Page 17 of Don’t Look Back

Something smacked onto my stomach, and I peered under the pillow to see that it was my phone.

“You want me to leave so you can text him back,” she said matter-of-factly.

Instead of replying, I opted for silence. Maybe if I pretended to be asleep, she would leave. God, I hoped she would leave.

I wasn’t so lucky. She yanked the pillow away, forcing me to squeeze my eyes shut against the light.

“I know there’s something bothering you, and it’s not just Grace.”

“And I don’t want to fucking talk about it! Just leave me alone!” I shouted.

Charlie—no stranger to my exhaustion-induced mood swings—simply sat on the bed, waiting for me to sort my emotions out. She stared at me for a few seconds while the throbbing in my head subsided.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I sat up, scrubbing a hand over my face. When I spoke, my voice was little more than a whisper. “You’re right.”

Charlie leaned closer. “I’m sorry; what was that?”

“You’re right, asshole. I like him.” I whacked her with the pillow when I found her closer to me than I cared for. “Stop smirking or I will stab you.”

“Genie, I don’t care.”

I tugged on the blanket until Charlie got the hint and moved. My fever—or maybe my turbulent emotions—had me going from hot to cold in a matter of seconds. “What do you mean you don’t care?”

She removed that old ball cap, pushing her hair out of her face before replacing it. “Well, when we were growing up, I guess some of us thought that you may have been… into guys,” she admitted. “But then you met Grace, and the longer you were with her, the less people talked about it.”

“I am too sober for this conversation.” I moved to get up, but Charlie was off the bed and in front of me so fast that I wondered if she could teleport.

“It’s ten a.m., and you’re not drinking on your meds and with a fever. Back in bed,” she ordered. “You’re not getting out of this.”

Defeated and… way too tired to keep fighting, I collapsed back onto the mattress.

“Fine,” I conceded. “What are you talking about? You knew I was…” Gay was a word I couldn’t bring myself to say in that moment. It didn’t feel like the right term for me.

“I don’t know how to explain it. It was just a feeling.”

Adrenaline faded, giving way to the fear that settled into my bones. My stomach flip-flopped so violently that I thought I was going to be sick. “What if I do like him?” I asked, so quietly that I wasn’t sure she heard me.

“Then either do something about it, or don’t.”

Ha. Like it was that easy.

“It’s… scary. I’ve never felt this before. Not for a man.”

Charlie’s phone chimed. She briefly checked it, rolling her eyes before shoving it back in her pocket.

“I need to get back to the shop,” she said. “But listen, if you didn’t feel this strongly about it, I’d drop it. But the fact that we’re having this conversation means you should at least talk to him. He might be able to help you better than I could. Any decent person would listen to you and help you figure this out.”

I stared at the phone that seemed to be taunting me from the mattress. The thought of talking to Ryan again sent my heart rate soaring through the roof. What questions was I supposed to ask? I didn’t know questioning your sexuality came with having a gay guru to teach you things.

“I’ll think about it,” I said softly.

Charlie left, pausing in the bedroom doorway. “Genie, if you do need someone, call me. Text me. Just reach out to me for God’s sake. I may not know the right thing to say but you’re practically my second little brother and frankly, I like you better. I love you, and I don’t want to see you struggle through this alone.”

I managed a weak grin, and Charlie left me alone. I stared at my phone, wishing Ryan was able to communicate telepathically because I had no fucking idea how to start this conversation. I always thought someone’s sexuality was something they knew from a young age.

Seeing that Ryan wasn’t going to read my mind, I picked up the phone but it buzzed in my hand before I could get his message thread up.

My heart sank. It wasn’t him.