"You like guys, don't you?" 

2012

THEY SAY TIME HEALS ALL wounds. What a load of bullshit. It may heal physical wounds, but there will always be a scar.

A year passed, and tomorrow was the anniversary of the accident where my arm broke. I followed the doctor's orders, attended physical therapy, and consumed a healthy diet, mostly protein. And my arm healed faster than it was intended. I needed it to heal because I can't stand going through every day with a cast on my arm. It was both embarrassing and annoying.

My arm healed, but my trauma didn't.

In fact, it's still fresh in my mind that I'd get nightmares about it. Sometimes it shows that I didn't make it. I was hanging upside down, dead, with my throat sliced and bleeding. The blood rolling down into my eyes never fails to jolt me awake in the middle of the night.

It's been a year since I started walking almost everywhere. I'd sometimes take the bus because the ample space and heavy mass seemed more threatening to others, making it superior. It felt safer than a car. Of course, I try to avoid thinking of a truck colliding with it. Though I get anxious that I'll close my eyes and assure myself that I'm safe. Sometimes it fails, and I'm forced to get down at the next stop to catch my breath. Or I'll just walk from there.

It's Friday, and school finishes early today.

I stand by the school's front gate, waiting for Alex, who's walking with his friends, Makayla, Caleb, Duke, and Audrie. They're all in the same class, and it makes me wonder if their friendship is strong or if it's just a yearly thing, and in the next, they go on their own paths. He'd sometimes share stories of their get-together sessions at the mall, the parties they'd throw, and basically just being extroverts. I often feel pathetic knowing I can't share these stories with him because I don't like being around other people.

"Hey!" He skips towards me after waving to his friends. I ignore their judgmental glare by looking away. I know they didn't like me from the beginning, but hey, I didn't care then, and I still don't.

"Hey."

"Shall we?" He's further in front of me, and I join his side as we walk toward home.

Since the accident, this became a routine, one that he made due to my phobia of cars. He lived further from my house, and no matter how many times I told him I'd walk home by myself, he'd still accompany me to my porch. He still wouldn't leave until he saw me entering the house and slamming the door in his face.

He made me feel like a child in need of protection, and that was simply embarrassing.

"How's class?" I ask.

"The same," he responds. "It's always the same. Nothing exciting often happens in a place of education."

"You're not wrong."

"Course I'm not; when have I ever been?" He nudges my shoulders, and I roll my eyes.

We would often walk through the neighborhood behind the school for safety reasons and because it's quieter there. There're no sounds of vehicles rushing by, honking cars, the beating of utensils against frying pans from a restaurant, or the chattering of people during lunch hour. Nothing. Just silence.

"You know, I was re-watching the Twilight series last night because... why not? And I gotta say, watching it with my current eyes made me understand a lot better than the first time I watched them. I used to question why Edward and Jacob hated each other, or why Edward left Bella in the second movie, or why people were afraid of vampires when they literally look like regular people," he was ranting on, and I'm here for it. Whenever it came to matters where he would voice out his opinion, he would give an entire essay. And that's not something a lot of people would do. "Out of everything, I finally realized why Bella would stay with Edward knowing she could be in danger. Even after she was attacked."

"I'd say she's just desperate to fall in love," we arrive at the stoplight, waiting to cross over. His arm gently pushes me backward upon realizing I was stepping beyond the border. "Her life is already gloomy, so falling in love with a vampire and someday being one would make her different. And then she'll finally be satisfied with living. Living forever, that is."

"Maybe, but the second movie convinced me that she wasn't, though," the light changed as the beeping sound assured us it was safe to cross. "She went through a series of depression because he left, and she hadn't once thought about herself, just him. She even traveled to Italy to save him from suicide. That's love, Jon."

"Right, right," we're simply cruising by the sideroad, a twenty-minute path to my neighborhood and a five-minute walk to my house. "You'd be surprised by how desperate people can get when they want something."

"Yeah."

There was silence between us for over fifteen seconds, and anxiety festered within me. I peer over to see his eyes on the ground. He didn't bother stepping over the drain, which he always does, thinking it'll collapse if he put his weight over it.

Was it something I said?

"Hey, you're taking this a little too seriously," I pause before him, and his eyes are still on the ground. "What's up?"

"Nevermind, forget it," he clears his throat and raises his chin. His eyes are dim.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" I remind him. "You always told me that."

He looks away, biting his lower lip, hesitant.

I wait.

"I'm just thinking, that's all, I swear," he said.

"About?"

He sighs as if something heavy is weighing down his shoulders. And it clearly isn't his backpack.

"About love," he says softly.

"Why the sudden interest?"

We start walking again, but slower.

He shrugs. "I don't know, it's always been there," he said. "I'd sometimes watch people being in love, and well, I can't imagine myself ever being in a relationship."

"That's not true," I assure. "You just haven't found the right person yet."

"I doubt it. Love is not something I'm good at. It's not like Maths where a simple formula could solve the question."

"I hate Maths, so I can't relate," I try to cheer him up.

"Even if I were to find someone, I doubt they'll stick around," he stops this time. "Besides, I'm... different, and nobody likes different."

His eyes are trying to tell me something as if his true self is begging to be free. I wanted to console him but even I was speechless.

"Different as in?" I believe I know what he meant by different. I just wanted to hear it in his voice.

He perks up as if the conversation didn't happen. His smile was plastered on his face, which wasn't his genuine smile. I know his true smile, and this has 'pain' written all over it.

"You like guys, don't you?" He was walking ahead, and he stops to my question, unable to face me.

I walk towards him and lightly push his chin up where our eyes meet. I'm surprised to see them glistening in bright red. His chin is quivering on my fingers. And right then, I knew I was right.

"Let's just drop it, Jon," his voice cracks. He pushes my hand and resumes walking.

I always knew Alex liked guys. Sometimes I'd catch him staring at dudes from the swim team practicing their laps. Guys with muscular physiques, veiny arms, broad shoulders, hardcore abs, and especially the daring ones who wore nothing but speedos. Basically, the opposite of him. Hell, he even stares at the boys on the basketball court. There are times when he admires male fictional characters such as Batman, Peter Pan, and especially Jack Frost from Rise of the Guardian. I didn't think much about it but judging by how he describes the character with so much compassion and excitement in his tone, I knew something was different about him. Though, I didn't say anything.

Maybe I'm wrong.

"Do you have a crush on someone?" I catch up to him.

"I said to drop it," he's annoyed.

"That's a yes, then!" I wanted to know before we reached my house. If not, I'll be forced to cut the topic, and lord knows he'll never bring it up again.

I look up to see my neighborhood, and I'm panicking within.

"Come on, who is it?"

"No one."

"Is it Bianca? I know you both had been partners for many assignments," I start brainstorming with his friends. "Or Vera? You both went to the movies often, no? Not as much as us, but still. Or could it be Rosetta from Home Ec? I recall seeing the both of you preparing—"

"Goddammit, Jon, enough!" He bolts around, and I slam into him. His eyes are still bright red, maybe pink, but now the emotions are rolling down his cheeks. "You're wrong about all of them. They're just friends, and that's it. But you were right about one thing; I do like guys. And that's why I'll never be able to love."

So, I was right.

"Al, relax; I'm just trying to get your pain out. It's not good to keep them in. Trust me, I know," I step closer, placing my hand on his shoulder. "Let it out. I swear I won't judge."

He remains silent while I wait patiently.

"Do you like Duke? I crane my neck to adjust to his eyes.

He shook his head.

"Don't tell me it's that Asian guy from English," I said. "Wanshi is his name? I don't remember."

Same gesture.

"Then who?" I didn't know he had more friends. Geez, just how many friends can a person make?

He brought his attention to me; those eyes were drowning in his emotions, and his face was shining as if he's just washed his face. Something sits on my chest, and I look down to see his hand against my heart. My eyes return to his, and I back away, refusing to believe the answer.

"Wait..." I'm trying so hard to speak calmly. "Is it... me?"

The ground pulls his eyes as he nods.

And for once in my life, I didn't want to be in his presence. It's not because I'm pissed or disgusted; it's just overwhelming. And it's all so new to me. I've never thought about love before. I don't know anything about it. Especially when the love is from your best friend.

"How long has this been going on?"

"It started on the day I accompanied you to the nurse's office," he's still avoiding my eyes. Good, because I didn't want to see his either. "I don't know what made me fall for you. Maybe it's how fragile you were? Or the fact you went to the nurse's office even when you didn't want to? I really don't know."

"So, why tell me now?" I wanted to ask him, but then I recalled that I pestered him into revealing who he likes. It's me, and now I really wish there was such a thing as a time machine.

I knew he liked guys, but it never crossed my mind that I could be on his love list.

"Just forget it, Jon," he drags his arm over his face.

At this point, I don't know what to say. My stomach is up my throat, blocking the words from forming, and my inner demons are squawking loudly in my mind that I can't help but shut my ears.

"Jon?" He touches my elbow, and I flinch him off without realizing it. His eyes are in pain. Something I've never seen before, and it's killing me on the inside, but now I'm falling apart just by standing next to him. "Please don't do this. I'm sorry, please, just forget it."

"I gotta go," I start speed walking, and before I know it, I'm running to my house. And I didn't stop because I knew he was following me.

"Jon, please!"

I found myself running up the porch as I pull the keys out from my pocket to unlock the door. I was out of breath and my hands were shaking that the key wouldn't go through the hole. And no one was home to open the door even if I were to ring the bell.

"Jon," I turn around to see him standing by the steps. "Please."

"I n-need a moment to get my head t-together, Al," my breath is shaking as if I'm crying. Maybe I will cry as soon as I get into my room and lock the doors. "Please, just go home. I'll see you next week, okay."

I managed to unlock the door and got in, slamming it before he could respond. I march to my room, throwing the keys aside and releasing my backpack from my shoulders. I walked up to the window and saw Alex in tears with his hands clasped against his chest, mouthing the word 'sorry.' I pull the curtains closed, lean against the wall, and sink to the ground. Overwhelmed and exhausted, I curled up in a ball and cried about how I'd treated him, knowing I was his crush.