Ch. 9: Normal People

10.6K 429 132
                                    

Theo and I fell into a comfortable rhythm texting back and forth over the next few days, usually about nothing of consequence. I hadn't quite realized how much I'd missed in a few years' interregnum in our friendship, but this was also what allowed us to maintain an active conversation without saying very much at all.

After a few days of reestablishing the basics of each other's personalities, a lingering question began to trouble my mind: did I actually want to be friends with Theo? My heart swelled whenever I was with him, but it also constricted whenever I remembered that we would probably never be anything more than friends. The pain of rejection, if my feelings were unrequited, might be too much for me to bear, so I couldn't think about it. Nevertheless, I began to feel guilt creeping in, that I reconnected with Theo under the pretension of friendship when what I really desired was a relationship. Finally, I concluded that I would still very much like to be friends with Theo Broussard, romantic reciprocation or not.

This has been the happiest week I've had in months, but it was also the most maddening. A boy was able to drive me absolutely insane trying to decipher some probably-nonexistent hidden meanings behind his every word and gesture. These attempts at divination led me down a particularly sad wikihow rabbit hole, ending up with 'how to tell if your best friend likes you if you're both guys.' My browser history showed Google searches such as "how to tell if someone likes me," "how to tell if someone likes me over text," "how to tell if someone likes me over text gay," and so on led me to several unhelpful threads that all essentially boiled down to 'tell them how you feel.' This was completely unhelpful for somewhere who had sought out these forums specifically so I didn't have to risk that level of vulnerability.

"How to flirt over text," "how to text my crush gay," and other variations were later entries in my search history over the next few days. At one point Monday night, I had absolutely had it and decided to flip a coin, heads I would confess my undying love and tails I wouldn't. The tails result was a frustrating return to the status quo, although there was little chance of me actually following through had the coin come up heads.

I would usually be the last one to text at night and then stay up another half hour on the off-chance Theo would text back. I usually went to bed disappointed, but it was always a thrill to wake up to one of his texts. This had been the case Monday night, but Tuesday morning came and I hadn't yet received a text from Theo, leaving me crestfallen on my commute to school. I had not realized how accustomed I had become so quickly to waking up and automatically seeing his name on my phone.

I tried to tell myself that there was probably some reasonable explanation, but my paranoia took over once third period came and still no text. Double-texting was my first impulse, even if it did show a level of attachment I wasn't yet ready to admit, to anyone else or myself for that matter. I began composing a risky second text in my notes app when I got a notification that my mom had forwarded me an email from the hockey league's commissioner, but without her own input.

I scanned the email, anxious for anything to take my mind off the situation I found myself in, and I initially missed the meaning behind the commissioner's ambiguous wording. "In light of recent social media posts, I believe it necessary to reiterate the league rules and the state athletic association's statement regarding nondiscrimination and inclusivity in high school sports."

The rest of the email was just as vaguely worded and had a pdf copy of the league rules attached, which didn't offer any further clues. I disregarded it as mom mindlessly forwarding anything hockey-related to me, trusting me to handle the logistics of my participation in sports. For fourth period, I had gym, so my phone was left in my bag, which itself was shoved into a locker in the gym's changing room, disconnecting me from the outside world for a long hour.

Only to Feel This Fully [Completed]Where stories live. Discover now