Rating: PG-13 Original Date of Completion: May 2002
Disclaimer: Don't own em, will one day. Please don't sue me.
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Kris' POV
I had yet to go inside. I lay in the grass staring at the blank sky, gasping for the breath my tears had taken away. How I managed to call Darren and Avery, I'd never figure out. Both of them wound up hanging up on me anyway, since they couldn't understand what I was saying. Hopefully they got enough from me to go check on Kirk. I had thrown up six or seven times now just from thinking about him. I couldn't handle knowing I'd hurt him. If my eyes were functioning in any way, I'd get in the car and look for him. Or maybe I wouldn't. I was afraid. Afraid of what he might say, of how he might look, of hurting him again. There was also something else I was afraid of, and that one I had to face. I was afraid to tell Julie. But there was no way around it. I tried my best to dry my eyes, then with a sigh, got up and walked back to the house.
When I walked in, Julie was nowhere to be found. I walked into the living room and plopped down onto the couch. I buried my head in my hands and tried to think of how to tell Julie. I don't know what I wanted, there was no easy way to say it. Kirk...was in love with me. So much so that he couldn't even bear to be around me. As I thought about that, I remembered his words from earlier. "Kris, please just go away." My stomach throbbed at the thought. He'd said this many times before, but never in that way. Never in the way where I actually thought he meant it. I'd hurt him, I don't blame him for wanting me to go away. But the thought, the thought that I may've actually lost Kirk. I don't even want to think about that right now, I don't need to throw up on the rug. Not as if there's anything left in my stomach as it is.
I'm startled by a hand on my shoulder. I turn around and connect eyes with Julie, whose face is instantly draped (no pun intended) with concern. She sits down next to me on the couch and grabs my hand in hers. As I stare into her eyes, I feel the tears starting again. I choke them back and try to smile at her.
"Kris, baby, what's wrong?" She asks softly, wiping away a tear from my eye.
"It's Kirk," I reply slowly, dropping my gaze to the floor.
"What's wrong with Kirk?"
"He....He..."
I can't say it. I almost feel like I'm betraying Kirk by telling her. He didn't want me to know, I only found out by eavesdropping. I knew there was no way he'd want Julie to know. But I didn't really have a choice. I couldn't just graze over everything, or make up some lame ass story, not with the way he'd walked out. But I don't think I could say it, it hurt too much to think of. To think of Kirk in that much pain, to know I caused it. God, here come the water works again. I hope it's not possible to die from too much crying.
Julie stares at me intently as the tears begin to flow. The sadness in her eyes only adds to my tears. She reaches up and wipes a tear from my eye. She smiles lightly at me, then grasps my hands once more.
"He loves you, doesn't he?" She asks seriously, staring me directly in the eye.
The shock of her question must immediately show in my eyes, as she touches my face softly with her hand. I'm beginning to go short of breath from crying again. It's all I can do to choke out a reply.
Yes..."
She immediately pulls me into her arms. I collapse against her shoulder, and the floodgates open up. She rubs soft circles on my back while whispering "It'll be okay." I find myself thinking this is why she's such a great mother. She just knows how to comfort people, no matter what the problem. She continues to rub my back as she begins to rock me gently. The tears slowly begin to cease as her motions continue. I pull myself from her grasp, and wipe at my eyes. She grabs my hand and kisses it softly. I look at her and try to smile, but I'm sure that went nowhere. She looks at me with concern in her eyes, and once again wipes away a tear. She then pulls away and stares at me, not saying a word. The look on her face is too much for me, so my eyes wander to the fireplace across from us. After a long silence, she takes in a deep breath. I bring my eyes back to hers just as she speaks.
"You love him, don't you?" She asks plainly, staring me in the eye..
"What?" I ask, anger quickly building. "How can you ask me that, Julie?" I say again, getting to my feet and walking to the fireplace.
"I know it's not a simple question, Kris," She replies, standing and walking over to me. "But just ask yourself something. What is it that's making you so upset here?"
Before I even have the chance to think, I find myself snapping back at her. "What the fuck are you talking about? You honestly fucking think I'm in love with Kirk?"
I never raise my voice to Julie, and I'm immediately reminded why as that hurt look comes across her face. I'm really ready to play goalie without equipment on today the way I'm hurting people.
"Do not swear at me, Kris," She says firmly. "All I'm telling you is to ask yourself what's making you so upset. I think you'll find that it's not the fact that Kirk's in love with you, it's something completely different,"
"You honestly think I'm in love with him?" I ask calmly, staring at the family picture that hangs above the mantle.
"It's not what I think, Kris. It's what you think. Ask yourself, are you in love with Kirk?"
The bizarreness of this conversation is starting to get to me. Never in my life did I think I'd hear my wife asking me if I was in love with a man. How could she be so calm about this? She should be screaming, yelling, threatening me, something. Her calmness bothered me deeply. She seemed willing to accept the fact that I could love Kirk. While I, I don't know if I could ever accept that notion. The simple fact she accepted it so easily caused my blood to bubble. But there was something that bothered me more. The fact that I couldn't answer. As I stare at her, I know how much I love her. She's one of the greatest things to ever happen to me. I should be able to take her in my arms and tell her that I don't love him. But I can't. I can't, because I don't know if that's true.
"I don't know," I reply quietly, staring down at the floor.
"I know," She says softly, rubbing my arm. "But I don't think you have to do much thinking to find your answer,"
As I look up at her, she's smiling. I find myself wanting to scream at her again, but thankfully I don't. I just stare at her, past her really, at our shadows dancing on the wall. I hurt inside. My heart was literally pained from everything that had happened. First, I find out my best friend is in love with me, and therefore wants nothing to do with me because it hurts him so badly. Then my wife, the one person who should be telling me how to make things better with Kirk, tells me indirectly that she KNOWS I'm in love with him. I'm glad she knew, because I had no clue. I'd never given thought to the possibility of being gay. I'd never been attracted to a man in my life, so I always thought I wouldn't have to worry about it. But I couldn't say I didn't love Kirk. I couldn't say that the thought of spending my life with him was completely out of the question. I couldn't say that waking up next to his smile wouldn't make me fuzzy inside. And the scariest part is, I couldn't say that the thought of being...intimate with him, repulsed me. But did I love him? That, I just didn't know.
"I'm going to bed," I announce, departing toward the stairs.
I'm unusually cold to her, and I don't mean to be. I know she's just saying what she believes is right, but everything she's saying bothers me. She just seems so at ease with everything, while I'm dying inside trying to figure out what to do. It almost makes me feel like this is something she's been expecting, like she's known for a long time that this would happen. I find myself starting to get angry with her again as I enter our bedroom. 'You have no reason to be angry with her.' I tell myself as I sit down on the bed. 'She's just trying to help.' My anger begins to subside as I strip down to my boxers and slip into bed.
As I lay in the darkness I flashback to that scene in the driveway, Kirk telling me to go away. Each time I replay his words in my head, I feel like I'm punched in the stomach. I'd done that to him. I'd hurt him. I don't think I could ever do it again. But as I lay here in bed, staring at the ceiling, I couldn't say it wouldn't happen. Because I didn't know if I loved him. I didn't know if I could feel for him what he feels for me. All I did know right now, is that the thought of losing him caused pain in every inch of my body. I refused to let him go. I may not love him the way he wants me to, but I love him more than any friend in my life. And I refuse to let this friendship die. Whatever it takes, I have to make things right. I feel a strange sense of comfort come over me as those thoughts cross my mind. I've given up trying to decipher anything tonight, there's too much in my mind. I reach over to the night stand and switch the light off. I flip onto my stomach and cuddle up on my pillow. 'Whatever it takes.' I tell myself. 'Whatever it takes.'
* * *
I woke up early the next morning. That had to have been the worst sleep of my life. If I got more than one consecutive hour of sleep all night, it would be a miracle. I kept reliving last night, not just the things with Kirk, but the conversation with Julie too. I was plagued by everything surrounding this situation. But what else did I expect? Finding out your best friend is in love with you is probably never easy. I can't speak for everyone, this is my first, thank God. Then on top of that, my wife decides to tell me that basically she thinks I'm in love with a man. That still irks me. I curse myself for it, but I'm still angry with her. That whole conversation with her just made me feel...weird. There isn't even a word to describe it. Or if there is, I sure as heck don't know it. And while the anger may be directed at her, I'm smart enough to know she's not really the cause of it. There's one simple thing fueling it, the fact that I still can't answer if I love him or not.
I slip quietly from bed and make my way into the bathroom. I turn on the shower and close the curtain to wait for the water to heat. I stare into the mirror and cringe as I see my face. My eyes had never been more puffy in my life. I think my tear ducts may be permanently swollen. I rub at my eye and hiss at my touch. This is just wonderful, I injured my eyes from crying. What a manly story to tell the guys. 'Oh well.' I thought to myself. Taking ribbing from the guys for puffy eyes was that last thing I cared about right now. The only thing I cared about right now was Kirk, and making things right. I slipped my boxers off, and climbed underneath the shower. The steaming water felt great against my tensed skin. I limited thought in the shower to breakfast, and Colorado. And while they may be my least favorite thing to think about, I find my hatred for Colorado can often overshadow whatever else I'm feeling. Once my shower is over, I dry off and fasten a towel around my waist. I creep quietly back into the bedroom, as not to wake Julie. I get dressed in complete quiet, then sneak downstairs.
As I step into the living room, I see Kirk's jacket and cell phone sitting on the coffee table. It then occurs to me that he'd left all of his stuff here last night. At least that gives me a good excuse for showing up this early in the morning. I slip my jacket on, then grab his things from the coffee table. I pull my car keys from my coat, then make my way out to my car. I give a glance to the backseat, just to make sure my bags are back there. Once they're safely accounted for, I turn the car on and slowly back out of the driveway, honking the horn twice as I always do, to let them know I was leaving.
The drive to Kirk's seems unbearably long. I find myself unable to think of anything but the previous night. Even my Colorado mind trick failed. I had no idea what I'd say to him. I guess I was hoping that once I got there, something would hit me and I'd know what to say. I wouldn't bet money on that though. My guess was we'd wind up just sitting there and staring at each other. Neither one of us is that great with expressing our feelings. But after last night, things were different. There were feelings there neither of us had ever expressed to the other. Those things needed to be said, for both of our sakes. But there was one thing I couldn't say, couldn't let Kirk know until I was absolutely sure. And that was if I loved him or not.
As I pulled up to Kirk's building, I felt relieved as I saw Avery's truck parked. There's no mistaking that truck, a hideous green with more rust than the remnants of Titanic. You'd think that someone who makes 400 grand a year would get a new car first thing. Not Avery, he refused to part with "Old Beulah", as he called the truck. I'll admit, it was kind of funny. He treated that truck like his child. I parked my car on the far side of it, and grabbed Kirk's bag from the backseat. I slung it over my shoulder as I stepped from my car, then reached in and grabbed his jacket and cell phone from the passenger seat. I kicked the tire Avery's truck as I walked up to the building, causing a piece of rust to fall off. I rushed away inconspicuously and up the stairs to Kirk's door.
I stood at the door for five minutes before I got the courage to knock. I was so afraid to see his face, to see him hurt, that every time I tried to knock my hand would shake so bad I'd have to pull it away. Once I finally got the guts to knock, I laughed at myself because Avery opened the door. He smiled brightly at me as he saw me, and motioned me quickly into the house.
"I was just about to call you," He said as I dropped down onto Kirk’s couch. "You two need to talk,"
"I know," I reply simply, staring across the room at a picture of Kirk, Julie, Kennedy and myself sitting on an end table next to an empty beer bottle.
"I'm taking off. You two have at it," Sean explained, grabbing his jacket from where it hung on the back of a kitchen chair.
"Woah, wait a minute. Why are you going?" I ask nervously, walking in front of the door. I know I'd planned on doing it alone, but now the thought of being alone with Kirk kind of scared me. I was so afraid to see him hurt again.
"This is between you two. I'll see you at practice later," He returns, walking toward the door, where I had yet to move from. "Don't try and stop me Drapes, I'll sick Mac on you,"
We both try to keep straight faces, but both of us wind up bursting into laughter. We laugh for a few seconds, before he pats me on the shoulder and says good luck. Reluctantly, I move from the door and back over to the couch. The laughter quickly dissipates and I'm immediately reminded of why I'm here. My hands start twitching as I try to think of what to say. I know this won't be easy, but I keep hoping for some sign to tell me what to do. I begin to chew my fingernails, a habit I kicked 10 years ago, as I wait for Kirk to come from the shower. I'm only about two seconds away from taking off like a scared little kid. 'I should've thought of what to say before I came here.' I scold myself. I shift on the couch and utter my new motto quietly.
Whatever it takes,"
Those words had no sooner left my mouth when Kirk walked into the living room. He wore a smile as he entered the room, but that immediately died as he connected eyes with me. I got that gut punch feeling again. He glances nervously around the room, and I see his mouth curl up in brief anger. Then he turns back to me and freezes. Our eyes are locked on each other, neither of us moving. My mind is racing with what to say. Somehow in the jumbled mess, I pick out the best thing to get us started.
"We need to talk," I say quietly, not sounding like myself.
"Um, okay," Kirk agrees slowly, still frozen in place.
Much like I expected, we stare silently at each other for what feels like an eternity. How he's able to stand there completely still for that long is beyond me. As I stare into his eyes, I see a desperate look in his eyes, almost begging me to start speaking. I can't handle that look. And though I have no idea what to say, I try to start the conversation.
"Kirk...about last night," I start slowly, gazing directly at him. I get that puppy kicking feeling as I see tears budding up in his eyes.
"Kris, I'm sorry," He blurts out quickly, jamming his eyes closed. "You were never meant to hear that,"
"I pretty much figured that," I mutter, looking down at the floor.
"I just felt like I had to say goodbye to Kennedy. I couldn't walk away without her knowing why,"
I look up at him as he speaks and see tears streaming from his tightly sealed eyes. As I take in his words, a wave of emotions shoots through my body. In the wake, I'm left with the one I want least, anger. I was not an angry person, but this situation had sure turned me into one. I replay his words in my mind. "I just felt like I had to say goodbye to Kennedy. I couldn't walk away without her knowing why," What about me? He was just going to walk away and not tell ME why? So for the rest of my life, I'd be thinking I'd done something terrible that cost me my best friend? That's bullshit. I think fleetingly about checking my anger. But before I get the chance to, I hear words coming from my mouth.
"Had to say goodbye to Kennedy?" I ask loudly, anger manipulating my voice. "What about me, Kirk? Were you just never going to tell me why you were never going to speak to me again? You were just going to walk away and leave me thinking I'd done something to make you run away?"
"I don't know," He whispers in reply, looking away from me.
"That's bullshit, Kirk!" I roar, my anger getting the best of me. "How could you do that?"
In an instant, I feel lower than low. Kirk's head shoots up and he stares directly at me. My stomach begins to ache as I see the tears running down his face. I realize then that I'd done what I hadn't wanted to, I'd hurt him again. As I get up from the couch to walk over to him, he steps back.
"Are you happy now?" He cries, shaking me with his words. "Did you just come here to make me feel even worse? Because if you did, you did a bang up fucking job!"
He turns away from me and leans against the wall. As I see his body shaking from tears, I find my own face beginning to leak. Kirk never yelled, at least off the ice. My stomach throbs painfully, and I curse myself. 'You hurt him again, you lowlife son-of-a-bitch! What kind of friend are you?' I walk slowly up to him and put my hand on his shoulder. He tenses immediately and shrugs me away. I catch a glimpse of his tear stained face, and it's then that I know. Through my tears, I feel a smile come to my face. Now I know, I know the answer. And as I stare at him, ravaged with pain, I can't believe it took me this long to figure out. My chin begins to dance with nervousness, and I feel my throat closing up. I clear my throat and try to steady my voice as I prepare to speak words I never thought I would.
"Kirk. I love you,"
TBC
© 2002 Triple X
