The Smile Has Left Your Eyes

Chapter Two

I furrowed my brows, my worry spiking.

"To lose to a fag? They must have really sucked. I wonder how they would feel if they knew what you were. You're a catcher, right? Doesn't that mean you sit right behind the batters?" His jaw ticked and it was like a switch flipped in his mind. "Don't tell me," he said with a haughty laugh, "do you play catcher just so you can stare at other guys' asses?"

"W-what?" I stuttered. "Of course not!"

I'd been playing the position since I graduated from t-ball, and no one had those sorts of feelings and thoughts at that age. And even if I was old enough, it was still absurd.

"Holy shit. You're so fucking disgusting. Maybe I should just tell everyone. I wonder what your little friends would do when they find out you're a filthy cocksucker. Oh! And our parents! Shit, they'd probably throw you right out!"

I clenched my jaw.

"I have no reason to not expose you. Should I just... leak it?" Alex teased.

"Don't," I said in a quiet-yet-firm tone.

"Don't what?" he drawled. "Don't tell everyone the truth? You want me to lie for you?"

"I'll do anything, so don't," I pleaded. "You promised."

"Hmm, well, I guess our past arrangement wasn't so bad. It's kinda fun, don't you think?" He smiled. He smiled. That sick fuck. "Come on, Aspen. It's fun, don't you think?" Alex seethed, the words overenunciated as a threat.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Damn it... Here we go again. No matter what I replied, the outcome was always the same.

I kept my mouth shut, the bit of pride I had left keeping me from giving him what he wanted.

"Hey, Aspen. Answer. Me." My brother had a crazed look in his eyes.

I didn't look up to meet them and instead stared at my half-eaten dinner.

"Fucking answer me!" Alex's palm came slamming onto the table, rattling my bowl, and causing the spoon to fall onto the wood. I jumped at his outburst. "Are you scared of me? I'll give you something to be fucking scared of!"

His hand flew to my head, clamping onto my hair, and yanking me to my feet. I wanted to scream, to yell, but that would just make it last longer. I could fight back, I really could. I was a couple of inches taller than him and we were about equally muscular. But the price of fighting back was being outed, and that was something Alex had been reminding me of since I was in seventh grade.

My hands tried to grab onto my brother's arms to lessen the hurt of the pull, but it did little to help. Once I was standing, he let go and sent a closed fist into my face. The force sent me to the ground and before I could get back up, his foot dove into my rib cage, kick after kick.

Alex didn't stop until I was coughing and gasping for air.

"Come'ere!" He grunted as he grabbed my hair with one hand and my shoulder with the other, his fingers curling into the large bruise he gave me the other day. "Don't want to get any blood on the floor, now, do we? If mom and dad see anything broken or dirty, I'll have no choice but to tell them the truth," he chirped.

I willed myself not to cry. I'll just take it like I always do.

Alex didn't give me a chance to ground myself and instead dragged me up the stairs. I felt the burn of my skin scraping and being peeled off by the rough wooden steps. Large, painful bruises were already forming where my body hit the harsh ridges of the step above, primarily the vertebrae at the base of my neck and the small of my back. The bastard didn't even give me the opportunity to get up and walk on my own two feet.

When I got stuck on a step, Alex swore and told me to stop making things difficult before shoving the heel of his foot into the area where my shoulder and neck connected. I clenched my teeth, muffling the pain, trying to find release through my voice. By the time we were finally at the top, my entire body shook.

"What? Done already?" my brother scrutinized. He was disappointed. "Don't be such a goddamn baby. You're literally fine. There's no need to overreact."

I kept silent, not wanting to agitate him any more. With one last kick, Alex wandered back down the stairs and out the front door. It was fine. I was fine.

I crawled to the wall, struggling to prop myself against the cool surface. I set my legs out straight in front of me and stared at the red marks on my calves and shins. Looked like shorts were out until they faded... Fucking hell, that was the only part of my body I didn't need to cover.

I stumbled trying to stand, using the side of the wall as a crutch as I slowly hobbled back to my room. I closed the door behind me and collapsed onto my bed, fishing my phone out of my pocket to be met with a thoroughly cracked screen; it was just after ten p.m. I placed the device on the side of my bed next to my pillow and let the darkness consume me.

Whether that resulted from my physical fatigue or the deep, depressing abyss that was my thoughts and mind, they both led me to the same place.