FADING: A novel

“Are you seeing him again?” she asks even though she already knows the answer.

 

“You’re seeing him again?” Jase questions, scrunching his eyebrows together. “Wait, who’s him? Who are you seeing?”

 

“No. I mean, yes. God, really, it’s no big deal.”

 

“Must be if he’s getting a second date,” Jase says as he takes another drink. “Is that where you were earlier? On your date?”

 

“Uh huh,” I nod.

 

“Where did you guys go? You never told me,” Kimber asks as she folds her legs underneath her.

 

“We went to Prescriptions.”

 

“I love that place,” Kimber says. “Anyway. New subject. What the hell are we doing this week before classes start back up?”

 

“I have some serious studio time I need to put in. I also have to work.”

 

“You always keep yourself so busy,” Jase says. I don’t even try to make excuses because he’s right. I just shake my head and take another sip of my wine.

 

After a while, Jase and Kimber decide to watch some trash TV. I move to the couch and lie down with my head on Jase’s lap while we all watch MTV. As he combs his fingers through my hair, it isn’t long until I doze off.

 

?????

 

I wake up to the feel of my bed dipping down and I smell wine. Jase lies behind me and wraps his muscular arms around my waist. I nestle back into his warm chest.

 

“Did I wake you?” he whispers.

 

“Yeah, but it’s okay,” I mumble quietly. “What time is it?”

 

“Around two. You passed out, so I carried you in here and hung out with Kimber for a while longer.”

 

“Is she asleep?”

 

“Yeah, and snoring like a beast.” We both laugh quietly at his words.

 

I roll over in his arms to face him in the dark, even though we can’t see each other. I lay my head on his chest, and he wraps one arm around my waist and the other cups the back of my head.

 

“So, why did your trip really suck? I know something’s bothering you.”

 

Jase lets out a long sigh before saying, “I told them.”

 

I wrap my arms tighter around him. “What did they say?”

 

“They threw me out.”

 

My heart breaks and a quiet tear escapes my eye and rolls onto his bare chest.

 

“I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you call me?”

 

“I don’t know. I was embarrassed, I guess. I haven’t told anyone what happened. I don’t want the pity.”

 

“You know I don’t pity you, right?”

 

“Yeah,” he whispers and kisses the top of my head.

 

“I’m sad because I love you. When your heart hurts, so does mine. Your pain is my pain.”

 

We lie there together holding each other as my heart breaks to sync up with his already broken one. I love Jase. He’s my best friend. We have a deep connection that runs through us and links us together. He has had a lot of pain in his life. He had a sister that was two years older than him. They were extremely close, but she died in a car crash the night of her senior prom. His parents still refuse to touch her room, like they are expecting her to come home one day.

 

Jase was extremely confused with his sexuality in high school. He said he didn’t want to be gay and figured if he just slept with enough girls, maybe he would start to feel differently. So he slept around. A lot. He told me that growing up, he felt trapped as if he was living a lie—silently suffering on the inside as he held on to his secret. Until he came to college, no one ever knew he was gay. I’m happy he finally told his parents though. He needed to free himself of the secret he had been keeping from them. I hate that they turned their backs on their own son and would just toss him out of their home like he didn’t even matter to them.

 

“You know this is your home, don’t you? Right here with me. Kimber and I are your home. And we don’t give a shit that you like guys.”

 

Jase kisses the top of my head, and I grip my arms tighter around him.

 

“Jase?” I whisper.

 

“Yeah, sweetie?”

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you, too.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

 

––––––––

 

I wake up to the smell of bacon and coffee. “Thank God.” I roll out of bed and make my way to the kitchen where Jase is cooking breakfast. Just another reason why I love him so much: he loves to cook, and I love to eat.

 

“Hey, lovely,” he says to me over his shoulder as I pad into the kitchen.

 

I walk over to the stove where he is scrambling some eggs, and I lift up on my toes to kiss him on the cheek. “Morning,” I say, then stroll over to grab a mug, and I begin to pour myself a cup of coffee. “What time did you wake up?”

 

“Early. I didn’t get much sleep. Couldn’t seem to clear my head.”

 

I lean back against the counter and give him a side stare. It kills me that he’s hurting so much. He peeks up at me and catches me staring.

 

“Don’t.”

 

“Don’t what?”

 

He continues to whisk the eggs, “Don’t look at me like that.”

 

“I’m not. I’m sorry,” I say as I walk over to sit at the bar. “So, what are you up to today?”

 

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