21 | It's Not Weird to Say I Love You

I couldn’t take my eyes off Drake. He looked sweaty and agitated. Dangerous.

Jul 01, 2026

It’s Not Weird to Say I Love You is the story of a fragile new friendship determined to grow stronger in spite of the bullies and beliefs bent on its destruction. A tender, awkward, and at times heart-wrenching tale of first love, buried grief, and found family reminiscent of Eleanor & Park and The Perks of Being a Wallflower, It’s Not Weird… offers an emotional escape from our tech-centered lives to a time when DMs were sent as hand-written notes, scrawled onto napkins and slid into locker vents. When talking outside of school meant talking on the telephone and hoping no one in your house “picked up” and embarrassed you. When trolls had names and faces and sat beside you in home room. When making a connection required the courage to show up, speak up, and open up… just as you are.
New chapters of Annie and Merrick’s story will post every Wednesday morning.
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»Trigger Statement«

Chapter Twenty-One

“Iverson, you mother fucker! What the hell are you doing here?”

Merrick hooked me around the waist to keep me from toppling over. He lowered me onto the ground and then stood up to face Drake, whose entrance had pissed off pretty much everyone.

“Get lost, Drake,” Penelope said. “Merrick was about to kiss Annie. Way to kill the mood.”

“Kiss Annie?” Drake laughed. “You call that a dare? Iverson’s been trying to put it in her for months now. She’s clearly not interested.”

“Unlike some people,” Penelope mumbled under her breath.

“What did you say?” Drake spun around.

“You’re totally obsessed with him. Why don’t you just admit it so you can stop being such a dick all the time?”

Drake lunged at her, and Travis stood up between them. “Cool it, man. Maybe you should go sober up or something.”

“Fuck you, Travis. Fuck all of you.”

“Great,” Penelope said. “We’re all fucked. Are you done now? We were kind of in the middle of something.”

Merrick stood in front of me like a shield. I knew I should have been shielding him from whatever was about to happen. But I couldn’t take my eyes off Drake. He looked sweaty and agitated. Dangerous.

“Right. Iverson’s big dare,” Drake mocked. “I got a better one for you.” He turned to face Merrick and stepped into him.

Merrick’s calf muscle twitched, like he was preparing to run. I wanted him to run. To stop protecting me and start protecting himself.

“But first I think we need to get a few truths out.”

“Oh, so you’re finally going to tell Merrick how you feel about him?”

“Shut the fuck up, Penelope,” Drake spat. “I swear to God, if you don’t shut up…” He swayed on his feet, breathing heavily. He shut his eyes and shook his head as if to clear away whatever thought was slowing down his assault on Merrick.

“Iverson’s a cutter,” he said, his voice jagged, like ice. “He cuts himself because he’s a fucked up mess who can’t deal with life when it gets hard.” Drake brought his hand to his eyes and pressed his fingers into them. His jaw clenched and it looked like he was trying not to cry. But that wasn’t possible.

“And the reason he hasn’t gotten Annie in the sack yet is because he doesn’t want her to see what he really is. A freak.” His voice broke off at the last word and he swallowed hard.

I couldn’t sit still anymore. I had to do something to stop his stupid mouth.

I leaned onto Penelope’s thigh and hoisted myself to my feet. I walked around Merrick and faced him. His eyes were vacant, staring straight ahead into Drake’s. I put my hand on his chest and whispered, “We can go now. Can we just go?”

“Just show her, man,” Drake’s voice was quiet behind me. “I dare you.”

Drake’s eyes were wet with tears. There was no denying it. He was out of his mind.

Merrick started to unbutton his shirt.

“No!” I said, stopping his hands with mine. He pushed them away. “Merrick, don’t,” I pleaded. “Don’t let him get to you. Let’s leave. Please?” I tried to stop his hands again as he slid the shirt over his shoulders and off his arms.

Sarah gasped and Travis swore. But the rest were silent.

Merrick tossed the shirt to Drake who held it at his side. His eyes were welling up even more and they were locked on Merrick’s face. I grabbed Merrick’s t-shirt and pulled him toward me, trying to get him to look at me. To get him to believe I was his friend and wanted to protect him. That the worst was over. People knew his secret. And now he could move on.

But the worst wasn’t over.

“Almost there,” Drake said, his voice low. “Just get it over with.”

“Drake, I think you made your point,” Penelope said softly.

“Ssh!” Drake said, shutting his eyes again. “It’s okay. He’s okay. He’s almost there. He’s got this.”

His voice was warm and disorienting. It made me feel sick and soothed at the same time. And when Merrick moved his hands to the bottom of his t-shirt, I didn’t stop them. Something in Drake’s voice told me I shouldn’t.

Merrick pulled the shirt over his head, and I recoiled instinctively, backing into Drake, who was really crying now. The whole thing felt like a nightmare, featuring all the people in my life doing the exact opposite of what they were supposed to be doing. But the real nightmare was in front of me.

Merrick’s torso was a landscape of trauma. His chest riddled with round, raised marks, perfectly circular, identical and prolific. And along his abdomen were long, twisted, deep-red scars. As if something had burrowed into his skin and then pulled away slowly while putting up a fight. I tasted the bile rising into the back of my throat. I swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

Travis had already left the circle. I watched him walk toward the sunroom and duck behind a hedge. The sound of him vomiting followed. Penelope was in tears and Brittany was hiding her face in Chris’s shoulder. I was still leaning helplessly against Drake. The monster who made this all happen.

I opened my arms and tried to collect Merrick in them, to shield him from everyone’s eyes, but he held me at arm’s length. My stomach ached and my head was spinning and all I wanted to do was go home.

“Now everyone knows the real you,” Drake sniffled behind me. His face was wet. And unreadable. “Good for you, man.”

He walked past us, handing me my dad’s shirt and heading toward the garage. Danielle appeared at the door of the porch, dressed and oblivious. Her hand flew to her mouth as she spotted Merrick on display next to the pool surrounded by people who didn’t deserve to know him.

I felt Merrick step away and I tried to call out for him to stop, but a wave of intense nausea hit me at the worst possible moment. I stumbled out of the circle of lounge chairs and headed for the nearest patch of green. My stomach emptied itself, over and over, and I prayed each heave would be the last so I could pick myself up and go after Merrick.

But the seconds ticked on as the distance between us grew.

The day’s mistakes pooling in the punch-stained grass in front of me.

a close up of a person's feet and feet — Photo by Liana S on Unsplash

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