Whore.

Chapter 38: Fess

I sighed again. He was right; I did say that I'll always be his friend. It didn't exactly say it was a promise, but I meant it as one. And I didn't want to go back on it. Staying away from him didn't seem like a very friendly thing to do. I realized that Bradley had seen me as stability. I was here, worrying about how much he needed stability when I was the one upsetting it. Swash was right. I needed to come with him.

"Fine," I breathed. "Let me just drop these clothes and freshen up."
"Thank you," he said meekly. I could see the relief in his eyes. I dropped the bag and went into the bathroom to straighten my hair. I closed the door behind me. Swash had entered the apartment, but only slightly. Not that I cared. I no longer had that superstitious belief of not having anyone enter my place. It was just a house. I wouldn't live here forever. One day, I'll move, and someone else would consider this his or her safe haven. I went to the car with Swash and we went to his condo. I felt some nostalgia when I looked at the building. A tingling sense of familiarity with this place that held so many memories. I went inside and sat on the couch. It was quiet.

"Where's Brad?" He didn't seem to be at home.
"I told you he's at Rita's. I'm going to get him. Please, make yourself comfortable. Food's in the fridge, TV remote's in-"
"I got it Swash"

He stared at me for a few seconds before he left. I flicked on the TV. As always, it was on National Geographic. There were talking about Morpho butterflies. They were blue and green, with wings that seemed to shimmer with light. The presenter explained something about the crystalline structure of pigment proteins in the wings and the reflection of ultraviolet light which served to signal the males to one another, but I wasn't fully paying attention. I listened to the sounds coming from outside and I knew that Swash had returned. I felt my heart rate quicken. What would Bradley think when he sees me? Would he still be happy? Would he even care anymore? The idea of being rejected by Bradley hurt me more than anything. Maybe this was how I made him feel. Rejected and abandoned. I felt terrible. I could have done so much damage to his self esteem. After all, he was already a child from a divorced family, whose stepfather had physically and mentally abused him. I fought a tear as I considered what I had done.

"Michael!"

I had barely turned completely before my eyes were caught in light brown gold-streaked hair. It was slightly longer than the last time I saw him, and formed loose waves around his ears. His small arms were around my neck. I hugged him closely and the tears that had been forming flowed. I could tell he had missed me greatly. I never wanted to hurt him, and even after I did, he didn't care. He just wanted me around, faults and all.

"You came." He sighed into my ears.
"Yes, I did." I held him back and looked into his excited grey eyes. I felt loved. Bradley didn't care if I was a whore. He didn't care if I had been abused by a sociopath and now had doubts about every human contact I ever made. He didn't care if I was gay. As far as he cared, I was Michael. I felt more than content with just that.
"I missed you Michael. Michael missed you too."
"Really?"
"He doesn't swim around so much anymore," he said, looking a little glum. He held me by the hand and took me to see the gold fish that was in the bowl. He was right. Its movements seemed sluggish. There were bits of food at the bottom and I spotted some green algae beginning to grow in the water.

"Swash?"
"Yes?"
"You need to get a tank for Michael. With aeration system and water filter."
"Really?"
"There isn't enough oxygen circulating in this water. That's why he's getting slow. Fish breathe underwater, but they need oxygen."

Bradley smiled at me, grateful that I had provided a solution for the dying fish. He dragged me back to the couch and began to talk to me. I could see that he wanted to tell me about everything. From getting a junior writer's award for his essay to becoming friends with Tracy and Emily and some other kid named Skylar. Swash had bought him a lot of Lego to play with as he had been so keen on construction. He wanted us to go back to Shedd Aquarium because we had not seen everything the last time. I just listened to him and smiled. I turned and looked at Swash. He had a tired look of pride and gratitude on his face. I was sure this was the most he had heard Bradley say in three weeks. I had no idea I mattered so much to the kid. Swash crossed over from the door and sat on the bean-bag in front of us, admiring his son's chatty nature.