s e v e n

*

I feel better in the morning. I always do, when the sun returns and blanches the darkness of night that seems to be infiltrating my brain recently. There's a moment of disorientation when I forget that I'm in a tent, until last night comes flooding back and I expel it with a groan. Arjun's still asleep next to me, curled up on his side.

Apparently we both drifted towards the middle of the tent in the night, because the nape of his neck is mere inches from my nose. He smells like sleep and the faint remainder of yesterday's aftershave. I roll away before it gets too weird – I'm not sure he'd be amused if he woke up and I was sniffing his neck, though I can't help but notice his smell when he's so close.

My hand falls on my phone and through blurry eyes, I see that it's only six o'clock. Last night, Sam's parting words were that although today's going to be a long driving day – at least six hours in the van – we're in no particular rush. I find the crumpled itinerary he gave us on day one, and when the words stop jumping around the page, they tell me that today we're hitting up Joshua Tree National Park on the way to an Arizona campsite right on the Colorado River.

Flo will be jealous of that. She's a bit of a nature nut, a total sucker for all things Mother Earth, and I know she'd be over the moon to check out the incredible national parks of America. While Dad's jealous of the cities I'm visiting – a few days in L.A. before the trip; a few days in San Francisco afterwards; a couple of days in Las Vegas in the middle – and Mum's envious of the beaches and the small towns, it's the vast expanse of the Grand Canyon and Yosemite that Flo would love.

Maybe when she's older, we could do it together. Maybe one day I'll persuade my parents to do a road trip of the states with us, though that would also involve persuading them to play the lottery while convincing the universe to let us win.

I could get more sleep. I don't need to be up for at least an hour and I'm not sure I slept that well last night, but my phone's still in my hand and when it buzzes, I check the screen. A text from my sister, as though she knew I was thinking about her. Except she isn't suggesting we travel the parks together; she's telling me something I don't want to hear. Something I really don't need to hear.

FLO: heads up: mum and dad know something happened.

FLO: they don't know *what* happened but they just got home from the shop and said they bumped into george and they asked me if you guys fell out and if that's why you've been so sad

FLO: p.s. yes they know you've been sad. It's super obvious. But i didn't say anything bc i know you didn't want me to. Actually that's not true. I said i thought you were sad about leaving school. Dad thought it was funny. Mum looked worried.

Shit. Shit. My pulse suddenly triples its speed and my face instantly feels hot and prickly, about to break out in a cold sweat. My palms are too hot and I suddenly feel claustrophobic. It's a struggle to get out of the tent without disturbing Arjun but I manage it, almost tripping over him as I tug on yesterday's shorts and t-shirt.

It's not that I don't want my parents to know I'm bi. I know that would be no big deal to them. It's not even that I don't want them knowing I secretly dated George for two years, that we slept together in my room, that I loved him and he broke my heart. I just ... this isn't how I wanted them to find out. I don't want to have to relive it all with them when I'm still coming to terms with it myself.

I'd been about to tell them about George and me anyway. I'd been thinking about how to tell them in the most understated way possible, and figured maybe I'd just hold his hand or kiss him when they were around. And then I picked a thread, hoping it was nothing, and I unravelled our entire relationship.

So the announcement went on the back burner because there wasn't anything to announce anymore except, "Hey, parents, I thought it was time for you to know that I'm bisexual and I've been dating George since we were sixteen but now he has betrayed me so I'm single again, and totally crushed, so don't be alarmed if I disappear to America for a few weeks."

That would have been an anticlimax. So I said nothing, choosing instead to wallow in my grief – and clue Flo in when she put two and two together.

And now they probably know that whatever prompted me to flee the country involves George, who until now they thought was still my best friend of seven years. My hands are shaking but I steady myself for long enough to reply to Flo.

ME: what did they say? What did george say?

FLO: idk scoobs, i wasn't there. All i know is that whatever george told them, it made them ask me why you fell out. So they just think you're not friends anymore, but i think there's a high chance you're gonna get a text from one of them soon.

FLO: Dad said you're just "going through a lot of change rn" like school and stuff and that friendships break down. I think maybe mum knows though. She made that hmm noise she makes when she knows dad's wrong but isn't gonna say anything

My gut twists. I don't want to deal with this right now. I want to get another hour of sleep and eat pastries for breakfast and sit with Arjun on the van and see a Joshua tree and paddle in the Colorado River. I don't want my mum to text me about my ex because I'm not going to lie, but I don't want to have to text those words.

My parents aren't stupid. Mum is painfully perceptive. She's a teacher, trained to keep an eye out for things that aren't quite right, and for weeks she has been trying to get me to talk. I wanted to, so badly, but I didn't know what the fuck to say, so I blew her off every time.

When my phone buzzes again, I almost let out a pained groan, but it's not Mum or Dad. It's an unknown number. Except I know exactly who that number belongs to – I deleted it a month ago.

UNKNOWN: you never told your parents about us?

It's the first thing George has said to me in weeks. We spent seven years talking almost every day and after a month of silence, that's all he has to say.

I open the message so he knows I read it, and I don't reply.

UNKNOWN: march. Why didn't you tell them? Are you ashamed or something? Im sorry if ive put my foot in it or anyting but i thought they knew and yet they just came up to me in tesco and asked why they havent seen me around recently and it threw me. They thought i knew you're in america but wtf?? That's the first i heard of it

UNKNOWN: i know you're reading these. Please say something.

Why should I? I don't owe him anything. He owes me years. He owes me the fraction of my heart that he still owns. I can't seem to kick him out and this would be so much easier if I didn't still love him.

UNKNOWN: i didn't tell them anything but they're not stupid and i was on the spot so i was not smooth. Sorry, but i thought they knew.

Sorry but. If there were ever two words that cancel each other out, there they are. That's no apology. That's him trying to absolve his own conscience, to make an excuse. My blood's boiling and my head aches, and I don't want to reply because he doesn't deserve it, but I can't stop my fingers from twitching out a response.

ME: you can't talk about not telling people stuff

He sees the message.

ME: no, i didn't tell them. but if i remember correctly, there's a lot you didn't tell me and it has fuck all to do with you that i didn't tell my parents we were dating after we broke up

ME: and yes, i'm ashamed that i was so blind. You have no idea how embarrassing it was to be so in love and for it all to be a fucking sham

A pause. The message is read, but there's no indication that he's going to reply. Until two words pop up.

UNKNOWN: I'm sorry

UNKNOWN: march im so sorry. i really am. i know i fucked it up. i miss you so much. im sorry

I want to say that I don't care. I want to yell it, to scream that I don't care about his pathetic apology, offensively little and years too late. But I can't, because I do care. I care so much, it's killing me. So I say nothing and I drop my head into my hands, and I jump when my damn phone buzzes again.

DAD: hey scooby! I hope your trip's going well. Bumped into george today and realised he hasn't been around for a while. Everything ok with you two? Did you fall out?

I can't tell if he's clueless or he's trying to be tactful. Either way, it's not a conversation I'm going to engage in right now. If anything, I want to throw my phone as far away as possible and not see another text for the whole trip. That's a bit extreme though, so I just put it on airplane mode and clench my hands into tight fists.

Arjun comes out of the tent, raking a hand through his bedhead hair, and he looks around until his eyes land on me. "Hey," he says, giving me a smile. "Wondered where you'd gone." He nods at my phone, clutched so tightly in my hand that my fingertips are going white. "Everything ok?"

"Not really."

He does a double take, as though that's not what he was expecting me to say, and then he comes over when he recovers. "What's up? Did something happen back home?"

"Not really. Sort of. I'm not sure," I say, and I'm exhausted of holding everything in, so I just ... stop. I let it out, unleashing every thought on this half-awake guy I've known for two whole nights now.

"My best friend and I dated for two years and I was completely in love with him until I found out he'd basically been lying to me the whole time we were together and I was not the only person he was seeing, so I booked this trip to get away from it all but I never told my parents anything and they thought we were still best friends until they saw him today. Now they know something happened and I'm still trying to process what happened and it's just a bit much, to be honest. I lost my best friend and my boyfriend and I have no-one to talk to because only my sister knows what happened and she's twelve."

Arjun stares at me. I'd be staring at myself if I was him. "Shit."

"Yeah."

"Shit. Oh my God. Fuck, I'm so sorry. If I'd known you were going through all that, I never would have made all those jokes about collecting April and May and whatever." His dark eyes are huge and he looks a bit freaked out.

I wave my hand. A dry laugh jumps out, a short and bitter sound. "I don't care about that."

"So you came here to get away from a shitty ex and your parents don't know that you're..."

"Bi," I say, appreciating the gap he leaves for me to fill. "Yes, I did, and no, they don't know. Except now they might."

"And that's a bad thing? Are they not cool about that stuff?"

"No, they're fine. They wouldn't care. They'd probably just be upset they didn't know sooner."

Arjun frowns, purses his lips. "If they wouldn't care, and it's eating you up not telling them, then I say ... just tell them. I mean, I don't want to oversimplify it or anything, but you might feel better if you just told them the truth."

I think about it. Arjun watches me think.

"Are you close to them?"

"Really close," I say. Almost embarrassingly close for an eighteen-year-old guy to be to his parents, I think, though I guess a total lack of a relationship with the woman who gave birth to me balances that out.

"I don't want to fuck things up for you," he says, "but I say go for it. If you're this stressed and upset about it, just bite the bullet." Then he holds up his hands and says, "But only you know them. It's your call."

Maybe I've reached my limit; maybe George's texts were a tipping point; maybe Arjun is just really persuasive. I'm not sure, but next thing I know I've switched off airplane mode and opened up the message from my dad, and I tap out a reply before I can overthink it.

ME: yeah, we fell out big time. turned out he was cheating on me for the two years we were together and that felt pretty shit so i broke up with him a month ago and booked a trip to america. Im sorry i didnt tell you. I didnt know how. I love you

I hit send, and then I drop my phone, and I shake. Tears take over, and I choke on a sob that I try to suppress, painfully aware that we're surrounded by four other tents.

Arjun picks up my phone and switches airplane mode on again, and steps right up and holds me even though he's only wearing boxers and I'm crying and he hardly knows me. My throat aches from the effort of not letting out a sound, until a sob escapes and I try to catch it, to stifle the noise. It's a fruitless effort.

I regret the text already. Fuck, I shouldn't have sent that. But it's gone and my dad's probably reading it right now and he'll be confused and he'll want to talk, and I can't. I can't.

After what feels like forever, Arjun pulls away and looks into my eyes, his hands on my shoulders. His palms are warm, his arms strong. He drops his hands when I dry my eyes.

"I know this isn't a good time," he says, "but when you're feeling better, you have some explaining to do."

My stomach shrivels to a stone, my heart a blade.

"If we're going to be sharing a tent for the next couple of weeks, you owe me an explanation," he says, and I feel sick, "as to why the fuck your phone's font is Comic Sans."

Relief hits so hard and fast I have to laugh, a messy splutter. He had me for a minute there. I appreciate that he's trying to lighten the mood. It helps. I decide not to tell him that the font helps my dyslexia. He'd probably just feel bad. I don't want that. I already feel bad enough for the both of us.

*

 poor march :/ how're you liking the story so far?