Wrath (Sinful Secrets 4)

I think that I’m feeling for YOU.

I know. It can’t be real, at least I don’t think so. We’re stepbrothers. But you’re gay so…I dunno.

Of course, I’m in the closet. But- you seem like someone anyone could like. Maybe I came out to you?

Did I?

Did you let me in your bed- and if you did- did you hold me the way I dream about?

It’s embarrassing to even write this shit down.

I feel like…a girl. And- that’s sexist. So yep, I’m a sexist asshole, too.

What I’m trying to say is this- When I wake up, I wake up wanting you to hold me. Miller with the freckles and the tired, blue eyes. Miller with those lips. Goddamn. You’re so beautiful. I could look at you all day, and I do. (Thank you Snapchat and Instagram).

That’s why I’m worried, too. You seem a little different lately. All your snaps are you walking the campus sidewalks looking hot (both over-heated hot and actually hot) and dog tired. Sometimes you stick out your tongue or tip your head back like you’re trying to look cool, but you look tired. I wish I knew you outside my weird, twisted fantasies so I would know if you are tired.

I wish I could hold you when you sleep.

I’m not a girl- but I am kind of in love with you.

If it’s not real, I hope it fades. Because I don’t think about anything but football and you.

It feels right, though. You make me feel things, Miller. Even if you are only my stepbrother. Sleep for me.

Ezra

August 19, 2019

Dear Miller,

I did something crazy today. I know- you’re so surprised. Not Ezra Masters, the guy who had his brain fried, spent a month locked in a closet, then got diagnosed by real professionals with all different types of mental illness.

But yeah, man.

This guy…went down to Auburn.

I sort of know your schedule because you snap so much. Since you snap a lot in math when your teacher dresses like the Auburn Tiger, I knew the time and date for that class, and I guessed the building based on Auburn’s campus map. I waited outside, and dude- you came out.

You were there, and I was there, and Miller- my whole body flushed like I got hit with a shot of adrenaline. It was so strong, I felt like I might fall over. My head buzzed. My face was red hot. I felt like I might start crying.

I was so freaked out, I pretty much ran back to the bus and went straight back to T-town.

But then I got this wild idea:

As soon as I got back to my dorm room, I called AT&T, my cell phone carrier. It took forever, but I finally spoke with this guy, and I told him about my ECT. How I don’t have my cell phone. I told him I needed to access the old data from it, but I don’t remember any passwords. I asked if I could get a new phone and restore the old one’s data to it. I was worried Mom had taken my phone off her plan, but nope. The number’s technically there. I guess my mom has my phone. Maybe she knows all the things I don’t. I’m not asking her.

The guy on the phone said he thinks he can do that. If I go to an AT&T store here, they could maybe get me a new phone and move my old data to it.

I’ll be honest with you, I don’t really want to do it. Not yet.

I’m 50/50 that I’ll find out all of this is just me losing my grip on reality. Some kind of sick, post-trauma wish fulfillment bullshit.

If it is, Mills, I don’t wanna know.

I love this. Almost every morning now before I wake up, I can almost feel you wrapped around me. Do you know how good that feels?

Everything I need. It’s everything. I’d die to really feel that feeling.

In fairness, I guess I’d die for a lot less. I’ve been wanting to die- intermittently, at least- since Mom found out what happened on the bus. And even more since Alton. I don’t want to be part of a world that hurts people like that.

Do you? Like, fucking seriously. I don’t want to play the game if all the rules are bullshit. I don’t want this all to just be pain.

If that makes me weak, I don’t care.

I’m not weak. I just need someone to hold me. So I- pretend.

I see the new therapist in a few days.

The man from AT&T said he’s going to call me back himself- also in a few days.

I strained my throwing arm just a little. Send it kisses. I’ll kiss all your freckles in my dreams.

Maybe I am actually crazy.

Don’t think I don’t know that.

Do you play cello, Miller? Have you ever played? The last two nights, I dreamed of a cello in the room where you were holding me so fucking snug.