☆Blaze☽
Chapter 17:
"I shouldn't have come." Mi turned to leave, and he was probably right. But yet I couldn't find it in myself to leave him like this, despite how awful he had been to me.
"Wait, Mi. You can come in." He looked almost shocked. His face was red and blotchy, and I could tell he was cold by the way he wrapped his arms around himself. I didn't understand what he was doing out so late in the cold.
"Thanks," he whispered. I could tell he was trying to contain his tears as he walked into my house but he just couldn't.
Forgiveness was probably my best and worst quality. I could forgive someone for anything, and I never held a grudge. If I tried to stay mad it would last about a day, and then I would forget what happened in the first place.
He stared at me for a minute and then he began to cry again. Like full-fledged-can't-breathe crying.
"I hit him," he blurted out. Mi threw his hands over his face and I tried to peel them away.
"Who? Who did you hit?"
'"Whiskey." I stop trying to get him to show his face and took a step back, putting plenty of distance between us. I stared at him in shock. I couldn't understand it. I should have yelled at him and told him to get out, but I was too curious. Did Whiskey tell Mi how he felt?
I didn't say anything; I just stood there and stared at him as he continued to cry. It was probably one of the weirdest experiences of my life, watching Mi cry. It was like seeing a skinny Santa Claus, or a submarine flying- it just didn't happen.
He tore his own hands from his face and looked back at me as I watched him.
"Why aren't you yelling at me? You're supposed to yell at me; I hit Whiskey." It should have sounded spiteful and angry, but the way he asked it was so sincere. Like he had come here to be yelled at; like that was what he wanted.
"Why did you hit him?"
Mi sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve. "It's a long story."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"When I got home, my mom had already been drinking. She always drinks though, so that really shouldn't have been surprising. She was yelling at me about the shoes I left in the hallway or something, I don't remember."
"We fought and then she told me to leave. So I did what I always do, I went to Whiskey's." I nodded as he spoke, feeling a tug at my heart strings as he spoke. He was impossible to understand no matter how hard we tried. Mi wasn't relatable to me.
"But Whiskey wasn't there. His sister, Gemma, let me in and I just decided I would wait for him. I saw him coming up the driveway, and he was with a guy. They were laughing and then he kissed him." I had to bite my lip to hold in my smile at that. I wondered if it was coffee store guy. I was glad that Whiskey was finally moving on to some degree. Liking Mi was dangerous, emotionally and physically, and I didn't want Whiskey to get hurt while I just watched.
"And then you punched him because he was gay?"
My shook his head and sucked in a long breath, wiping at his eyes periodically. "No. He came inside and we started fighting about it. I," he gulped and paused, looking up at the light fixture on the ceiling. "I called him a faggot."
I didn't reply; I wasn't surprised. I still flinched at the word though, I hated it. It was just a stupid derogatory term, and I didn't even understand how normal words are taken and the meaning is change so they are offensive. Faggot is a bundle of sticks, fag is a cigarette.
"He said I was weak, that I couldn't even stand up to my own mother yet went around taking it out on everyone else."
I knew I shouldn't be siding with Mi, I knew he was wrong for antagonizing Whiskey and punching him but I still couldn't believe Whisky had said that. He knew Mi's situation better than everyone, he was the one that took care of him and yet he basically said that Mi could stop it if he wanted. Whisky had to know that wasn't true.
"And then you punched him?" He nodded and hung his head, tears pooling in his eyes. He looked ashamed and embarrassed.
"You're not weak because you don't fight back against your mother."
He wiped at his eyes quickly as the tears fell, and I pretended not to notice. "But I am though. Whiskey's right, he's always right."
"She's your mother; you shouldn't have to fight against her."
"I don't have a choice."
"Everyone has a choice." I watched as emotions flickered in his eyes, and suddenly his temperament flipped. His eyes became aggravated and he clenched his fists.
"Why are you so goddamned nice to me? I'm horrible to you but you act like nothing happened."
"I'm just trying to understand you."
"Understanding me will only hurt you. I hurt everyone. I guess it's genetic."
"It's not genetic to hurt people. It's about self-control."
I could tell he didn't like what I had said. It was a lot easier to blame bad genes and the way you were taught then to actually take responsibility for what you did. He sucked in a breath and looked around, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I should go."
"Do you have anywhere to go?"
"Home, I guess. I have to go home eventually, and she's probably passed out now."
"I'm sorry, Mi." I reached out a hand to settle on his arm. He stiffened under my touch and turned so his head was facing away from me. He sniffled and looked up.
"Don't be. I shouldn't have come."
"I'm glad you did," I whispered honestly.
"Bye." And just like that he slipped outside and back into the night, off my porch and walking down the street in an instant.
I stood for a moment, shocked and confused, before running back up the stairs to grab my cell phone. I punched the number into my Blackberry and listened to it ring once before he answered.
His cocky voice sounded through the phone and I couldn't stop myself from smiling. "Have you reconsidered phone sex?"
I snorted and flipped back onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling. "No, you pervert. Mi just showed up at my house."
"What? Are you okay?" I heard some rustling, and his tone was full of concern.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied absent mindedly. I intertwined my fingers in my hair and I studied my ceiling, tuning out of the conversation and staring up at the cracks of paint. My ceiling was like Mi- full of cracks. All I would take is a big one and the whole structure would collapse.
"Do you want me to come over?"
"No, it wasn't like that. He was... crying."
Beatle chuckled in disbelieve. "Mi? Crying? No way."
"He was."
There was a long pause where neither of us knew what to say. It was something you had to let settle, because I knew if I had been told that I wouldn't believe him. I would be more inclined to believe that he had turned to stone then that he had broken his strong composure and came to someone's house to cry and regain it.
"Is he gone?"
"Yeah, just left."
There was another pregnant pause, and I already knew what he wanted to ask. Despite how he said that what had happened would make us cut ties from M and how much he said he hated him, we all knew it wasn't true. That's not how it worked. If it was then everyone would be so easily replaceable. They were more than just teenaged boys who bonded together over selling drugs, they were friends. They had each other's backs. "Was he okay?"
"Was Mi ever really okay?"
Beatle sucked in a breath and I could hear him grinding his teeth even through the phone. "I heard that he's been on heroin."
"I'm worried about him."
"There's nothing we can do. He's old enough to make his own choices. And why would you be worried about him?"
"Because I care."
"I don't know how you can still be so passive after everything he's done."
"How can I be angry when he comes to my door crying? He feels guilt; he's not a psychopath. And don't act for a second like you don't care about him."
"I do care, I just- I think I have to go."
"So, no phone sex?" I chuckled and there was a lot of rustling on his end. Suddenly, I heard Jill's voice coming through the receiver.
"Lennon, get off the phone! Robyn's trying to sleep."
"That's bullshit, Robyn never sleeps."
"Lennon..." It was a mixture between a threat and a warning, and then the line went dead. I laughed to myself and tucked myself into the covers, trying to sleep.
I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep though. I had too many things to think about. Like the fact that everyone knew I was gay now. This wouldn't have been an issue if I lived in a big city, but this was a small town. Everyone knew everyone else's business like it was possibly the most interesting thing in the world, and I was scared.
And then there was Mi. Broken, Mi. Who put up his strong defenses and scared everyone off.
Lastly, I was worried about Whiskey.
As my mind rolled my thoughts and worries around, I slowly found myself falling asleep.
☆☽
Sunday I had devoted to trying to catch up on everything in school I had been missing, but I soon realized how impossible that was. I had no idea what the concepts were, no less when we had learned them. I knew midterms were coming up, so I had to get the best possible marks to boost it up before Mom killed me.
But just like that, Sunday went and I was faced with Monday.
Now, don't get me wrong, I don't have anything against Monday's. In fact, Monday's are beautiful. A Monday is like starting over, tearing open a new page in your book of mistakes. And if there were no Monday's than the other days wouldn't feel so much better. You need contrast.
It was just this particular Monday. It had started to snow again, coming down in huge clumps that melted on the ground. Naturally, it was freezing cold. If this was an allusion to how the rest of my day went, I would have stayed home.
I stood in front of the school, shifting my weight between my feet and chewing on my gum. I placed it against my teeth and sucked in on it, resulting in a loud 'pop!'.
A firm hand settled on my shoulder and pushed me towards the doors.
"Just go in already!" Hayden yelled impatiently. His arms were crossed and his coat was drawn tight around his body.
"I don't feel well," I lied horribly. It was one of my other character flaws- I sucked at lying. Sometimes I could get away with it despite how unbelievable the lie seemed. I didn't know if that was because people felt bad for me and just went along with it or if it was because they actually believed me.
"Cut the crap, Elliot. You have to go to school eventually."
I knew he was right, but I would go eventually- I just didn't want to go today. I wanted to go tomorrow. And tomorrow I would say the same thing.
"I don't though. I could get a job, or join the circus- hell, I could just take the car and head for Alaska right now."
Hayden jokingly raised a hand to my face and tried to look threatening despite the fact he was several inches shorter than me. "I'm going to slap some sense into you if you don't get in there right now. "
"How are you in charge of me? I'm older than you."
"Yeah? Well you're not acting like it."
"Touché."
I glanced at the red brick building and did a quick once-over. This was what I had dreamed of all my life, going to high school, being a teenager. And now here I was, terrified. Why did anyone want to go to high school? What lies had I been fed that I believed it was a great place. It wasn't quite Mean Girls, but it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows either.
"Let's just go inside."
It wasn't really a suggestion and he used the hand on my back to push me inside the doors and into the building
I tried to ignore the side glances and whispers at first. It was completely possible they weren't about me, but my head would construe them to be no matter what. I was always a very self-conscious person. Whenever someone laughed I always felt like it was at me.
It became harder to pretend they weren't about me when I heard my name though, and Hayden's name. There was also the words 'gay' and 'punch' thrown in there. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what they were talking about.
Hayden left me at the stairwell to go to his class upstairs, and then I was alone.
People stared and sniggered at me as I walked to Physics, but no one actually said anything. I was hoping that would last. Maybe I had misjudged my school, maybe we were more modern then I thought.
☆☽
I had never taken more notes in my life. As I headed to lunch my hand was cramped from holding a pen and my back hurt from hunching over my desk. I needed to catch up. I couldn't let having friends be an excuse for my grades slipping anymore.
I was walking to the cafeteria when I saw Beatle sauntering down the hallway, completely carefree. He didn't notice everyone staring at us, and he smiled at me. I was pretty sure I had stopped dead in the hallway, forcing people to move around me, but I didn't care.
He stopped in front of me and smiled, hooking his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans. "Hey."
"Hi."
"Good day?"
"Eh. It's been okay." I shrugged and he nodded. A snicker sounded to the right of us, and Beatle's head snapped to the side.
It was the guy I had first sold weed to from the school, I couldn't remember his name. I recognized the familiar glasses and side swept brown hair. He laughed and looked at us with a raised eyebrow, almost challengingly.
"Got a problem?"
"Yeah, actually I do. It's disgusting and wrong."
"To talk to someone in the hallway?"
"To be gay."
Beatle just shrugged at first, like it didn't bother him. I might have believed him too, if he didn't push me up against the lockers and land his lips on mine right in that instant.
I wanted to be mad he was just kissing me to prove a point I didn't even understand, or to push him away for embarrassing me like this in the hallway, but I didn't. It could have meant serious trouble, at some point in freshman year someone got detention for kissing in front of the school. And we were in the school, not to mention the fact the school was probably just searching for a way to expel Beatle.
He moved his lips on mine and I responded. I put one hand on his arm in case I needed to pull away, and my eyes kept darting around us.
Eventually Beatle ended the kiss and looked towards the guy.
"You might want to hide your hard-on," Beatle said while smirking. He grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hallway. A few people had been discreetly watching us, but none to the point of gawking.
I pulled my hand away from his and glared at him. "Why did you do that?"
He simply shrugged and walked into the cafeteria, not providing me with an answer. I followed behind him to our usually table, lacking one person.
"No Mi?" I asked, sitting down next to Whiskey and across from Beatle.
"I don't know where he is, he wasn't in second period." Whiskey looked at the ceiling and then back down at the table, not making eye contact. The bruise was still visible on his face, a greenish yellow colour.
"Quit your worrying, Whiskey. Mi's fine." Trick bit into an apple loudly and clapped his hand on Whiskey's shoulder from across the table.
"I'm not worrying... I just..."
"Are worrying." Trick laughed and then I noticed Whiskey staring across the room toward two figures.
It was Hayden and the girl he had talked about. His arm was wrapped around her as they walked, and I didn't know how I felt about it.
"What is she doing with him?" Whiskey asked, his gaze still focused on Hayden. I looked at him confused.
"I don't know. Apparently my mom walked in on him and a girl last week. I asked him about it and he just told me it was a 'foxy redhead'."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I looked at him confused, but didn't answer. I noticed Trick look up to where Hayden was as he started to choke on a piece of his apple.
"What's wrong?"
"That's my sister."
Beatle began to laugh and Trick continued to choke.
**a/n don't really know what to say. I haven't edited this, so I may do that later. It's late now but I finished so, yay! this was basically just a huge race for me to see if I could update before my laptop died xD
If you like it you can vote &/or comment. Thanks :)