Spiraling
I'm staring into the abyss
I'm lookin' at myself again
-- The Weeknd, Gasoline
Outside, the first thing he did was take out his phone and call Emily. The line only rang twice before she picked up. “Hey, pervert.”
“Am I unlovable?”
“What?”
“Everyone wants to fuck me, but no one wants to be with me. Hwan’s dating the perfect man and Laith hates me.”
“Two guys aren’t everyone. You’re obviously not unlovable; you’re just shit at picking them. Also, Laith doesn’t hate you. We’ve been over this.” She clicked her tongue, followed by a sigh. “You’re very similar to him in that aspect, you know. You’re both huge drama queens.”
“He said I’m his boyfriend, but that literally doesn’t mean anything. He’s just seeing how long he can prevent this for.”
“He said you’re his boyfriend?”
“Yeah, but nothing’s going to change. It’s an empty title.”
“He doesn’t do empty titles. Theo, you’re dating the man.”
“If that’s true, then he’s the worst fucking boyfriend ever. I just spent, like, an hour and a half with Hwan—who’s the perfect boyfriend, by the way—and he gave me way more affection than Laith ever has.”
“Do you really think comparing him to the perfect boyfriend is fair? He can barely talk about his own feelings. That scale is weighted.”
He exhaled with frustration. “I’m just gonna give up.” As soon as he said that, his heart broke in half, fear seizing him by the throat. If he and Laith stopped seeing each other, then what would he do with his life? He couldn’t see a future where they weren’t together in some way, even if they just went back to being friends; he needed Laith. His heart skipped a beat, yet he decided not to say any of this; Emily already knew he didn’t mean it. He couldn’t possibly mean it, despite how much he wished he did.
“Oh, shut up. I hate when you turn into a weeping baby. God, it’s so embarrassing. Do we really need to go over this again? I’m gonna start charging you for the hour, dude.”
“No, I’m just being stupid. I’m a fucking idiot. If I give you fifty bucks, will you beat the shit out of me? I deserve it.”
“Theodore, I’ll give you fifty bucks to make you shut the fuck up. Stop being a loser.”
“Can I come over? I need you to say that to my face.”
“Fine, but you’ll have to wait until Ryan’s in the shower. He’s already awake.”
“Okay. I’ll wait in front of your building until you give me the signal.”
“Wait by the front door. That way, you can just charge in and run straight to my room.”
“Alright.”
Even though their plan was foolproof, he still found himself overreacting to it, jumping on his feet, pulse running quick. As soon as Emily sent him the text, he opened the front door. The first thing he heard was the shower across the hallway, water hitting the tiles below. Quietly, he closed the door and tip-toed into the living room. Emily had her head poking out of her bedroom, hand motioning for him to go in. He picked up the pace to meet her. Before even saying anything, she shut the door.
“Stop being a fucking loser!” she whisper-shouted, pointing at him with a hand. Since her bedroom shared a wall with the bathroom and another wall with Ryan’s room, they couldn’t afford to speak too loudly.
He dropped his backpack by the foot of her bed and plopped down on it. “I want to kill myself.” Those words barely made it out, face buried into her mattress.
“Don’t say shit like that.”
A hard slap hit him on the ass, shooting him up on both elbows, head whipping around to look at her. “Ow!”
“That’s for being a loser right after I told you not to! Make some room for me.” She spoke while waving a hand at the bed, so he moved up to a sitting position. The mattress dipped when she sat on it. This time, she had a pair of skinny jeans on and a black crop top with mesh long sleeves. “You’re surprisingly lame for someone who constantly has threesomes,” she added.
“It wasn’t a threesome this time; his boyfriend wasn’t there. How predictable am I? Before I even got there, they already knew I was gonna hit on him or something. I feel stupid.”
“Stop calling yourself stupid; it’s annoying. They probably just thought you were gonna try something because of last time.”
His body slumped back down on the bed again, but on its side, so he wouldn’t kick Emily’s thighs. He sunk his face into her pillow and sighed, deep and long, just shy of screaming. A hand touched him on the leg, shaking it a bit.
“Hey, don’t be this way. I’m only being a hardass because I care about you. You’ll be fine, Theo; your friends love you. Laith loves you. I never said the battle would be easy.”
“I just feel bad.” He spoke into her pillow, legs curled up against his chest, arms stretched between them. If he could see himself right now, he’d probably slap his own face and tell himself to stop acting like a child. An ugly feeling in the center of his chest really wanted someone to hurt him, but not in a good way. He almost even wished Henry was here.
“You’re fine, angel. You’ll be fine; we all love you so much.”
He groaned.
“Do you need a hug?”
A different noise left his throat, noncommittal and meaningless.
“I don’t speak caveman, babe. Say yes or no.”
He hesitated—did he want to be touched right now? The hand on his leg was fine, so maybe he did. He tried picturing it, Emily hugging him, but couldn’t really do it; the only thing his mind could come up with was the one time she’d hugged Laith last week, the surprise on his face.
“Do you hug people a lot?” he asked.
“Not really. Why?”
He mumbled the words I don’t know, shoulders bouncing into a shrug. Every time he breathed, his lungs filled up with jasmine and a very delicate scent, almost sweet—honey? No, it was too grassy for that; another flower, maybe a leaf. It smelled nice. “I like your perfume.”
“Thanks, now can you stop sulking? I don’t know what to do with you.”
Begrudgingly, he sat up again; his legs swung over the edge of the mattress, one hand propped up to lean on. His eyes stared into the abyss, unable to register the room he was in.
Emily moved in his peripherals, but stuck in a trance, he couldn’t see her. “Why do I feel really lucky and really unlucky at the same time?” she asked.
One blink brought him back to reality, eyes focusing on the office chair a few feet from him. “Because I’m here?”
“Duh. That’s not what I mean.”
He almost rolled his eyes. “What is it, then?”
“I think I’m pretty lucky to be the one you go to when you’re in a bad place, but I’m also unlucky for the same reason. Now I’ve smuggled you into my room.”
“That’s bad, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it’s pretty bad.”
He grabbed his own hands, gaze downcast. His feet only touched the floor with the tip of his shoes, heels up in the air; not because the bed was tall, but so he could sway his feet side to side.
“Have you ever thought about hurting yourself?”
Her question skipped a beat in his heart, blood cold for just a second. “Nothing serious.” His voice was quiet, almost shy. “I’ve never done anything.” His hand no longer ached from the door frame.
“Do you think you could?”
“No.” He swallowed the word yes so hard it got stuck in his throat. His feet stopped moving.
“If you think about it again, I want you to call me, okay?”
“I’m not going to start cutting,” he snapped. The kitchen knife came to mind, the one at his mother’s new house, the way he’d felt holding it in his hand. What did Laith use?
“Okay.” She raised a hand, eyebrows up on her forehead. “I wasn’t trying to imply that you would. I just want you to do that favor for me. Can you?”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it.”
She nodded.
“Can we talk about something else now?” he asked. “Let’s talk about Saturday. Where should we go?”
“There’s really only one answer here.”
“No, we can’t go underground because Jessie doesn’t go there. It has to be somewhere on the surface. Laith mentioned Dominico’s.”
Delicate eyebrows furrowed. “I didn’t know we were partying with your friends again.”
“I don’t know if the others are coming; it’s just that Justin wants Jessie there.”
She stared at him, black eyes bouncing back and forth on his face. “Are they dating?”
“Uh.” She still didn’t know? “They’ve been sleeping together, but they’re not dating.”
“If he wants her to come on Saturday, then he must really like her.”
“I mean, yeah.” His throat closed. “He’ll probably tell you this weekend. It’s really recent stuff.”
“Yeah, no shit. What the hell.” The shower shut off in the next room over, drowning the apartment in silence. It prompted her to speak even lower. “He usually tells me this kind of thing as soon as it happens. I can’t remember the last time he’d slept with someone more than once.”
He had no idea what to say.
“Secrets freak me out,” she continued. “What’s so fucked up that I can’t know about?”
“Maybe he just wants to tell you in person. I don’t think it’s really a secret.”
“Bullshit. If it wasn’t, he would’ve already told me. I spoke to him half an hour ago.”
“Is that really the reason you’re upset? ‘Cause he’s keeping a secret?”
“Yes! None of us keep secrets from each other. That’s how it should be. We both know what happened when Laith did it.”
He squinted. “C’mon, Emily. You can tell me.”
“What?”
“You know what.”
The piercing in her eyebrow glinted, eyes glued on his face.
“I know you have feelings for him,” he continued. “When we first met, I totally thought you guys were dating. You’re so close.”
“I love him, Theo, but not like that. I’m upset because I thought he trusted me with these things. I hate being out of the loop.” The crease between her eyebrows tilted upwards. “Does Laith know?”
Ah, shit.
“Yeah. I’m sorry.”
A deep breath filled her lungs, eyes moving up. It looked like she was going to roll them, but that never happened. Instead, she exhaled, shoulders drooping. “Fucking traitors. I spoke to Laith just last night and he didn’t tell me shit.”
“Well… it’s not really his business, so…”
A knock on the door cut their conversation short, startling them both. She quickly sprung up on her feet and told him to hide; her voice was so quiet that he almost missed that. With nowhere to really hide, he scurried between the bed and the wardrobe and crouched, hugging his legs close to his chest, heart hammering into his ribs.
“Hey, Em. Are you having breakfast?” Ryan’s voice traveled through the door, calm like Theodore hadn’t heard in a long time.
The way Emily opened the door put her body in the gap that it formed with the frame, forearm leaning against it. “Hey, yeah, of course. I’m just getting ready.”
“I was thinking about ordering pizza tonight. We could watch that ghost movie you wanted to watch. You haven’t seen it yet, right?”
“No, not yet.”
She stepped outside, out of view, so Theodore craned his neck a bit. He couldn’t see her well, just enough to know that she was eating something. Had Ryan brought her food? He couldn’t really tell what was in her hand and had a feeling that, if he moved too much, Ryan might catch sight of him.
“Pizza sounds good,” she added, clearly speaking through a mouthful of food. So they did have dinner together, after all. “Did you know Justin’s seeing one of Theo’s friends?”
Oh my god, why would she tell him that? It felt like a punch in the gut.
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. Jessie. Do you know her?”
“Not personally, but Theo used to have a crush on her. I think they dated for a while; I don’t know. I didn’t even know Justin knew her.”
Emily hummed.
“Does he really have to come tomorrow?” Ryan asked. “We could party just you and me.”
“We already do that. The weekend’s supposed to be different.”
“I don’t wanna see him, especially now that he’s dating fucking Jessie.”
“It’s just for a couple of hours; calm down. She’s not coming with him.”
Ryan groaned.
“Hey, we’ll party after he leaves, okay? I wanna see him,” Emily urged.
“You’ll see him on Saturday.”
“Stop being a baby.” The sound of silverware clinking against china put a scowl on Theodore’s face. Was she eating out of a bowl? Had Ryan brought her cereal or something? “Let me know when you put in the order so I can pick it up on the way home, okay?”
Theodore’s limited view of her failed to disclose exactly what she was doing, but when the sound of a kiss reached him, he had a pretty good idea. His eyes widened, body growing still. Had she actually just done that? One step backwards brought her closer to the door again, hand touching it.
“Alright, I’ll see you tonight.” Ryan’s tone was somewhere between complacent and joyful—yeah, joyful; something he’d never been. What the hell was happening here?
Back in the room, Emily shut the door behind her.
“Did you just fucking kiss him?” His voice was such a quiet whisper that it prompted her to get closer. “Are you fucking him too?” he added.
“Oh, don’t be stupid. I kissed his cheek.”
“Why? When has that ever been something you do?”
Her shoulders bounced. “He’s my roommate; we’re around each other all the time. We’re close. You’re overreacting.”
“I’m worried!”
“Don’t be.” She stepped into a different pair of boots this time, ankle high with an inverted pentagram on top.
“You’re not supposed to get with him.” He spoke absently, mind running a mile a minute, incomprehensible. “That’s not how it’s supposed to go; you’re supposed to be with Justin.”
“What is that, divination? Are you reading my future? You sound like a witch.”
“No, he likes you! You two were close, then Ryan brought you apart, but now that everything’s fine, you’ll get close again and get together. You’ll realize he was always the one for you and ask him to date you.”
She stared at him, dark eyebrows furrowed the slightest bit. “You’re insufferable today. Did you know that?” Her question was mostly in jest, the way he was starting to understand was her sense of humor.
He got up on both feet. “I’m always insufferable.”
“I don’t like Justin that way,” she clarified. “He’s not my type.”
“If he starts working out, will he be your type?”
“No!” She groaned. “You’re being a freak right now. Stop it.”
In the next room over, Ryan’s bedroom door closed—the sound was quiet, a gentle click, just loud enough for them to hear. She slapped Theodore on the arm before leaving.
“What were you eating?” he whispered, following her close behind. So close, in fact, that he almost stepped on her heels.
“Lucky Charms.”
“Why did he bring you Lucky Charms?”
“I don’t know; he was having a bowl and offered me some.” One of her hands pulled the front door open as the other motioned for him to leave. Out in the hall, she shut the door behind them.
“Do you always eat out of his bowl?”
“Sometimes.” She rolled her eyes, pressing the elevator button. “Can you stop being insane? I’m not sleeping with him.”
“Is he your type?”
She quietly stared at the changing numbers on the elevator display. Her lack of an answer, coupled with the absence of eye contact was all calculated—it told Theodore more than he needed to know. Suddenly, his body grew cold.
“Oh my god, he’s your type. Oh my god, you have a crush on him.”
“That second part isn’t true; I just think he’s handsome.”
Holy shit.
“But there’s nothing going on between us,” she quickly added.
The elevator ding ended their conversation right there. Even though he had a million questions and even more concerns, he decided against mentioning any of it; she was already annoyed at him, and anyway, he wouldn’t even know where to begin.
His morning periods were spent half interested, half reliving everything that had just happened. It was obvious that she didn’t kiss everyone on the cheek, friends or otherwise; she only did it to Ryan because she liked him. She wanted to be with him. God, why did everyone want him? It felt like he was just an ordinary asshole with nothing really interesting to say, but then again, Theodore didn’t actually know him. The little time they’d spent together had only introduced him to one of Ryan’s many façades, which wasn’t even the one he used with his friends. Theodore had no idea who Emily had a crush on, what kind of stuff he liked or the things he talked about. That Ryan was a complete stranger to him. If he had to guess, he’d say that was the Ryan who accompanied Laith on his dangerous stunts and listened to the same kind of music he liked. She had a bit of a type, after all.
At lunch, he slouched in his seat and listened to the girls talk about tomorrow. It all sounded fun and interesting, but he couldn’t get this morning out of his head. He pushed his food around with a plastic fork, head resting against his fist. It didn’t take Jessie very long to notice it.
“What is it, Theo?”
He dropped the fork and glanced up. All of his friends were looking back at him with worry in their brows. “Everything is going wrong,” he told them. “Emily’s interested in the wrong guy, Laith doesn’t like me, Hwan has somebody else and Justin’s gonna get his heart broken. It’s all wrong!”
“What do you mean, Justin’s gonna get his heart broken?” she asked.
“Jessie.” He touched her arm. “I know he likes you and that’s great, but he’s in love with Emily. They’ve been friends forever and he’s had a crush on her this whole time; they’re perfect for each other. She has to see that!”
Her back straightened, scowl deepening. “Oh… I didn’t know that.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Hannah cut in.
“I’m talking about fate! Don’t you see all the pieces lining up? It’s like someone looked at the stars in the universe and decided, you know what? I’m just gonna fall for the wrong guy. I’ll just be with somebody else! It’s fucked up!” He practically screamed that last part, chest bursting with vexation.
“Are you upset because Laith doesn’t wanna date you?”
And just like that, her comment popped his lungs and slumped him over the backrest of his chair, sighing. “I just hate that nothing’s working out for anyone. It fucking sucks.”
“I thought Justin and I were doing well,” Jessie commented. Her voice was small, almost shy.
He decided against speaking his thoughts on that. “I just feel so miserable. There’s a reason why he doesn’t wanna be with me; I just can’t see it. He said he wanted to choose me first, but…” He trailed off, chest flattening with a deep sigh. “Am I unlovable?”
Looks were exchanged.
“Of course not,” Jessie interjected. “You are very lovable.”
“I wouldn’t say very lovable, but you’re definitely someone I like.”
He stared at Daisy. “Why wouldn’t you say I’m very lovable?”
“She doesn’t mean that,” Jessie cut in.
“No, I do. You’re pretty egotistical, is why I wouldn’t say that. You’re likable.”
He scowled.
“Is Laith making you feel that way?” Nadia asked.
“Hey, I’m not egotistical; I’m just going through something. Obviously, what I have to say is about me, because it’s related to what I’m going through.”
“I understand that, but all of us are dealing with our own demons too and you don’t see us talk about ourselves all the time, do you? Sometimes, it’s about community.”
“But I need help. The only reason I’m talking about myself is because I need your help!”
“That’s fair; it just feels like the only time you talk to us is when you need our help. Otherwise, you’re gone.”
“You’re not helping me feel very lovable.”
“You’re not giving me reason to.”
Jessie cleared her throat. “I think Nadia’s question is pretty interesting—is Laith making you feel this way?”
“Yeah, him and someone else too.” With that, he got up and left.
Egotistical… he wanted to laugh. He wasn’t—he wasn’t egotistical, right? No, of course not; circumstances had just made him come off that way. Nothing had ever been about him before; this was the first time he sat in the limelight and dammit, he was going to make it a spectacle. His entire life had been spent in Ryan’s shadow, trying to make himself small, staying out of trouble because he knew his mother couldn’t handle two high-maintenance kids. She only had so much energy, and if he was being honest, he’d preferred to help her recharge. Now that he lived on his own, he could be as unapologetically himself as possible, even if that meant coming off as a self-absorbed queen. Truth was, he’d never thought about himself, what he wanted out of life or how he wanted to live it. This was the first time he was able to really asses that, so why should he apologize? Why should he make himself small again? At this point, he might never be able to—and that was a good thing.
The butt of his pencil tapped on the desk. How was he egocentric if his friends were all he could think about? Laith was on the forefront of his mind every damn day of his pathetic little life, and now Emily had started to crawl in there too, the way she’d stepped into her boots yesterday, the shape of her ass, the fact she was head over heels for Ryan—goddammit. His chest burned in a thousand flames at the mere thought of his friend and his brother together. What did Sherry have to say about that? Probably nothing, given the nature of her relationship with Ryan. She might even know.
To think Ryan practically had two girlfriends—god, he could scream. His leg bounced rapidly, jaw set tight. On a whim, or perhaps in a desperate attempt to calm himself down, he bit his own hand. He did it hard, teeth sinking into the fleshy part near his thumb. It hurt, but it kept the scream down, the literal representation of biting it back. Letting go of his hand, he straightened up and opened Emily’s chat window.
Please don’t sleep with Ryan.
His text was never answered.
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