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“I’m sorry.”
The words tumbled out of Avery’s mouth before he even realized what he was saying.
“I’m sorry for being so annoying and stupid. I’m sorry that I’m so overly confident and yet I get everything wrong. I’m sorry that I can’t handle being stupid so I isolate, and I’m sorry that I can’t handle you loving me so I push you away. I don’t care that it never works. I’m scared of your love. I don’t deserve you. I never have and I never will. You would be so much better off with someone else, anyone else.”
Derek looked at Avery, sitting next to him on the couch, waiting for him to finish his rant. Avery’s crying— he’s been crying silently since before he started his apology. His hands are on his face and he’s shaking as he sobs.
“Avery…” Derek’s voice is gentle, yet stern. “You aren’t stupid. You were expected to learn while struggling. Without accommodations. You weren’t taught the way you needed to be.”
“Everyone else I’ve known was taught the same way, and they’re fine! They’re graduating! I’m still stuck here, a week left of senior year, and I don’t think I’ll make it!”
“Avery…”
“I used to be smart. I used to be gifted, even! What happens now? What happens when I drop out?”
“Avery.”
“My only plan after I fail out of school is to kill myself! I’ve got nothing going for me anymore! I—”
“Avery!” Derek stood up, his voice raised slightly. “You were taught that asking for help meant you were stupid, and no one would notice you were struggling until it was too late, and now they treat you like you’re stupid. But I know the truth that you can’t see. You aren’t stupid. You have the potential to graduate, but you’ve spent so long thinking you won’t make it, that you stopped trying. You need to try.”
Avery looked at him, tears running down his face. “I can’t. I can’t do it, Derek. I… I have no idea what to do.”
“Then ask for help. Please. Ask someone to help you with your work. It doesn’t make you stupid.”
Avery looked down at his lap. He didn’t know what to say, how to ask for help. He’d spent so long bottling up his struggles, his emotions, getting angry at people offering to help him, that asking for it seemed impossible.
Derek sighed and sat back down. “Avery, I know you hate getting help. But at this point, you need it.”
“I… I think at this point there’s nothing left for me. You have so much to do, so many friends, so many people to meet… I’m just me. I’m nothing.”
“Avery, you know that’s not true—”
“No, I don’t!” Avery’s voice kept getting louder. “I keep telling myself that you’ll leave me, that everyone will leave me. I tell myself I need to leave you guys before you realize what kind of a person I am and do it yourself, but I can’t. I really, really can’t. Because I feel… happy. And it makes me feel worse. I hate… I hate myself. And I wish you hated me too. This isn’t even a new thing, I’ve felt this way for months, and I’m scared I’ll never get better.”
Derek reached for Avery’s arm, his hand getting slapped away before he could touch him.
“Don’t touch me! I’m disgusting!” Avery’s face was twisted in despair. “I— I… I can’t do this.” He gets up and walks to his room, shutting the door behind him.
Avery knew he’d be over this feeling in an hour anyways. What was the point of burdening his own boyfriend with it? Just to walk out? Pathetic.
A shiny object caught his eye, and he knew what it was without needing to look properly. The razor he’d taken out of an old pencil sharpener. He walked over to his desk and sat down, grabbing the razor and closing his palm. The door creaked open, and he felt a hand on his. “You know you’re not burdening me. I want to help you feel better.” Derek’s voice was soft, warm. It was sickening.
“I’m sorry.”