Chapter Text
Five days later, my life is packed into two suitcases, thrown in the back of the car as I’m driving with mum and Willow to the airport. Everything in between the Nationals and now has been blurry, like I know what happened but wasn’t really the one living it.
Just like last time, Yuto was gone when I woke up the next morning. The pain never eases. In fact, it keeps on growing, swallowing me all. I spent that day laying on my bed, in his scent. I watched out the window until the sun sets down, thinking of him. I remember falling asleep, dreaming of a life in which we’re both in the swimming team and he’s not scared and he holds my hand in public and I don’t hurt and neither does he. I could’ve tried texting him, but I just knew he wasn’t going to answer. To say what, anyway? He made it quite clear. What bounds us is not love and whatever it is instead of that only happens when no one can see us.
But when eight o’clock ticked, I receive a text from Adrien, asking me to meet up with him and Tom, the USA track team’s coach, to talk about the contract and, eventually, sign it.
I walked to the address he gave me; a posh coffee shop in the city centre. Adrien was in a suit, like every time I ever see him and Tom, getting up to greet me, was in a pair of jogging and a shirt. I smiled. It’s less formal.
We talked of their exceptions, of what I’ll be willing to give and the way I hope my career goes. They spoke of my future teammates, but I couldn’t quite stay focus. I could see them and hear them, but I couldn’t quite make out the forms and the words. I nodded, smiled, and hoped it was enough.
When he handed me the contract, I read it carefully for twenty minutes if not more. A four-year contract. They sipped on their drinks quietly and I appreciated the silence and patience they were giving me.
Then I signed. I chose my future. I sealed it.
We shook hands, I forced a smile. I got home, head down.
The next days, I painted and slept on repeat. I think mum came to knock at my door sometimes, but I’m not sure. I also started to pack. I did it mechanically, without giving many thoughts into it. What could I possibly need for the next four years, anyway? What a joke. I left my paints and canvas behind, just as my schoolbooks and everything related to it. I mostly took sports clothes and shoes and memories. My grandma’s box, the jewellery box in which the chain Willow gave me came in with. I don’t have many belongings, I realised.
The boys invited themselves over for dinner, last night. To celebrate me, they said. But I couldn’t bring myself to join their joy. Willow was there too, obviously. Hand in hand with Charlie, which reminded me even more of him.
It felt like it was a burial ceremony. They each counted old stories in which a younger version of myself appeared, said how much they’ll miss me and how different it would be. We ate; we drank. I pretended to laugh with them. I forced smiles after smiles.
I wanted to scream that I’m still here. I’ll still come back every chance I get. I will still be there, in a way. I’ll only be a phone call away.
I cried, going to sleep, after that. Is this really a good idea, after all?
But now, my head is against the glass of the car as I see the airport coming into view. Soft music is playing from the radio of mum’s car and the sun shines bright. I hate it. In movies, it’s always raining when the main character is sad. I guess I’m not even the main character of my life. I feel numb.
“Here we are,” Willow says as mum stops the car in the parking lot.
I get down and get my suitcases from the back. Each one in a hand, I walk towards the airport, the two women of my life following my steps.
“Our star is here!” I hear Coach screams as we arrive in the main hall. It’s crowded as hell, but somehow, I spot him and the team, in a corner, and walk to them.
“Stop calling me that,” I scoff.
“I mean, he’s right,” Charlie says.
“I read an article about the new member of the USA’s track team, you know,” Ari says.
He hands me the magazine. I turn a few pages, then I see myself with three medals around my neck, on the podium of sprint race. It reads ‘America’s new favourite sporty boy.’
“They’re fan of you, already,” Greg chuckles.
“More like fan of his curls and angel face,” Lucas retorts.
I give Ari back the paper. “Let’s hope I don’t get harassed because of this sudden popularity,” I roll my eyes.
I glance at my watch. The plane takes off in two hours and I still have all the security checks to pass.
“I think it’s time I go,” I smile.
“Come here, my boy,” Coach engulfs me in a father-like hug. The whole team joins in.
“Don’t let the fame get to your head, once you’re on top, man!”
“Text us.”
“And tell us about the girls out there!”
I hug them and take a step back, to have a proper, last look at them.
“Thank you all, this is all because of you,” I say sincerely.
I turn to Willow.
“You really sealed my fate with that chain, on Christmas,” I chuckle.
She sniffs away tears. “I hoped to,” she hugs me tight. “Don’t you dare going to parties without me!”
She laughs under the tears and so do I. She pulls away and it breaks my heart to see her eyes so red and wet.
“Don’t you dare forget about us,” she speaks in the same voice that once said I was going to be an olympic champion.
“Never,” I stroke her cheek.
I turn to mum.
She has a handful of tissues in one hand, the other going to her eyes with one.
“Do you have everything?” she repeats. “Didn’t you forget anything?”
“No mum, I’m all packed,” I tell her. If I’ve forgotten something, it’s too late anyway.
“Okay, good, then,” she wipes way her tears one last time. “You come home whenever you want, you know that, right?”
“I do,” I smile. I hug her and tell her I love her. She whispers in my ear she does, too. My heart warms.
I pull away and wave at them. “I’ll see you all soon,” I scream, pushing through the crowd of people. They scream something back, but I can’t hear. I look at them one last time, holding myself together. Willow and Charlie are close, Ari, Greg and Lucas griping each other’s shoulders. Coach is patting mum’s back. They’re all looking at me, tears in their eyes. I smile one last time, then I turn away.
The tears fall instantly. I walk in counter courant of others, making my way to my terminal. I sit on a bench before going in, crying ugly. I wipe the tears away angrily, sniffling. I search for tissues I realise I don’t have and, fuck it, mum asked if I had everything.
I know I’m leaving for the better. But sometimes, it’s hard to make the decision that will change your life, especially when it comes with great sacrifices; leaving everything and everyone you’ve ever known behind. The landscape will be different, the track will be different, the people, the team, the house. I’ll be different.
It’s hard to start a new life.
It’s even harder when I see a hand handing me a tissue. I’d recognise this hand anywhere.
“Go away,” I don’t look up. I just take the tissue and wipe my tears.
I don’t want him here. If it wasn’t for how he’s been raised, we could be leaving together. We could hold hands and kiss in public. We could’ve saved a lot more time together. It could’ve hurt much less and it could’ve saved me tears. I could’ve slept better most nights since I met his eyes, back in Ari’s room, so long ago.
But our love is not pretty. It’s not love, anyway, I remind myself. It has never been pretty.
Yuto sits next to me.
“I thought you would be in security checks, already,” he says.
“I’m going, now.”
I take a deep breath, swipe the last tears away and get up. I look down to him. Our eyes meet. I still can’t read his eyes. Never could.
“Ezekiel,” he gets up, too. “Please, stay.”
I gulp. “Would you kiss me now? Even with everyone surrounding us.” I should really leave, before I throw my future away.
He glances down to my lips. I wait for his answer, but it doesn’t come.
“See?” I shrug. My heart is tight in my ribcage. “Why did you even started all of this, when you knew how it’d end? And I’m not talking about me leaving.”
He frowns, locking his gaze with mine. “When you came through the pool’s door, twelve years ago, I felt something I couldn’t understand.” His voice is angry, suddenly. “I went home and talked about it. It was one of the rare time my parents were home.” I see his hands shaking at his side. “They beat the shit out of me, Ezekiel.” My breath catches in my throat. “Because of a simple, curly headed boy. I started hating you from that day on. And you were absolutely everywhere. At Saint-Georges, in the streets, in the park.”
There’s many people walking past us, but I can only see him. I can only see his perfect face and the tears rolling down his pretty cheeks. He’s barely whispering, but he’s the only one I hear in this whole airport.
“Then I came into that room, at Ari’s party, and you were there, again. I saw that as a sign I should make sure you’re mean and hateable and responsible for all my problems. After all, why would my parents beat me for you if you weren’t a horrible person, right?”
I swallow thickly again. My heart is beating fast. “Was I?”
He wipes away his tears. “Yes, and you still are.”
I see stars. I should really go, now. At least before I faint.
“Well, you should be happy I’m leaving, now,” I slowly turn around.
But he grabs my hand, holding my suitcase.
“I’m not,” he’s pleading, now. “I’ve realised you’re a trouble worth the pain.”
“But a trouble to keep hidden?” I say forcefully. I didn’t intend it that way. He’s surprised. “A shame? I won’t be your secret, Yuto. I’m leaving, now.”
I turn around again and his hand slips from my suitcase. I breathe rapidly. Too rapidly.
“Ezekiel!” I hear him screams, but I don’t feel him around me. I feel only the limbs of strangers, hurrying to get on their plane. “Ezekiel, please stay!”
Yuto was once a stranger to me, too. Or was he? I’ve kept my eyes on him since that day at the pool, after all.
I keep on walking. I can’t hear him anymore. I only hear the buzzing in my ears and the thumps of my heart.
I don’t know what he could’ve said to make me stay. Maybe nothing. Maybe three little words. But I know I’ll never get to hear them from him. I can’t blame him. What would I have done, if I were in his shoes? What would I have become, if I had lived the things he did?
I know this was our last goodbyes. It was the last time I’ll ever saw him. Maybe I’ll cross him on the streets, when I come back for Christmas, but I bet he won’t turn around. He’ll forget me, get over me and find his reasons to hate me, to find me a horrible person while I’ll spend my lifetime loving him. I’ll marry someone I don’t love and still dream of him and this book; ‘Men’s right for love.’
I hate this feeling. I hate to have the solid conviction that I’ll be running for him only, now. For him to notice me on TV, in the newspapers and see pictures of me in the subway. Mum, Willow and the team will always be in a corner of my mind, but deep down, as I step foot on the plane taking me to another life, I know I’ll spent the next four years running for the sake of love.