XI.   all the things I did

      How do you go about defining love when you've never felt it? 

How do you define what love is when the one person who was supposed to love you, hurts you? Love is a word that that a million different means yet nobody can ever seem to only have one definition. It's a word that gets used too loosely. Bridger wanted to love. He wanted to tell the world how much he loved but he couldn't, because he didn't even know of what he was feeling was love. 

Crimson stained his broken and bruised skin. It covered his split knuckles, trailed down his temples all the way to his cheeks, and leaked from his cracked lips. He wasn't sure if what he was feeling was heartbreak or relief; relief that he had finally stuck up to his father or heartbreak because he knew any kind of relationship they had was no more. Did they really even have one? They were two empty souls living under the same room, forced to have to see each other and be reminded of what they've lost and seen.

Bridger hated his father but he missed the person he used to be.

A tap on his window is what made Bridger stand up from his bed. His heart rate quickened and he wasted no time running over to his window. He pulled back the curtains and saw Inez on the other side. Her beautiful eyes filled with worry when she saw his state.

With a wounded heart, Bridger opened the window.

"Bridger, what the hell happened?" Inez asked quickly when she climbed into his room. Her eyes trailed to the blood all over him and lingered on his broken knuckles.

"It's nothing," he responded, not willing to tell her the truth.

"Bridge, where the hell have you been?" She breaded out. "Y-You haven't said a word to me and you haven't been answering my calls. A-And now you look like you just beat the shit out of someone!"

"I did."

She blinked in shock. "What? Who?"

"My father." He responded bitterly.

The girl's face fell. "What happened?"

"It's nothing, Nez. I don't want to talk about it." He dismissed and walked closer to her.

There was desperation in her eyes. "Babe, what is going on with you?"

He cupped her face. "What do you mean?"

She rested her hands on his wrists. "You know what I mean. You keep saying there's nothing wrong but I know there is. And don't tell me you haven't been distant because you have been."

"I'm just dealing with some shit right now, Inez. It's nothing to worry about. I'm sorry," Bridger told her and kissed her before she could say anything else.

It was a different kiss. It wasn't their usual loving and gentle kind of kisses. Bridger held her face tightly. Inez was shocked by how forceful he was but she kissed him back, holding his torso. The boy backed her up to his bed, all while still holding her close to him. Their lips never separated.

Inez fell backwards on the bed and Bridger fell on top of him. Her hands weaved through his dark hair and his hands trailed up and down her body. Their teeth clashed together. He kissed her like he needed to prove something to himself. But Inez was so sweet that she wouldn't say anything about it. She loved him. That only made him feel more guilty.

Inez hummed against his mouth and Bridger's lips moved from her lips to her back. She sighed and closed her eyes, taking it all in. This is what she wanted. Him and her. That's what she always wanted. "I love you,  Bridger." She uttered.

Bridger stopped. Suddenly, he wasn't thinking about his girlfriend, the girl who he was supposed to be in love with, He was thinking about that wide eyed, sweet dispositioned, captivating boy who drove him absolutely insane. And it was enough to make Bridger pull away from her and back away, rubbing his face with his hands.

Inez sat up. "Bridger, what's wrong?"

He gripped the roots of his hair and shut his eyes tightly. "Dammit," he muttered. He grabbed a case full of pencils that were on his desk and threw them against the wall. "GOD DAMMIT!" His shout echoed.

Inez flinched and her eyes widened. "Bridger, stop!"

He felt as if his ears were filled with cotton and he hit his fist against the wall behind him. "Fuck!"

Her eyes filled with tears. "Bridger, what's going on?"

Hot tears formed in Bridger's eyes and he let out a shaky breath. "I can't do this."

Inez got up from the bed and quickly walked up to him. "What are you talking about? Bridger, talk to me." She begged.

"I can't!" He shouted without meaning to. "Don't you understand? I can't talk about it. Ever!"

"Why not?" She asked loudly.

"Because things will never be the same after!" He exclaimed and threw his hands up.

The girl stared at him alarmingly. "Bridger, I don't understand?"

"No one does," he laughed. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Nobody will ever understand."

A silence rose. Inez stared at the boy with utter confusion and was slightly scared by how he was acting. Bridger's shoulders lifted up and down from how heavy he was breathing.

Where did things go wrong? Everything was perfect. It was the epitome of a Summer romance movie. Bridger was so happy. He felt like he was on cloud nine when he was with Jesse. He had never felt so happy in his entire life, not even with Inez, and that broke him. He continued to live his life in a lie because he was scared to tell people who he really was. So scared that he ruined the only good thing in his life. 

One heart broke, four hands bloody.

Bridger broke down in tears. It was a loud sob and it made Inez flinch again. He fell to the floor and let the cries go. He hadn't cried in front of somebody in so long. All of the emotions he kept bottled up inside him were now revealing itself. All the things he did just to call him his.

"Bridger, hey," Inez spoke and dropped to her knees by him. She touched his cheek. "Please just tell me."

Bridger lifted his head, revealing his tear streaked face.  "I'm not the person everyone thinks I am."

"What do you mean?" She asked him carefully, not wanting to scare him.

The boy hit the back of his head against the wall. He didn't know how to go about it. It was a secret he swore to never tell anyone. But Inez wasn't just his girlfriend, she was someone he trusted. She never made him believe he couldn't tell her anything.

Which is why breaking her heart hurt so bad. "I. . ."  He started and got choked up again. "I think. . ." He stopped again and felt more tears form. He looked her in the eyes. "Inez, I'm gay."

Inez blinked rapidly, her face slowly falling. The tears that were in her ears slipped down her cheeks. "H-How do you know?" She voiced, not knowing if that was the right question to ask.

His heart yearned for the boy who he knew was at home with his father. The thought of JJ being alone with Luke terrified him. The abuse that went on in the Maybank house wasn't unknown to everyone in the Outer Banks. JJ knew what people knew that his dad hurt him, so he masked it with a charming and goofy personality. He made sure to make himself shine so that people wouldn't know that he was actually dying on the inside. Bridger understood that better than anyone.

How do you go about defining love? What does love mean to you? To Bridger, it meant loving someone so much that you wish you could trade places with them so that they would be safe. It meant loving someone to the point where you hate not being with them. Love means wanting pure and utter happiness for that person. It means loving someone so much that you would die for them, kill for them, and sacrifice yourself for them. That's how Bridger defined love because he was in love. "Because I love someone, Nez." He uttered with a break in his voice. He cried more.

Inez blinked away more tears. She nodded slowly,  very slowly. She looked down at the floor. "It's JJ, isn't it?"

Bridger looked at her again. His eyes widened slightly.  "H-How. . . what?"

She smiled slightly. "It's not a secret the way you look at him, Bridger. I could see it that night at the movie. I just didn't say anything cause I didn't want to be right."

"I'm sorry," he said quietly and shook his head again in disbelief. "I-I tried not to. I really did because I do love you. I didn't want you to find out this way."

Inez nodded her head. "I,  um. . ." She started to say and wiped the tears from her face. She looked at him with a teary smile and cupped his face. "Im proud of you."

He blinked again. "What?"

"Obviously it hurts but. . . what kind of person would I be to not let you be who you are?" 

Bridger let out a shaky sigh. "You're too good for this world, Inez Maddox."

Inez rubbed the top of his hair with her hand. "Don't be afraid to be who you are, Bridger. Because who you are is beautiful. Being gay doesn't change that."

He didn't say anything and instead pulled her into a hug. Inez blinked a couple times in shock but leaned into the hug. Her kindness was one thing Bridger always took for granted. Inez was radiant. She was kind. She never judged anybody despite being friends with judgmental people. But everybody else wasn't as kind as she was, and that's what terrified Bridger then most.

"Thank you." He breathed out and closed his eyes. And Bridger felt the weights that were tied around his ankles were gone and he was able to float to the surface and breath.

Bridger hated Midsummer for a number years of reasons. It was the Kook's biggest event of the Summer. All the Kooks gathered at the Island Club for a night of drinking, dancing, and gossiping about the underclass population that didn't have what they have.  It was like being trapped in a dollhouse with plastic people that mad plastic smiles and minds. None of it was real. They lived in a fantasy world where having a last name was enough to get them by in life. Bridger was tired of living a life where he couldn't be himself just so he could please others.

Be stood in front of bathroom mirror examining himself. He was wearing a dark, almost midnight blue suit with a white undershirt and a striped tie. His hair was gelled neatly and he was wearing black, Italian leather shoes. This is who he was. He was an old money boy who lived a lavish lifestyle surrounded by drunken, out of touch rich people. It's how he always lived. But Bridger was tired of living life that way. He wanted more. He wanted different. 

"Bridger," his father said when he entered his room.  "Where you at? We gotta go."

Bridger walked out of his room and his father paused adjusting the cuffs of his suit. He examined the boy.  "You look nice."

Bridger only nodded. His father had painted bruises on his face and knuckles, the same as he did. Anyone who saw them would immediately think the worse.  Honestly, Bridger wished that someone would notice and say something. Maybe he would finally be able to get away.

"Let's go. We're going to be late." Dawson instructed and exited the room.

Bridger looked to the side at the mirror that was hanging on his wall above his desk. He stared at his reflection and sighed. "Let's get this over with."