More Than This: A More Novella Read online

  “We never should’ve gone there.” I folded my arms on the table and dropped my head atop them. “It’s only led to trouble.”

  Iselin drew in a sharp breath. “Maria…”

  “What?” I didn’t bother lifting my head.

  “If you had sex with Jakob… you used condoms, right?”

  I didn’t answer, because I had no answer to that.

  “Shit, Maria… You’re not on the pill, are you?”

  “No.” Oh God no, not anything else to worry about! “Shit. Shit! I have to talk to him. I’ve got to.”

  One possibility was we hadn’t done anything. Just fallen asleep naked. It wasn’t exactly likely, was it?

  Another alternative was I’d willingly had sex with him. With or without a condom, who even knew. That could lead to pregnancies or STDs, both of which I did not want any part of.

  Third possibility was sexual assault. That he’d forced himself on me while I’d been too far gone to protest. But I couldn’t see Jakob doing that.

  Maybe I’d sexually assaulted him?

  “Fuck my life,” I muttered before thumping my forehead against the tabletop.

  “We’ll figure it out. Or you will.” Iselin reached over to pat my shoulder. “Talk to him. Jakob’s nice. He’s definitely not the worst person to be in this dilemma with.”

  “Yeah…” I had to talk to him. But I couldn’t approach him at school, and he hadn’t answered my friend request.

  Nothing could happen until he did that, because I refused to approach him when he was surrounded by his friends—or worse: when he was with that psycho girlfriend of his.

  6

  Reaching Out

  “Are you okay, Maria?”

  I startled so much by my uncle’s question my fork clattered against my plate.

  “Oh, yeah, fine.” Except I wasn’t. I was a nervous wreck.

  I had no appetite, I only kept moving the food around on my plate. Ben, too, seemed to share that sentiment, though I couldn’t begin to understand why he was in a mood.

  Thomas didn’t seem to believe me, but he never pried. He was okay that way. He let us figure things out on our own—let us come to him if we needed something.

  My phone vibrated where it lay screen-down on the table and I grabbed it.

  He accepted my friend request!

  Now all I had to do was type out a message to him.

  Only I didn’t know where to even begin.

  “I’m not hungry.” I pushed away from the table and went to dump the contents of my plate in the rubbish. Then I rinsed it and put it in the dishwasher.

  Once safely up in my room, I sat cross-legged on my bed with my mobile clutched in my hands.

  I’d pressed in on send a message, but had no idea what to write.

  Hi Jakob, thanks for—

  No, that was too stupid.

  Hi, I was wondering if we could meet—

  No, that was stupid too. Maybe he’d think I was interested in him, which I was decidedly not.

  I tried several other messages, but deleted all of them. I was usually good with words, especially written words, but not now. I’d never been so nervous before, so much had never been on the line before.

  Take a deep breath. Gather yourself. And just send off a text. What was the worst that could happen, right?

  Hi Jakob. I was wondering if we could meet up somewhere to talk about Saturday?

  Should I mention something about my blackout?

  No, maybe keep that to myself for now. If he thought I remembered everything, he’d be less likely to lie. If I flat out told him I didn’t remember, he was never going to admit to anything that would look bad on him.

  So I clicked send.

  Now it was all a waiting game.

  And he sure made me wait.

  I tried to do homework, I had a Norwegian essay I needed to write, but I couldn’t concentrate on it. So I tried to do some of the reading required for history and English, but I couldn’t focus on that either.

  Eventually I put on some music and dosed off on my bed.

  It was hours later when my mobile pinged.

  I sat up straight, startled and nervous and anxious.

  My hand shook as I retrieved my mobile and turned it over, clicking into the Messenger app to see the answer Jakob had given me.

  Jakob: Hi Maria. Yeah, sure. When and where?

  How about now? Or soon? BK maybe?

  Jakob: I can be there in 20.

  OK. See you.

  So that was that. He was willing to meet me, willing to talk. Now I only had to face him. Considering I didn’t know anything, it was harder than I thought.

  He might be some guy I’d snogged, fooled around with. He might be some guy I’d willingly had sex with—or he might be some guy who’d taken advantage of me, or I’d taken advantage of him.

  That I couldn’t remember anything drove me mental.

  I had to get a move on though if I didn’t want to be late, so I headed into the bathroom to brush my hair and teeth. Since I’d been sleeping for three hours, I had to freshen up a little bit.

  My clothes stayed the same—jeans and Roar’s hoodie—but I threw on a thick winter jacket once I headed downstairs. Since it was late, it was even colder outside.

  “I’m heading out for a bit!” I called out, not sure if anyone was even around.

  “Okay!” Thomas called back from the living room.

  So off I went.

  It felt a little like I imagined how it would be to walk to your own execution. I’d have answers soon, and I had no idea what they would be.

  Jakob stood outside Burger King when I got there, hands buried in his pockets and huddling in his jacket. He seemed almost scared when he spotted me, which in turn made me scared of what I’d get to learn.

  “Hey.” He stepped up to me, and he tried for a smile, but it fell flat because his expression was all anxious.

  “Hi.” I managed a small, wobbly one before I turned to the door.

  He held it open for me and I slipped past him inside.

  “Are you hungry?”

  I shook my head. “I’ll just get a milkshake.”

  He got a Cola—and he paid for my milkshake too, even if I tried to protest.

  Once we had our cups, we found the most secluded table—and I was relieved when I saw we were alone in that section, that no one was close enough to eavesdrop.

  We sat down opposite each other.

  It was hot in there, so I shrugged out of my jacket.

  He did too. He looked handsome in his loose jeans and form-fitting jumper. His hair was ruffled in a styled kind of way and he was entirely clean-shaven. Handsome, popular Jakob who didn’t seem to handle his popularity all that well because he was all shy and awkward.

  I couldn’t see him hurting me.

  “What is it about Saturday night you want to talk about?” He toyed with his straw, not looking at me.

  “Umm.” How to even begin?

  “Please don’t tell anyone,” he said all of a sudden, startling both me and himself, it seemed.

  I frowned. “Don’t tell anyone what?”

  He blinked, eyes wide and afraid. “No one can know, Maria. Please.”

  No one could know what?

  I tightened my grip around my cardboard cup, still not sure how to phrase myself so I’d get the answer I needed without having to reveal I didn’t remember anything.

  “I know I messed up.” His face flamed red. “I shouldn’t have done it. But— I just want to be normal.”

  My frown deepened. We definitely weren’t on the same page, here, that much I understood. At first I’d thought he actually had sexually assaulted me, and that he was pleading with me not to tell anyone about it, but… sexually assaulting someone didn’t make him normal, did it?

  “I’ve never been able to… with Hedda.” He muttered down to his cup. “I thought… well, I was drunk. And you were there. And we kissed. But I still couldn’t do it.”


  I sat back, lips parting slightly in surprise. “So we didn’t have sex?”

  He met my gaze, startled. “No.” He glanced away, then bad at me again, his eyes widening. “You—you thought we did?”

  I shrugged. “I blacked out. I don’t remember anything.”

  He seemed so afraid, so anxious, that I couldn’t help but believe him. We hadn’t had sex, willing or otherwise. Because he couldn’t do it. Not with me, and not with Hedda.

  There was only one reason I could think about why that was.

  “Jakob, are you gay?”

  7

  The Truth

  He froze and stared down at his hands as if they held all the answers. “You can’t tell anyone, please,” he whispered.

  Now I felt sorry for him.

  “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You don’t have to be ashamed.” I took a sip of my milkshake. “It’s perfectly natural.”

  He shook his head. “My parents won’t like it. And I don’t think my friends would either.”

  “Then they’re not really your friends.”

  He clutched his cup so hard the cardboard was bending in on itself. I wondered how long it would be before his Cola spilled over the edge. “They are the only friends I have.”

  “You can find new ones. People who aren’t judgemental arseholes.”

  He snorted, unbelieving. “I don’t know anyone who’s—” he swallowed, searching for words, “like me.”

  “A lot of people are.” I bent forward a little, finally feeling in control of the situation. I’ve got this! “My family are very open and accepting. My brother has a boyfriend. Two of my cousins are gay. One of my best friends is gay.”

  I felt brave talking about this, and I reached over to grip his hands. “Ben was in the closet once, but he thrived once he came out. Nik could never be in a closet, because he’s too obvious for that. And Andreas, my brother, he never really came out, but when he brought Alex home it was kind of obvious.”

  If I’d known Jakob struggled with his sexuality, I would’ve tried to get to know him beforehand. Tried talking to him, anyway. No one should have to struggle like he did, about who they were, about who they liked. No one should have to pretend they were something they weren’t.

  “You’re lucky then, to have such an open family.” He bowed his head, stared down at my hands covering his. “My parents won’t like it. They have expectations.”

  “Screw their expectations. It’s your life. You have to live it the way you want, or you won’t ever be happy.” I squeezed his hands. “And you deserve to be happy, Jakob. Everyone does.”

  He drew in a shaky breath. “Hedda and I broke up today.”

  “Oh.” I wasn’t about to tell him my opinion on that. I was pretty sure he’d do much better without her. I didn’t know her, but from what I’d seen and from what I’d heard, she wasn’t the easiest person to be around. “Did you tell her why?”

  He shook his head. “She thinks it’s because you and I slept together. I don’t know who started that rumour, who saw us at that party and started blabbing about it.” He met my gaze briefly. “I swear, Maria, it wasn’t me. I don’t know who did it.”

  “It’s okay.” Not that I wouldn’t like to know who had been spreading rumours, but it wasn’t like anything could be done about them. They were out there—nothing could take them back.

  “She kind of hates you,” he murmured.

  I let out a short laugh. “Yeah, I reckoned. But it’s not like I see much of her. We’re in vastly different circles, Hedda and I.”

  “I just feel like I made of mess of your life.”

  “Trust me, I can handle myself.” I finally pulled my hands back and sat down, sipping my milkshake again. “I might like to keep to myself, but I can handle myself if it comes down to it.”

  He smiled wryly. “Yeah, I saw that earlier today.”

  I hoped Hedda didn’t have anymore plans to attack me.

  “You should tell her the truth, though.”

  “I can’t do that.” He squeezed his cup so hard again it dented. “I don’t know.”

  I bit down on my lower lip. “Are you parents… abusive?” Was that why he seemed to be so afraid of them?

  “No.” But he wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  “Jakob—”

  “They’ve got expectations.” Some Cola ran over the edge of his dented cup, trickling down over his fingers. “They expect perfect grades so I can get into the best university. They expect me to choose a prestigious career, so I don’t have to worry about money. They expect me to settle down with a nice girl and give them grandkids.” It all seemed to make him so miserable.

  “If you ask me, that sounds extremely selfish.”

  “What?” He blinked at me.

  “They expect this and expect that, but have they ever asked you what you wanted?” When he mutely shook his head, I leaned forward again. “What do you want, Jakob?”

  “I don’t know.” His gaze flickered uncertainly. “I don’t know.”

  I felt more and more sorry for him. “That they expect you to give them grandchildren… that’s so—” I didn’t even have words for how selfish that was! “They can’t expect anything like that, because it’s your life, it’s your body. What if you’re not made out to be a father? It’s selfish to bring kids into this world who aren’t wanted, that’s what.

  Getting kids for the sole purpose of making someone grandparents is ludicrous. If someone wants to have children, then go for it, but never have children simply because it is expected. Children should grow up with parents who love them. Parents who won’t ever leave them.”

  He stared at me intently now. “Are you speaking from experience?”

  I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. “We were wanted, my brother, and sister, and I. We were. It’s just that—” I didn’t like to talk about this. “My mum died, and it was like my dad died with her. She was his everything. As soon as she was gone, we didn’t really matter anymore, you know?” I hated thinking about that time. “And then he hung himself in our garage. Because he couldn’t live without her. But he had us. Three children—none of us of age—who needed their dad. But he left us, without a single thought to any of us.”

  Jakob bowed his head again, finger tracing the rim of his cup. “I’ve thought about it.” When I cocked my head in confusion, he clarified, “Suicide.”

  Something cold slithered down my spine. “Jakob, no. Suicide’s not the answer.” Maybe suicide was the answer to those who did it—I could understand not wanting to live anymore, but for everyone who were left… “Or maybe I’m being selfish now.” I ran my hands over my face.

  I’d just told him how selfish his parents were for expecting everything of him. If someone really wanted to die, if they didn’t see any reason to live anymore, was it really a selfish act?

  Maybe it was the answer for those who did it. They’d be at peace.

  “I’ve just thought about it. Never done anything.”

  “Do you want to do something?” I hadn’t seen my dad in the garage. It was Christina, my older sister, who’d found him. Still, I could clearly remember being picked up from class that day and taken into the headmaster’s office. A normal day… until I found out my dad had taken his own life.

  I was angry with him, of course I was. I’d been fourteen years old when he died. I’d been angry and bitter and resentful. He’d left us orphaned. We hadn’t had a mum in years, and then suddenly we hadn’t had a dad either.

  I’d never wanted to be as dependant on someone that I couldn’t figure out how to live on if they left me. I would never be that person. I wouldn’t be my dad.

  “Sometime.”

  Jakob’s low voice brought me out of my thoughts.

  “I think about it sometimes. But I never do anything. I’m too scared for that.”

  “What’re you scared of?” I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. If I hadn’t been sitting here having this conversation with him, I nev
er would’ve guessed he struggled with everything he did.

  “Of doing it wrong.”

  I blinked. I’d expected him to say he’d be scared of the pain, or dying in general. Not that he was afraid to botch it up.

  “Jakob…”

  “You can’t tell anyone, Maria. Not this, and not about me being— you know.”

  God, he can’t even say the word. “Gay, Jakob. Gay. It’s a simple enough word, nothing at all wrong with it.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut.

  “Why don’t you think about what you want to do with your life? Not what your parents expect, but what you want to do? When you figure it out, you can tell me.”

  I came from such an open and loving family. That anyone was gay or bisexual or in love with our own cousin wasn’t a problem for any of us. That he struggled so much tugged at my heart.

  Now I knew nothing had happened between us, I didn’t have to obsess over that anymore. I could focus all my attention on Jakob and his issues. That he’d even told me was a huge thing, considering he didn’t know me well enough to know I’d actually keep my word.

  He seemed sad, and lost.

  “I’m sure your parents only want what’s best for you,” I said, slowly, thinking about my choice of words. “Most parents want their children to be successful. But if you tell them what you want, maybe they’ll understand? If they don’t… well, my brother’s boyfriend broke with his parents. We’re his family now, he has no contact with them anymore.”

  Now he seemed startled. “I don’t want to never see my parents again.”

  “Of course not. I’m just saying… You’ve got a choice. That’s all. You don’t have to go to that extreme, obviously, but you can. If they make you miserable…” And he was miserable. “You should do what makes you happy, Jakob.”

  He started to squeeze his cup again, but then brought it to his lips to take a large gulp of Cola instead.