Work Text:
i. we find love
When Bram saw that there was a comment on his creeksecrets post, he felt his stomach begin to ache. He didn’t know whether to click on it or not. He was scared that it was someone making fun of him, afraid it might be a slur used against him, or something equally as horrible.
Bram leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and asking himself why he’d posted that thing in the first place. It had been sometime last week and he’d been feeling so alone in his head, thinking about his crush and he’d just typed and typed, looking for the right words, editing it until it was perfect. And then before he could chicken out, he posted it to the Tumblr. He rarely even looked at that Tumblr, but posting it there felt a little bit like coming out for real. It felt like if he was able to say that to the world without anyone knowing who he was, then perhaps one day he could tell the people he loved.
He opened his eyes and stared at his post again.
Then he closed the tab and got up from his desk, pacing around the room, hoping his walls would maybe give him some sort of answer. They didn’t.
Bram groaned and walked back over to his computer, opening the Tumblr up, but fear took over and he immediately closed it again and then closed his laptop for good measure.
Sighing, Bram sat on his bed and picked up Frankenstein, thinking maybe he could do his reading assignment for English. It took him five minutes to realize he was holding the book upside down.
He gave in, taking in a deep, shaky breath and opening his laptop once more. He opened a new tab and slowly typed in the URL, taking his time to scroll down the page, eyes not really reading anything until he reached his post. Heart pounding, he squeezed his eyes tight and clicked on the notes.
It turned out to be fine, of course. Better than fine, even. It said, “THIS” and an email: [email protected]. Bram always built these things up in his head.
Knowing this did nothing to calm his stomach, though. This person could be anyone. It could be a creepy adult who stalks high school Tumblrs or an underclassman that thought this would make for a great prank. Or it could just be another gay kid at Creekwood who wanted to talk.
Bram chewed on his lip. He could just not respond. That would be the prudent thing to do. That would be the best way to not get hurt if this person wasn’t genuine. Except Bram understood wanting a friend to talk to about being gay.
So Bram decided to give this person the benefit of the doubt. He was going to be smart about it though. He made himself a new email, running through ideas in his head before settling on something that was associated with his name, but wouldn’t give him away: [email protected]. It would be obvious to someone who knew him well, but there were few people that did, so he didn’t worry too much.
After that, it took him three or four tries to compose an introductory email. He wasn’t really sure what to say to an anonymous person that both started a conversation and didn’t give too much personal information, in case this was some sort of joke. Should he start with “Hi” or was that too informal? Should he be honest about his feelings? What if he shared too much and this person hated him? Or what if he shared too little and this person got bored?
Eventually he found the words he wanted, although he wasn’t completely sure they were the right ones. He sent the email and then tried not to hold his breath.
Hello,
I’m a little nauseated typing this because you could be anybody. That being said, I wanted to reach out, just in case you are another closeted gay kid at Creekwood. In truth, I could use someone to talk to about being gay, someone who understands what it’s like to be gay and in the closet. And, perhaps, it will be easier to talk about this anonymously, with someone who doesn’t know me personally.
I’m hoping that’s what you want, also. And in the spirit of optimism, I guess I’ll try to introduce myself a little:
I’m Blue. No, that’s not my real name, but it should suffice for now. I’m a junior at Creekwood. I realized when you replied to my post that I didn’t share my gender, so in case you were wondering, I am a boy. And I like boys. I’m gay.
Do you know how wonderful it feels to type that? It’s so freeing, knowing that I can tell you I’m gay without worrying about the ramifications. I feel like I could type it a million times and it would never get old.
- Blue
P.S. I’m gay.
P.P.S. It’s still not old.
Bram tapped his fingers on his desk, wondering how long he would have until this person emailed back. He decided to get a start on his Algebra homework to keep his mind occupied.
As it turned out, Bram didn’t have to wait long for a response. He heard the ping from his computer just 20 minutes later and pushed his barely-started homework aside to check his email.
Blue,
I’m gay too. I am just like you, I also like boys. You’re right, that is a fantastic feeling. I’m gay I’m gay I’m gay I’m gay.
I’m really glad you emailed me. It’s good to know that I’m not the only one at Creekwood who is gay and in the closet. And you said you’re a junior? I’m a junior too. I guess that means we might know each other, which is a little scary, but since we’re staying anonymous, I guess I can handle that.
And you know, it’ll be good to have someone to talk to about all this. I’m so tired of being surrounded by freaking straight people, you know? They just don’t understand how frustrating they are sometimes. And I mean both my friends and my family. I love them to pieces, don’t get me wrong, but I feel like they just don’t get it. I feel like they won’t get it. If I tell them that is.
Anyway, since you picked a fake name, I picked one too: I’ve decided to go by Jacques.
- Jacques
ii. we get up
It wasn’t long before Bram started to fall for Jacques. Jacques was carefree and happy and so, so brave. He was such a source of comfort for Bram.
And since Jacques was so lighthearted, it made it easy for Bram to keep the conversation. He could talk about anything and Jacques always had a response. They could talk about serious subjects like when they realized they were gay and then turn around and talk about something completely ridiculous, like an island made completely of Oreos.
That isn’t to say that Bram wasn’t careful: he always took his time composing emails. That was the nice thing about email, he could type and retype and make sure everything was perfect before sending it. That was something Bram wished he could do in real life, but since he couldn’t, at least Jacques got to see the best version of Bram. He’d hoped that maybe Jacques would fall for him too. And it sort of seemed like it was working, if Jacques’ emails were anything to go by.
On this particular day, Bram was thinking about how much Jacques had helped him grow and feel more comfortable in his own skin.
He thought about how Jacques made him feel brave enough to come out to his mom. Maybe it hadn’t been graceful, but he’d come out. Bram had, as usual, been sick to his stomach all through dinner and when his mom questioned him about it with a face full of concern, Bram could do little more than just blurt it out.
His mom had been great about it at first, giving him a hug and telling him she loved him and that nothing had changed. And then she’d gone into Mom mode, giving him a second sex talk (the first had been before high school) and just generally embarrassing him. All in all, it went better than Bram could have even hoped.
And he had Jacques to thank for that. He was going to thank him, in an email, but he couldn’t type when he felt so frazzled. And thinking of Jacques right now, it made his heart beat faster and his palms get sweaty. All he could do was smile and imagine what it would be like if Jacques were right there, next to him. In his head, he pictured Simon Spier as Jacques.
Simon was this kid who sat at his lunch table. He was also the boy Bram had had a crush on for about a year and a half now.
And Jacques was so like him: animated, funny, and just a little bit scattered. Jacques’ emails read the way Simon talked. Really, they could be the same person.
Or maybe that was just what Bram wanted to think. Maybe he was just projecting Simon’s attributes onto Jacques and vice versa because he wanted them to be the same person.
There was no way for Bram to figure that out for sure. Bram was always tongue-tied around Simon. He could never get out more than a quiet “Hi” here and there. He wanted so badly to be able to talk to Simon, but every time he tried, his stomach tied itself into knots and his brain couldn’t make his mouth move. And if Simon so much as looked at him, Bram’s face turned as red as a tomato. Or, well, as red as he could get with his dark complexion.
Bram was pretty sure that Garrett had noticed that Bram never spoke around Simon, although he’d never brought it up. Bram was beyond grateful for that.
Bram wished he could just drop hints to see if Simon picked up on them. Maybe if he mentioned Oreos or Elliott Smith and then gauged his reaction, Bram would be able to tell. The problem was that he had to be able to talk to Simon first, in order to do that. And he just couldn’t.
So he resigned himself to staring at Simon in school, imagining what it would be like if Simon was Jacques, and scouring Jacques’ emails for any clues, feeling hypocritical as he did, since he really didn’t want Jacques to figure out who he was just yet.
Bram was more than a little worried that Jacques would be disappointed to know the real Bram. Bram was pretty sure that Jacques wouldn’t like him as much as he liked Jacques. And if that were true, Bram wasn’t sure he could handle it.
Jacques meant a lot to Bram and them knowing each other in real life would change everything. Bram didn’t want the easy nature of their relationship to change. He wanted Jacques to email him forever.
And at the same time, Bram just wanted to know Jacques, to hold his hand and speak with him instead of just type to him. He just wasn’t ready. He wasn’t sure when he would be ready, or if he every would be.
iii. we fall down
It had all happened so quickly. One minute, Bram was on top of the world, and the next thing he knew, everything came crashing down around him.
Bram had known, without a shadow of a doubt, that Simon was Jacques on the first day back to classes after winter break. When Jacques had said he was suddenly out to the world, and Simon had gotten more than a couple homophobic comments at school, Bram’s earlier suspicions had been confirmed.
Bram wasn’t sure whether knowing was a good thing or a bad thing, at first. It made him almost giddy that his online crush and his real life crush were one and the same. He had wanted to know who Jacques was, and now he knew. When Simon had come by soccer tryouts afterward, Bram had even managed to say a whole word that wasn’t “Hi.” And Simon had smiled at him and it was like Bram’s whole world became a little bit brighter.
But Bram didn’t know if Simon wanted him to know. He knew that Simon had been pushing to get Blue’s number, and that he said he wanted to meet, but Bram didn’t know if all of that still stood. And if Simon wasn’t ready, then Bram didn’t want to upset him further. Not after being somehow unceremoniously outed to the whole school and then having to deal with the consequences of living in a small town in Georgia. So when he emailed Jacques, he was hesitant to share the information.
Bram shouldn’t have been so worried about that. Simon had been eager, it seemed, to hear that Blue had figured it out. So eager that Simon had emailed him back with his own, inaccurate guess. That was what Bram should have been worrying about.
It was bad enough that Simon had guessed incorrectly. Bram had been so upset. Simon didn’t want Bram to be Blue. He wanted someone else. Someone who was white, judging by his comment about blue eyes.
And then when Abby made a comment in English about Simon and a theater kid named Cal Price, Bram understood.
Simon thought Bram was Cal Price. Simon was also most probably dating Cal Price. Or if he wasn’t, then he would be soon. It was perhaps the most soul-crushing news Bram could have possibly received.
Simon would never look at Bram that way.
Earlier in the school year, Bram had emailed Simon, I completely see the appeal of being someone else for the evening (or in general). And Bram really meant it. For instance, in this moment, he really wanted to be Cal. He thought maybe if he were white like Cal, maybe then Simon wouldn’t have passed him over. Or maybe if he was the type of person who could talk to cute boys, just ask them out casually the way Cal could, then Simon would want him. Or maybe if he put out some sort of vibe, something that apparently Cal had, Simon wouldn’t think Bram had a thing for Leah.
In some ways, Bram was angry. Bram was nothing like Cal, and by extension, Blue was nothing like Cal. So how could Simon possibly connect Blue and Cal together? The only thing Bram could think of was the bluegreen in his email address and the blue-green eyes. But that was so superficial, the only thread that connected Cal and Blue, that it was almost laughable. Even if Bram couldn’t laugh at it.
Mostly, Bram was just sad. He’d fallen in love with Simon. And he’d wanted so much for Simon to feel the same way about him.
This was exactly what Bram had been trying to avoid by keeping things anonymous for so long. He was avoiding getting his heart broken exactly in this way.
iv. we give up
Simon had completely moved on. That was the only explanation Bram had for why Simon hadn’t texted or called him.
Bram had tried. He couldn’t walk up to Simon, he wasn’t that confident. He had tried though, buying an Elliott Smith shirt, leaving it on his locker with two notes and his phone number.
So why hadn’t Simon texted him? He said he wanted to keep Blue, that Blue was his best friend. Maybe Simon had really gone on that date with Cal and decided that Cal was better than whatever he and Blue had.
That thought really killed Bram. He hadn’t seen any signs that Simon and Cal were dating, but that didn’t mean anything. Maybe Cal wanted to keep things on the down low and Simon was more than happy to oblige.
Or maybe Cal had seen Simon in that eyeliner that made Bram’s heart stop and they hadn’t been together last week, but they were now.
When Bram had seen Simon at his lunch table wearing that eyeliner, looking nervous and self-conscious, all Bram had wanted to do was reach out to him, tell him he looked so beautiful. But all Bram could do was stare and wish, sadly, that Simon would just text him.
But Simon was too oblivious, too into someone else.
And even with all of that, Bram couldn’t help but be in love with Simon.
Bram wasn’t much for music, he’d even told Simon so, but today, he wanted to listen to sad music. And he wanted to feel close to Simon in some way.
So he grabbed his phone and his headphones and laid down on his carpeted floor, scrolling through the list of sad songs that his cousin Starr had sent him. He would have listened to Elliott Smith, but he wasn’t sure his heart could take it.
He picked one and pressed play, closing his eyes and letting the music wash over him.
You don’t love me anymore
Let’s see how you like this song
Bram could feel the beat of the drum reverberate in his chest, he felt the pain of the artist’s words hit their mark right in the center of his heart.
Maybe it wasn’t fair of Bram to be upset. Simon was busy with rehearsals, maybe he just hadn’t had time to text him yet. But Simon had always had time for Blue, before he knew it wasn’t Cal emailing him. Even during finals, even at their busiest moments, Simon was always emailing Blue. But now Simon was too busy to even text a simple hello?
Bram shook his head. It was no use getting mad.
I see you walking out the door
Wonder why it took you so long
But it was either get mad or beat himself up for not being good enough. Bram hated feeling like he wasn’t enough, but he did. No matter how many perfect test scores he got, or how well he played soccer, it was never enough.
So, of course, it made sense that Bram felt like he wasn’t enough for Simon. And he’d wondered, all through their conversations, why Jacques had stuck around for Blue. Maybe not texting Bram was Simon’s way of telling him he wasn’t sticking around anymore.
Bram felt a tear slide down the side of his face. Why did he still want Simon, even after all of this? Why couldn’t he move on too?
Bram let the tears flow and tried to sink further into the song, hoping that it would stop the flurry of bad thoughts.
It didn’t.
v. we find love
Bram hadn’t given up completely. He’d resigned himself to being in love with Simon regardless of whether Simon loved him back.
So he’d dragged Garrett to the play three times just to watch Simon be amazingly hilarious without saying a single word. Garrett kept his mouth shut, though, didn’t make fun of Bram at all. Bram knew he’d have to figure out a way to thank Garrett for that, later, when he was less preoccupied with his heartbreak.
Bram had been doing something about that, though. He couldn’t turn off his cellphone, but he’d given himself limits on how much he could check his email. Which is how he found himself sitting at his desk, the moon shining in through his window, staring at an email from Simon, time-stamped this morning. Simon wanted to meet. Simon wanted to kiss him.
Bram felt butterflies erupt in his stomach. Simon wasn’t dating Cal. He still wanted Blue.
Bram looked at the time, it was eight. Would Simon even still be at the carnival? He said it was open until nine. Bram sent up a quick prayer and then stood up, quickly, before he could talk himself out of it. He did a quick check in the mirror to make sure he looked okay before grabbing his jacket and running down the stairs.
“Mom! I’m going to the carnival, I’ll be back soon, I promise,” Bram yelled as he ran to the garage.
“What?”
Bram peeked his head back into the living room. “Sorry. I’m going to the carnival by the mall. I won’t be there for too long, but I have to do something important.”
His mom peeked at him over the book she was reading, saw how on edge he was, and gave him a soft smile. “Okay, honey. Don’t speed. Curfew is at ten, stay safe. I love you.”
“Thanks Mom, I love you, too.”
Bram rushed out of the house. He did his best to follow the speed limits, but he was so jumpy, it made it difficult not to drive as fast as possible. He groaned when he hit a red light, he was never going to make it before nine if he got stuck at every stoplight. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, hoping the universe was on his side tonight.
He reached the carnival and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the lights were still on. He checked the time: eight thirty-five. Simon would be here. He wouldn’t leave until there was no hope of Blue showing up. Bram was confident about that.
But the carnival was huge, where would he be? Bram thought for a second and then groaned: the Tilt-a-Whirl. Simon would have waited until the very last moment to go there because why would Blue be there? He hated the Tilt-a-Whirl. But Bram figured Simon would go there as his last-ditch effort.
Bram grabbed his wallet, which he thankfully remembered and made his way to the concession stand.
“Hi! I’d like to buy one ticket please?”
“Uh, you know the carnival is closing in like 20 minutes, right?”
“Yup! I just need one ticket.”
“Okay. That’ll be three dollars.”
“Great,” Bram fished out three bucks and handed it over. “Do you have a map, or could you point me in the direction of the Tilt-a-Whirl?”
“On the left, go all the way down and it’ll be on your right.”
“Thanks.”
Bram took a deep breath and walked as quickly has he could to the ride. When he reached it, he paused for a moment and saw that he’d been right. Simon was sitting on the ride, by himself, his eyes shut, almost like he was sleeping. And he was wearing the Elliott Smith shirt that Bram had bought for him. Bram’s heart was beating a million miles a minute as he made his way over to Simon.
“Can I sit here?”
Simon opened his eyes and looked up at him before loosening the seatbelt to let Bram in. This was a terrible idea, Bram thought as he sat down.
“I like your shirt,” Bram tried.
“Thanks. It’s Elliott Smith.”
“I know.”
And Simon got it. Bram could tell the second Simon looked at him that he was really looking. “It’s you.”
“I know I’m late.”
Bram couldn’t get out anymore as the ride lurched forward. This really was a terrible idea, but seeing Simon’s face in awe, knowing that Simon had spent almost three hours searching for him, that was worth all the terrible ideas in the world.