Kent
A lot of things shape our lives.
Some are direct and some are not.
Some are as small as a minor inconvenience, and some are major incidents.
My life was different.
The line between minor and major was very blurry and squiggly. Tiny mishaps changed the course of my life, and traumatic experiences didn't even faze me.
Merely a few months ago, a team jacket changed the course of my life, dramatically enough. I was the proud wearer of the jacket that said:
Grayson
6
I thought about it for days. I protected it like it was my lifeline. I basked in its smell and feel, knowing Noah, who occupied most of my vision during lunch periods, wore it.
A beating from dad didn't make me flinch.
The car was driving steadily down the road, as I drifted in and out of sleep. My past kept materialising in the shape of dreams and intrusive visions.
How a blue and white jacket could make me feel safe. A jacket I no longer owned.
How a home economics class made me feel wanted and not as alone as I thought.
How Noah's hand in my hair made it feel softer than it ever was.
It was all going so well. I couldn't believe how it all could shatter in the blink of an eye.
--
"What if you stay over?" Noah asked. We were lying on his bed, our heads on the footboard's side.
"I thought we agreed I'm already staying over."
"I don't mean tonight." He turned his face toward me. "Stay for the weekend, and maybe me more."
"How much is more?"
"A week. I don't know, a month? A year? For as long as you want?"
I sighed. "I wish it was that easy to just choose where do you want to live, or who do you want to live with or be with, and it just happens."
"No one said it was easy, but we can make it work. My family won't mind." Noah was building on blocks of imagination.
"It's not that simple, No-"
"It can be, though," He interrupted, though it didn't annoy me like it usually would've. "we just need to try."
"Yeah, maybe."
"Plus," he added. "I really want you to be here on my birthday. And I mean here, in my room, all night, where we can spend it alone after everyone's gone. I'd give anything I have for that."
"I thought you were supposed to get gifts for a birthday, not give them."
"Just say you want a cheesy buttknuckle comment."
I said I'd move in if his parents are okay with it.
What I didn't say was the avalanche of dreadful thoughts going through my mind. I didn't express my worry that my dad would literally kill me. I knew he kicked me out of the house, but sooner or later, he was going to drag me back there. He knew better than that. It was his idea of punishment; so I could fend for myself and become the tough man he wanted his kid to be.
I knew the way he thought very well.
And I knew how Noah's thoughts were made of velvet dreams and happy ever afters. At least he was happy, and that's all what mattered for the while being.
--
"You're saying you want Kent to stay over? Till your birthday?" his dad asked, albeit a little sceptical.
"Yes." Noah replied.
"March 6th is still a good two weeks away."
"Your point?"
Whenever it came to permissions or disciplinary action, coach Grayson was the dad in charge. I didn't know whether his other dad was incapable of making decisions, or just didn't want to make decisions to be held accountable.
"On one condition." Coach finally said.
"No frick-fracking." His grandma said, to which he blushed hard.
"I was gonna say they sleep in separate
rooms..." His grandma sighed while his dad continued like it was normal for her to say things like this. "And as long as your parents are okay with it." He addressed me with his last sentence.
I knew for a fact that my dad is definitely not okay with it. I also knew he was going to cause trouble if I tell him.
I wasn't gonna tell him.
I was even dreading having to go and pick up my clothes and all that hustle.
Little did I know I wasn't even going to see Noah's house again.
I don't remember seeing Noah happier than that last night we spent in his bedroom. He talked about everything on his mind.
He told me how excited he was to finish our Home Economics project because we got to work on it together.
He told me how he was going to try see and talk to his friends more because he was being too distracted from them.
He told me how much he loved the cold grey colour of the moonlight.
He told me how much he loved cerulean blue.
He told me how much I'm cerulean blue.
He told me he wanted to do so many things with me that I felt like we actually had a chance at something happy.
I told him how I'm all his to do whatever he wants.
We had a chance at something happy.
We had a chance at so many things that didn't happen.
Why didn't they happen?
Because my dad was a bitch, that's why.
Dad was set to arrive home at 6pm. He needed to be ready for the event that was set to be at 7pm.
I was home at 2pm.
I grabbed the duffle bag that was sitting atop my closet for God knew how long. I whack against the wall and all the dust came off in a cloud.
I shoved a few clothes from several drawers. Just the basics. Noah's jacket didn't fit in the duffle, so I straight up wore it. Then I grabbed my phone charger and wallet. That's when I realised I didn't have any money.
I looked around the living room for whatever change I could find. I found a few coins here and there, but not enough to buy a sock, let alone a gift for Noah's birthday.
I made my way to dad's room and carefully studied it. It looked way neater than I expected, if I were being honest.
It looked very much like a normal bedroom for a normal person. If only our bedrooms told our truths.
I rummaged through the cupboards, trying hard not to make it look like someone had gone through his stuff. He would undoubtedly kill me if he knew I went through his room.
Then when I reached the very last shelf, I found a box that I've never noticed around the house before. I've never even glimpsed it before. It was stashed between his shirts in what seemed to be a reckless manner.
So it must've been recently used.
I sat on the floor so I wouldn't leave any marks on the bed sheets.
With the box between my legs, I opened it to reveal a bunch of old photographs. It had a few of a younger looking dad. The pictures were tinted yellow with lots of frayed edges. Among them were recent pictures of him as a police officer. Another when he got promoted to deputy. I could already tell that he'll be placing a photograph from tonight's event here; of him replacing Major Alder as head of the police department.
Just as I was about to put the box away, it noticed something a little different, lurking between the stack of pictures.
A neatly folded piece of paper.
I take it in my fingers and gently open it.
I had always wondered if
You can't hold on to this
And it's always one letter
That tries but never reaches
And it always has been you
The one with the cold look
And I became attached for
You knew what you did to me
And you'd always meet me at
The spot where rose becomes vermilion
The poem was too beautiful and it wasn't even signed or tagged with a name, yet it felt too close to my heart to be a casual poem from a random passerby.
The slam of the front door made me jump off the floor. The box was closed and tucked back in its place faster than lightning.
I closed the cupboard door and turned to realise the paper was still on the floor. I snatched it and shoved it in my jacket pocket before ducking out of dad's room and back to mine.
"Kent?" dad yelled.
"Y- yes dad." I replied as calmly as possible, but my heart felt like it was gonna burst with panic. Where was Noah to make panic beautiful?
Dad soon is in my doorway, and I wasn't ready for what would happen. With him, I never knew. It could go from a scolding to yelling to a joke or a funny anecdote of something that happened at the station.
"You're all packed." He ponders. Shit. I forgot to hide my duffle bag. Shit. Shit. Shit. "How did you know?"
I didn't know, actually.
"What are you talking about?" It hurt me that he didn't even ask where I was or how have I been doing. Was I eating? Was I sleeping? Was I going to school? Was I feeling well?
"Did Karen call you?"
"Why would aunt Karen call me?"
"Then what are you all packed up for?"
The beating of my heart was very much audible at that point. "Oh I was just, I don't know. Cleaning up a bit. Sorting my clothes."
"Hmm," he didn't look like he believed any of my crap, which usually meant shit was about to go down.
But it didn't. For some weird reason, it didn't.
I knew he wasn't a changed person, and he definitely didn't find the guiding light.
I was such a fool for even thinking that he was being nice or accepting in any matter. It was all planned out.
Because the next thing I knew, he was driving us beyond Rivertown and across the state of Parkridge to my hometown. The hometown where Aunt Karen lived with her second husband. The place that didn't have Noah in it. The place dad called his home.
The place dad wanted me to finish school in and go to college in and have a life in.
Before I was in that car, I managed to scribble down a note.
A note that I tucked in the other pocket of Noah's jacket that wasn't going to be mine anymore.
I was no longer wearing it, for it was rolled in my lap.
And at the right time and the right speed, I threw the jacket with all the force I had, hoping it had landed where I wanted it to land.
The Grayson's front porche, where Noah will find the first thing he gave me, and the last thing I gave him.
A/N: Wow feels good to be back to writing.
The amount of reads has been through the roof. Thanks for everyone who never left the story and always came back for new chapters.
Like I said, I'll finsih this book no matter what, and it'll hopefully be good.
To my girlfriend, get better soonest and wellest ♡
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