Flashback
Anthony's POV
I was totally enamored by his words. It was like I was held prisoner by them. They captured me and kept me in chains. They took roots deep within.
I didn't want to leave Connor. I knew his name because he had messaged me back.
There was so much I wanted to know about him. He was a very intriguing character. It was a brief encounter, but he left a big mark. I was only a listeneer of his words, but he pretty much wooed me into his world of make-belief.
As I listened to him telling that story and later as we spoke, I felt his voice so homey, so calming and soothing. His voice was like a very sexy and younger version of Morgan Freeman's. The pitch, the tone, the intonation, with every word he used, expressed the very exact emotions he tried to convey. His voice was like a rushing river escorting me into the land of dreams where fairy tale happens. I was the prince rescuing the damsel in distress.
But I had rush back to school to write a report for Mr. Ashwin on my time at the Providence Holy Family Hospital Spokane. He gave me no option – I was glad now that he did not – I was to spend 2 hours every weekend at a hospital for 3 months and make a report of my time there or get expelled from school.
I had to admit this was probably my fifth or sixth time to brush with
school authorities in the last 6 months. But for a good reason . I was now known as the bullies' bully. I bullied those who bullied. After years of being a witness to the bullying and doing nothing, I decided to do something about it. As a result, I spent a lot of time in detention or community works.
As I was typing my report with only Andrew, who had become close to me, in the detention room – Mr. Ashwin went out and said he would be back in 15 minutes. Andrew had some altercations with some dimwits, hence our being cooped up in a hell hole like this.
As I was writing my essay, I could not help myself from the lingering thoughts, I explained to Andrew what had happened during the visit.
"I met a person when visiting Holy Family. He was telling stories to the people there, mostly children and young adults. They were so familiar with him like he was one of the staff there. And you should look at the faces of the children, even the nurses and doctors."
So, I proceeded to tell him what had happened. Andrew looked at me rather amusingly. I must have looked like a love-struck puppy, but I couldn't help myself. Andrew picked it up quickly.
"Dude, slow down. You sound like a devoted fan of his." I must have turned red. I felt it. My face warm. I was hyperventilating a bit.
Andrew punched my arm and hugged me to death with a look on his face. I struggled to return the punch but was unable. He jolted and moved away.
I brushed aside the thought, although he might be right.
"You should listen to him telling stories, dude, you'd feel the same way too!"
"Anthony, we've been very close lately, I know you inside out. We have boners together cuddling in our sleep, remember? I know your smell from a mile. I know your habits and I date say every thing about you. But, I must remind you, you have never behaved like this before and so be careful, okay bud!" I hit him hard before he could continue." He moved a distance away from me, smiling.
"Something is going on in that head of yours." My ears were alarmingly burning.
"Never mind then. I don't wanna talk to you. You turn every conversation into a freaking relationship discussion. You know I hate that. And I keep telling you, I AM NOT GAY." I lauhed at myself mentally having said that. Andrew knew better.
"But you love cuddling with me! And you have boner every time." Helooked so innocent as he was saying them.
"That is what people call morning wood!" I threw some books at him.
"No, you have it while cuddling BEFORE we slept!" Notice the stress in the word. He tried to accuse me of it, while he was guilty of the same.
"But that doesn't mean that I am gay. You are my buddy, my brother. We do things together."
"Best friends don't shower together; we do," he said with a smirk.
"So what are you insinuating ... that we ... that you yourself are ..."
He chuckled, covered my mouth with his hand, made some awfully weird sounds, pecked me on my cheek, handed in his essay and simply ran out of the room.
"Just kidding bud." He was running for his life while I chased after him with a baseball bat in my hand.
End of Flashback