“I swear to god, if you finish that sentence with ‘at band camp’ I’m gonna lose my shit.” A small smile that I desperately tried to suppress broke out.
John lightly punched my arm, but since he was the same size as the Jolly Green Giant, it fucking hurt. His eyes danced with humor as I rubbed over what was sure to be a bruise. “Shut up, asshole, and listen to me. What I was going to say was that Elise once broke up with me.”
Tilting my head to the side in misunderstanding, I probably looked like a dog who had just been asked if he wanted to go for a car ride. John and Elise were a modern marvel – at twenty, they seemed like they had the whole world laid out ahead of them.
“Don’t look so shocked.” He stood from his chair and turned it around so that he could lean over the back. I had to chuckle a little because he kind of looked like The Hulk sitting in a chair that was part of a doll’s house. “It was at the beginning of last year. I was at a party and since I’d been training pretty hard all summer, the alcohol hit me real hard. Half-passed-out on a couch at a frat house, some girl sat on my lap, started practically screwing me right there. I was so drunk it took me a minute or two to even realize what the hell was going on, but Elise walked in just as the chick started lifting her shirt, just as I started to come to.”
“No shit.”
“Yeah.” Judging by the tone of his voice, it wasn’t his proudest moment. “She didn’t talk to me for like a week,” he huffed. “Felt more like a month, honestly. I tried to explain to her what had happened, but she wouldn’t hear it. In the end, I got so pissed off; I said some nasty shit. Elise said some nasty shit and we both spent two months away from each other, all over some stupid misunderstanding.”
His story impacted me somewhat, but I was still in the beginning stages of figuring this all out and honestly, anger was easier than being the bigger man here. “Thanks, man. I’ll keep all that in mind. But really, I just need some space.”
The truth was that this hurt ran much deeper than a misunderstanding. Shane denied not only who he was, but who we were – who I was and that was the part I couldn’t deal with.
I stood from my chair, clapped him on the back, and walked toward my small closet. “Thanks, but I think I’m just gonna grab a shower and get some rest.”
Before I could close the door, he had one final thing to say. “Just don’t let whatever happened get in the way. You two are good for each other, even if things aren’t perfect right now, don’t let it fizzle out and die before you can save it.”
I nodded and walked down the narrow hall to the bathroom, never in my wildest dreams imagining that I’d be pushing away the one person who meant the most to me.
Having meant what I said to Dylan, going home was no longer an option. So I didn’t. Unfortunately, since Alex had found me at the motel, staying there an extra night wasn’t an option either. So I slept in my car that first night.
Calling Dylan the first day had proven to be futile; he hadn’t answered a single one of my calls or texts. I shot Reid a quick text letting him know that I’d be out for the night. His response was immediate.
Sure. But we gotta talk when you get home.
I hadn’t been home yet and Dylan had left me exactly thirty-eight hours ago. It was cold and I was getting hungry. I had a few bucks on me, enough to last me through the day. But now that night had rolled out across the sky, the temperature was dropping and I knew I had to go home eventually.
But not for good. I was only going home to grab some clothes and the money I had stashed away so that I could leave. Dad beating up Mom over a mess in the kitchen, me over a lost scholarship and Reid over a late night out was not how I wanted to spend the rest of my life. It’d taken me more than twenty-four hours since Dylan left me to realize that he was where I belonged, not here.
I pulled up to a 7-11 with the intention of draining my measly bank account and grabbing a quick bite to eat. It was past midnight by the time I paid for my Gatorade and roll. As I slid the key into my car door, I felt a cold stillness creep up from behind me. A strong hand fell to my shoulder and twisted me around.
Scott.
“You fucked with my sister?” He shoved me back against the car door.
Just as I started to say something, his hand was clenched tightly around my throat. I couldn’t speak; the air just wouldn’t make its way into my lungs. “Aw, what’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” he mocked before he laughed like a maniac. “Nah, I bet you’ve never had pussy near this mouth. More like cock got your throat, right?” His knee landed in my gut, forcing whatever air I’d had in my lungs out of my mouth in a sharp painful blast.
When he let go of me, I doubled over in pain. His fist met my face as I bent over to wrap my arms around my stomach. “Fucking fag.” His spit landed on the top of my head, dripped down over my ear. “And to think,” he grabbed my collar and pulled my face to within an inch of his, “all this time, I only thought Dylan was the homo. You two were probably fucking like porn stars that summer.”
He landed an upper cut to my jaw and I heard something crack. “Your secret’s out now, queer. So don’t you worry,” his voice was sugary sweet, the kind you’d use if you were talking to a baby, but there was evil hidden beneath it. “You don’t have to tell a single soul about you and your homoboyfriend.” His last word tumbled from his mouth like the worst of curses. “Alex and I took care of that for you.”
He took once last shot, a right hook straight across my face, forcing me to fall to the ground. “Dear old Dad must be so proud of you.” He stood over me, spit on me once more, and jogged away before anyone could see him.
I sat there in the shadows nursing my wounds. I could barely see well enough to drive. My eye was swelling shut and the blood was flowing from my nose.
When I drove past my house, I was glad to see that the lights were out. I parked down the street, not wanting to make any noise by pulling in the driveway.
Sneaking in like I had a million times before, I was lucky everyone was sound asleep. Silently slipping into the bathroom, I was thankful that no one had heard me. Utter disgust filled me as I stared at my bloodied and beaten reflection in the mirror.
I had to sneak into my own freaking house, to clean my wounds from being beaten up because I was gay. And when my father found out, which, according to Scott, it sounded like Alex had already taken care of that, I was bound for worse than a broken nose and a black eye.
The only other option I had wouldn’t pick up his phone. I tried him once more, despite my fear of waking someone up. It went straight to voicemail, didn’t even ring. He’d officially shut me out.
I had nowhere to go.
Quickly, I washed my face and walked across the narrow hall to my room. I sat on the edge of the bed as Reid lay across his, deep asleep and snoring like crazy.
