He tightened his grip when he realized I noticed him. He cooed, “it’s almost over. Just focus on my hand and my voice, okay?” He was educated on one way of calming a person down that was experiencing a panic attack. You want to distract them so they can’t focus on the thing that triggered the attack in the first place. However, now all I could focus on was the fact he was holding my hand and the implications with that.

I just gazed into his eyes and focused on his grip a bit too much. It will be over soon, I thought. The blond gave me a reassuring smile while still interlocking our fingers. It should have really calmed me down, but it set off a whole new chain of problems. 

And after what felt like hours, the ride was over and Dylan, still holding me, guided me off the ride. I was in a daze. My body felt like jello but yet it tingled every time I took a step. He was silent and diligent about getting ourselves out of the crowd and to some place quiet. There was a bench right at the end of the fair that seemed to do the trick.

The whole time, the beautiful green eyed man never let go. I found myself hazily looking at the back of his head in woe. It was indescribable how I was feeling. I should be grateful and ecstatic about what was happening. He was showing clear compassion and understanding despite my silence and my fear filled gaze. 

But I couldn’t. That layer I was subconsciously withholding from myself felt like a weight dragging me down. 

“...if a guy came up to you and said all these nice things all the time sincerely, I know you’d think it was more than just pure kindness.”

We sat down at the bench, hands locked together. He looked at me again, those emeralds. “Why did you get on Noey? You could have said something.” His jungle eyes roared with sympathy. 

I didn’t say anything. My brain was tripping over itself.

“Don’t lead him on or make him think there’s more to it. That includes going to the fair with him tonight.” 

He continued. “Never do anything for me if it’s not what you’d also want, ok? I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” He cooed. The dim lighting couldn’t take away the beauty of his orbs. I bored my gaze into them, wishing I could escape my thoughts. His smile was so sweet and soft. He didn’t want to lecture me. He only wanted to give me reassurance and comfort.

The layer I was subconsciously withholding from myself bore deeper and deeper.

“What if he wanted more?”

“I-um,” I stuttered, “thank you.” My cheeks were warm and my mind was going a million miles a minute.

Without looking back at me he whispered, “I’ll always be here for you.” 

“Me too.” I murmured back, feeling my tears return.

When he glanced back at me, I felt my heart stop and my eyes widen. They oozed with charisma and magic. “We can go home now if you’d like, I don’t mind.” He held his eyes onto mine with no hidden malice or regret. He meant what he said. He reached out to wipe my tears away.

I couldn’t help but to appreciate him for what he had just done and then for offering for us to leave, but this was too much. The way his eyes twinkled, the way his voice carried, and the way he laughed and smiled truly pulled me away from rational thoughts. 

“He’s finally getting his life together and you show up out of nowhere. I don’t want to see him go down that dark path again.”

Before he could reach my cheeks, I winced away from his grasp.

I didn’t want this. I felt my face get hot from my own tears. The lighting wasn’t great so I hoped it wasn’t obvious. I wanted to conceal my features as much as possible so I dropped my head into my one free shaky hand.

“I just need a minute.” I croaked out quietly but I knew he’d hear me. 

“Take all the time you need.” I heard him sigh. “You scared me back there ya know. I haven’t seen you have an attack since we were kids, but back then I didn’t understand it.” 

He was referring to another time we went on a school trip and we got stuck on an elevator. I think we were like 12 or 13 at the time. I started sobbing at that time as well. He just watched in horror because damn, what is another 12 year old to do? We were the only ones there. But I did recall he also held my hand then too. I had forgotten about it until now. It made my heart ache. 

“I’m sorry if it seemed like I pressured you into getting on with me. I would have understood if you objected. 26 year old me won’t belittle you and call you a pussy for having a legitimate phobia.” He started to rub his thumb into my hand. “We promised to always be honest with each other, so please don’t hold back.” He gently gave my hand a squeeze.

My heart was doing so many hoops and goals that I worried he’d hear it score. He was being so damn nice and reassuring, but all I could do was sit there with tears in my eyes.

Everything about this moment seemed extremely intimate and definitely not something friends would be doing. Stef’s words kept repeating in my head: Don’t lead him on. But was this normal for him? Did he do this with all his friends? Or is it just a comfort thing? I bet it’s because of my attack, nothing more, right? I was desperately attempting to justify what was happening. Was I supposed to reject this? I found so much security at this moment. 

I peeked my head up, looking straight ahead. I felt his gaze on me. My heart was doing backflips and my throat was drier than the desert. 

“Did you want to leave then?” His sweet sensitive voice asked me. 

Had I been playing the fool? 

My mouth quivered, trying to find the courage to say what I wanted to say. Honesty isn’t always easy, but it’s always for the best. That’s what they say. 

“Dylan?” I stammered. 

“Yes Noah?” He gallantly responded.

I released my hand from his, finally, making direct eye contact. My eyes were swollen from the crying while his were beautifully filled with tenderness.

My hands folded together in my lap, fidgeting. 

“You’ve been off since the car ride, did something happen?” I witnessed as his eyes switched to concern like flipping through the channels.

He did notice, huh? Not very slick are you? 

“He’s finally recovering ya know.”

“What if he wanted more?”

“Don’t lead him on or make him think there’s more to it.”

“I’m only putting up precautions because he seems to be totally stoked to have you back.”

“I don’t want to hurt you like you hurt me.” I said it as calmly as I could. My brown eyes were concentrated intently on his features. I desperately needed to watch his body language.

His face contorted into many emotions but confusion was the main one. He cocked his head with a raised brow. “What are you talking about?”

An 8 year-too-late confession. That’s what. 

“Do you remember that time at Hampton beach when you pretended to drown?” My words were still lost on him, but he reluctantly nodded so I could continue. “That was the beginning. The beginning of the end I may add, or a new start if you think about it now.” A pity laugh escaped my frail lips. His face held that puzzled look.

“We started high school after that summer and that’s when our lives truly altered. Your parents divorced, ending our summer getaways with my own family. I struggled with my sexuality throughout the whole course of those years. I had to deal with everyone asking me when I’d get a girlfriend while watching everyone have one, including you. I really secluded myself and focused on my grades. Studying was the only thing that truly distracted my teenage mind from the reality of my life.” I explained the build up. “I thought in my youth it’d be better to just continue this fake life of happiness, denying my feelings, and my own struggles.”

Dylan’s features began to shadow into the night. 

“That night at the party I finally felt a huge shift in my hopes. I was going to leave this place and hopefully find myself where I could escape the judgment of a small town.” I gulped and shakily continued. “But it seemed like reality wanted to punch me in the face.” 

He shifted to face me on the bench, he sat cross legged. “Stef told me what I said,” he interjected. He suddenly downcasted his head.

“The reason it hurt more from you than anyone else wasn’t just because you were my best friend Dyl.” He flicked his attention back onto me. 

“It was also because, back then, in those troublesome yet wonderful adolescent years, I fell in love with you.” I closed my eyes and exhaled. I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. “I don’t want to hurt you like you hurt me. I don’t want to give you the wrong impression of our current relationship. I enjoy just being friends.” I peeled my eyelids back to see an extremely taken aback Dylan.

Both his mouth and eyes were wide. “Oh.” 

“I’m sorry if that’s abrupt to you but it’s been on my mind this whole evening.” I threw my head back and gazed up to see the stars twinkle in the ebony night. Layers upon layers now, sinking deeper and deeper into the depths. 

We sat in silence for a few minutes. I wanted to give him some time to process what had been said, I knew it was a lot to take in. 

“Does that mean you’re not anymore then?” He murmured the question into the night. It was only for a second, but it looked like he was almost disappointed.

Without making eye contact, I replied simply. “Yes, I am not in love with you anymore.” My chest felt heavy.

“How could you have even loved me back then?” It was the first time I sensed anger in his voice. His voice carried a lot of spite and unresolved regrets. 

I tenderly looked him in the eyes. “Love is fickle, but you were more than you give yourself credit for, you’ll see in due time. Sure you weren’t always considerate or kind, but you were always there when I needed you. Even if you didn’t know it.” I smiled at him. 

“But I hurt you Noah. Present me would have never hurt you like that.” He said it almost as if to redeem himself for me. To win back my love, but I ignored it. 

“I know Dyl.” I paused, closing and reopening my tired eyes, “Let the past be the past. Let’s make the present something more memorable, yeah?” My grin deepened. “I missed having my best friend. I’d like us to continue that path if that’s okay with you.”

Stacie’s mother-like voice echoed in my mind: Having the mentality that nothing will change because of the past is just silly.

Yes Stace, change is good. 

His grimace was replaced with a sideways smile. “Of course Noey. Rekindling our friendship has been nothing but amazing.” The way he looked at me, I could tell something was amiss.

“Let’s get back to the fair!” Dylan declared before I could even object or question the uncertainty in his emeralds. He leapt up off the bench and gleefully smiled. “I don’t want this day to turn sour!” 

He was right, I stood up as well and we headed off together. I noticed this time that Dylan kept more of a distance when we walked side by side. No more accidental brushing or the graze of finger tips. If it weren’t for his generous and beautiful smile, I’d think he was intentionally avoiding any misreadable signs.It made me a little sad, but it was brief. 

Once we started playing carnival games and laughing at the trippy house mirrors and funny head cutouts, I completely forgot about my suspicions. We took a bunch of pictures of each other and together. My enjoyment was so high that my face hurt from all the smiles and giggles. It was just like our youth.

Even when we ate our crappy subpar food, we still made the best out of it. Turkey legs were never really our thing, but we were starving so we made do. Dylan finished before me and suggested we head towards the ride section. We’d be riding rides much more tame than the damn ferris wheel.