-Theo-
I had managed to get into my room, and on my bed after crying my eyes out. I had no idea what time it was, but I didn't even care. I was just staring at my scars – Beau's name – on my left arm. The wounds were almost healed, and I thought about finding my razor blade and redoing the letters so I could never forget him. Like that was even possible.
But I didn't want to hear Deon laugh at me. I was sure he would if he found out I had cut Beau's name on my skin, so I decided to do it later – I wasn't sure how much more cruelty I could take that day.
I forgot all about Deon when I remembered Beau, and his sweet voice when he told me he missed me. I couldn't understand why Beau wanted to apologize now, after four months. And why couldn't I forgive him? I really wanted to, but I couldn't say it out loud. All I wanted was to be with him, but I couldn't forgive him.
My thoughts were interrupted by my own cough. I was almost surprised because my sides didn't hurt much, not even when I was coughing my lungs out. I didn't feel so feverish anymore, and physically I felt a little bit better. I guess it was because I hadn't been pushed or shoved around, and no one had even tried to hit me during the past couple of days.
And it was all thanks to Deon.
I sighed heavily and rolled to my side to stare out the window.
"Deon..." I muttered in irritation.
Deon was a jerk and mean to me. He hated me, and I was pretty sure he was trying to get me in trouble at school. The only difference between him and my bullies was that he was mean to everyone else too, so I hoped that him being a dick to me wasn't anything personal. I didn't want to hang out with him, but he was the only person who didn't want to hurt me, and wasn't disgusted of me.
And Beau... He didn't even want to be seen with me. He could've just waited for me at school, but he decided to lurk near my home and hope I'd walk past him...
Maybe that was why I couldn't forgive Beau so easily. Deon hated my guts, but he helped me. Beau was my best friend once, but he had never done anything to stop my bullies from hurting me.
I sighed again. I still had strong feelings for Beau – obviously, since I freaked out so badly – and I was sure that if he really meant what he said, I could eventually forgive him. After all, he did say he had no idea I'd get hurt. Maybe he had done things differently if he knew I'd get bullied.
I was starting to feel a little cheerier, and it was extremely weird. It had been a long time since I felt anything better than numbness. Sadly, that cheery feeling didn't last for too long. I picked up my phone and looked at the screen, and my stomach twisted unpleasantly when I saw what time it was.
It was almost eight already. Allen wasn't home yet, but the TV in the living room was on, so my dad was most likely home. He was probably drinking again. I hoped he would pass out soon and that Allen would stay the night with his friends, because getting Deon up into my room would be a real challenge if they didn't.
I didn't know how drunk Deon would be, but it didn't even matter since no one could climb up to my bedroom window on the second floor, not even if they were sober. Therefore, he had to use the front door, and my family would see him perfectly from the living room.
I shook my head, preparing myself mentally for the worst, and got out of bed. I sneaked out of my room to get some blankets and a pillow from our guestroom. I wrinkled my nose when I opened the door and the horrid smell hit me. The only guests we had nowadays were Dad's drinking buddies, and they always left the room in a filthy mess. I always cleaned it afterward, but nothing could erase the sickening smell.
I held my breath when I hurried to a small closet at the back of the room and grabbed everything I needed to make a bed on my floor and then ran back out. I took a deep breath of clean air and returned to my room, pressing the pillow and the blankets against my chest.
I locked the door so neither Dad nor Allen could walk in and see what I was doing and then went to make the bed on the floor. Deon would probably take my bed, so I tried to make the extra one as soft as I could since I was going to be the one sleeping on it.
Once I was satisfied with it, I got up and dragged my schoolbag to the desk, and started doing my homework. I was going to spend my weekend outside, avoiding my family, so I had to do the homework while I still could.
At least I tried, but I couldn't concentrate. I was still thinking about Beau, trying to decide if I should call or text him. I wondered what he was doing. Maybe he was thinking of me. Maybe he was waiting for my call, hoping I'd forgive him. Did he really want to be my friend? Did he really want to be with me?
Was it possible for me to be happy again?
*****
When it was almost midnight, I stopped waiting for Deon. He was famous with girls, so he had probably found a better place to crash. I'd known him since the day I started high school, and I'd never seen him dating a girl longer than a few weeks. He had always hated everyone for no particular reason, so I was amazed he even was dating anyone. I guess even he couldn't ignore his hormones.
I wished from the bottom of my heart that he wouldn't show up, but luck was never on my side, so I wasn't surprised when my phone started vibrating next to my head, waking me up from my slumber.
"Which window is yours?" Deon asked as soon as I answered the phone.
"You can't climb up – I'll come open the door," I whispered and hung up, feeling really annoyed.
I cursed Deon all the way down to the front door, listening to the sounds in our home. I could hear my dad's loud snoring coming from the living room. At least Allen didn't seem to be home yet.
I opened the door and saw Deon leaning against the wall next to it. He had a smoke between his lips, and he seemed tired, but thankfully not too drunk to stay on his feet.
"Hurry up," I muttered, "and don't make a sound."
Deon pursed his lips and dumped his smoke to my dad's ashtray on the windowsill. He followed me inside, and I was surprised by how steady his steps were. I almost believed he hadn't been out at all, but I could smell the strong scent of alcohol on him.
"Over here," I whispered after we climbed upstairs, and led him to my room.
I stopped to wait for him to enter so I could lock the door after him, but he stopped over the threshold and glanced at my room.
"Seriously...?" he muttered, staring at the posters I had. "This looks like a girl's room."
"You don't have to stay if you don't want to," I said quietly, trying to hide my irritation. "But choose quickly – I want to go back to sleep."
"No need to be rude," Deon yawned as he finally stepped in, and I closed the door.
"I suppose you want the bed?" I asked and walked past him.
"Floor is fine," Deon said, sounding almost nice.
"Suit yourself," I murmured and sat down on my bed. Deon turned to look at me, tilting his head. I didn't like the way he was staring at me with a crooked smile on his lips and laughter in his eyes.
"What?" I snapped at him, but he just chuckled at me.
"I just can't imagine you hiding behind the bushes at school," he said while taking his jacket off.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked with a frown.
Deon shrugged and glanced at the blankets I'd found for him. "I'm just wondering why you're letting people walk over you, but with me you get snappy and annoyed."
"No one else is blackmailing me," I said with an annoyed tone.
"Yeah, well, I'm the only one who's not using you as their punching bag," Deon noted and took off his T-shirt.
I got distracted, but I was never going to admit that to Deon. His upper body was nice. He wasn't muscular per se, but he did look strong. His arms were thick, and his chest was broad, and I did try to imagine how he'd look if he were just a little bit more toned.
I shook my head, trying to get rid of those images, and noticed a small tattoo on his chest, right under his left collarbone. I couldn't see it clearly, but it was a small, black-and-white tattoo of a carp. I wasn't surprised to see a tattoo on him. He did have a lot of piercings, so of course he had a tattoo.
"You should be more grateful," Deon continued without noticing my absentmindedness.
"You do remember I'm gay?" I asked him hastily when he started unbuckling his belt.
Deon turned to look at me, then at the belt, and then back at me, narrowing his eyes and blushing slightly before turning around.
"Keep your eyes to yourself, pervert," he muttered, but he didn't sound angry or mean.
It might've been a bad idea to test Deon's patience like that, but I wanted to know where our boundaries were. For some reason, I did feel more confident than before, and it was nice to know he could take a little teasing.
"Why did you want to make that deal with me? You could've just forced me to do what you want," I said carefully.
Deon tossed his pants on my chair and sat down on his bed, covering his legs with the blankets. "Where's the fun in beating up small kids?" he snorted. "It's not challenging."
"So you are really doing this just to annoy Sean?" I said.
"Hell yeah," Deon chuckled. "I still don't like you, but it does piss me off to see three big dudes beating a little boy."
His voice was almost apologetic, even though he was doing his best to make me understand how little he thought of me.
"Even if that little boy is gay?" I asked slowly.
"Like I said earlier, I don't give a damn who you want to fuck," Deon explained and lay down on the blankets. "As long as it's not me."
"But why? You are so charming!" I gasped sarcastically.
Deon chuckled cheerily. "Ungrateful little brat," he muttered. "Lucky for you, I get jolly and all when I'm drunk. Try that attitude of yours when I'm sober and you're dead."
"Sure, sure..." I said while lying down. "Now that I think about it, you're not that scary."
"Huh?" Deon breathed out. "I'm the craziest son-of-a-bitch you'll ever meet."
"Craziest yeah, but not scary," I said. "You're just a prankster."
"I'll show you scary," Deon muttered. "Tomorrow morning you'll see me at my worst."
"Yeah, sure, whatever..." I said with a small smile.
I was really smiling at him. I couldn't decide what was weirder; the fact that Deon really wasn't that scary after all, or that he was the first person who had brought a genuine smile on my lips after four long months.
*****
The next morning I snapped wide awake, and it took me only a few seconds to realize what had woken me up.
"Open the freaking door!"
I got up on my knees and stared at the door with fear rushing through my veins. Allen was banging on my door, yelling at me with a furious voice. I knew I had to let him in – my brother would never give up until I did – but I couldn't move. I'd get hurt if I opened the door, and I almost cried at the thought of it.
But at the same time, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had forgotten something.
"Open the door, you freak!" Allen screamed again.
I was about to open my mouth and reply to him, but then I remembered what I had forgotten.
"Shut the fuck up!" Deon yelled angrily, and Allen fell silent behind the door.
Deon was in my room!
"Who the fuck is that, you fucking fag?!" Allen screamed with a high-pitched voice. "Are you fucker bringing your disgusting buddies to our home?!"
I watched in fear when Deon got up from the floor with a furious look on his face. He opened the lock and yanked the door open with force, and I could see Allen's surprised look when he saw Deon standing in front of him.
"I said, SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Deon yelled at my brother, and shoved him away from the door before slamming it shut again.
I was so scared I was almost unable to breathe. I could only stare at Deon, who was glaring at the door.
"Now you've done it," I whispered with wide eyes.
I shivered when I thought about all the ways Allen would use to have his revenge. He would lash out at me, and make my hellish life even more unbearable to live, just because Deon had pushed him.
Deon turned around, stopped to a halt, and looked at me. He was frowning and scratching his back, looking like nothing special had just happened.
"Oh, right – I needed a place to stay..." he muttered to himself and looked around in my room. "Isn't this a girl's room, though?"
"Y-you... Don't remember?" I asked timidly, listening to Allen's footsteps in horror.
"It's coming back now," Deon said. "Who the fuck was that?"
"My b-brother..." I stuttered.
"He's an asshole, if you ask me," Deon snorted and started to collect his clothes.
"Are you leaving?" I asked, and he nodded. "You can't! You just made everything a hell of a lot worse for me! You can't just leave me here with him!"
I snapped my mouth shut. Deon turned to look at me with a deep frown on his face.
"So those are not just from Sean and his buddies?" he asked, looking at my bruised arms.
I glanced at myself and swallowed when I realized he could see all my injuries.
"I think you're right," I muttered in embarrassment, "You should go, I'll be fine..." I continued and tried to cover up my bruises and scars, even though he had seen them all already.
Deon dressed up without saying another word, then opened the door and marched out. I pulled my legs against my chest and started sobbing quietly. The good feeling from the previous night was gone, and all I could feel was shame. I never wanted anyone to see my bruises, and it was even worse that Deon had seen Beau's name on my skin. Now he knew how ridiculous I really was.
I didn't have much more time to wallow in self-pity before I heard something heavy hitting the floor somewhere downstairs.
"Oh, no..." I gasped and rushed up on my feet and out of my room.
"Listen now," I heard Deon's angry voice when I ran to the stairs. "I'll be counting Theo's cuts and bruises from now on, so if I find a new one, I'll tear you apart."
I reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped to stare at the scene in front of me. Allen was lying on the floor in front of Deon, glaring up at him in anger. Deon was hovering over him with his fist raised up, ready to hit my brother.
"You got that?" Deon hissed at Allen, who turned to look away with a slow nod.
Then Deon turned to look at me. "You have my number. Call me if you get in trouble."
I just nodded, and without another word, Deon walked to the door and stepped out into the sunny yard, leaving me staring after him in shock. I didn't even dare to look at my brother, who was getting up from the floor.
I didn't want to be alone with him, so I returned to my room and locked the door once again. I didn't believe Allen would take Deon's threat seriously. I knew my brother was pissed, and it was just a matter of time before he'd come after me. And I knew I'd be in a world of pain when he did.