As I was walking to the liquor store, I saw someone stumble over to the trash bin near it and dump an entire pack of beer cans into it, then stumble back to their seat on the ground. I would've thought he was homeless, except his clothes were moderately clean, and he didn't have anything else with him other than a small hoodie on the ground.
I planned to not disturb the guy, but some dried blood on his hoodie and his face had caught my eye. I looked closer and was shocked to see a familiar face.
"Daniel?" I hoped I was wrong. But when he opened his eyes, I knew it was him. I saw that he recognized me as well. He smiled and closed his eyes again.
I was bewildered. Did he drink the entire pack of beer by himself? It looked - and smelled - like it.
"Daniel... What happened?" I sat down next to him.
His eyes stayed closed and his tired expression turned into a frown. Then he started laughing strangely.
"My mom's suuuch a whore." He kept laughing and stopped suddenly and groaned holding his stomach. Next thing I knew he was puking all over the concrete. When he was done he started crying.
I took a second to process the situation then silently moved next to him and put my arm around his shoulders wrapping him in a hug. He wipes his tears on my shirt but kept crying, gasping for breath. All of a sudden he froze and backed up.
"Sorry." He said to me and stood up, stumbling away. I waited a moment then followed him.
"Wait! Where are you going?" He kept silent and continued to walk, so I quietly followed him.
Oh god where was I going? All I knew was that I had to get away from Ethan because I had embarrassed myself yet again in front of him, and I didn't want it to become a tradition. But he wouldn't stop following me, and I had to find somewhere to go. I saw a park in sight and staggered silently toward one of its graffitied benches near a pond.
After I sat down, I could feel Ethan sit down beside me, and did my best to ignore him. Why did he care about what happened? Nobody cared about what happened to me.
"What?" I responded quickly. He seemed shocked by my sharp response and was slow to respond.
"Just... Tell me what happened."
"I tripped at home." I replied. He sighed. He obviously knew I was lying. He then got up, and I thought he was leaving. I wouldn't blame him. But he walked over to a nearby water fountain and took of his jacket, which revealed his T-shirt, showing a lot tattoos.
He then doused his jacket with water from the fountain and wrung it out, walking back to me. I looked at him, extremely confused, until he rubbed some of the wet part of his jacket on my cheek where I could feel one of my cuts. I flinched back hard.
"Just let me get the blood off." He said, looking concerned. Why is he worried? He doesn't even know me. I nodded. He placed his left hand behind my head and used his right one to wipe away the dried blood from last night with his jacket. His cold fingers sent shivers down my spine that I hoped he didn't notice. His eyes were focused on my cuts while I kept my eyes down on my hands. When he was done, he hung the jacket over the back of the bench and sat facing me.
YOU ARE READING
Sixteen year old Daniel Layman has been bullied since he came out. His best friend and protector Sean, moved to Los Angeles leaving Daniel to fend for himself in Oklahoma City. Along with trying to survive every minute of hell at school, Daniel also...