☆Blaze☽
Chapter 3 (Part 2):
I dropped the spoons onto the counter and turned away from Hayden. There was no way Mom would ever side with me. What was I going to say? He locked me out after I left to go sell some weed and he heard me on the phone to the guy that gave me the weed and I threw spoons at him? I felt like that wouldn't blow over well.
"Just wait till Mom leaves." I turned away and headed back towards the foyer, where my phone lay on the rough carpet. I picked it up and over turned it in my hands; it seemed unflawed. Sighing, I looked at it with discontent. There were a few missed calls from Beatle, and a text. I didn't want to read it, but I knew I would eventually. What the hell was I going to say?
I could tell him it was just my brother being an idiot, but did I really want to? I wasn't in the closet; I just never had friends or anyone to tell. My family knew, and that was about it. I'm pretty sure Hayden never told for his own reputation more than my own.
Or, I could tell him the truth and have them possibly want nothing to do with me. It wasn't exactly like our community was plentiful with gays, there were probably more homophobes. I had no idea how Beatle would react, and even if he was cool with it, it didn't mean that Trick, Mi, and Whiskey would be.
I shoved my phone into my pocket as it began to ring again and I trudged up the stairs, leaving Hayden alone in the kitchen. I tiptoed past Mom's room and passed the bathroom to my bedroom, throwing my phone onto my bed as I tugged off my jeans and pulled my hoodie over my head. I fumbled through my drawers until I found pajama bottoms in the darkness. A groan emitted my lips as my cell continued to vibrate against my bed.
Before I could let myself think of an elaborate lie to tell Beatle, I had the phone to my ear.
"Lake? Did you hang up on me?" His voiced was laced with confusion, and what sounded like humour. I spat out my answer, absent mindedly pulling the covers on my bed.
"Yup."
"Is there anything you want to say?" I chewed harshly on the inside of my cheek; the only noises coming from my end were my breaths. I didn't want to hear him judge me; I didn't want to have no friends again.
I heard a sigh on the other end, and some rummaging around as a door closed.
"We don't have to tell the guys, it can be our secret."
I wanted to ask him what he was talking about or tell him there was nothing to tell, but it just seemed pointless. I was getting sick of pretending. I thought once I came out to my family that I would be free, but high school plunged me so far into Narnia that I couldn't locate the wardrobe to get back out.
"I know you're there. I can hear you breathing." I slid under the covers, listening to Beatle's persistent voice, but not gracing it with a response. I don't think I could even if I wanted to; the concept of words seemed to be lost in my mind. Maybe I had left it in Narnia.
"Fine. That's cool. Ignore me," Beatle huffed in annoyance as I placed the phone next to me on the pillow and snuggled my head into the soft fabric. I didn't want to hang up, because then he would just call back and try to have the conversation all over again. I wasn't going to tell him I was or wasn't gay, he could believe whatever he wanted.
"Okay, look. I don't care if you are heterosexual, bisexual, homosexual, pansexual, bicurious, asexual or whatever other kinds of sexual there are. I'm just bored, and I want to get out of my house. So, you in or not?" A smile made its way across my lips at this, though I wasn't entirely sure why. I think I was mostly happy that he hadn't forgotten why he called me in the first place; it made me being gay seem so insignificant in the scheme of things. Which, it really was. I mean, people don't come out as straight, so why do I have to come out as gay? It was just a small detail in my life, one that Beatle seemed to be able to overlook.
"I'm already in bed. I party pretty hard on Fridays," I said sarcastically. As he laughed I could hear what sounded like a car unlocking from his end of the phone.
"Good, I'll be there in five."
"Did you miss what I-" The line was already dead, the last thing I heard was a car door slamming. At least he is smart enough not to drive on the phone.
I lay, frozen in my spot in my bed. If I snuck out again and got caught, Mom would put me under house arrest. I tried to redial Beatle's number and tell him I wasn't going out, but it went straight to voicemail.
A few minutes later, while I paced my room, I heard a horn honk outside of my house. I walked over and peeked between the blinds, seeing Beatle's car parked in the middle of the road. I didn't think he had any headlights on despite how dark it was.
I yanked my window open and stared down at the car until he stepped out and looked at me with a quizzical yet impatient expression.
"Are you coming?" He asked, with frustration, leaning against the open car door while I placed my hands on either side of my open window.
"No. I already told you, you just don't listen."
"You can't bail on me now, I'm already here." I rolled my eyes and walked away from the window and towards the stack of books in my room next to the desk. There wasn't enough room for a book shelf, so I had a large stack of books that reached nearly my waist.
I was thumbing through the titles and trying to pick a good one when I heard a noise sound from outside. It was like a small branch being broken. I got up from my crouching position and strode back over to the still open window.
I expected to see Beatle driving away into the darkness, I obviously should have known better.
"Are you crazy? You're going to kill yourself." I exclaimed, trying to keep my voice down. I watched as the moron shimmied up the drainpipe. It was like when Tom Hardy did it to kiss Emily Browning in the movie Legend. Except this wasn't a movie, and I doubted climbing the pipe was as easy as it looked.
"If you won't come out, I'm coming up." He huffed as his fingers skimmed along the bricks, looking for a hole to grab and pull himself up.
I rolled my eyes; he seemed a little less than sober. I closed my window and picked The Book Thief off the floor. I don't know why I even bothered to look through all my books, I always chose this one.
After I had finished the first two chapters uninterrupted, I figured that Beatle had finally given up and went to torment Mi, Whiskey, or Trick. I set the book face-down on my comforter, walking towards the window for what I promised would be the last time.
I looked out and didn't see him anymore, but his car was still parked in the middle of the road. I jerked the window open again and looked around.
"Lake!" I heard him desperately call out my nickname, and searched the drainpipe. Then I noticed something glint in the moonlight, it was a ring. My eyes followed it to his hands, which were gripping the eaves trough.
Goddamn it.
I groaned loudly and pulled myself out the window, sensing the icy breeze against my skin. I still hadn't put on a shirt. I carefully stumbled down the shingles on the roof towards Beatle.
"Lake!" Beatle yelled out again, and one of his hands released the metal gutter. I staggered over faster, and grabbed the hand that was still holding on, the one with the ring. It was slick with blood, and I winced at the feel of it. I was beginning to feel queasy and the sight of the lawn below us was not helping. I heaved all my weight backwards, attempting to pull him up before he fell and splattered on the lawn, assuming he made the grass instead of the walkway or the garden. Mom would kill me if I got blood on her roses.
I fell backwards onto the tiles, my foot catching in the drain before I could slide off the rooftop. I whined in pain and there was a loud creaking noise. I looked down to see the eaves trough disconnecting itself from the end of the roof. I scrambled back to my feet, ignoring how the shingles nicked at my skin and made it burn with pain. All I could focus on was getting us both out of this situation alive, which also meant not waking my mother.
I pulled on the sleeve of his jacket, using it to pull him up next to me. I heard it tearing, but at the moment I didn't really care. I heaved him up, and despite everything I thought was possible, he was no longer dangling from the gutter. Somehow I had managed to pull him up the roof.
There was no moment where I paused to catch my breath; I was too fearful that something awful would happen, like the roof collapsing beneath our weight. It was only the porch roof, it was all for decorative purposes, so who knew how well it was built. I crawled up and through my window, landing nearly face-first onto the wooden floor of my bedroom. There was a loud 'thunk' that echoed through the house, but I could still hear Mom's rhythmic snores from down the hall. I forced myself onto my feet, trying to avoid seeing the scrapes and cuts on my arms and chest. Beatle's hand gripped the window frame and he too pulled himself into my room.
"You should be wearing a permanent straight jacket." He shrugged and held his hands up to his face, examining them in the light of my bed lamp. I could see the cuts in them; they were straight and relatively deep looking. The edges of the drain must have been sharp.
"You should have come outside."
"Come on; let's wrap up your hands before you get an infection." I grabbed his wrist but he pulled it away from me, standing firmly in his spot.
"No, I came to talk to you. I-"
"Elliot?" I heard my mother's voice call out loudly from the hallway and my eyes widened to the size of grapes.
"Shit. Shit. Get out."
"What?" Before he could protest I had already pushed him out the window and closed the blinds behind him. My door knob rattled and my mom's face popped in. She yawned and rubbed her eyes, looking around my room.
"Bed, now. You're keeping Hayden awake, and he needs his sleep for the soccer tournament tomorrow." I looked past her to see my brother, smirking in the hall.
"Yes, Ma," I replied sourly. She shut the door and I could hear words exchanging between her and Hayden. I sighed and tiptoed back over to my window, glancing out just in time to see Beatle's car turning around the corner and off of my street.
I spent most of the night awake and wondering what Beatle had to say. I picked up my phone at least five times to call him, but I couldn't bring myself to. Whatever it was would just have to wait.
*a/n Wow, 100 votes! What the hell? You guys are awesome!
Of course Elliot's mom would ruin everything, damn parents.
Okay, well I love all of you guys, so, comment, vote, follow, and all that stuff! Okay, now I'm rambling. Till next time !