Taylor
“Ugh… what…” I slowly became aware of someone calling my name; I opened my eyes, and saw Zac leaning over me, concern and fear painted all across his features. For a brief moment, I wondered what was wrong. And then I remembered. I scrambled away, as quickly as I could, until my back hit the wall. I drew my knees to my chest, curling up, wishing and praying that this was just a horrible nightmare. Tears began to fall, hot, angry tears that stung my eyes and burned my cheeks.
“Why,” I croaked, rocking back and forth like a child. “Why would you do this?” I wasn’t sure who I was asking. Zac? Myself? God?
“I didn’t… what?” Zac shrieked indignantly, but I barely heard him. I leaned my head on my knees, praying feverishly to just disappear.
“God, I feel so stupid, so…”
“Used?” Zac finished. I looked over at him slowly, scrutinizing his expression. I don’t know what I was searching for, but I nodded in agreement.
“How could you?” Zac’s voice was cold, and I sucked in a breath. The confusion and hurt were painfully clear in my shaking voice.
“How could I? I didn’t…”
“How could you say any of that? Act like that?” Zac’s voice rose, his anger striking me deep. “And then, when I try to talk to you for real, you wouldn’t even fucking listen.” Realization hit me like a slap in the face. I’d talked him, no, pushed him into coming out, and when he tried to come out to me of all people, I blatantly turned him away. My god… how could I? A fress wave of tears broke loose, this time from guilt.
“I should have known,” Zac muttered, but his words thundered in my ears.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” I whispered apologies, again and again, in between sobs.
“It was too good to be true,” Zac finished in a whisper. I froze, my tears ceasing as I lifted my eyes to Zac’s hunched frame.
“Zac,” I started softly.
“What?” he snarled; the growl in his voice shook me, as did the barely-contained tears. Was he really playing the victim in this?
“You don’t think this is just as bad for me?” My tone was angrier than I’d intended, but truthfully, I was angry. He was acting like some tortured soul, as if I was completely unharmed. Nothing could have been further than the truth.
“The one time I let myself have a little bit of happiness, and-” I cut myself off, swallowing back more tears.
“I don’t know. I have no fucking clue what this is like for you.” Zac’s voice was even colder, even more harsh, and I felt my own anger flare up.
“How can you say that? Nothing I said, nothing, was a lie. That was me, being more honest with a complete stranger, than I’ve ever been with my own family.”
“Oh yeah? River Jordan? God, I should’ve seen through that,” Zac muttered, and I rolled my eyes.
“Samuel John?” I spat back sarcastically. Who was he to call me out for using a fake name? At least mine was close to the truth.
“Ok fine, so we both lied.”
“Only about the name,” I sighed, shaking my head. “Everything else…” I bit my lip, looking away. “Everything else was real.”
“Oh god,” Zac hissed, sniffling. “You even knew I lived in Tulsa… Please tell me you didn’t know it was me.” A chill ran through me as Zac’s words sunk in. My head snapped up, my eyes wide and burning.
“Don’t you fucking dare!” He couldn’t possibly be accusing me of… of…
“Are you sure Kate was the one who told you about my… my problem?”
“Zac,” I growled warningly. My fists began to shake, a nauseating pit forming in my stomach. To think he thought I was capable of… that…
“You fucking knew, didn’t you?” Zac’s voice raised in pitch and volume, his face displaying the same level of horor and disgust I was feeling. “Were you just fucking with me?!”
Something in me snapped. I launched myself at Zac, fists flying. He blocked the first blow, throwing one of his own that caught me hard in the jaw. I retaliated, landing a jab to his gut; I grabbed his shirt and rolled, the two of us tumbling across the floor. Both of us shouted an endless string of obscenities as we fought; my vision blurred as tears flowed once again, costing me more than a few hits.
I thought I had the upper hand, but then Zac’s body pitched to the side, his hands pinning my wrists to the floor. I struggled, thrashing and kicking, but my younger brother was stronger than me, a fact I’d almost forgotten. I continued to struggle, but with the sobs stealing my breath and my strength, it was no use.
“God, you are a pathetic bitch,” I heard Zac say above me. His voice shook, and through my blurred vision I could make out his own contorted face, his cheeks as drenched as my own. I turned away, trying to hide more from his words than anything else. It was true. I was pathetic. Weak, useless, a failure, receiving exactly what I deserved.
I was vaguely aware of Zac’s grip loosening, but it didn’t matter. If he wanted to beat me, I didn’t care. It couldn’t be any worse than how I already felt. The one time I thought I could be happy, the one time I thought maybe I would get some sort of reward for all I’d done, all I’d given up, and this was what I got. A twisted, perverted mockery of love. Was I so horrible, that this was what I’d earned?
“You… You didn’t know, did you?”
Zac
I stared down at Taylor. He looked so scared and so vulnerable. This wasn’t the Taylor I was angry with. This was… Jordan. The wonderful, vulnerable boy I had fallen in love with. But he was my brother. Even if he wasn’t as horrible as I thought he was, he still couldn’t be everything I wanted him to be. The whole situation was a mess.
I sighed. “That still doesn’t really make it any better.”
Taylor wiggled beneath me, trying to roll onto his side. I looked down again, at our bodies pressed together. This was not good. My body – or at least a certain part of it – seemed to disagree, though. If there was any possible way for this to get worse… yes, I was definitely getting hard. I jumped back quickly, letting Taylor go. I couldn’t let him see what had happened. I slid back against the wall, putting plenty of distance between us.
He rolled onto his side and curled up, his crying slowing down but not stopping entirely. He muttered, mostly to himself, “Not real… none of it… wasn’t real…”
“It…” I began, then stopped myself. It couldn’t have been real, could it? If that was what he thought, then he must have been right. I sniffled. “Right. Of course not.”
He looked up at me slowly, sitting up further. “I meant you… you, Sam…”
“What?” I asked, his train of thought completely impossible for me to follow. As vulnerable as he looked, I still couldn’t see through him completely.
He stared at me, shaking his head. “Nothing. Doesn’t matter.”
I sighed. “Well, I’m still gay. That was real.”
Taylor looked at me sadly. I didn’t want him to pity me. I just wanted him to know the truth. Maybe some of it had been a lie, or had been real but couldn’t be real now, but my sexuality wasn’t. I was gay; I couldn’t change it.
“I should have listened. I’m so sorry, Zac, I…”
“You couldn’t have changed anything.”
He was still staring at me, his eyes boring into me. I didn’t know what he saw, but whatever it was, it seemed to be preventing him from speaking.
“It doesn’t really matter what you say or do… or what you could or should have…”
“Yeah, but…” He interjected.
I didn’t wait for him to finish. I needed to say this – all of it. “It doesn’t change… what I am.”
He smiled sadly. “Well, you know about me now, too.”
“I guess I do.”
“So… you’re not alone.”
“I guess not…” I hadn’t really thought about that. It was funny, how I had thought for so long that I was suffering alone and that Taylor couldn’t possibly understand what I was going through. I guess he understood more than either of us even realized.
“That picture…” Taylor said, interrupting my thoughts. I looked up to see his head tilted to the side in thought. “The one you sent m- umm, Jordan… I see the resemblance, a bit…”
“Doesn’t look as much like me as that dude looked like you. Right down the fucking scarf,” I replied, laughing. Now that I knew it was him, was looking at Taylor right in front of me, I couldn’t believe that picture hadn’t been the second biggest clue to Jordan’s identity. It did look freakishly like him, although maybe not as – no. I was definitely not thinking about Taylor like that.
Taylor laughed nervously. “Yeah, well… I still say he’s hotter… umm…” He trailed off, blushing.
I shrugged. What could I say to that? I didn’t want to agree with Taylor, but I didn’t want to disagree with him, either. Disagreeing meant admitting that I had suddenly realized my brother was hot. I wasn’t sure I could handle that.
“And…” Taylor said, realization in his eyes. “I gave you your scarves, didn’t I?”
“Yeah…” I replied, thinking back to when me and Jordan had discussed his fashion sense, and how I had admitted to only owning a few scarves. They were the ones Taylor had given me, god knows why, but I wore them, just because they were from him. Taylor laughed lightly and I looked up at him again.
“How fucking dumb are we?” I asked, trying to laugh, but another sob ran through my body just as I tried.
Taylor groaned, still crying a little, but laughter slowly taking him over as well. He was still blushing, his cheeks growing deeper and deeper red. “You, uh…”
“What?”
“You do look better with your hair longer…”
“Oh,” I replied. I don’t know what I had expected him to say, but it definitely wasn’t that. Surely he wasn’t saying I was hot, though. Or was he? His cheeks were awfully red. “God, you do blush all the time.”
I didn’t think it was even possible, but his cheeks grew even darker red. He groaned, but smiled at the same time. He tried to hide his face, but I could still see the smile breaking through. I couldn’t help giggling at how adorable it was. There really was no use to fight acknowledging it. Taylor was adorable, hot, beautiful – there were dozens of adjectives that almost came close to describing him. At that realization, my giggles stopped.
“Tay, umm…”
“Yeah?” He answered quickly, his voice taking on a hopeful tone.
“I had no idea…” I started, thinking back to all our conversations, still trying to reconcile all of it with the person I thought I knew. “I mean, everything you said about your marriage…”
“Oh,” he replied, nodding slowly.
“I didn’t know you were so unhappy…” That was the truth. I really didn’t. Logically, I should have known that Taylor’s marriage wasn’t perfect; how could it be? But I hadn’t realized just how much of himself he had sacrificed for everyone else’s happiness.
He shrugged, and it broke my heart.
“I’m sorry.”
“They’re happy…”
God, he was so selfless. I admired it, but I hated it. I hated knowing how miserable he was inside because of it. “But… you’re not.”
He slowly looked up and met my eyes. “I was…” He bit his lip.
“Yeah… me too…” I looked away from him, feeling myself blush as well. I hoped he had meant he was happy with Sam – no, with me.
“Yeah mean… before? Or, umm…”
“When… umm…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. It was embarrassing to even think about how happy he had made me, happier than I had ever been before in my life. But that was over now, wasn’t it?
“You are cute when you blush…”
Of course, that only made me blush more, and I still wasn’t brave enough to look back at him. How could I, after admitting that? From the corner of my eye, I could see him moving a little closer to me.
“I’m… sorry.”
I wasn’t entirely sure what he was apologizing for, but I thought I could guess. It was the entire, awful situation we had accidentally gotten ourselves into. “It’s not your fault…”
He shrugged. “Half of it is.”
“I guess…” I wasn’t going to argue that point with him. I didn’t really think either of us were to blame. Or if we were, then we both were. Either way, placing blame didn’t seem to make a difference. It didn’t fix anything, especially not all the confusing thoughts I was having.
“I’m sorry about… things with Kate…”
I shrugged, looking down. I didn’t want to talk about her. It wasn’t her fault that I was what I was. Things with her were as good as they could possibly be, given that she had been unfortunate enough to come my way right when I was looking for a girl to make myself straight. And it had worked, sort of. For a while. At least, until that one night when I couldn’t perform. I suddenly remembered Taylor’s stupid advice and had to force myself not to laugh. Under my breath, I said, “Telling me to imagine Cindy Crawford…”
Taylor snorted. I looked up at him, finding it impossible to hold in my giggles. I watched him screw up his face as he tried not to laugh, but ultimately gave in.
“I’m… sorry, really,” he said in between laughs.
“Yeah, yeah…” I replied, still giggling. “Not your fault I’m… well, you know.”
He smirked. “You’re… what?”
“Gay. You knew what I meant.”
“Sorry…” Taylor said, his smile falling. He reached out hesitantly, his hand hanging in the air between us.
Finally, when I thought I might explode from the anticipation, he touched my arm lightly. I looked down at his hand and blinked. It should have felt strange, I thought, for Taylor to touch me like that. It wasn’t that intimate, but at the same time, it was. But it didn’t feel strange.
He rested his hand there, and I could see his hesitation fading away. He began to rub my arm slowly, and it felt wonderful. It was such a simple little thing, but it made me feel this warm, tingly feeling inside. I didn’t want to put a name to it, even though I was pretty sure I knew. I tried to ignore that and just focus on the way it felt, sighing contentedly.
Taylor reached up and brushed a piece of hair from my eyes. “You do have really nice eyes, you know. Not boring at all.”
“I’ve always liked yours better,” I replied, blushing.
He blushed too, looking down but still touching my hair. He began to stroke a few strands lightly. That warm, tingly feeling only intensified. I stared at Taylor, biting my lip as I contemplated what this all meant. Maybe I shouldn’t fight it. Maybe it would be better if I just gave in and admitted how he was making me feel.
He met my eyes, his hand on my hair coming to a stop. He began to pull his hand back and I felt my body cry out for him. There was no denying it. I wanted Taylor to touch me. I didn’t know how to tell him that, though. But I couldn’t let him get away. My voice trembling, I managed to say, “You don’t… have to stop…”