Nocturne

“It’s different and you know it! Why didn’t you ever say anything?” I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly feeling exposed. “Were you hoping to learn all of my weaknesses, all of my insecurities, and play off of those in order to get me into bed, or something? Fuck, Nathan!” I covered my face with my hands as tears streamed down my cheeks.

 

“Do you honestly believe that about me, Savannah?” His tone turned about as vile as mine. “Why didn’t you ever ask me if I was gay?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know, Nathan, maybe because I have class? Damn it, you were my best friend at camp, I knew that if you wanted to tell me, you would. I figured you weren’t ready. Why didn’t you ever say anything to me if you’ve liked me this whole time.” I placed my hands on my hips and took a cleansing breath, waiting for his response.

 

“I didn’t like you.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking a bit like he might pass out.

 

I opened and closed my mouth a few times, trying to find words to express the sheer confusion I was feeling, as ten years of assumptions just blew up in our faces. “You just said,” I managed, trailing off.

 

“I didn’t like you, Savannah. I don’t like you.” His nose crinkled as he strung out the word like. “I love you.”

 

“You … you what?” My throat started to close around my words.

 

Nathan grabbed my shoulders, took a breath, and bent down so we were nearly nose-to-nose. “I love you, Savannah. I have from the moment I first heard you play at camp that summer, and fell harder when I heard you laugh three minutes after that. I know I was only twelve then, but, still, I knew. I knew that someday … I just knew. Each summer it only got worse. And I got nervous. You were so gorgeous, so carefree, and so fucking nice to me. The nicer you were, the more nervous I got. Then, you told me about how Danny Perkins kissed you behind the tree that summer we were thirteen. The look in your eyes … I knew you thought I was just your friend.”

 

“You were fourteen, Nathan, what stopped you from saying something?” My chin quivered as I replayed even more memories over what I considered ten years of friendship.

 

He sighed. “I figured you’d get the hint eventually. I ignored all the other girls, and only hung around you.”

 

“Yeah,” I nodded, “you were fourteen, and one of two boys in the flute section, surrounded by gorgeous girls. You ignored all of them and you’re pissed that I thought you were gay?”

 

Nathan shook his head, trying to come up with something to say.

 

“What about the last three years, then?” I asked. “You’ve dated … right?” I rose my eyebrow, trying to scan through all of our conversations and all the parties we went to, trying to pinpoint a moment, any moment, where I might have seen him with a girl, or heard him talk about one at least.

 

“Yeah, but …” He clenched his jaw.

 

“You never said anything to me, Nathan. How was I supposed to know? God, when I broke up with Mark last semester, you let me cry on your lap until I fell asleep! You’ve just hung around waiting for me to figure it out? That’s total shit.”

 

“No … I mean … there’s never been anyone worth telling you about. You know how wrapped up I am in my coursework and practicing all the time. I’ve had dates and … whatever. But there was never anyone worth mentioning. And, by now I’ve resigned myself to being your friend. I love you, and I care about you, and … I don’t fucking know anymore.”

 

I shook my head, trying to backtrack to where this conversation derailed. Unfortunately, that was at the beginning. “So why are you telling me this now? Because I thought you were gay? Sorry about that, by the way.”

 

“That, I guess … and it’s been driving me insane watching you fall in love with someone else.” His lips formed a straight line as I watched him swallow hard.

 

I looked around the empty space surrounding us, certain I was standing in the middle of a different conversation than the one I’d started in. “Is this about Mark? We broke up last year. You were there…”

 

“Oh come on, Savannah, I know you’re in love with Fitzgerald, and it’s fucking ridiculous!”

 

My mouth flew open as I tried to determine if he’d actually spoken those words. His face was stone cold serious, though.

 

Nathan continued before I could reply. “You blush every time he looks at you, and you spend more time watching him than the words he writes on the board. You challenge more things he says than you do in any of your other classes, and it’s obvious that’s so you can have more interaction with him.”

 

“Wow,” I spit out, “you’re awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you?” Dropping my arms I continued my trek toward the dorm, not wanting to give Nathan the satisfaction of engaging in the most ridiculous conversation that I’ve ever had.

 

“It’s not just you, you know,” Nathan called after me, stopping me, once again. “He feels something for you, too, Savannah. I can see it.”

 

“You’re delusional,” I said as I walked back toward him, until we were standing toe-to-toe. “Just because I’m not with you, and just because you know my entire sexual history, doesn’t mean you know anything about who I’m in love with. And, I promise you, it’s not Gregory Fitzgerald.”

 

“Whatever,” he scoffed, looking quite self-righteous. “Keep telling yourself that. I tried that for ten years, Savannah. To tell myself I wasn’t in love with someone. Let me tell you, it’s fucking useless torture.” His dark brown eyes lowered to mine, and they looked empty. Furious.

 

“Let's talk about this later.”

 

“Tell you what. Let's not talk about it at all.” Nathan brushed past me, fuming.

 

“Nathan!” I called after him, but he didn’t turn around.

 

For the first time in our friendship, he ignored me.

 

 

 

 

 

Savannah

 

 

I ’m not gay.

 

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