#Chapter5
/"Sometimes,/" I replied honestly. I think given the circumstances, I was beyond lying. /"Not often though. Just when I'm feeling—blah!/"
They felt best to use after a really bad day at school. There had been a boy in my year that liked to be so mean to me. He called me a freak. He made his friends play pranks on me and laugh at me. He teased me because I would run away and hide rather than engage in his torment, if I could, or would stutter my way through his insults if I couldn't. He had never hit me. I think he was too scared of Isaac to do that, but his words still hurt. Coming home after a day like that, breaking out the paci and letting my mind take me to a much happier place?
It was a feeling that just couldn't be described. Trying would be like comparing an adult who had never tried chocolate before in their whole, entire life finally getting to try a piece.
It was magical.
Well, it had felt magical until its safety and confidentiality had been compromised.
/"Why?/" He turned, pointing at the little heap of picture tiles that were printed with animal pictures. I played snap with them when I settled into a younger mindset. /"Because they feel good? Because you like them?/"
I found myself nodding. I found myself praying like anything that Isaac was still fast asleep and hadn't been woken up. It would have been beyond mortifying to have him walk in on this, too.
/"I think I finally get it./"
/"Get what?/" I questioned, head tilting.
/"You./" This time, the smile seemed almost nervous, but his tone held a smugness. /"You're a Little, aren't you?/"
A feather could have knocked me off my feet. I was that stunned that for a second, I could only blink. I hadn't expected somebody like Blake to know and understand what that word meant when put into that context.
It was the kind of thing that would have drawn a blank look from a lot of people.
/"I didn't want to be like this,/" I whispered at last. Voice trembling, on the cusp of breaking, when he moved towards me, operating with deliberate slowness, as though to reassure me that I could have stepped away if I wanted to, he held his arms out in a hug offer. I accepted. /"How did you — how did you know that?/"
I had wanted to be a nice, normal boy that liked football and boobies, and shooting spitballs at the back of people's heads. I didn't want to be like this, like I was torn in two by two parts of me that had so often in the past battled for control.
I had just wanted to be somebody that my dad would have been proud to announce as his son, the way he would brag to people about Isaac and his accomplishments.
/"I Googled it,/" he admitted, almost sheepishly. His arms were a protection that I wasn't even aware that I sought. They were strong and solid, as unmovable as the trees of the Amazon. /"I thought about what I had seen, and then I thought about the way you act. I mean, you talk funny sometimes. You say words funny, and you act so much younger than you are. I remembered the way that you wanted to go to McDonald's and get a happy meal toy for your birthday instead of going to laser tag, or the places most teenage boys would want a party./"
He pushed me back. Enough space was put between us that the place where our bodies had just joined could have fit another person between us.
/"I looked it up. There were a lot of answers, not all of them good, but then I found that. It . . . fit? It would explain a lot, too, if you were./"
/"I'm sorry./"
/"Don't apologize./" Shaking his head, his frown was back. /"I'm glad. I understand now and I'm so glad. You're like a brother to me, Oz. I worry about you the way that Isaac does. I know some of the kids at school can be dicks—/" Which made me wince as I thought about the scenario with Jake, the mean bully boy, that I had refused to let Isaac know about because I just knew he would have been super mad /"—and the thought of you going back without me or Eyes there to protect you next year had been bothering me a lot./"
/"You were worried about me?/" For reasons I couldn't even begin to explain, that made me feel as special as when Isaac would ruffle my hair and tell me that I was his best pal. Maybe even more so. I hadn't even thought that was possible.
Eyebrows lifting, amusement shining in his eyes, he gave a small incline of his head. /"You and your family have always been there for me. You and Isaac? You're my family in every way that matters. I care about you both more than anything else in this world./"
/"I thought you were going to be disgusted./" Legs turning to jell-o, the floor became my butt's new best friend. Sitting helped with the urge to vomit, too.
/"No./" He gave a considering pause, his eyes sweeping the box of a room once more. /"I found it unnerving at first. Intimidating, even, but the more I read, the more I allowed myself to accept that it wasn't as scary as I had made it seem, the more I'm glad that I didn't tell Isaac. I almost did./"
I was glad, too. /"So you don't think it's weird?/"
/"I thought it was weird at first. Wrong, even./" I flinched at that but Blake continued.
/"But then I looked it up. Tried my best to understand it from your point of view and realized that I was wrong. It's . . . different, but not —but not different in a bad kind of way./" Blake frowned as he spoke, as though he were struggling to find the right words.
/"I just wanted you to know that we're good, okay, odd bod? I won't tell Isaac and I still love you the same. Nothing changes. And if . . . I don't know, if you ever need anybody to talk to, I'm here for you. I can't promise to always understand but I can promise to always listen./"
And with that, Blake left, patting me on the shoulder as he let himself out.
And all I could do was gawk after him, trying to convince myself that he really had just said that, and that it had all just really happened.