Noah
Friday night means family dinner, and I’d rather be anywhere else.
It’s quiet around the table. All of the Dumonts, together in one place, plus Sebastian’s boyfriend, Aidan. My dad is buried in his phone. Work emails, I suppose. My mother’s attention flits from person to person in worry. It’s not like dinners are crazy affairs, but usually at least one person is talking.
Mav, head down, focuses on his meal. With Kellan back, I anticipated my twin doing most of the talking, since that’s what normally happens: can’t get him to shut up about one thing or another. But he’s been too engrossed in making eyes at his boyfriend.
Right. Did I forget to mention? Kellan’s new boyfriend is here too. Harp is his name. Like the beer. At least that’s what he said when he introduced himself to my mom. She didn’t get it. Mrs. Dumont does not drink beer like a commoner.
Kellan’s relationship status is weird enough. Apparently they met while Kellan was galivanting around Mexico, but he wouldn’t elaborate. He’s been strangely tight-lipped about it.
That leaves Sebastian to fill the silence, except he chooses to speak to Aidan under his breath. They keep shooting glances in my direction. If I cared about what they thought of me, I’d ask, but as it turns out, I don’t. These days, my level of caring is basically nonexistent. Even building Miaku has been put on hold for the last month. If I went to therapy, they’d say I was depressed. I probably am.
It’s weird. The world never really held much color for me until Max came into the picture. Now that he’s gone, and rightly so, I’m wishing for that color back. Only problem is, I don’t know how to get there alone. How do I begin navigating the world I’ve been avoiding?
I’ve been thinking of getting out. Out of Indiana, of course, but also just out in general. Meeting people. My summer internship starts next week, and I fly out early tomorrow for Seattle. I don’t want to do the same old thing. I don’t want to sit in my room and block out the world. I want to experience it. I want to be engaged. I’ve realized one cannot live their life alone. The world is too huge, the people too many, the experiences too brilliant.
I’ll never give up my black clothing though, much to my mom’s distress. “You look like one of those druggies,” she hissed last week when I brought over laundry to do at the house.
I stared at her with a bland expression. “I’m not Kellan,” I told her.
“That’s not what I meant.”
I shrugged, shoving my clothes into the wash. The nice thing about wearing all of the same color is I don’t have to worry about separating anything. “Anyway, he wears enough color for both of us, don’t you think?”
At that moment, my twin waltzed past the living room wearing a neon green button-down tucked into softly worn jeans. I think he got another ear piercing in Mexico, but I couldn’t be sure. He’s had his tongue ring for ages. Our mother screamed when she discovered it back in high school.
Our father asks Sebastian to pass the green beans. Our mother’s eyes dart from Sebastian, to Mav, to me, back to Mav. She looks like she wants to say something but decides against it.
It’s Sebastian who asks me, “Have you spoken to Max at all?”
The clinking silverware goes silent. Kellan tilts his head, studying me. Harp looks no different than before, which is to say, intimidating. Aidan chews slowly, then swallows, watching all the while. Mav doesn’t pause in his eating, but I know he’s listening.
For a moment, I consider ignoring him. It’s what I would have done in the past. But something’s changed in recent months. For one, Sebastian has shown me a lot of support since the day everything fell apart with Max. He’s reached out more frequently, texting and even calling on occasion.
“No,” I say, spearing a piece of chicken with my fork. The meal tastes like ash in my mouth.
“Who’s Max again?” Mom asks, trying to hide the interest in her voice, and failing miserably. Mrs. Dumont is a horrible gossip.
“It’s nothing,” I say, at the same time Kellan says, “Captain of the soccer team.”
Another pause. The silent question of why I would ever speak to anyone on the Notre Dame Men’s Soccer Team. Our parents remain unaware of the Kellan-Noah switch. Everyone else knows.
Internally, I sigh. Kellan and his big mouth. “Doesn’t matter,” I say. “I ruined my chances. He won’t talk to me.”
Our mother perks up at that. The number of times I’ve ever spoken of a boy at the dinner table? Zero.
“Have you tried reaching out to him?” Seb asks.
“No. And I don’t plan on it.” Besides, I’m leaving tomorrow anyway. I’ll be gone for the entire summer. Since I graduated a year early, it’s not like I’m staying here. My hope is that following the internship, they’ll offer me a full-time position with the company, but the spots are competitive. I’m willing to work harder than I’ve ever worked to make that dream a reality.
Our mother clears her throat. She’s dying to know what we’re talking about. My father remains glued to his phone. Every once in a while he’ll look up to grab more mashed potatoes. I’ve grown so used to his lack of presence over the years that it doesn’t faze me anymore. I’m half-convinced he doesn’t even realize there are guests present.
Sebastian grips Aidan’s hand. “Noah—”
“What’s the point?” I demand. “I’m leaving tomorrow. Max is graduating, going who knows where. There’s nothing to fight for. What we had was—” Fuck. I can’t get the words out. The last thing I want to do is break down at the dinner table. So I swallow back the lump in my throat, fight the tightness of a noose around my neck, and exhale through my nose.
What we had was amazing. It was, simply put, the best. If I were to ask Max for forgiveness, I’m afraid he wouldn’t give it to me. After everything I did to him, I’d be lucky he’d even speak to me. It’s less painful assuming I don’t have a chance than to have my hopes crushed again. I’m only strong enough to endure that once.
