chapter seven:
Caelum managed to convince his mother to let him go back home. Two weeks passed with nothing happening except Caelum slowly losing his mind. He reasoned, with her being a doctor, she’d be able to take care of him, and if nothing happened now, when would something happen? Caelum refused to live the rest of his life in a hospital bed, not after all the work he had done.
His mother was stubborn, bringing up every excuse to keep him there. Caelum appreciated it, he knew he wanted her there because she cared for him, but he couldn’t stay another minute in a bed.
Eventually, she gave in, however it just so happened to be the same week as Thanksgiving, so it didn’t do much for Caelum’s sake. He returned to school that monday only for them to have snow on tuesday, so the school closed.
Caelum spent the holidays tucked in his room. He hardly went out, if only eat and remind his family he was still alive. Usually, his family went upstate to visit relatives and spend thanksgiving with his father’s sister, but his mother refused to go anywhere, not with Caelum’s condition still being under close examination. Caelum insisted on them going, he didn’t want his parents to be held back on his behalf. Eventually, his father took the twins upstate and his mother stayed home with him. It appeased both parties, and Caelum didn’t mind.
He had a few projects to finish and a lot of classwork to do. He was absolutely swamped, so his mother still had to go to work, but she made Caelum promise that if something happened, she’d call emergency services, and then her. He, of course, did before resuming his work. He had assumed it would be a quiet break, he deserved at least that for all that he’s been through lately.
Then, there was a knock at his window. Caelum resisted the urge to throw something at it too. He didn’t have time to talk to Peter and it was too cold to sit outside. He had work to do and Peter needed to get a life!
“Cael? I can see you in there!” Peter’s voice called, “It’s cold! C’mon!”
“Go away!” Caelum snapped, able to be loud since his mother and the rest of his family were away.
“I think it’s about to snow again!”
“Not my problem, Parker!”
“Cael!”
Caelum let out a long, annoyed groan. He was so sick of this. He didn’t want to play Peter’s game, but he found himself opening the window anyway, letting the boy slip inside easily.
Caelum hadn’t seen Peter for at least a week, maybe two, but as he now stared at him, his brow furrowed. Peter had gotten. . . muscular. He could see it under his clothes. It stretched around the biceps and upper abdomen.
This Peter was different, was evolved, but only in slight ways that you had to be sharp to notice. He walked a bit smoother, and had grown a few inches ― he used to be at least 5’5” but now they were nearly eye-to-eye. This was weird ― this was wrong. This was too much for Caelum. The scrawny Peter was fine, was resistable. But this. . . this made his stomach twist and certain parts of his body come alive when he neither wanted nor needed them to.
“Cael? Are you okay?” God, even his prepubescent voice had dropped an octave or two.
Caelum turned away, the back of his neck tingling. He didn’t want to possess Peter ― but he vaguely wondered how that may feel. He stepped around him, in their small space, and closed the window that let in a cold chill. “What do you want this time?” He forced himself to grumble. A few snowflakes, Caelum noticed, were still on his shirt, melting quickly. He also saw a few in his hair and stuck persistently to his eyebrow.
“Did you finish the English project yet?” Peter asked, moving to sit on his bed, bouncing a bit on his mattress before settling.
“Yes, a few days ago ― why? What do you want?”
“To talk,” Peter replied simply. “It’s Thanksgiving break ― shouldn’t you be with, I dunno, your family?”
“They’re gone,” Caelum replied. “Left me here in case something happened. My mom’s at work, my dad went upstate. They’ll bring me a plate and send my best wishes.”
“Don’t you want to spend time with your family?”
“Are you just going to sit here and question how I spend my time?” Caelum scoffed, crossing his arms. “Take your shoes off ― you’re tracking snow around.”
Peter did as he was told and rubbed his hands together. Caelum went back to his desk to finish work, exhaling as he sat and finishing more schoolwork. Peter was quiet for a while, but Caelum felt his gaze on the back of his neck, burning with questions Caelum didn’t want to answer.
Peter flopped on his bed, letting out a moan. Caelum rolled his eyes, but didn’t pay him any mind. Finally, he stood and walked over to Caelum closet, which was simply a few extra uniforms and other clothes he wore on the daily. There were also a few suits in there, but Caelum only wore the for special occasions. “‘Goldman’s Auto Repair’?” He read aloud, and Caelum shot out of his seat.
“Don’t touch that!” He snapped, and Peter dropped the shirt immediately, Caelum realized his mistake, Peter would know it’s important. Peter would ask questions. He thought that his parents paid the other part of his scholarship. He already suspected something with Principal Davis. He might put two and two together.
His mind scrambled for an excuse. “It’s. . . my grandfather’s,” he finally said. “That was his shirt for his shop.” Peter nodded, taking the lie easily, and Caelum turned back to go sit down. Has Caelum ever let anyone in his room before? There were so many secrets he didn’t need sharing. So many things that were detrimental to his education and his life.
“Caelum,” Peter said, again with his serious voice. Caelum turned, going back to his desk. “Can I ask you a question?”
“I can’t exactly stop the words from coming out of your mouth, Parker,” Caelum said, but then realised that he actually could, if he wanted to. He didn’t but the possibility was still there.
“Let’s say you had superpowers,” Peter said suddenly, and Caelum frowned. “You know, like Captain America or Iron Man.”
“Neither of those men have superpowers,” Caelum said, “Not technically.”
“Captain America―”
“Was injected with the super serum,” Caelum finished. “That was pretty much steroids. Iron Man is just rich and built a suit.”
“He’s smart too!”
“But that’s not a superpower,” Caelum said, and Peter huffed.
“Well, then, Thor or the Hulk,” Peter amended.
“You mean Doctor Bruce Banner,” Caelum corrected. “That’s like saying Frankenstein and the doctor.”
“You know what I mean,” Peter said, suddenly irritated, which seemed five times more prominent on his new muscular body. Again Caelum felt that tingly feeling, and closed his mouth. “If you had superpowers, what would you do?”
“What do you mean?”
Peter shrugged. “What would you do? Would you be a hero, would you lay low? Would you join SHIELD, or the military?”
“What kind of superpowers?” Caelum asked.
“I dunno,” Peter gesticulated, annoyed. “Super. . . strength! And, flying.”
“So, Superman, then?”
“Yes, but actually real,” Peter insisted. Caelum scoffed.
“If it were me, I’d stay low,” Caelum said. “And I wouldn't destroy entire cities.” Peter rolled his eyes, and Caelum frowned, leaning back in his seat. “Powers like the one you described are. . . dangerous. If you try to do good, someone, somewhere, will try to thwart you. With great power like that, comes great responsibility. If you're not ready for that kind of responsibility, then don't put yourself out there.”
Peter was silent and Caelum turned his way. The sunlight through the window gave him an two o’clock shadow. He was deep in thought from Caelum's words, and he couldn't help staring at his body. He bit the inside of his lip, forcing himself to turn away. “Okay.” Peter finally said, and Caelum gave a turse nod.
“If that's all you want, I'm going to finish my work,” he said, and moved back to his table. “You're welcome to go back home.” Peter huffed, shaking his head, but he heard his bedsprings move and Peter’s light footsteps on the ground.
Peter grabbed his shoes and coat, but stalled for a moment. Then, he came over to Caelum, leaning on one of his textbooks so Caelum would have no choice but to see him.
They were close again, Caelum swallowed, keeping his eyes directed to the paper. He could smell him ― he smelt like mint and shea butter. “Happy Thanksgiving, Cael,” he said, and Caelum couldn't help looking at him. That starry smile that made his world a bit brighter. Those beautiful brown eyes that twinkled when it caught the sunlight. His faded freckles ― god, Caelum wanted to kiss each and every one of them.
Caelum felt the back of his neck tingle, and he didn't want to look away. He wanted to savour this moment forever.
Peter was the first to move. He stood and began to rub his arm. His smile turned into a frown, and he began to look around, confused. “What's the matter?” Caelum asked, he couldn't help sounding concerned.
“. . . Nothing,” he said, and nudged Caelum's arm. “Don't worry about it. See ya, Cael!” Then he opened the window, and left.
° · ° · ° · °
Caelum managed to finish all his work before he returned to school. It was a hassle, to carry all of his school books back from his house to his locker, but he managed.
He walked through the front doors with all the other students. Most of them branched off to the cafeteria if they had money for breakfast ― of course, Caelum didn't.
Caelum went straight for his locker, and began to unload the books he didn't need for class. He also took off his heavy winter supplies that kept him from getting hypothermia.
When Caelum closed his locker, he jumped back a few steps. Behind the door, was Principal Davis. He was eying Caelum, almost greedily. “I am glad you are back, after your accident, Mr. Forest.”
Caelum was silent for a few moments, “Tha. . . thank you. . . sir.”
“I would like you to follow me,” He said, but Caelum knew it was an order. “We need to discuss your financials.” Caelum closed his eyes, his heart pounding. He didn't want to do this. He was tired, and this was. . . it was too much.
“Yes, sir,” Caelum replied.
Principal Davis turned and began to walk away, Caelum followed, his heart racing, but keeping his head down. They walked to the door across the hall that was also a shortcut to the office.
“Caelum!” Someone shouted before could enter, and he looked up, confused. Then, he realized. Of course.
Peter was on the other side of the room, watching him and Principal Davis. Confused and concerned.
“Let's go,” Principal Davis snapped, and Caelum turned away, following him.
Caelum stepped into Principal Davis’ office and hesitantly locked the door. As soon as it clicked, Principal Davis’ hand was around his throat. Caelum gasped, trying to move, trying to get him off, but his strength was solid. He pushed Caelum into a chair, and his side banged against the wooden armrest. He hissed, moving his arm to his side.
“We need to talk about your finances, Me. Forest,” Principal Davis said again. He sounded calm, but his actions were coarse, upset. He began to undo his belt, and Caelum found himself shaking his head, moving away. “Do you have the money for me?” Caelum tried to keep his composure, but his words were choking in his mouth.
Principal Davis didn't like this, not at all. He used his belt and tied it around Caelum's throat.
He gasped, “Please,” he breathed, tears growing in his eyes. Oh god, he thought frantically. He was going to die. He was going to to die with Principal Davis' belt around his throat. He was going to kill him. Oh god, oh god! “Please. . .!”
“I'll ask one more time,” Principal Davis said, and Caelum caught a glimpse of a smile on his face. He tightened the belt so Caelum’s fingers would do no good against it. “Do you have it?”
“No,” his voice was no more than a whisper. The room was fading out of sight ― out of existence. “Don't. . . couldn't. . .!”
Principal Davis dragged Caelum to the ground, and then released the belt. Caelum loosened it with shaking fingers and breathed raggedly. “Well, then, you know what that means, Mr. Forest.” He heard his pants fall. Caelum felt like he was going to be sick. “You'll need an extension.”
“. . . Please,” Caelum begged. He couldn't do this anymore. “Can you. . . please, don't. . .” Principal Davis grabbed Caelum chin, forcing him to look at him, right in his eyes.
Caelum felt his neck tingle, and he made a face, darting his eyes slightly away, his nose, or his forehead. He shoved it in Caelum's mouth, forcing his jaw all the way open. Caelum gagged, and bile rose in his throat. He felt for something to grab onto, to pull away.
Tears came out the corners of Caelum's eyes, tracing down his face. Up and down, in and out, again and again. He prayed for him to finish quickly, to be some with and let him go. Caelum vomited a little, and it spilled over the sides. Suddenly, he felt something hot jet down his throat and he gagged, choking.
Principal Davis pulled away and Caelum laid on the ground, heaving and vomiting. He never went that far before. Oh god, oh god.
Principal Davis kicked him a trash bin, and Caelum took it, vomit spewing past his lips. He let out a choked sob, he never went that far before.
“Quiet down,” Principal Davis snapped, kicking him in his sore side. Caelum nearly collapsed. His hand going to the ground and holding him steady. He lurched and vomited again. He wanted it all out. He wanted it gone. “You have two weeks,” Principal Davis said. Caelum gave a shaky nod, wiping his face.
“Th. . .” he gave a shuddering breath. “Thank you. . . sir.” He saw Principal Davis smile and step over, he gave Caelum shoulder a rub. Caelum flinched away, and then vomited again. His throat burned and his stomach twisted.
“We need more good kids like you, Mr. Forest,” Principal Davis praised. “You're a valuable asset to this school.” Caelum didn't know what to say. He shuddered again, a bit of bile dripping his lip. Principal Davis noticed and went to his desk, grabbing a tissue box. He handed it to Caelum.
Caelum took it silently, cleaning himself up to the best of his ability. Finally, he stood, his arms and legs shaking. “Have a good day, Mr. Forest.” Caelum nodded quietly, and turned away.
He opened the door and felt someone's eyes on him immediately. He looked up and saw Peter watching him, shocked and concerned.
Caelum quickly closed the door so that Principal Davis didn't see him. Then, he briskly turned, leaving the office the opposite way.
“Caelum!” He called, following him. Caelum broke into a run, skidding out of the office and going straight for his locker. He opened it with shaking hands, grabbing his stuff blindly. His coat, his scarf, his backpack. “Caelum, please,” Peter placed a hand on his shoulder. Caelum jumped, his eyes wide and frantic.
“Don't fucking touch me!” He snapped, anger blazing in his eyes. His entire body was shaking. What did Peter hear? He couldn't possibly hear anything, his office was virtually soundproof.
Caelum put on his coat with shaking hands, wrapping his scarf around his neck, wincing when he pulled it too tight. “Caelum, what happened? What did he do to you?”
“Nothing,” Caelum muttered angrily. “He did nothing.”
“You're shaking.”
“It’s -5 degrees outside!” He snapped. “No shit!”
“Caelum―”
“Leave me alone, Parker,” Caelum said, his anger dying away ― but only a little. He couldn't stay here today. He needed to leave.
“I can call the police,” Peter suggested. “I can tell them that he's―”
Caelum yanked Peter by the collar, pushing him against the locker directly next to his. His eyes were narrowed, his anger sharp, “If you ever breathe a word of this to anyone,” Caelum hissed. “I will make your life hell, Parker.”
Peter stared at him, shocked. Caelum breathed heavily. Then, he grabbed his backpack, slipping it on, and zipping up his coat. He left Peter where he was and left the building.