Running with Lions

by Julian Winters

“A good heart doesn’t need a reason; take care of people the way you’d want them to take care of you,”

Being in love sucks, actually! How does anyone do it?

The sun, warm and bright, beats relentlessly. Emir’s a siren drawing Sebastian in with his face rather than his voice. Sebastian, realizing he’s doomed, snatches his hand away to shake off whatever that was. Emir’s mouth goes soft. Sebastian is hit with the thought of kissing Emir, which is just horrible. It’s difficult to resent someone while wanting something more.

Emir stares at him as if Sebastian’s just had a war flashback. Sebastian doesn’t care. Memories like that are hard to come by. Most of the time, it’s school or relationships or trying not to screw up and get grounded before the next party—and the endless awkwardness. Sebastian is determined to hold on to those memories.

Emir laughs, then licks his dry lips. Sebastian gets stuck on how he’d really like to suck Emir’s lower lip, winces, and leans over to conceal his excitement.

Is that what it’s like having a crush on someone who doesn’t want you back? It steals your light?

“Life goes on after high school, Bastian.” Her hand covers his on the counter. “We all move on.” Sebastian wants to tell her life is impossible to figure out. How does he silence all the huge, monstrous fears biting at his mind?

Alcohol camouflages the scars from his youth, but strength isn’t measured by a guy’s ability to drain a six-pack and not cry.

Maybe someone should create new hashtag: “Life’s complicated, but so is math.”

He should tell her. Hands down, being bisexual is the one part of his life Sebastian hasn’t had to think about. It’s also the one thing he hasn’t had to be great at, not the way he’s had to try to be a good friend, to be a perfectionist on the pitch, to make an impact. It’s scary, coming out to his parents. When it comes to being anything other than straight, it seems there’s a fine-print clause: a penalty for full disclosure when you belong to the LGBTQ community. Sebastian doesn’t get it. It shouldn’t matter if he falls for a girl or boy. Love is supposed to be a happy, comforting emotion, but it always comes with conflict. And being anything but straight means making these huge declarations to the people closest to you. Why is coming out to loved ones like giving a speech in your campaign for President?

Sebastian is overwhelmed by the reality that what ruined his friendship with Emir was a misunderstanding. They’re not mortal enemies, but each have some major self-esteem issues to work through. “I never noticed what people said about me when you were around.” Emir smiles at his knees. “That’s the thing. I spent so much time caring about you, I didn’t know anyone else existed.”

Sebastian follows Emir to the door. In the back of his mind, he’s stuck on how their brief kiss seemed like a wild summer in the heart of an ice storm.

Their hips press together. Emir flushes; the world around them blurs. Sebastian has no idea why he’s leaning back until the light pressure of Emir’s thumb registers. It traces lazy circles on the nape of his neck. Sebastian bites his lip, unsure. And then, Emir’s breath hitches and that’s all it takes. It just happens. This kiss is nothing like the first one. It’s mutual. It’s deliberate. Emir pushes as much as Sebastian pulls. It’s needy. Wet mouths move as if there’s not a second to lose. They’ll never be able to dance around this kiss. Sebastian likes that; he’s also half panicked over it. Emir makes a choked noise. He presses farther in, as if he’s never been kissed this perfectly, and Sebastian’s brain goes offline. Well, no, he has one very clear thought: Emir Shah, Emir Shah, more Emir Shah. With his thumb at Emir’s jaw, Sebastian takes his time. He’s never kissed a boy. Holy shit, Sebastian is kissing his first boy, and it’s Emir Shah.

But being a teenager is one good day of being a superhero, followed by a hundred days of being self-conscious about every little damn thing. It’s one big, selfish moment when you don’t give a shit about other people’s opinions, but you still want your friends to love who you are and what you do.

Emir’s mouth tastes like Dr. Pepper and peanut butter and summer. His kisses taste like the very thing Sebastian didn’t know he was missing.

Acceptance has an amazing effect on people who pretend they don’t need it.

Why do people let things so precious to them turn into dark, unbearable secrets?

Sometimes it’s okay not to be the perfect best friend. Sometimes it’s okay for your friends to take care of you.

“You know it’s not easy to figure out, right? It’s not overnight. And it doesn’t happen just because you’ve been with someone for years. It’s just this feeling. I don’t think love knows how it works.” Hunter’s thumb rubs the crook of Sebastian’s elbow. “What is it, then?” Hunter’s eyes brighten. “If you’re watching Scooby Doo and think of someone because it’s their favorite cartoon. If you’re allergic to flour but still eat someone’s burnt pancakes. Or if you hate the color green but you wear it because it reminds you of a person’s eyes just before you kiss them—well, it might be love.”

And that’s the thing, life is sometimes just another day, and sometimes it’s moment after moment after moment that only paralyzes you if you let it.

The future is only grim because people see it that way. It’s unpredictable. Life is a summer storm of insecure thoughts. There’s an umbrella of precautions to prevent insecurity, but it doesn’t always keep the rain out of your face.