Chapter 3

Nico's Point of View

I'm curled up in my bed staring out the window at the falling rain when there's a knock at the door. I quickly grab a book from my nightstand so that I look busy before I tell whoever it is to come in. Hazel enters, carrying two mugs of what she knows is my favorite- pumpkin spice tea. She hands me one of the mugs before sitting down across from me and crossing her legs.

"I heard what happened at lunch today. I would have followed you, but Percy told me not to. From the look of it though, Jason took care of you just fine on his own," she says.

I shrug, taking a sip of tea. "It wasn't a big deal."

She looks up at me sharply and says, "Yes it is. You don't have to lie to me."

"I'm not," I argue. "Dylan's an idiot. I know that. It'll come out of my clothes."

She looks hurt. She opens her mouth, and hesitates. "Look… I know that- I know that I'm not Bianca. But I'm still your sister. I know she was there for you when your parents weren't, and I want to be too. That's what family's supposed to do for each other, right? You were there for me when my mom...you know."

Shit. Well now I feel terrible.

Bianca pretty much raised me. After our mom died, our dad just sort of checked out. I was ten at the time. She was only twelve, but she looked out for me. She was the only to look out for me in a world full of people more than willing to just throw me aside. She was safety and stability, and then she was gone.

I've only known Hazel for about a year. Already though, she's gotten through my defenses better than anyone else. It's not that I don't trust her; I don't want to burden her. Hazel is what's good in the world. If people were colors, Hazel would be yellow. Like sunflowers, and those happy face stickers, and everything light and bright and beautiful. Like the sun, making everything else around it grow. She always sees the good in everyone; always sees the good in me.

But there's something dark in me, too. And she doesn't deserve to deal with that.

I set my mug down on my nightstand and lean forward to kiss her on the forehead.

"Stop," I say. "Don't- don't do that. You guys are both my sisters, and I love both of you. And I do trust you."

She looks at me strangely. Maybe because I referred to Bianca in the present tense. Anything else would feel dishonest. She doesn't acknowledge it.

"If you do trust me… Can I ask you something?"

This takes me by surprise, but I nod. I figure she's going to ask about my eating habits.

But she doesn't.

"Are you- please don't take this the wrong way, I don't mean this in a mean way- but… are you gay?"

This really takes me by surprise. I mean, she's not wrong. But I don't know where she got it from. Pretty much the whole school likes to call me homophobic slurs, but I don't think she would take any of that seriously.

"I- Uh- Why would you think that?" I stumble over the words and feel myself grow red in the face.

She examines me carefully. "It's just- I don't know, sometimes it's- sometimes the way you look at Percy…"

Oh.

Yeah that.

I didn't realize I was that obvious.

"And once I noticed that I started paying more attention. You don't notice girls the way other boys do. I mean, I've never met a guy, who likes Game of Thrones, who isn't head over heels for Daenerys," she smiles.

She does have a point.

If she had asked me that question a year ago, or even a few months ago, I would have been frantic to deny it; I hated myself for it. But after doing my research, I've realized I have better things to hate myself over. Who I feel attracted to isn't something I can help. I just never really thought about coming out, because I don't see the point. No one wants to date me, gay or straight.

"Are you there?" Hazel waves her hand in front of my face.

"Oh yeah. Sorry. Um- yeah. Yes. I am," I say embarrassed.

For a minute, she looks surprised. I don't think she thought I would tell her. But then she smiles, and hugs me. She's the only person I know who can actually get away with doing that.

"Well, I think it goes without saying, but just in case: it doesn't matter to me. We're siblings, no matter what. Well," she pauses. "As long as we get one thing straight,"

Ironic word choice.

"What?" I ask.

"Jon snow is mine," she says with a mischievous smile. At that, she takes her leave.

"Goodnight, Nico."

When she's gone, I finish off my tea before turning out the lights. Even with the tea warming my insides, I'm shivering. I curl up again under the covers, still wearing Jason's jacket, which I put back on after I showered. I couldn't really tell you why. But it smells good.

I drift off to the lullaby of the rain and wind against the window.

At lunch the next day, Jason is already sitting at my usual table by the time I get to it. He's eating the school lunch from a tray as if he intends on staying there.

He looks up at me. "Nico!" he says, overenthusiastically. I swear, he acts like a puppy dog.

"Uh, what are you doing here?" I ask. Maybe, after yesterday, I should try to be a bit nicer to him, but, you know.

He taps the seat next to him, beckoning me to sit. I do.

"Everyone's staring at us," I say through gritted teeth, and it's true. It's not every day that someone like Jason is seen with someone like me.

"Yeah, well, at least they're not throwing applesauce. Besides, I wanted to see how you're doing."

"I'm good," I say, without looking at him.

"You're still wearing my jacket," he observes.

"Oh," I blush, and fumble to take it off. " I brought it to bring it back, but you weren't there first period-"

"Keep it," he says. "It's freezing in here, and I've already got one on. As for this morning, I had a- a family situation."

I stare at im for a moment before pulling the jacket back up. He's right; it's freezing.

I wonder what he means by "family situation", but I don't think it's my place to ask. At least one of us knows when to mind his own business.

There's an awkward silence before he asks me if I'm going to eat anything. I say no and leave it at that; I don't owe him an explanation.

He narrows his eyes on me but leaves the topic alone. "There's something I wanted to tell you."

Um. "What?"

"You're probably wondering why I haven't left you alone since…" he trails off.

"I''m not so much curious as annoyed," I snap.

He looks taken aback. "Oh, uh- I- well- just-"

I raise my eyebrows at him.

"I just know what you're going through, okay? I mean, I've not like, personally experienced it or anything, but my- I know people who have."

Does he think that means he knows me? He doesn't know anything. To be honest, I'm kind of insulted he thinks he can group us all together.

He continues. "My best friend, Piper- you know Piper, right? Mclean. She has english with us. She used to, you know, cut herself. Sometimes she'd burn herself too, like with a lighter. Back before she was with her girlfriend Reyna, and she was trying to figure out her sexuality. It was hard enough for me to see her like that, and scary. I guess I can't quite understand how hard it was for her. But I do know that nobody deserves to feel that way."

"While I appreciate the thought," I say sarcastically, "you don't know anything about the way I feel. I'm sorry she went through that, and everything, but it has nothing to do with me. I'm not going through a sexuality crisis. She's nothing like me."

I have to take a deep breath after I finish. I think that's the most I've ever said to him.

He takes a while figuring out what he wants to say next.

As he does, I watch him. The more I do, the more confused I get. There's a part of me that feels like I know him, but when I try to rationalize that feeling, it doesn't make any sense. I still feel like I can't figure him out. Or maybe I can and I don't want to accept it because when I really see him I don't see what I thought I would see. Seeing him deep in thought, if only for a few second, tells me more about him. When people are preoccupied with their thoughts, they don't have time to be anything but honest. The more I see of Jason, the more I see that he is good and pure. In that way, he reminds me of Hazel. Only, if he were a color, he'd be blue. The color of his eyes. His blue is peaceful and calm, and vast like the sky, with something lurking more beneath, like the sea. But he's sincere. Even when I'm looking at him in an honest moment, he's not any different from any other time.

"Piper's biggest issue wasn't that she's gay. It's that she felt alone. And it hurt. She had all of these things going on inside of her, and she needed some way to express them. She felt like she couldn't talk to anybody. She couldn't ask for help. So she expressed it all on her own skin."

As he speaks, his eyes piercing through me, I feel an ache begin to grow inside of me. Jason just somehow logically explained what's happening to me. The words tug at my chest, and I get this terrible pang of longing, though I'm not sure what for. When I try to speak, words don't come.

He takes my silence as an opportunity to keep going. "It's not just Piper-"

What?

But he seems to change his mind and never finishes his thought. Instead, he begins again with, "You're right. I don't know what you're going through. But I want you to be able to tell me. To tell someone. So that you don't have to, like, take it all out on yourself and can express it in, you know, a less destructive way."

"You sound like a therapist."

"You sound like you're using sarcasm as a defense mechanism."

"You sound like you need to mind your own fucking business." I get up to leave. I don't need to put up with this.

"Wait," he says. He reaches out to grab my arm but stops at the last second. Instead, he just says, "We don't have to talk about this. I'm sorry. I just want to be friends."

Probably- most definitely- against my better judgment, I sit back down. Mostly because I don't have anywhere else to go.

An awkward silence follows. I'm getting used to these with him.

"I'm Jason. I'm 17 years old and I'm a Cancer."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm telling you about myself. One of the first steps to building a lasting friendship. So as I was saying. I play football and basketball. My favorite subject is math. I'm a dog person. I really like 80s music, though my guilty pleasure is Taylor Swift. I know, I know. Your turn."

"I don't remember agreeing to this."

"Well you can't back out now, not since I shared my deep dark secrets."

For a second I wonder if he has any real deep dark secrets. There must be something. There's always something. A skeleton in the closet.

Not like I care. I can't care, or I might let him care and I'll accidentally start to care that he cares.

"Come on," he pleads. "Your name's Nico, you're… how old?"

"16."

"Zodiac sign?"

"Why would I even know that?"

"Why not?"

"I'm not, like, a sixth grade girl."

"I'm going to ignore that last comment," he says, pretending to look offended. "Hobbies? Sports?"

"Do I look like a play a sport?"

"Well you never know," he says defensively. "So what do you do for fun then?"

"You make it sound as though sports are the default way to have fun."

"Well- No- I- Just answer the question." I can't help but note how much cuter he looks when he's not busy being the star football player and he's just a stuttering mess.

I consider for a moment. "I like to read." God, I must sound so dull to him. I guess no more dull than his obsession with sports seems to me, though.

"Ah! A noble pursuit!"

You know, I kind of had this idea of all popular kids being super composed and cool. I mean, besides Percy. But Jason's ruining that; he's just a huge dork.

"How about school? Favorite class?"

"History."

"Why's that?"

"Um, I mean, it's kind of just like one big story, isn't it? And you learn about a bunch of cool people. And it helps you understand how the world ended up how it is today.

Maybe I got a little carried away with that one.

He studies me carefully again, as if every time I say something he's viewing me in a new light.

"I like it too," he says. "But I can never keep all the dates straight. Dogs or cats?"

"Both. But also neither. They never seem to like me very much."

"Music?"

That's a hard one. I'm not really specific about what I listen to. I just like music that says what I can never find the words for, music that ignites that yearning deep within me. But I can't say that to him, so I settle for, "I dunno, I like a bunch of stuff. The Goo Goo Dolls, Counting Crows, Matchbox 20, The Smiths…"

"Wow, you… you have good taste."

I blush. "Thank you."

"I just like, you know when you hear a good song?" he begins. "And you get this feeling inside you, and it kind of hurts… maybe this is dumb. But it kind of hurts but feels good at the same time. It's like nostalgia."

"Like… yearning? Longing?"

"Yeah!" he says, excited that I know what he's talking about. "It's almost like it's speaking some language you only understand at a subconscious level."

"I just…. I like music that sounds like what it feels like to be alive."

I tremble as I speak, afraid that I'm saying too much. But his eyes light up and a smile breaks out on his face like he knows exactly what I'm talking about. I don't think anyone's ever looked at me like that before. And as nervous as I feel, something inside me starts to feel warm and fuzzy.

And it makes me want to run far, far away. To hide. To get away from this boy, this perfect boy, who will never understand, who will never stay. He can see me, he can really see me, and it feels too real. It's the same reason I don't like to be touched. I can get so disconnected from the rest of the world that things like a simple touch can make me feel disoriented and afraid. And here Jason is, trying to find his way in, trying to make a connection. But he doesn't know that once he does, I won't be able to get him out. The way I can't get Percy out, can't get Bianca out. He can't force me to let him in and make me care and then leave. He can't. But I'll never tell him that my heart is too fragile for broken promises.