"I love you."
The true measure of my mistake only comes seconds later, looking at the pained expression on his face, and I regret my decision immediately. He's straight and he'll never want me around again. That's the end of this.
He seems dizzy, at first, planting both hands on the doorframe to hold himself up. I can't even imagine what he must be thinking right now, and I realize I should've packed my stuff up this morning. But I wasn't planning on doing this today. Or ever.
His expression slowly shifts from pained to exhausted, and he takes a wobbly step forward.
I don't know what to say. He doesn't know what to say.
This isn't how I wanted this to go. Obviously.
"I think... I should go."
He nods slightly.
I turn and go into my room, closing the door behind me. My legs give out and I sit on my bed, staring at my reflection in the television screen.
What have I done?
I close my eyes, but I can't get the look on his face out of my head, not for a moment. He looked like someone had smacked him in the stomach with a hammer and knocked the wind out of him. He had been smiling, moments before. I should've stopped there.
I fell so hard, so fast. I rub my cheek, where he kissed it, days ago. The lingering ghost of the kiss has faded, now, but I remember it precisely. My heart was racing. I knew, then, when he did that, that I wasn't just obsessed or infatuated or helplessly sexually attracted to him. I shouldn't have let myself feel like this, for someone I could never be with. I shouldn't have wanted him to fall for me like I fell for him. I should've checked, double checked, before I let my heart out.
But now...
What have I done?
I open my eyes again and get up, starting to pack everything back into my suitcase. There might be a hotel I can stay in for a bit.
I wonder if I could go back and live with my parents again? Would they ask what happened? What could I say? I can't think of anymore lies and I kind of feel like I'm tired of trying to hide half of myself from them.
But I'm still scared. I still close my eyes and imagine telling them and all I can think of are the horror stories, the possibility of murder, the possibility that I won't have my parents anymore.
They could kill me. They could disown me. I'd be dead or alone. And who would care, at that point? Who would call the cops on my parents if they hurt me? Nobody.
I shake my head. It's my parents or a hotel. I can't lease another apartment in the span of twelve hours.
God, Arthur, you're an idiot. And a bit of a slut. It's been seven stupid months since Ben broke up with you and you're already confessing your love to someone else. How desperate are you?
Stupid.
I shove the last handful of clothes into my bags and zip them up, picking them up and heading downstairs. I hear Aedin in his room but he doesn't come out. I wonder if he really knows what I meant by "go."
My bags fit haphazardly in the backseat of the car, different from the careful way I put them in when I came here. I don't feel like fitting them in nicely, I don't care anymore.
I walk around the car and get into the driver's seat, feeling the anger in my stomach slowly growing. I'm angry. Really, really angry at myself.
I'm so selfish and stupid and everything. Everything.
I start up the car and pull out of his driveway, forcing myself to avert my eyes from the house. It became a home, a little slice of one, where I felt comfortable and understood. It felt like maybe I could be happy and honest with and about myself here.
And then I fucked everything up. I always fuck everything up. I knew it could ruin our friendship but I never fully prepared myself to live life without him again. I had forgotten how lonely it truly was, before I moved in.
I pull into a drive thru, following the Golden Arches. If anything can make me feel better, even momentarily, it'll be salty, oily, perfect French fries and chicken nuggets. I open my phone while I wait, opening Maps, and search up for hotels in the area.
There's one a few blocks away, and I tap to get directions, then set my phone on the passenger's seat to order.
A few minutes later and I'm cruising down the road, nibbling on the corner of a chicken nugget and following the directions. I'm not really hungry, and the smell of the food makes my stomach turn, but I know that when I get there, the initial shock might wear off and I'll want this stuff.
The hotel is a motel. It looks like a strip mall, kind of, with a fence around it like a private storage facility. I pull up to the booth put front, and roll down my window.
The woman behind the counter is big and round, with a pleasant face and big, curly, honey-colored hair. Her name tag says 'Diane.' Her smiling face makes my heart shrivel up more, but I try my best to be nice. She doesn't deserve to be snapped at, and, by the look of her, she's just as drained as I am.
I wish her a lovely night in the most sincere voice I can muster and take the key fob for the room, pulling into the parking lot inside the complex and turning off the car.
I get out, taking my bags and locking the car, then trudge up to the door of my room and open it with the fob. And despite the fact that everything goes smoothly, I can't help but have the thought in my head; why must everything be so goddamn difficult?
I dump my bags onto an armchair near the door and collapse onto the bed, letting it screech and crackle beneath me. Great. Creaky boards and plastic. I'm gonna sleep very well.
My phone begins to vibrate, and, in the seconds before I take it out, I'm filled with a million different emotions.
What if it's Aedin?
What if it's Mom and Dad?
I don't want to talk to any fucking people right now.
What if it's...
Ben.
A blocked number, his number, shows on my screen in a soft white font.
I tap the green button.