I'm so awkward as it is."I also snagged this. I know you write in it when you're frustrated." Jesse hands me my journal. The familiar green journal that said "History Notes" on it. He grabbed it out of his miniature backpack he carries with him, with money and random things in it. Maybe some minty hard candies. Sounds like him.

"What? How did you know this was my journal?"

"I know you, Lucian. You didn't hear the "I" on this one. Also, I heard you thinking out loud earlier this morning when you thought I was still sleeping."

"Oh, Jess, that's really sweet, I think. And, a bit suspicious that you were pretending to sleep? But, thank you. I really do need to write a bit. Just on the way."

Jesse nods as he pulls out of the driveway. "You ready?"

"Sure. Ready."

***"I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready for him to leave! I wasn't ready for any of this. I wasn't ready to find Gram Gram..." I trail off, my voice breaking.

"My God, you found her? Shit, Tarah. Holy...I can't begin to imagine how you must feel right now. Please, talk to me whenever you need to." Sebastian squeezes my hand reassuringly, but it only makes me shake and cry harder. He runs his fingers through his hair in frustration. Not at me, but at the situation. The day after I found my grandmother's lifeless body in my very bed. I had fallen asleep in the hospital after we got the news that there was nothing else anyone could do. I woke up in the car on the way home, wept and slept all day on the couch. Then I ran straight here.

"I appreciate that. I wasn't very close to her these days.""And now you wish you were?"

"Of course I do. I wish I had taken a week off of school and watched all of her favorite shows with her, and eaten grapes and potato chips, and honey ham sandwiches. Do her hair, like I used to. Play spa with her, make her my famous brownies she never got to try since I perfected them."

"Did your grandmother love cooking? She sounds like a talented, spectacular woman," he says gently.

"More than anything. She used to run her own diner before she retired. And yes, she really was spectacular. I just want to know why."

"Why what?"

"Why was she in my bed," I mumble, fidgeting with my hands in my lap.

"Wait, you mean, she didn't, you know?" But as soon as Sebastian looked up when I did, seeing my eyes now twice as red and itchy and tear-filled, he knew.

I nod. "She never went in there, that I knew of. She knew I was out with Jesse, getting ice cream. She would only peek her head in when she wanted to ask me something. She would only enter if she knocked and I had said she could come in."

"I am so sorry. Is there anything I can do for you? Or do you need to head back home soon? I'm sure your mom wouldn't want you out all night, with her car-"

"Oh, I actually, kind of ran here," I explain, but it comes out like a question.

"What? You didn't. Atarah. You ran almost six miles to see me? Where's Noa?"

"Don't panic. It's not a big deal," I say, wiping the tears from my face for the millionth time. I rest my head on his shoulder. The carpet of the floor in his bedroom was so soft, and I could just fall asleep right now. "I didn't feel like going to Noa's."

"Tarah, go talk to her. I'm always here for you, but I don't want you ignoring anyone else.""You would rather run six miles to see a guy you hardly hang out with in person, than walk a couple blocks to see your best friend since kindergarten?"

"You've been making me happier, and more hopeful these days. Regardless of how often I see you, or how much I truly mean to you, you've helped me in more ways than you would think."

Sebastian lets out a soft sigh, giving into my stubbornness and hugging me around the waist to comfort me. "When you decide to quit talking so ominously, I'll cook for you. Three meals. Plus a snack."

"Nice try bribing me, but knowing you, you'd do anything to hear someone compliment your cooking," I tease.

"True, but, is it really that obvious to everyone that I need constant reassurance? You know, being told I'm great at something makes me feel happy, but, making someone else happy makes me feel especially great. And it's honestly worth traveling around the country on foot if it meant I could see you smile."

"Wow. I didn't know you were so poetic. Thank you? But, -I am a bit hesitant to ask, but don't you think you come off as a bit too flirty with a friend?"

"Perhaps, but, it distracted you, didn't it?" His grin never leaves his face. It only switches from sympathetic to reassuring. Talking about death has never felt so light.

I wasn't sure how to respond to his tactics at first. But I do know that you should never trust your feelings to stay true even the next morning in a situation like this. "I seem to need a lot of distractions lately."

"You aren't happy?"

"I thought I was. Then I took a step back. Looked at a life that had suddenly ended. I could have changed the last moments of my grandma's life, and made them the best, if I had known."

"So, now, everything you've done seems...wasted?"

"You understand perfectly. There's also so much I wish I had told Gram Gram. About me. Even if she had been disappointed, it would make me feel at ease that I wasn't lying to her." I inhale deeply before returning my focus to our conversation, but then he opens his mouth.

"You lied to her?"

"I didn't lie, really. I just wish I had shared more of my life with her. I feel guilty."

"The people you love just as much as they love you will always accept you into their lives, including every last detail. The fact that you questioned her reaction doesn't make you a bad person. It means you took her feelings into deep consideration without fully realizing it, up until her very last breath."

Sebastian was so poetic, and smart. He talked like a book, and spoke in a way that made me feel like everything was right in the world, even though of course, right now, it isn't.

He excuses himself to use the bathroom, but promises to return quickly, and then we could watch a movie. I think, above all else, the thing that stands out the most to me about Sebastian is that he doesn't judge anyone or anything. Ever. Even if he doesn't agree, or understand, he tries until he can explain someone's feelings about said topic better than they can. I just can't get the lump in my stomach to disappear. It is always there when I am with him. As if to say, "do not be honest with yourself around him. He will make one exception for you."

Since I was a toddler, I have loved Disney movies. As most children do. They taught important lessons to me, and kids all over the world. They were all different in their own way, and even more so now that I am older. The classic fairy tales and Disney princesses were the exact opposite of how I truly felt on the inside, but still, my family used to call me their princess. With a crown shining on my head. If only my mother would treat me like royalty.

Even as I got older, I found myself enjoying those movies and stories. They were comforting, when I didn't know what was going on in the present, or if I would be okay. My childhood was a blissful paradise full of smiles, apple juice, and animal crackers. And movies that were there for me.

Seb was taking an awfully long time in the bathroom. I slowly get up off the floor, and look around. I was going to immediately check on him by knocking on the bathroom door, but then I stopped to process where I was. Sebastian's room. This is such a personal space. Someone's happy place in their house that's all their own, unless, of course, they have siblings they share the room with. His sisters shared a room across the hall. Seb's room was not at all what I imagined. It was even better.

It wasn't incredibly huge, but maybe twice the size of mine. He has a massive bed with green and black sheets and a matching comforter set. Green is his favorite color. But everywhere else I looked, I would soon discover another color I perhaps didn't even know of. The walls were dark blue but with one wall that had a bright, beautiful mural that he painted on it. Of his biological father.

Sebastian and his mom moved here right before his little sister, Chloe, was born. They moved from Greece because his biological dad had just passed away. Sebastian would sometimes tell stories of how wonderful of a painter his dad was. He was also a model. He was a strong, and independent man who was very traditional and took care of his family. He taught his son everything he needed to know to be ready for the world. Except for grief. He was such a huge part of Seb's life, and he just didn't know how to process it. Afraid that the place they lived would be too difficult to stay living in, his mom insisted they move here. The restaurant that his dad started is still being taken care of, by his mother's side of the family.

I find myself starting to tear up all over again, so I turn my focus to my phone, which has been ringing for a few seconds now. It took me a moment to realize it, but once I did, I answered it.

"Mom, hi. No, yeah, I'm safe. I'm so sorry-" My mother immediately started bawling as she heard my voice. It really shocked me to hear her so shaken up.

"I know, I know. I was just so scared, and I didn't know what to do. Right now? I'm...at Noa's. Yeah, she said I could stay the night. Is that okay?" Okay, I lied. I didn't tell my mom I had left the house. I would have been in more trouble if I were with a boy. So I used Noa as an excuse, knowing she trusts her family completely.

"My uniform? I'll borrow one of Noa's. We're the same size." It was true. We had the exact same size of uniform, so that would have been an easy fix. If I were actually at her house.

After my mom had hung up, I began texting Noa frantically.

"If my mom asks, I'm at your house! Also, can you grab one of your uniforms and ask Jackson to drop it off at Seb's house?"

She replies almost immediately. I hear footsteps coming up the stairs, and that's when I realize that I hadn't even talked to Sebastian.

"Seb?? Are you staying at his house?? Lucian, what the hell?! Also yes, but what?!"

"Sorry it took so long. I wanted to surprise you with your favorite," Sebastian says as he climbs up the last couple steps leading to the hall. He peeks his head inside as if it wasn't his own bedroom, and sees me furiously typing away. I nearly jump at the sound of his voice.

"Seb, hey. I am so sorry to ask this, but, would it maybe be possible if I stayed the night here? I will sleep on the floor, and Jackson could bring one of Noa's uniforms so I could wear it tomorrow. If not, I-"

"Slow down, Tarah. You're okay. I know the circumstances. I told you that I'll always be there for you. And you're gonna sleep in my bed tonight, enjoy these pizza bagels with me, and watch Disney movies until I see that smile on your face again."

Sebastian had a way of always giving too much. He would do anything for anyone. He once gave a homeless woman over one hundred dollars. I mean, I truly admire him for his generosity and compassion, but I'm not deserving of all of this, no matter the circumstances. I can't even be completely honest with him. but I can't stomach the idea of sleeping in my bedroom right now.

"Are you sure? What about your parents? They're okay with me sharing a room with you?"

"Well, I'll let them know you are staying, and they never really mind as long as we aren't up all night and really loud. I'll just say I'm sleeping on the floor."

A blush takes over my face as I realize what he was implying. That meant that if he was going to lie about sleeping on the floor, he would really be sleeping...in his bed. Where did he insist I sleep? In his bed.

He sets down the plate on his bedside table, turns on his lava lamp, string lights above his television, and mushroom shaped night light. He prepares our movie and turns off the light, creating a soothing presence here. All while he reassures me, noticing I was flustered by his previous remark. "Don't sweat it, I don't kick, or snore, or bite. I'm a bit of a blanket hog, but I'll dig out extra for you just in case."

At that moment, I could have thrown at him tons of dirty jokes and remarks. But though sleeping in the same bed as him was something that would change me forever if it had happened last week, I'm just feeling different now. "Oh, no, I'll be just fine. But, are you sure you don't want the bed to yourself? I wouldn't want to invade your safe space anymore."

"Tarah, the only thing that makes a safe space safe is when there is undeniable good energy and makes me feel truly safe. If it were Stefan, or even Jackson, I would have made up an excuse to get them out of here right away. I want you here. And I want to make you feel better."

He rambles on, and on, as we eat. I listen closely, taking in every last syllable and inhale and exhale. I pay attention to the way his words effortlessly flow out, so naturally. He keeps eye contact, showing me his sincerity the whole time. Once we get settled down to sleep, the first movie is ending. So, he prepares another before hopping back into bed and making sure I am comfortable. Seb reaches over me and turns off the lava lamp and night light.

"You're going to be okay. People will come and go, and, as you grow older, so do your parents, and grandparents. Death, as terrible as it is, can't be prevented. It happens when it happens. I believe that, whoever is...up there, out there? They hold, or, are a force that allows people to subconsciously decide their fate for themselves. I don't believe in a God that makes people die when they see fit." Sebastian talks in a soothing, comforting voice, holding my hand, to show him that I'm not alone.

"You see it as a force, rather than a physical person or presence of higher power?"

"Exactly. And, as ironic as it is, I never cared for learning about Greek gods and goddesses. We are our own people, and nobody can dictate our future or where we go when we die. Sure, I loved reading about gods and goddesses growing up, but I think it all started with a group of people that worshiped a regular person like you or me."

"What's your view on superstition, then? I'm curious." I could listen to him talk all night.

"It's probably the answer most expected coming from someone like me, but we make our own luck. I think it can be fun to believe in these kinds of things, but I don't let it control me."

"I like that you're so...in control. Like you have everything figured out."

"I suppose you could say that. I just tend not to worry about the things ahead of me until I get there."

"Sounds a bit reckless when you put it like that."

Sebastian shrugs his shoulders. "I suppose you could call it that. Or, I'm close minded, but-"

"You're actually making a lot of sense," I gently interrupt. "I'm not sure what I believe in, but we are all entitled to our own opinions and beliefs. I know what it's like to feel like nobody understands me or would even want to try, so I try other people's side of things. And, you actually make it quite easy for me." My eyes wander to the television. I watch the princess on the screen dance and sing, not really paying much attention to the words though. Only my thoughts, and lust let them slip out as they come to me. I don't think, just do.

"I never made it easy on my parents. And, they still don't know the truth about me. They don't want to believe that I'm different, so they block out pretty much everything they do. Act like they don't even want me at all. And, maybe they just don't, but another part of me just thinks they're in denial. In denial that their daughter is their son. That all those horrific things they read in those pamphlets are true. I'm transgender, Sebastian."

I turn my head hesitantly to face him, trying not to think about what I had just said out loud. I can't register the expression on his face. It's more...emotionless than anything. No. A faint smile. But then I realized that his heavy breathing was really the faint sound of him snoring, very lightly. His eyes are shut, and he's already drifted into a peaceful slumber.

Did you subconsciously avoid hearing such a thing? Am I not meant to tell you?