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The guilt Bram feels over avoiding Simon’s emails has been eating away at his insides for days.
It isn’t that he wants to leave Simon at the mercy of the wolves, now that he’s been outed. Of course that isn’t what Bram wants. When he got back from the holidays and saw that Blue and Jacques’ emails had been posted onto Creeksecrets, for the whole world to see? He felt ill. And when he saw Simon’s name attached to them, he felt even worse.
Because of course Jacques was Simon. Is Simon. It makes so much sense. The hesitancy that he’s seen from Simon in the past couple of years, the way he doesn’t always seem like he’s sitting comfortably in the lunch room with all their friends… Bram gets it. Bram feels it, because he feels like that’s how he looks on the outside every day. Not quite comfortable in his own skin. Not quite wanting anyone to spent too long looking, for fear of what they might notice.
Well, and the longer glances and bigger smiles Simon sent his way around Halloween should’ve been a clear-cut sign. He thought he’d given himself away to the mysterious Jacques, with the mention of the Halloween Oreos and his interest in Game of Thrones. But when no one had approached him and asked him in hushed tones if he wrote those secret emails, it was easy to dismiss Simon’s glances as wishful thinking. As reading into things. So it was easy to push those suspicions aside and to feel safe again. To think he’d gotten away with it.
And he had. Until the world came crashing down.
And now Simon is bearing the brunt of it, without Blue - without himself - to support him. And Bram feels like an utter, complete shitheel.
Bram knows that he should write back to Simon. It’s still strange to him, thinking of them as Bram and Simon instead of Blue and Jacques. God, it was so easy to get lost in that world. He’d gotten so good at compartmentalizing - at letting himself slip into Blue’s skin, thinking of him almost as an entirely new person. A safe person, one who felt loved by someone wonderful even if the rest of the world still felt frightening. Avoiding Simon’s emails isn’t him trying to be a dick; it’s a self-preservation instinct to protect himself from the big, scary world that Simon was forced into. He doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to lose control over his when and how and to whom. Telling his father was scary enough. The thought of telling the whole school? Paralyzing.
So he avoids Simon’s emails. Ignores the account completely. The history of all of Blue and Jacques' - his and Simon’s - conversations. Their love story.
When he heads back to Creekwood High that first day after winter break, Bram isn’t sure what to expect. He spots Simon in the halls before first period, and he can practically feel the uncomfortable anxiety radiating outwards from him. It makes Bram’s heart ache. He knows that he should go over to him and offer warmth, friendship - hell, a comforting hand, even.
But he doesn't. He feels rooted in place. God, he's the worst person. This whole thing started because of Bram’s Creeksecrets confession, and now, somehow, it’s become Simon’s mess. He’s probably the worst person alive for leaving Simon to muddle through the awkwardness alone.
Go over there! He wills himself. Go be his friend, for god's sake!
But he can’t make his feet walk across the hallway. He can’t force his body to do anything but close his locker, turn away, and head into English class.
Yeah, Bram is pretty sure he’s the worst person who’s ever lived.
The words he and Simon sent to each other over the last four months bounce around in his head all through the first half of the day, like some nonstop record that makes his heart ache.
Is it the same as my secret?
I was obsessed with Panic! At The Disco.
Some of the things I’ve told you about are things I’ve never talked about with anyone.
I’m just not ready for my whole world to change.
I don’t think you’re crazy, I think you’re crazy brave.
By the time lunch hits, Bram isn’t sure if he can stand to face everyone in the lunchroom. Of course, no one knows that he’s Blue. He could grab his food and walk right up to everyone, sink down at the table and laugh along with Nick and Abby’s banter and tease Leah and Garrett like nothing had ever happened with him. But could he? Could he really?
Could he really sit across from Simon without his eyes betraying everything?
He catches a glimpse of Simon waiting in line for his lunch and feels nauseous. No. No, he can’t do this.
The library will be a much safer place to eat his lunch today… and likely for the rest of the school year, because Bram is pretty sure he can’t ever face Simon again.
He loiters by the door, pretending to be busy on his phone while he waits for Simon to make it through the lunch line. He may be avoiding Simon, but he doesn’t want to look like he’s avoiding Simon. Bram has never been one to desire the spotlight, so bringing any extra attention to himself by looking like the terrible ass who started avoiding his friend ever since he was outed certainly isn’t something he's aiming for. He’ll just let Simon get his food, walk away, and slide up to grab his own. Then it’s off to the library to start losing himself in the works of Danielle Steele or something. Bram’s pretty sure there are a lot of those. They should last him until graduation, at least.
Bram’s got his lunch and is halfway out of the cafeteria when the loud hip hop music starts. It’s easy to ignore at first, to log it away as background noise of a couple high school idiots. Nothing to do with him at all.
That is, until he hears what they’re saying.
“You like that, don’t you Spier?”
“Ooh yeah, Ethan, Simon likey!”
The voices are high-pitched and mocking, and Bram sees red.
For a second, he doesn’t even realize that his feet have finally gotten up the courage to move. That he’s slammed his lunch tray down on the nearest table, likely spilling some milk all over a group of freshmen girls, and is striding quickly towards the center of the cafeteria.
Towards Simon.
Simon, to his credit, is on his feet. He’s staring up at Spencer and Aaron with a firm, almost defiant look, and Bram feels his heart skip a beat. Even though Simon might not know it, he’s just as crazy brave as he once said that Bram was. Because in that moment, he’s not just standing up for himself - he’s standing up for both of them.
And like hell is Bram going to let Simon stand alone this time. Not anymore.
“I said, do you have something to say to me?” Simon’s voice is strong, but Bram knows him. Through all those emails, every last one, he’s learned that Simon is just as scared as he is. He knows that this has to be killing him inside.
So Bram does the only thing he can think of: he steps up next to Simon and takes his hand.
“You insult Simon, and you insult me too,” Bram says firmly, internally praying that his voice doesn’t shake and give away his own fear. It isn’t some big, sweeping gesture. He doesn’t pull those assholes down off the table and pound them into the ground, much as he’d like to. There’s no crazy verbal dressing-down. He just stands there with his face set, staring up at Spencer and Aaron, his hand wrapped tightly around Simon's.
And it seems to be just enough to make the two bullies falter.
Out of nowhere, Ms. Albright steps up and turns off the music, nodding towards Simon and Bram. “I’ll take it from here,” she assures them, and then turns her fury onto the other two. And it’s only then that Simon actually turns and looks at Bram.
The confused look in Simon’s eyes makes Bram’s stomach do a flip. God damn it.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Simon says quietly, gently pulling his hand out of Bram’s grasp. “But thanks.”
“No,” Bram says, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have waited until lunch to do it.”
Simon’s brow furrows a little, and Bram knows that this is it. It's now or never.
“Can we go outside?” Bram asks, his voice even quieter now. “Can we talk?”
“Sure.”
The walk through the cafeteria, down the hall, and out the front steps takes just a little over two minutes. Bram feels the blood pounding in his ears with every step.
Once they’re outside, Simon turns to look at him. “What was that about?”
Bram’s mouth feels dry. The boldness that overcame him when he saw Simon in trouble in the cafeteria feels as if it’s shriveled up and vanished, and there’s a part of him that wishes he wasn’t here at all. That he’d gone ahead and gone to the library like he planned, retreating back into the safety of his secret. If he’d done that, he wouldn’t now be standing across from Simon Spier after just holding his hand.
Sweet, kind, smart, beautiful Simon Spier.
Damn it.
“I just… I hated the way they were treating you,” Bram says quietly, eyes downcast as if his shoes have all of a sudden become enthralling. “You don’t deserve any of that. None of it. And I wanted to do something.”
“Thanks,” Simon says, and Bram can hear the awkward, confused tones in his voice. He doesn’t blame him. The guy’s been having one hell of a day, and Bram sure isn’t making it any easier on him. “But why’d you do… that?”
Simon's hand twitches.
He can’t speak. He can’t say it. The words are trapped in his throat, struggling out get out. So instead he just lifts his gaze helplessly, and meets Simon’s eyes.
And he sees it. Simon knows.
“You’re Blue?” Simon takes a gentle step forward, and it takes everything Bram has not to up and run. He can’t tell from Simon’s voice whether he’s happy or upset with putting his face to Blue’s words, and god, this is the scariest moment of Bram’s life.
He bites his lip, forehead creasing. “Are you disappointed?”
A grin breaks out over Simon’s face. “No, Bram. I’m not.”
It’s like the world tips on its axis. Like up is sideways and down is backwards and his whole view of his life has shifted, because Simon likes him. Simon likes him. It isn’t Jacques liking Blue, it’s Simon liking him - and suddenly, he feels seen. He isn’t hiding anymore. He’s real, he’s himself, and it’s the best goddamn feeling in the world.
“Cool.” The grin on his own face matches Simon’s. Bram wishes he had some big sweeping declaration to say - something romantic, something to perfectly sum up this huge, momentous discovery. Something that will forever mark this as a turning point in their lives. But he doesn’t have that. Instead, he just repeats, “cool,” again, grinning like a moron.
And then Simon steps in and kisses him.
Simon’s hand is on the back of his neck and he’s clutching the edges of Simon’s jacket, and he feels like he’s melting. Like every moment in his life has built up to this, and it’s even better than he can imagine. Because he’s not just kissing another guy, he’s kissing Simon. His Simon.
And that, really, feels like the only sweeping declaration they need.
the end.