Leo flinched. “No. Maybe a bit. The thing is…I wanted to talk to you, but I thought you hated me or that I was too late. It had been weeks, and I figured you were probably over it. But then I saw the letter, and I thought maybe I still had a chance.”
I spoke, my voice fragile. “What happened?”
Why did I have to go through all this pain if you were going to return weeks later with a puppy and a date? How do I know it’s real this time?
Leo’s shoulders slumped. “I was scared,” he murmured.
I waited. A long moment passed, and then he said, “The whole idea of a relationship scared me. I liked you so much, Winnie,” — That was the first time he called me that today— “and I felt like I couldn’t control my own emotions. I didn’t want to overindulge.
“And then I told you about my parents. I just blurted it out. It felt like a relief at the moment, but on the way to the party, I kept thinking about how I usually wouldn’t have said anything. How I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Why?” I asked quietly.
“Because…because it…it just makes me feel exposed. I know I played it off like a funny story, but you were right. It isn’t funny. For the longest time, I thought that if I’d never walked in on my dad, my parents wouldn’t have divorced. But they probably would’ve since they were both serial cheaters. They never had the birds and the bees talk with me. They just screamed at each other over the dinner table that the other was a lying whore. And now,” Leo said, with a mirthless laugh, “I’m just telling you even more secrets about me.”
“I’d never tell anyone,” I said. “And I’d never judge you.”
“I know that logically,” Leo said. “But it still feels scary. And it felt even more scary at the party, which is why I avoided you. I know I lost you and that I could’ve tried harder to find you, but I didn’t.”
Before I could reply, the waitress appeared, placing two glasses of soft drink on the table.
“I’m sorry,” Leo said. “I wasn’t planning to ditch you. I was really excited for you to meet my friends, but then when you asked if you were just a friend —”
“Oh, so it’s my fault.”
“No!” His eyes were wide. “I just panicked. I’m not saying all this to make excuses. I just want to explain. Because I am really, really sorry.”
He looked so earnest that I had to glance away. My eyes fell onto the table, and I nodded.
“I was also scared at the thought of telling my friends you were special. I mean, we hadn’t talked about it, but also, if my friends knew I liked guys…that I liked you…I’d feel weird. And I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. I know they’d be nice about it.” A shaky inhale. “But the bigger thing is that…it’s embarrassing. Not you,” he said quickly. “Me. The whole dating-romance-love thing is embarrassing. I don’t know how to describe it. You’ve always been so calm about everything, but this is new to me. All of it,” he repeated. “You were my first kiss. My first…” he ducked his head. “…y’know. Even that night when you helped me with my project, and we shared a bed, that was the first time I’ve ever shared a bed with someone.”
I raised my head. “How is it embarrassing?”
“How is it not? You’ve…” he rubbed the back of his neck. “You’ve seen me naked. You heard me…make noises. And,” he said hurriedly, “it’s not just the sex stuff. I think back to how I’ve acted around you and cringe. The way I’d cling onto you like you were a teddy bear. The way I can’t stop smiling around you, like an idiot. Even in public, I know I look at you in a certain way, and everyone knows. It makes me feel…vulnerable.”
The truth was, I understood. It had been a while, but I still remembered the self-consciousness making the back of my neck prickle when I tried flirting with a boy for the first time at a bar. The day after I’d lost my virginity, and I walked down the street, feeling like the strangers passing by just knew. Even in primary school, the panic when my crush had caught me staring a bit too long.
“And then I told you about my parents, and it’s like everything was a hundred times worse,” Leo continued. “And I realised the more time we spend together, the more chances you’ll see me in ways I don’t want to be seen. Pathetic or grumpy or in a pissed mood because of my mum and dad. And the more chances you’ll have to learn all the unflattering things about me and my life.”
“But you’d also learn all the unflattering things about me,” I said.
“Doesn’t that scare you?”
“I guess the wanting is more powerful than the fear.”
That hung in the air for a long time. Leo stirred his drink with the straw.
“I know what you mean about this stuff being embarrassing and scary,” I said. “But you get used to it. At least, I did, and I assume everyone else does. Otherwise, everyone would be too busy cringing or panicking rather than dating or having sex or getting married.
Leo met my eyes.
“I think,” I said, “love is only humiliating when it ends or when you realise it was one-sided. When you feel like an idiot because it was just an illusion.”
“Is that what it was like for you?” he asked quietly.
I raised a shoulder in a half-shrug. “I did wonder whether I’d been delusional. Whether I just thought I’d been someone special when really, you were like that to everyone.”
“You are special,” Leo said.
