Yearn by A. Ellis (story books for 5 year olds .txt) 📗

if I tried to leave the car, Dre would try to join me, panic, or fall asleep with a possible concussion.

“Can I ask you something?” Dre mumbled.

“If it means you stay awake with a possible concussion, definitely.” I took his hand and he stared down at where our bodies met in the smallest of touches.

“Why did you hate me back then? Even before the disastrous kiss? You were always annoyed by me.” Dre leaned his head back again, but his thumb continuously caressed the back of my hand.

“Honestly?”

He cracked an eye and gave me a look. “We’re literally stuck in a triangular grove of trees, my car is busted, I’m busted and probably have a concussion. Yeah, I want honesty.”

I smirked. “I see the impact didn’t injure your attitude.”

“You going to talk to me or dance around it until help arrives?” He licked his lip and hissed. “Fuck, that stings like a bitch.”

“Probably gonna need stitches,” I said, stalling.

Dre knew what I was doing and shot me another look.

“I’ll answer you, but can I ask something first?”

He narrowed his eyes but nodded.

“You’ve seemed distant…distracted…lately. Things okay?” I didn’t add in that I was feeling all butt-hurt and pouty about it.

Dre sighed. “Yeah, I’m fine. Cooper and Bev said some things that got me thinking and I’ve just kind of been in my head.” He turned and pinned me with a stare, those deep brown eyes intense even in the dim light. “Your turn.”

I took a deep breath. “I’m beginning to think I never really hated you.”

Dre’s brows shot up.

“Don’t get me wrong, I definitely thought I did. Back then, though, it was more annoyance and jealousy I think—on top of my own immaturity. After you kissed me—which, by the way, I was totally into and likely would have done something stupid had your parents not walked around that corner.”

Dre winced. “You mean when I threw you under the bus and basically accused you of assaulting me just to hide my sexuality from my parents?”

I chuckled. Leaving this ridiculous shit buried was easier, but if bringing it up kept Dre talking, I could deal. “Yeah, that.” I took Dre’s pulse and checked his pupils again before continuing. “After that whole debacle, I think it was just easier to let the mess fester into hate rather than work out the feelings. Besides, I was out of Bellville for good and there was no reason to think we’d ever have to see each other again.”

“What feelings did you not want to work through?” Dre asked.

Not answering for a moment, I tried to gather my thoughts. “I think jealousy was the main one in the beginning.” I paused for a moment. “No, I was annoyed with myself for finding you so damn cute at first. I knew I was leaving Bellville one way or another and I had absolutely no time and no business thinking some flashy little band geek was cute.”

Dre snorted softly. “Damn, I really was such a geek back then.”

Smiling, I pulled his hand to my mouth and pressed a kiss against his still-warm skin. “The jealousy started not long after.” Glancing at Dre, I saw his eyes closed. “Nope. No sleeping during story time. Talk to me.”

“You’re not off the hook, ya know?” Dre muttered.

“You’ll get your story, I swear. But tell me what made you hate me.” I figured we had about fifteen more minutes before our team would find us or I’d need to take the next step in getting help. The car was definitely getting colder. Dre’s condition hadn’t deteriorated, but I wanted him monitored at the hospital.

“Jealousy for sure,” Dre said without missing a beat.

I scoffed. “What could you have seen in the poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks that made you jealous?”

“You were this cool, sporty guy. People looked up to you or at least left you alone. There was this air of mysterious bad boy that followed you everywhere—or at least that’s the way I imagined it. You were out which, back then, was a concept I couldn’t even fathom. To be out would have meant I’d admitted to myself I was gay. But you just made it look so easy. You didn’t have parents who wanted you to burn in hell for liking guys.”

I frowned. “At least you had parents who were present and involved.”

It was Dre’s turn to scoff. “If by present and involved you mean oppressive homophobic assholes who used fear to keep me from being the real me, sure.”

We were quiet for a beat.

Dre started again. “My insecurities got the best of me most of the time. I knew there was no way a guy like Khi Harris could like band and theater geek Andre King.”

“Why?”

Dre shook his head as if to clear the haze of the past, hopefully not the haze of a concussion. “The age difference, the fact that you were out and people still liked you, and you were this drop-dead gorgeous basketball star. And then there was me. Mouthy theater and band geek, and so damn far in the closet I lashed out and hurt others just to keep myself hidden, and I definitely hadn’t grown into my looks back then.”

I gripped his chin, taking a brief assessment of his pupils before pressing a kiss against the uninjured part of his mouth. “Your derogatory comments and attitude were definitely a turn-off and part of what fueled my hatred. It made me so mad that you had so much going for you but you couldn’t be true to yourself—I know now that it wasn’t my place to put qualifiers on the how or when you came out. I do know I hated the way you said such shitty things and spread so many rumors.”

Dre’s shoulders drooped. “I don’t know that you could hate that part of me any more than I did and still do.”

“Hey, you’re not that person anymore. Neither of us are.” I brushed my thumb over his swollen lip. “But make