The Lake House - Part 3

Noah scoffed in disbelief, a smile spreading across his handsome face as he continued to stare at Theo.

"Shut up" he half laughed, waiting for his younger friend to explain the real reason for his tears, but Theo's expression remained the same.

"I'm not joking" he sniffed, wiping his eyes again, "I'm gay".

A silence fell, and even the nature around them seemed to freeze.

"You're... You're gay?" Noah asked, his eyes now glossing over as though he was recalling all of the years they'd known each other.

Theo nodded and looked down at the empty plates. It was too difficult to watch the result of his admission play out.

"You're not gay" he finally said, shaking his head "you can't be. What about Hannah Ridley?"

Theo shrugged.

"And Amanda Benson?" Noah pressed, smiling again "dude, you're fucking with me" he laughed, pouring more champagne into his mouth. "You had me going for a second there".

"I promise you, I'm not fucking with you, Noah"

"You're not gay!" He half shouted and Theo winced

"Sorry" he added, holding up his hands "but you're not".

Theo felt a wave of anger spread through him. Who was Noah to tell him what he was or wasn't?

"Dude" he spat "I don't know how else to tell you, I'm gay!"

He stole a glance up at Noah and found the young man's eyes burning into him as they glared at each other, Noah pulled his eyes away and looked over the lake, shaking his head as he did.

"You're serious?" He asked, refusing to look back at Theo who could feel tears brewing in his eyes again.

"Yes" he answered sadly.

"Since when?" He pressed, but he still couldn't manage to look at the person who he thought was his best friend since childhood.

"Always, I guess"

Noah scoffed, his head still shaking side to side and a smile spreading across his face again. This time however, the smile wasn't warm and friendly like it so often had been. This smile was carved with bitterness.

"Wow" he hissed "well that's just fucking great".

"Noah I didn't ask for this!" Theo cried, unbothered now that tears were streaming down his cheeks "do you think I want to be like this?"

Noah didn't respond.

"It's not like it's been easy for me!" he continued "how do you think I've felt, all these years, all the conversations about women, all the fake girlfriends, all the..."

"Poor you, Theo!" Noah shouted, causing a flock of birds to shoot off from the tree tops "poor fucking you, dude! It's always about you. Theo, Theo, Theo!"

"What are you talking about?!" He snapped back "do you not think I'd rather be normal?" He sobbed "that I'd rather be like you?"

"I don't know what I think" Noah shrugged, placing his hands on the table and standing up "I need to be alone".

The nineteen-year-old slid his chair out from under the table and began to walk back toward the lake house.

"Noah!" Theo called after him "Noah, please come back!"

But Noah ignored him and disappeared back through the trees.

It had gone worse than he had ever imagined that it would. He thought it had been the right time, he thought that Noah's kindness might have over shone the wicked teachings of his bigoted parents, but he was wrong. Noah was just like them.

Theo drained the flute of champagne and grabbed the bottle, swigging from it as he wiped his eyes and watched the last of the sunset.

That was it. It was over. The friendship that had been built over twelve years had been destroyed with a simple sentence. It felt like somebody had carved his heart out.

How had it started so well, and ended like this? One minute they had been sharing a candlelit dinner, which anybody would be forgiven for thinking was slightly romantic, and the next, Theo was alone, crying and miserable.

Had it been his fault, he wondered. Did he jump too soon? Had Noah's kind gestures lured him into a false sense of security? The questions whirled around his head as he drank more and more from the bottle.

Theo hated himself for being so stupid. Noah's reaction wasn't at all surprising, and yet he confessed to him and expected something different. Why was he so stupid? Why did nothing go right for him?

He was crying again, but it was no longer a silent affair. The young man bawled, his tears blurring the vision of the beautiful lake and the towering trees, and he drank again.

If this was Noah's reaction, Noah, who had been his best and closest friend, how would other people take it? Would everybody hate him when he finally had the courage to tell them? Would they abandon him like Noah had? How would his parents react? Would they disown him? Ridicule him?

He felt like vomiting. If only he'd kept his big mouth shut, the pair of them would still be sitting here, drinking and laughing together as they watched the sunset and Theo secretly longed for him.

Another gulp of champagne and he noticed that the bottle was nearly empty.

"Fuck him!" He spat, draining the rest of the bottle before standing up, his body swaying as he launched the empty glass bottle into the lake.

"FUCK YOU NOAH ELLIOT!" He roared, before slumping onto the grass and reaching for the bag of beer.

A warm breeze whipped around him again as the sun disappeared entirely.

What was the point? He thought to himself. What was the point in returning to the lake house now, where Noah would either ignore him until tomorrow when he'd have to drive them both home in silence, a day earlier than expected, or badger him with more hate-fuelled questions.

"You're not gay" Theo snarled to himself "I AM FUCKING GAY!"

He poured a large mouthful of beer into his mouth, squirming at the taste as it mixed with the champagne.

Or maybe Noah had left already. Maybe he'd gotten into the car and left Theo alone at the lake house. Honestly, he didn't care anymore. It sounded like the best scenario, if he was being truthful. No people to mock and jeer him when they found out about his disgusting secret. No supposed friends to abandon him, no snarky comments, no judgement, just peace.

Why had he been made like this? Had he been made like this? Did something go wrong in his mind as a child, or was he always destined to be a strange little freak?

The tears had dried on the young man's cheeks as he sat on the grass and glared out at the nothingness.

He'd never be able to change. He'd tried it before, forcing himself to act and feel different, but it never worked. He'd always be Theo, Theo the sick freak. Theo the scrawny weirdo. Theo the faggot.

He stood up, chugging the beer can until it was empty and feeling his stomach growl as he reached for another one. His head had become hazy now, as though he was floating.

The pain of his best friend's reaction hadn't dwindled, but it had certainly become more bearable as the young man, who wasn't all that accustomed to alcohol, continued to drink.

He lay back, staring up at the stars, and laughed.

It wasn't a funny laugh, or a laugh that one would have with a friend. It was a pained laugh, one with no emotion other than sorrow behind it. It was a desperate laugh, as though his brain was trying to find a reason to feel happiness again, and it didn't.

"Fine" Theo nodded, swallowing more beer and spilling most of it down his naked chest "fine, Noah".

He fell over onto his side and grabbed the table to help him to his feet. It collapsed, and so did he. The drunk young man tried again, managing to drag himself up this time, and barely able to stay standing.

"Is this what you want Noah?" He asked nobody, holding his arms out and looking up into the inky sky.

"Is this how you want me to feel?" He slammed the can of beer onto the chair and dropped his shorts until he stood naked in the moonlight.

"Getting a good laugh, Noah?" He snarled, spinning around and causing a brutal wave of nausea to hit him.

He leaned forward and vomited violently before standing back up, grabbing his beer and downing another half can.

He hated his body. Look how fucking pathetic it was? His scrawny, skinny physique, his stupid fucking dick that only worked against his will.

"Why didn't you work for Hannah?" He growled at it, "or fucking Amanda?" He slurred.

His eyes fell back to the pier. The same pier that he'd stood on earlier in the day when Noah had pulled him into the lake. The same pier he'd watched the handsome young man walk down wearing nothing but a pair of white underwear. The same pier he'd raced up and down on as a child, squealing with delight as his father chased him into the lake. The same pier he'd gotten many family photos taken on.

He smiled to himself as the memories rushed through his mind, and walked toward it.

He could see his mom and dad, beaming with pride as he took his first jump at eight-years-old.

He could see himself and his father, jumping together when he became more confident.

Then he watched the image change to Noah, he watched the painfully handsome young man stand at the end of the wooden walkway as Theo began to walk naked toward him.

Noah smiled at him, his teeth glistening against the light of the moon.

"Why?" Theo asked his ghost-like friend "why couldn't you just be happy for me?"

Noah didn't answer him. He drifted out across the lake as Theo reached the end of the pier.

He was calling him forward, beckoning him to follow, and Theo dropped the can of beer, hearing it glug as it poured through the gaps in the wood.

His toes hung off the edge, and for the first time in his life, Theo Parker felt free. The pain had left him, the misery, the anger, the sorrow, it felt as though it was all pouring from him, just like the beer pouring from the can, into the deep, black lake.

He stared up at the sky one last time. He had to see it again, just once. It was beautiful, and it made him cry, and he welcomed it, he welcomed the feeling of tears against his skin.

Theo breathed in, and for a moment, he flew.

He could have been a superhero, like he'd always wanted as a child. He could have been Superman, soaring through the air, or Spiderman, jumping from building to building, but he wasn't, he was a naked, unhappy teenager.

A punishing coldness swarmed his naked body, and he became blinded. His ears filled with silence, his nose and mouth became useless and he was no longer a superhero as his body began to sink toward the lake bed.

What had he done? He hadn't wanted this, he didn't want to die.

Theo trashed his arms and legs, but he couldn't move. It felt like his feet had turned to blocks of stone and were dragging him further and further away from life.

He called out to anybody who might listen, and felt his throat fill with water.

The naked young man was panicking now. Was this the end? Was this how he'd die? Naked and helpless.

He felt his feet hit the bottom, his toes curling in the sandy texture, but now matter how much he tried, his stiff body seemed unable to kick back up again.

This was it.

Theo felt his eyes grow heavy and suddenly, the panic left him. He became oddly calm, despite his imminent death, and simply waited for it to take over him.

He didn't want to die. He had never wanted to die, but what could he do now? He was too tired to struggle anymore. He'd struggled long enough.

The young man closed his eyes, perhaps for the last time, and waited.

He was travelling again. Was this what it was like to die? Was he travelling to heaven? Did gay people even go to heaven?

His body felt light, yet heavy at the same time, and then he could hear again and it sounded wet and cold.

He felt pain and burning, and pain again as though a knife was being pushed through his chest. He was in hell. The bible-bashers had been correct all along. He would spend the rest of eternity feeling this terrible pain and being blind, because he could no longer see.

And then he could see. He could see the stars again, and the pain became softer. He could feel a cool breeze and as his sparkling blue eyes adjusted, he could see Noah.

He was on his knees, huddled over him and pushing something. What was he pushing?

Water gushed from Theo's throat and poured over his pale face as Noah hammered on his chest.

It was him. Noah was pushing him!

More and more lake water spilled from his mouth and then he heard a frantic mumble, and felt his naked, soaking body being pulled into the air and held against a warm, muscular frame.

He was alive, and in the arms of the person he loved. Even if Noah didn't love him back.