I eye Fulton as he picks at the bedspread. There's definitely something irking him, and I want to know what it is. We've been at the Bridges' house for two days, and nothing bad has happened. I mean, nothing bad that would put him in this kind of mood. So I'm figuring it's me.
I'm not paranoid by nature, but it doesn't take a rocket scientist to see that Fulton isn't – and hasn't been for some time – happy with me.
I have a few of choices. I could wait for it to blow over, and basically let the whole summer be miserable for both of us. Or I could confront him, and try to make the best summer we've ever had.
Hmm…I wonder which I'll choose.
"Fulton, what's on your mind?" I ask.
"Huh?" He says, somewhat bewildered. "Oh. Nothing."
I have to ask myself, why did I start like that? I knew that he would say that…
"You know what?" I snap. "Don't tell me. Keep it to yourself. Brood on it all summer. Do what you want, but don't think I never asked."
I'm so sick of this, I know he's not happy, but it's about time he started talking to someone about it. I've been there for him the whole time, it's not like I want a medal for it, but I wish he'd open up a little.
It's making me crazy. Like that stupid fight we had about Maya. I know she's not out to take him away, in fact I'm all for him talking to other people. I just got jealous that he might open up to her and not me.
Sometimes I even wonder why we're still together. If I'm not making him happy any more, why is he still with me? What's the point?
"Portman…"
"What?" I sigh and take a deep breath. I shouldn't snap at him, this is horribly difficult for him and I should show some compassion. "I'm sorry I snapped." And maybe if I do, he'll let me in on what's bothering him.
Or not.
"I'm fine, really." He shakes it off.
"Fine. You're fine. I'm fine. This whole relationship is fine. Jesus, I'm sick of that word." And with that I walk out and slam the door behind me.
I don't know where I'm going, I just know I can't stay in this room with him. I'll be too tempted to say something, and I don't want to mess up this relationship any more than it already it is.
*~*~*~*
I had no idea I was going to do that. I very rarely lose my temper, I get annoyed, sure, but this was on a different level. Ok, so I didn't say all that much, but I said enough. And I should feel sorry that I snapped at him, but I don't. I've been thinking that for months now, it's good to finally let him know.
I look around, I have no idea where I am. That's the thing with walking off in a blind huff when you don't know the area. You end up lost. Wonderful.
I try retracing my steps, but to be honest, I wasn't paying any attention when I left the Bridge's house, so it's an almost useless plan.
I end up in a park where a bunch of kids are playing street hockey. I take a seat and watch them. For the first time in almost a year, I really want to play. Hockey used to be fun, I used to enjoy it, then all hell broke loose and it just became a way to stay at a school I hated. It was like a double whammy of non-fun.
"For a six foot hulk of muscle, you're impossible to find, you know that?"
I look up and Fulton's standing next to me, he looks taller than usual, but then I realise that he's wearing blades.
"I looked all over for you." He notices me staring at his feet. "Thought it would be faster, brought yours too."
I stare at him. Did he even notice that I stormed out mid-fight? Ok, he's acknowledged I left the house, but he's acting as if nothing is wrong.
Why am I even surprised?
I sigh deeply.
As does he. Then he takes a seat. "Ok, I can't gloss over this, can I?"
"I just don't like you shutting me out." I say finally.
He runs his fingers through his hair nervously. "Sometimes it's easier."
"You've never had trouble talking to me before."
"Yeah, well, it was never about you before." He snaps.
I flinch back. This is about me? It's not like I hadn't guessed, but… I didn't expect it to hurt so much. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, blinking several times to make sure tears weren't escaping.
"So why am I here?" I ask in the most neutral tone I can muster.
He gives me a sad smile. "Because you stormed out after a fight."
"No. Why am I spending the summer with you if we're breaking up?"
"Breaking up? Who said anything about breaking up?" He asks worriedly. "Unless you're breaking up with me?"
I take another deep breath, this one to try and calm myself enough to make sense of the conversation. "You did, just now… didn't you?"
He frowns. "No, I really didn't. Unless I did by accident."
"Can we start this again. You're somehow pissed at me, and have been for a long time, but you're not breaking up with me?"
"I'm not pissed off with you." He yells in exasperation, then smiles. "Can you see now why this is difficult for me?"
I grin back at him. It's the first genuine smile I've seen from him in months. Come to think of it, it's my first genuine smile in months too.
"Ok, I'll shut up now. Let's take it from the top."
He reaches out and takes my hand. I'm a little surprised by the openness, but pleased. It's been awhile since he reached out for me. "I feel like I owe you." He says softly.
I open my mouth to respond, but think better of it. How can he open up to me if I don't shut up? Instead I squeeze his hand encouragingly.
"You've been so amazing, you've supported me and…" He looks me in the eyes. "You loved me, no matter how horrible I've been to you, you loved me, and I just don't know what I can give back."
"It's not because I'm hoping to get something back." I tell him.
"I know that." He says softly. "But knowing something and feeling it are completely different."
He rests his chin on my shoulder. "I'm really sorry. I'm sorry for how I've been acting, I'm sorry for shutting you out, I'm sorry for just about everything."
"Don't be." I smile at him. "Just don't shut me out again. I'd rather hear what you're worrying about than have to guess."
"I just don't want to burden you with it."
"It's not a burden. I love you. I want you to be happy."
"I love you too." He grins at me.
I move closer and kiss him, neither of us care that we're in public and any minute now we might get our queer asses kicked halfway across the park.
"Hey!"
We break apart in surprise and turn to the source of the voice. It turns out to be a couple of kids from the street hockey game. They look about twelve years old.
"Are you guys the Bash Brothers from the Junior Goodwill Games?" One of them asks.
I nod and Fulton mutters an affirmative, reluctantly waiting for the torrent of abuse.
The kid turns to his friend. "I told you it was them." Then he turns back to us, blushing a little. "I don't suppose you want to…" He tails off and gestures to the game going on behind him.
I grin at Fulton. "What do you think?"
He grins back even bigger. "Hell yeah!"
I pull on my skates and as we move towards the game I distinctly hear the kid say, "Fulton and Portman, it's just too cool!"