Adam Silvera - More Happy Than Not

“It’s not only what I want,” I say. “It’s what everyone wants.”

I hide the folder under my mattress like it’s porn or something, and I go outside to grab an iced tea at Good Food’s. I’m about to pay Mohad when I catch Brendan in the pastries aisle stuffing coffee cakes into his pockets.

“Do you need a dollar?” I ask, and he jumps. “I can spot you a dollar if you promise not to hit me.”

He doesn’t flip me off or tell me to go fuck myself, so I walk over and hold out the one-dollar bill.

“I have money,” Brendan says. “I’m trying to save up.”

“Okay.”

“You going to snitch and get me banned?”

“Not if you let me buy that for you. Truce?”

Brendan smirks and hands me the coffee cakes. “Truce.”

I buy everything at the counter from Mohad. I feel something like hope as we leave the store together. There’s always an awkward silence after our fights. It happened in third grade after he dissed me in front of the entire class for sleeping in the same bed as my parents; it happened again on Christmas morning a few years ago, when he stole a controller my mom had gotten me out from under my tree and claimed his father had gotten him the same one. And even though Brendan was the one who attacked Thomas, I’m guilty for not choosing his side.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“My bad too.” Brendan tears open the coffee cake and asks, “You want to play manhunt? I was thinking about getting a game going.”

We go to the first court where everyone is gathered around the Skelzies board. They’re talking about how to get a girl wet with only their fingers and how you don’t need a condom if you’re hitting it from the back. I don’t try to fake a laugh or chime in. I wouldn’t do that, anyway, and this way it’s natural: I can look and feel the same, like I’m still one of them. Brendan nods, as if to say I’m cool again, and all is good.

“Fuck Skelzies. Manhunt time. Aaron already volunteered to be hunter.”

“Asshole,” I mutter as everyone runs off into different directions.

I check underneath cars for Skinny-Dave, but he must actually be sober because he wasn’t dumb enough to hide there today. I do a quick sweep for where Me-Crazy might be hiding down here. No luck and I’m cool with maybe never solving that mystery because spending more time with that insane bastard isn’t high up on my to-do list.

I get back to the courtyard and spot Fat-Dave up on the roof and he moons me. I flip him off. I see Nolan and Deon and chase them as they run out of the gates. They split up right when I see Thomas walking toward me, and for a second I think about catching him until I remember he’s not part of the game.

He’s actually here.

Thomas quickly says, “I know things are weird even though we didn’t want them to be.” He looks me straight in the eyes, and I try and catch my breath. I don’t know whether to float or sink yet. “But you’re my best friend and I miss having you around. I know you don’t actually have a thing for me. Drinking confuses people like that, so we’ll call the whole thing taboo and not talk about it for the next ten years or so. Let’s hang and talk about Sun Warden while I apply to a job to—”

“Why can’t I like you?”

“Because it wouldn’t work out in the long run,” Thomas says.

“Because I don’t fit into your little hierarchy of needs?”

“Because I’m straight. Stretch.” His voice has an edge now. “I thought we wanted to forget it ever happened.”

“Yeah, well. Forgetting isn’t as easy as you’re making it sound.” My throat tightens. “I can’t sit around you and act like nothing happened, or to wait around for you to figure things out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out,” Thomas says. “I know I can be really confused about what I should be doing with my life and how I feel like I don’t belong, but I have no doubts about what gets my heart going and my dick hard. That’s not meant to be a blow to you, Stretch, but it’s just the way I’m wired.”

“I was like that once. I denied it, but then I met you over there by that fence and it flipped around everything I ever thought about myself. I didn’t want to be unhappy so I stopped dating someone I can’t actually love. I get it if you need more time.”

“I can’t live up to this fantasy playing out in your head,” Thomas shoots back.

Without thinking about it, I hug him and hold on to him even though he’s not hugging me back. “I can’t promise I’ll wait.”

I don’t think the pain will vanish the way Evangeline thinks it will. I’m sure waiting for unfulfilled expectations will only make weeks feel like months, months feel like decades, and decades feel like my end of days. If there’s no happiness waiting for me there, then I lived a life without laughs and smiles and that’s not living at all.

I turn my back on him.

I move back into the complex and walk across the third court when two big hands grab my shoulders. I half expect it to be Thomas spinning me around to lead me somewhere private, but instead I find myself falling forward and rolling into a pillar by my building. Fear chokes me. I doubt it’s those bastards from the Joey Rosa Projects because I had nothing to do with Me-Crazy beating their boys down.

This attack is personal. These are my friends. I pick myself up. It’s Me-Crazy, backed by Brendan, Skinny-Dave, and Nolan — too many to outrun.

“Fight back, faggot,” Me-Crazy challenges, rolling his eyes back until they’re just white. He’s going to start pounding on his head any moment now and I’ll be laid out.

“What the fuck is your problem?” I ask him.

“Me-Crazy saw you hugging your boyfriend,” Me-Crazy says.

Nolan chimes in, “Why you playing with other dudes? You had a bomb-ass girlfriend, and Bren told us you stopped hitting that.”

“It’s for your own good,” Brendan says, too ashamed to look me in the eye like the man he wants me to be and thinks he is. He cracks his knuckles and rocks back and forth, and I almost laugh at how ridiculous he looks.

I get in his face, so close that I could kiss him and really piss them all off. “Come on, guys. Try and beat it out of me.”

The rules of the street aren’t clear, but I’ve known people — Brendan, actually — who walked away from a serious beat-down from our rival high school because he kicked one guy’s ass and earned everyone’s respect. Maybe if I fuck up Brendan, or Skinny-Dave who looks too high for his own good, that’ll get them to back off.

Brendan shoves me. I recover. I shove him back and slam into him with the hardest head-butt I can swing without knocking myself out. Brendan, somewhat dazed, fakes right and swings a hard uppercut into my chin with his left. I kick him in his knee, hard like he taught me, and he collapses so I knee him in the nose. Then Skinny-Dave comes at me with a sucker punch, but it’s Me-Crazy who actually tackles me down to the ground and I know I’ve lost. I can’t move out from under his grip. Now it’s all pain. Resisting gets harder and everything becomes dimmer and blurrier with each punch to my face and each blow to my chest. Me-Crazy is roaring while he strangles me, and Skinny-Dave and Nolan stomp me out.

I shout and twist and cry and guard my face with the one arm I manage to get free. Me-Crazy gets off of me and I think it’s over. I’m so dizzy. The ground I’m crumbled on is spinning around, first one way and then another. I don’t even bother trying to crawl away. I feel like I’m falling…

No, someone is picking me up. I confused up with down. But the terrifying sensation of Crazy Train Mode is insanely familiar. He runs with me over his shoulder, and I hear Brendan yelling at him to stop, that he’s taking it too far, but Me-Crazy keeps running. I don’t know where we’re going until we crash through the glass door of my building and I’m sprawled across the lobby floor.