Spoiler alert: I do not sleep.
I lay in bed, hoodie pulled over my face like it's shielding me from the sheer weight of that moment. That conversation.
I try every tactic in the book.Counting backwards from 100.Imagining I'm on a peaceful beach.Scrolling mindlessly through Instagram until I hit a photo of Alex three posts down, half-smiling in a group picture with Lucas and a few other people I don't recognize.
I throw my phone across the bed like it personally offended me.
Let's recap, shall we?
I accused Alex of liking the idea of me liking him.He didn't deny it.He looked at me like I was a particularly interesting puzzle he wasn't sure whether to solve or leave half-finished.And then he said that line:
"I've liked guys before."
Just. Casually. Like we were talking about breakfast cereal or something.
And then he left me standing there, heart doing gymnastics, while he walked away in that stupid loose shirt that clung to his stupid back.
I turn onto my side, then my back, then punch my pillow for dramatic effect. Nothing helps. I'm still thinking about the way his voice dropped a little when he said it. The way he looked so annoyingly calm about it.
So I do the only thing that makes sense in this completely nonsensical situation.
me: u upcamila the menace: always.camila the menace: what flavor of crisis is it tonight?
me: bisexual maybe-flavored. alex torres just said he's liked guys before and then WALKED AWAY.
camila: OH?camila: oh??camila: HOLD ON. I NEED TO SIT UP.
I FaceTime her. No time for typing. This is a Code Gay Emergency.
She picks up in the dark, hair tied up, LED lights glowing purple behind her. "Start from the top."
And I do.
I give her the entire rundown. The lead-up. The "Do I look like I have to be?" The insane amount of sexual tension. The way my voice cracked just a little bit when I asked, and the way Alex didn't even blink.
Camila listens without interrupting once.
When I finally stop talking, she leans back like she's processing a murder case. "Okay. So either he's into you… or he's playing with you."
I sit up. "Why would he play with me?"
"Because some guys are bored. Or emotionally unavailable. Or flirty and dumb. Or all three."
I groan and fall back again.
She sighs, then squints like she's about to say something that might be slightly unhinged. "Listen… if you really wanna know, like know, I can ask Ivy."
I freeze. "…the Ivy?"
"Yep. Ivy Tran. Gossip deity. Has access to people's private VSCOs and knows how to dig through Facebook photo tags from 2011. She's basically a legally gray detective."
"You scare me."
"And yet you called me."
"…Fair."
"She'll find out if he's ever dated a guy. Liked one. Looked at one too long. You want that?"
I hesitate. "Do I?"
Camila's quiet a beat. Then she says, "You want confirmation you're not crazy. That what you're feeling is real. That this thing between you two isn't just in your head."
I nod even though she can't see me. "Okay. Fine. Yes. Tell Ivy."
She grins like she's been waiting. "Consider it done. Operation: Bi Spy is officially live."
I hang up a few minutes later and finally, finally try to sleep.
But my mind's still chewing on the question I didn't get to ask. The one I wish I'd had the guts to spit out after he said what he said.
The one that's echoing now, looping like a song chorus I can't stop hearing:
"Then what do you want from me, Alex?"
I roll over.
Still no answer.