Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Over the next few days, the volume and frequency of our messages increased. It felt like I was getting closer to him, although it also felt like he kept pulling away. His first reply:

You've got to be joking?

And my next one:

No. Let's do it. You said you wanted to.

Him:

I said I love the IDEA of it. Not the reality. Absolutely not. I can't. You don't understand.

I wasn't sure why he thought I wouldn't understand. Surely we were going through similar things and had similar fears?

Try me.

His response to me was a body blow:

I'm taking a punt and assuming you're sixth form like me. Were you in the common room the other day? When Zara asked Jamie about taking another girl to the ball? See the reaction? Not one person thought it would be OK. And that would be just the start of the problems.

I'd already worked out he was sixth form, but the confirmation was good. And he clearly didn't know who I was. But my head spun, mind ablaze with trying to remember who was in the common room that day, blasting with excitement that he was among them – I was close to him, I just didn't know how close – mixed with complete devastation that he'd watched me as I failed to stick up for Zara. And that was what hurt the most. My own uselessness. My own cowardice.

Did I even want him to know who I was now?

Would he even want to know me?

I needed to think.

And I needed to talk it through with Electra that evening. (Yes, we're now at the point where we're acting like that's fine and normal. What is reality anyway? Do you know? Does anyone? I don't.)

"Mmmm, okaaaay," Electra said, looking at me over steepled fingers. "You're ashamed you weren't being real. You worry he'll think less of you. And yet, getting it wrong, our imperfections, are what make us human. In that sense, they are completely real." She smiled at me. "If you were some shining example of perfect judgement, pure of heart and mind, who never put a foot wrong – well, then I would say you weren't real."

"I feel like this is just twisting words to make me feel better."

"Then answer me this: do you want him to like you for who you really are, warts and all, or do you always want to have to pretend around him?" She raised her eyebrows. "We know the answer, so let's move on, kiddo. You haven't even worked out who it is yet; god knows how many clues you need; why haven't you even checked to see who's in that supervised private study class on Fridays?"

"I'm respecting his privacy."

"No, you're scared. Scared of making it too real. Which loops us back round to the first point, but also connects with my third: fear is a rational, human response. But do you know what, kiddo? You need to feel that fear, and you need to do it anyway."

"And if I don't?"

"Well, you'll just be miserable, won't you? You'll live a life of lies and you'll sink in them. You deserve a shot at happiness, Jamie. You're a good guy. I've grown to like you."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Uh-huh. I hate the way most other boys your age are only interested in one thing. You actually engage with me, we talk, it's very refreshing." She met my eyes. "So? What are you going to do?"

"Feel the fear. And do it anyway."

She smiled. "Anything you're ready to tell me yet?"

"I can't."

"That's OK. You don't have to."

"I want to."

"Sometimes saying it out loud can help. There's no one here. Just me and you. No one can hear. No one will know. You can just try it out, see how it feels. Think of it … like trying on a new shirt. Maybe you'll like it, maybe you won't. Maybe it'll feel right, maybe it won't. But you can't be sure … until you've tried it."

I nodded.

And I swallowed.

"Electra…" I stopped and sighed. "Do you have a surname?"

"No, I'm just Electra."

"It just feels like I should use your full name – for a big moment?"

"You're building it up too much, kid."

I took a breath. "Electra, from primetime Saturday night ITV show Wave Warriors?"

"What is it, Jamie Hampton?"

I stared at her.

And she smiled back at me.

"I'm gay."