The Rent Boy (EDITING)

Chapter Thirteen: Wet Jeans-

    Alex didn't answer me. His grip only tightened even more, if that were possible. The temperature felt as if it had dropped and my shivering increased tenfold. Then, just as things couldn't get any shitter, it started raining. I could hear the icy drops hammering down on the concrete around us. Our clothes soaked up the water, making me feel like I was an ice cube melting into a puddle.

    Holding onto Alex wasn't doing anything to help the situation, not any more. I knew I wasn't able to keep him warm now that it was raining. “Come on,” I muttered atop his hair, that was now dripping beads of water down his face, mixing with his tears. I pulled him to his feet, fingers like ice as I tried to find a firm grip on his shaking body.

    I wrapped his arm around my neck and mine around his waist, practically dragging him into the apartment building. I was thankful to be out of the freezing assault of rain. Alex slumped into my side, as if he wanted to collapse on the stairs. “No, come on,” I encouraged, heaving him upright once again. He didn't fight me, but it was a task trying to tackle the flight of stairs with him pretty much leaning all his weight on me.

    I was afraid that if I let go, even only for a second, he'd drop to the floor and I'd struggle to get him back up. “We're almost there,” I said, mainly for myself. I felt like I'd ran a marathon and come first place as we both stumbled through the door to the flat.

     Sparing a quick second to breathe, I dragged us both through the nearest doorway. Luckily, it was the lounge. I flicked the light on as I went, throwing us both down on the sofa. It seemed like everyone else was out on the job tonight, since the place was quiet and empty.

    I turned towards Alex with the intention of getting him to explain everything, but the words were caught in the back of my throat as I took in his appearance. I hadn't noticed outside, the lighting wasn't as revealing as it was in here, but he had dark, purple bruises along his cheek bone. They disappeared beneath the collar of his hoodie. His bottom lip was split, stained with dried blood.

     I didn't want to make a big deal out of it, but I had to see if he'd been hurt anywhere else. So, in a way, it was a good thing that we had gotten completely drenched. It gave me an excuse to say, “Better get you out of those clothes, Alex,” voice low with a slight tremble. I was unsure how to act and how he was going to react. Right now, his face looked vacated like he was in a completely different world, out of his own head. I guess that wouldn't have been such a bad thing.

    I wish I could have left him to his thoughts, but he had to face reality sooner or later. I couldn't help him if he didn't tell me how to. I scanned the room for a reasonably fresh shirt and jeans for myself, before searching for Alex's pile of clothes and finding a similar set. I changed in record time, wanting to focus my full attention on Alex.

    I hated seeing him so...lifeless. He was always full of energy, a happy kid. I'd never seen him this emotionless before. It really worried me, not knowing what had made him this way. I wasn't even sure I wanted to find out. Either way, I was going to.

     I dropped to the floor in front of him, on my knees, hands seeking out his shoes and slipping them off one by one. All the while my eyes searched his face for some sort of reaction, a change in expression. Nothing. I tugged his socks off and placed them by his shoes before standing up.

    I reached out to his hoodie but hesitated. The atmosphere suddenly turned awkward. For me, anyway. It felt as if Alex wasn't really inside the room with me; too occupied with his thoughts to really care what was happening in the here and now.

     Yet still, I hesitated. I didn't know what it was about taking Alex's clothes off that had me so frozen. It was obvious the lad had feelings for me. The other week proved that. Maybe that was why I felt so nervous? Or maybe I was just being stupid. I told myself to man up, just take the damn hoodie off. It was that, or leave the poor kid in a shivering, wet mess.