Chapter Fourteen
Rip
Hi. Mars gave me your number. I heard you want to apologize. You can come in the store today at noon. Clark.
Parked on the street outside of the comic book shop, I took a minute to stare at the message on my phone. I wished that I still smoked cigarettes, or that there was a bottle of whiskey in the trunk I could gulp from, because facing Clark seemed like the most terrifying thing I could imagine.
It wasn’t that I thought he would yell at me, although he had every right to. But when I ran away from Seattle, I wasn’t just running away from my abusive mother or fleeing the city that gave me such a hard time. I was running from the person I had become, the bully who shoved down and tormented guys like Clark and who was more interested in spreading chaos and getting my ass arrested than in taking care of myself.
Facing Clark didn’t just mean facing the guy I had hurt. That would be hard enough. It also meant facing myself.
I groaned, then shoved myself out the car. Yellow and red leaves were plastered across the sidewalk, and from the gray clouds, it seemed like the whole city was on the edge of another fall rain.
Here goes nothing.
I sauntered into the store and forced myself not to stare at the ground. Immediately, the small group hanging out behind the counter turned to stare at me. Five sets of eyes all trained to my face, but all I could see was Clark.
God, he was handsome. No wonder Mars had such a thing for him. He’d always been a cutie, back when we were young, but he’d really grown into himself. His blonde hair was just long enough to look a little messy, pushed back from his forehead, and his green glasses framed his face perfectly. A light, short beard grew along his soft cheeks, and I found my eyes dancing between the tender skin beneath his square jawline and his plump, pink lips.
My heart stilled, and the world seemed to still with it. Beneath his glasses, I could see the glow of his eyes, staring at me. It was like Clark saw a part of me that had been buried for years, and when he looked, it split me in two.
The part of me that wanted to flee who I had been, and a new part of me that wanted to run toward him. Like I sensed he could give me something no one else could.
“Well look who comes crawling back,” a woman behind the counter said. She had a shaved head and a bright purple dress that looked very 90s, but all I really noticed was the way her arms were folded over her chest and the glare she sent burning in my direction.
“He should crawl,” a guy behind the counter said. “He should come in begging.”
I took in a deep breath through my nose, then let it out slowly. I knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but I hadn’t expected a geeky gauntlet of Clark’s friends to get through first.
“Clark,” I said, addressing him directly. “Thanks for seeing me.”
He was seated at a stool behind the counter, centered among the people I assumed were his coworkers. I wondered if they would normally all be in, or if he had gathered them together for emotional support.
Not that I could blame him. I’d probably need some backup to deal with me, too.
Clark clenched his jaw, then nodded curtly. “You owe Mars a favor,” he said. “If he hadn’t spoken up for you, I never would have considered it.”
I had assumed as much but was glad to hear Clark confirm it. I knew the two of them had a great day at a movie festival over the weekend. I’d spent that afternoon working around the apartment and burying the weird jealous feelings that had started rising to the surface. It was funny, but after years of watching Mars chase guys all over the country, one of the only times I felt honestly protective of our time together was when he started hanging out with Clark.
“I’ll make sure to thank him,” I said. I took another couple of steps toward the counter. “Do you think we could step somewhere quiet?” I asked.
“Hell no,” Clark’s friend said. I recognized his curly hair and the sassy glint in his eyes from the other day. Ezra, I thought it was. “You’re doing this right here.” He grabbed Clark’s elbow, and Clark leaned into him.
“Got it,” I said. “A little publication humiliation. I guess I deserve that.”
The friends all stared at me, waiting for me to continue. For all the intense and intimidating situations I had gotten myself into over the years, this one was somehow tying a serious knot in my stomach.
“Clark,” I said. “I’ve thought about apologizing to you a lot over the years. Maybe I should have tried to track you down, but I was always too embarrassed for myself. I have no excuse for the things I did. All I can say is that I was a very confused and very scared boy back then. I thought I was a man, and I thought I was tough, but really, I was just frightened and weak.” I paused and tightened my hands into fists. A wave of anxiety and anger rose through my body and sparked in my chest. Memories of my childhood flashed in front of my eyes, from my mother throwing a plate at me and screaming I was worthless, to the next day at school, when me and my so-called friends had cornered Clark in the cafeteria to torment him.
“There’s no excuse,” I continued. “But I am sincerely sorry, Clark. And if there is ever anything I can do to make it up to you, please, please let me know.”
The words were insufficient, even though I had practiced them in my mind a million times over the years. When it was clear I wasn’t going to say any more, Clark let out a slow breath, then started to talk.
“You might have been confused and scared,” he said tensely. “But you can’t even begin to imagine how I felt. Do you know that my anxiety attacks got so bad, I couldn’t even go to school anymore?”
The pain that had been building ripped my chest open, like the strain in his voice was a knife, cutting me straight through. “All I knew was that we both dropped out around the same time.”
“You derailed my life,” Clark continued. “You made me ashamed of things I should have never been ashamed of. My grades fell apart, my friendships fell apart, my whole life fell apart. And then I find out from Mars that you’re gay? And not only that, you’re supposedly some out and proud gay role model?” He scoffed, then frowned down at the carpet. “Didn’t you feel like a hypocrite? Like a liar?”
