Who I Am

Chapter 6

Dean

Ron wouldn't speak to me the next day. I knew why: he had seen me kissing Draco. Either that or he had heard about it from an eyewitness. But I was sure this was the problem. No doubt about it. Half the school knew now, and the number was growing. I was getting the evil eye even more than ever now (especially by women).

Finally, after much consideration, I stood by his locker and waited to confront him. I leaned against the cold metal of the locker, the lock jabbing me in the shoulder. I saw him coming up the hall. My heart began to hurt the moment I laid eyes on him. Ron stopped in front of me.

"Please move."

I looked up at him with big eyes. He was taller than me by a few inches, much like most other boys my age. The usually friendly smile was replaced with a frown now, a real rarity.

"No. I want to talk, Ron."

"Move," he said, with more force this time.

"Like hell I will." I frowned back. "I know you're angry—"

"Angry? At you? What gave you that idea!" he shouted, voice dripping sarcasm.

I leaned forward and said softly, "It's about Draco, isn't it, Ron? You saw us, right?"

His eyes narrowed. "Damn straight I saw you. Half the school saw!" We fell silent here. I didn't know what to say now. What could possibly make this better for him? How would I make him understand? "You kissed him and walked to his car with a glazed look in the eye. I don't know (or even want to know) where you went after that or what you did."

I looked away. I heard Ron bang his head against a locker.

"Did you sleep with him, Harry?"

"You just contradicted yourself," I pointed out. "And, no, I didn't. But . . . almost."

"How's that?" Interest now showed in his bright eyes.

I took a deep breath and backed away from his locker. "Put your books up. I'll tell you about it in the car. That is, if you'll give me a ride?"

Ron nodded. "Of course."

After school, I stood beside the red Jeep and looked for Ron. I looked down at myself at the thought of that look on his face this morning. My heart had never hurt so much in my life. . .

I scolded myself at that lie. My heart had been hurt before and almost as bad as it hurt now. The pain wasn't the person's fault, either. It was all mine. I was the source of my own suffering.

I had been in love before Ron. I had fallen even more quickly, too. It was 9th grade, the year I came out (or was found out is more like it) that I met Dean. His skin was dark ebony as were his eyes. The color of his skin contrasted with the color of his teeth, which were so white they had to be veneers. He smiled often, no matter what the circumstances. I finally figured it was to show off his beautiful teeth. Even though Dean was African American he rarely used slang or wore overly large jeans. Even his voice. . . I had a feeling that if you closed your eyes and listened to him talk you would swear he was Caucasian. Not only was he a black boy who acted white, he was also gay. I could tell the moment I set eyes on him. It was odd because he wasn't doing anything to draw attention to himself. Dean was just leaning on the brick wall of the school, eyes glazed, and a smooth smile gracing his lips. . . I never saw anyone look so comfortable in their own skin. . . Except maybe Ron.

It makes me smile just to think of Dean. But then. . . It also pains me.

"Harry?"

I snapped back to see Draco standing over me. A blush crept up on me and I looked away. "What?" I tried to sound as menacing as possible to cover up for the redness.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to give it another go."

"No, Draco. I told you already, I don't want to be with you."

He came around to face me. "How can you honestly say you don't want me?"

"Get away from me." I turned to the other side, trying my best to look over him.

"Playing hard-to-get, I assume?" Draco came around to my other side.

"Like hell." I looked back the other way. "You wish. You've practically ruined my chances of being with Ron—"

"Sorry to break it to you Harry, but you had no chance to begin with."

I pretended not to hear that last comment. "I have a ride with him today; I don't want you screwing me up again."

"I didn't get a chance to screw you, how can I do it again?" He came around to disrupt my vision once again. What was this? Some screwed up version of ring-around-the-rosy?

"Get out of my face!"

"Done and doner." A fist came out of nowhere and punched Draco hard in the cheek, throwing him against the glossy red paint of Ron's Jeep. I watched as Draco fell to the concrete, cursing wildly. Then I turned to see my savior.

Ron smiled down at me. "Get in before he comes completely to." I jumped in quickly.

"What did you mean by almost?"

I knew he'd want to know. Shame on me for saying anything.

I took in a deep breath. "He just took me to his house, we made out for a while and then he. . . Took off my clothes. . . He touched me. . . But I wouldn't let him go any further, I swear."

"I believe you." Ron looked over at me with a reassuring smile. I smiled back. "But why?"

"Why what?"

"Why wouldn't you let him go any further?"

"I don't love him, Ron. The guy's a real bastard in case you haven't noticed. Man's gotta have his standards. Yes, even the gay ones have them." I smiled a little more broadly.

Ron laughed. I loved seeing him laugh again. He had seamed a little troubled lately and hardly wanted to smile. . . I hated it when a person lost their smile. Like Dean lost his. . . I didn't want that to happen to Ron on a count of me. I had to back off. But, at the same time, I couldn't.

"Look Harry. . ."

"Hmm?" I noticed his smile had faded already. Damn.

"I also wanted to talk about. . . That kiss. . ."

"So did I." I admitted.

He parked at the nearest parking lot, which just so happened to be a Winn-Dixie shopping center, then turned to me.

I launched into confessions as fast as he put it in park. "It may have been just a kiss to you, but to me it was a lot more. You really mean a lot to me, Ron. I want to be with you. . ." I placed a hand on his for emphasis.

Much to my surprise, he turned his hand over and laced our fingers together. "Of course it was special, it was your first. It was mine too."

I looked up from our hands and looked into his eyes. Was he saying he felt the same for me? I couldn't breathe. . .

"But, I don't like guys. I don't like you that way, Harry."

My face fell. The anger flooded my veins as they had the other night. "Then why did you kiss me? Why are you holding my hand like this? I don't believe you're telling me the whole truth, Ron. You always seamed like the type who wouldn't care what other's think, why do you care now? You seamed alright with me being gay, now you can't even look at me properly." I picked up his face with one hand and turned him to look into my eyes. "You felt something. Why else would you be so nervous?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." He hit me away and began to move farther to his door.

My heart was hurting. I was getting payback for Dean, I could feel it. Dean had loved me, I loved him back, but I wouldn't admit it. I couldn't admit it. . . But I finally did come to terms with who I was. . . After Dean left and went to another school.

"You always said you were good at reading faces. What is mine saying to you now?"

He looked back at me and I took his hands again, placing them on either side of my face. Ron studied me for a moment and began running his thumb against my cheek. His eyes were misting over and trying to keep from going red, much like mine.

"It's saying I couldn't hurt you anymore if I ran you over with my Jeep and backed up. . ."

"Don't joke about this." I whispered, trying not to let him hear my voice break. I didn't want him to go out with me because he felt sorry; I wanted him to go out with me because he loved me.

"I wasn't joking, but I'm sorry it came across that way." He pulled me closer by the jaw and bent down, kissing my left eyebrow.

"And don't kiss me if you don't mean it." I added, pulling away and trading Ron's warm body for the cold glass window of the car. A stray tear escaped my eye at that moment. . .

Dean was leaning against the door of my room, his forehead against the wood. I felt awkward. What was I supposed to do? A gay man had just declared his love for me and all I could say was: "I don't like you that way, Dean."

"Are you sure, Harry?" he whispered against the cold door.

My body ached to go over and put both arms around him, to tell him I loved him more than he could ever be loved. . . It wasn't just my body that ached, my heart hurt too.

His hand touched the knob and I heard him give a shaky sigh. I came so close to going over and putting my hand on his, whispering gently in his ear. . .

"What did you feel?" I whispered, spinning back to Ron. I didn't care at that moment if he saw my tears or not.

He was silent in his seat, wrists resting on the wheel. It seamed a lifetime before he answered me. "Nothing, Harry. I felt absolutely nothing."

It was a lie. I could feel it. It was a lie. I knew it. It was a lie. He couldn't look at me while saying it. It was a lie. . .

"Just take me home, Ron." I couldn't even look at him while saying this. "Just. . ."

I didn't need to repeat myself.

AN: This chapter is so sad! Sorry, but it isn't the last sad chappy either. The next is absolutely gut-wrenching to be honest. . . NEwayz, I hope you are all enjoying this story! See you next chappy!