Nathaniel Jean's Senior Year

22: Nathaniel Jean's Grip

Mild trigger warning for this chapter and any upcoming ones if you're sensitive to self-harm and/or suicide. There's nothing graphic/super descriptive, but continue with caution <3

I tossed my head back in laughter at the story Kenny had just told me of the way his fiancé had proposed to him. "That's insane!" I laughed, shaking my head in disbelief. "I aspire to be that extra."

      Kenny raised an eyebrow at me. "You planning on proposing?"

      My cheeks heated up. "What? No! That's not what I—I mean eventually, yeah."

     "To Lucas?"

     My face grew even redder. "Well of course," I said shyly, casting my gaze toward the computer's keyboard. "Who else?"

      Kenny chuckled at my embarrassment. "You're such a loser, Nate," he said, shaking his head in amusement.

      Kenny and I had FaceTimed almost every night since I came to Natalie's, whether it be a fifteen minute call or a three hour one. I was still so excited to have him back in my life, and I couldn't quite let go of that. Luckily, though, he shared my excitement.

     Despite the fact that I'd seen his face several times now, I couldn't get over how similar to me he looked. Other than his brown, curly hair; his dark eyes; and his slimmer build; we looked the same. The same nose—though his was pierced on one side with a silver ring—the same lips, even the same eyebrows. Of course, he looked older than I did, but not by much. He was like the brother I'd never had.

     He acted like it, too. He joked and teased and gave advice like older siblings do. He told me what to expect from college—after all, he'd gone go NYU just a year before—and how to handle the few homophobes that one sometimes encountered in New York, and what to do if someone was shamelessly flirting with my boyfriend, among other things. His advice ranged from trivial to perspective-changing, and I soaked up every bit of it.  

      One of the things I loved most about talking to him was the weird ability he seemed to have to instantly raise the mood throughout an untrue room just by smiling, because he absolutely lit up when he did—I'd admired that even as a child. Kenny was always happy, and his happiness was contagious.

     "Woah, chill with the heart-eyes, hun," he teased. "This isn't Alabama."

      "Jesus, Kenny," I laughed. "You're so fucking weird."

      As the days passed, I realized that my friend count was quickly growing, now including Kenny, Natalie, and Renaldo.

      Those two, I should add, were pretty damn awesome. We bonded sort of instantaneously, and they felt more like roommates than people who'd chosen to take a poor kid in. I tried to spend as much time over at friends' houses as possible in order to avoid becoming, as Renaldo had put it, "a massive cockblock", but I still spent the majority of my time laughing at dumb cartoons with them in the living room.

      They came in handy, too. Turns out they were both crazy smart, and they helped me study for my approaching exams, doing a better job at explaining the material to me in a week than my teachers had done all year.

     I was rushing to throw on my uniform, already five minutes late to practice and not wanting to do any more laps than I was sure I'd already have to as penalty, when Natalie walked, unannounced, into the room.