Felix Ever After(71)

I get into the classroom and scroll through Instagram on my phone, as if I somehow have the power to rewind time if I stare at Insta posts long enough. It’s still early enough that Jill isn’t here yet, but Tyler’s sitting up front, Hazel chatting with Leah. The door opens and closes, and before I’ve even had a chance to look up, Declan’s in front of me.

He’s staring at me, red-eyed. My heart sinks. He saw the post.

He pulls out his phone. He doesn’t look at me as he presses a few buttons. From his screen, upside down, I can see he’s in his contacts. Then on his contact for me—for Lucky. He takes a breath, presses dial.

I close my eyes. My phone starts buzzing in my hand.

I don’t open them, even after I’ve heard the footsteps walking away and the door slamming shut. I take a shaky breath and try to let it out slowly. When I open my eyes again, everyone else is looking from me to the door Declan just went through, eyebrows raised.

I jump from the stool and rush across the room, open the door—look down the hall one way, then see Declan disappearing around the corner of the other. I run after him. “Declan!”

He’s racing down the stairs. I try to jump a few at a time to catch up. “Declan, please—”

Declan suddenly stops so unexpectedly I almost run right into him. He spins around. His eyes are wet. He’s fucking crying.

I don’t know what to say. I open my mouth, shaking my head, waiting for the right words to come out.

“Why?” he says.

“I’m sorry,” I say, but my voice is so soft I’m not sure he’s heard.

“Tell me why.”

I realize I’m gripping my hands together so hard they’re shaking. I wipe them off on my jeans.

“Tell my fucking why!” he yells. His voice echoes in the staircase.

I can barely look at him. “It was supposed to be a prank at first.”

“A prank?” All emotion’s gone from his voice now.

“For revenge. I thought you were the one who put up that gallery of me, and—”

“I didn’t do the fucking gallery.”

“I know. I know that now, since you told me you’d never . . .”

He closes his eyes like it hurts, this reminder that the person he’d been speaking to all along, the person he said he was in love with, was me.

“But even when I realized it wasn’t you, I couldn’t stop talking to you,” I tell him, words coming out fast, desperate to make him understand. “I loved our conversations. It was like you were a different person, and—”

“I’m not a different person.”

“You said you were falling for me,” I say, lowering my voice. “You said you’re in love with me.”

He watches me, not looking away, his brown eyes burning.

“I think I might love you, too,” I tell him.

He swallows, breathing harder. I think he’s trying to stop himself from crying. Trying to get enough of a breath to speak. “Don’t talk to me,” he says. “Don’t even look at me. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

He brushes past me, and I hear his footsteps echoing on the staircase before the door out into the lobby slams.





Twenty-One


Dear Mom,

It’s been a while since we’ve spoken, but I wanted to let you know that my life is shit right now. I’ve lost two people I really care about. They both hate me now. There’s a troll that won’t stop messaging me—no idea who the piece of shit is, but they want me to know that my life is worthless, using you and the fact that you’ve abandoned me as proof. I don’t know. Maybe they’re right. I have 477 emails drafted to you. In every email, I act like we’re having some kind of fun conversation, where I’ve forgiven you and moved on . . . but the truth is, you really fucked me up. You know that, right? You fucked me up by deciding you don’t love me anymore, by leaving me and my dad behind while you went off to start your new life. There’re so many things I’ve wanted the courage to ask you all these years. Why’d you leave? Do you miss me? Do you still love me? I have 477 emails drafted—and this time, I’m going to send this one to you. I don’t know if you’ll answer, but I hope you do.

Your demiboy son,

Felix

I stare at the email for a minute, five minutes, ten minutes—reading and rereading, stopping myself from deleting the whole thing—until, finally, I hit send. My heart tightens in my chest, and I stare at the screen. I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe I just fucking did that. She’s had to see the email by now. Everyone’s always glued to their phones, their laptops. She’s had to see the name Felix Love pop up in her in-box, has made the decision to read my email or send it straight into the trash folder. It’s killing me, not knowing which she’s chosen to do.

When half a day has passed, I think it’s pretty obvious that my mom isn’t going to answer my email. I don’t want to leave my apartment. I don’t even want to leave my room. I curl up in a ball with Captain, lights off and leaving me in the dark, laptop on and playing some reality TV show—but I’m barely paying attention. I have Instagram up and open, shine of the phone’s screen reflecting in Captain’s eyes, looking through both Ezra’s and Declan’s pages to see if they’ve updated, but neither of them has. I gave up on texting Ezra a few days ago now, and when I try calling Declan, I’m immediately sent to voice mail. I get a text a few seconds later.