Chapter 2: The Naive Little Voice
Frosting rain; it felt so painful. Droplets attacked him and his surroundings, yet he enjoyed it because it numbed him. It numbed his skin and it numbed his mind. Instead of thinking about the message, about what others now thought, he turned to the rain to let it wash away his worries. For now. By numbing himself momentarily.
It was 7:00pm, the sky already dark gray and misty, heavy with rain and the threat of a storm. Louis stood outside in his back yard, in the center, just standing and allowing the rain to explore him. The grass around him smelled damp and sharp and it calmed him.
Closing his eyes, he visualized the raindrops not on himself, but on Harry. He could picture the boy with droplets sliding down his cheek, resembling tears. His hair sticking to his face; his eyes shining against the dark rain.
Damned thoughts.
Louis turned around, feeling disgusted. Even the rain was against him now. He sighed as he felt it against him, no longer cleaning, but now staining. He headed back into the house, not even starting when he heard distant thunder crash against the sky.
Not bothering to dry off, Louis headed down the hall and into his room, dripping water behind him and wetting the newly put in carpet. He shut his door and locked it, then climbed onto his bed and hugged his knees to his chest, his bed seeming undeniably comfortable. He glanced around his room, feeling both alone yet comforted. To be in familiar surroundings, it made it a little better. It didn't change anything, but Louis felt more safe in his bedroom. More customary and accepted.
The phone began to ring. He refused to answer it. It had been ringing for the past few hours, but he never picked up. His mother was at work; she worked until 9:00pm. Louis had another two hours to enjoy the house to himself, although he really was sick of being homealone at the moment. It made him think too much.
Before the message on his locker had been written, whenever Louis had been home alone, he'd think of Harry, as much as he hated to admit it. He thought of Harry in rather... sexual situations, which made Louis feel disgusted with himself. He fantasized about his best friend. His very male best friend. That was not normal.
At the moment, all Louis could think about was how his two other friends had basically told the whole school his problem. He had talked to one of them — Jared — on the phonethe previous day and had admitted to him that he believed he might have been gay. He explained to him about his feelings for Harry. And then Jared told Raoul, and together they decided it'd be funny to write the word "fag" in big, red letters across Louis locker and draw attention. And now it was around the whole school that Louis was a homosexual.
And perhaps it was true. Louis didn't know.
The ringing of the phone started again, shortly after the previous time, snapping Louis out of his thoughts. Unenthusiastically, he leaned over to check the caller ID on the cordless sitting on the corner of his bed — it could have been his mother.
Harry's number showed up.
Running a hand through his light brown colored hair, Louis let out a shaky sigh. He couldn't talk to Harrt right now. No doubt, Harry had heard the rumors flying around. But why was he phoning, then? Was there a possibility that he had not heard them yet?
Dropping his hand, Louis leaned closer to the phone and uncertainly bit his lip in hesitation. He wasn't sure what to do. Answer the phone and either get laughed at or have Harry ramble on about random topics without knowing that the person he was talking to was currently the victim of the school... or to not answer it and continue to feel alone and hated and confused.
