This is my first story I will post on Nifty. I hope you all like it. And send me some feedback --> KillerPizzaMonkey@yahoo.com
DISCLAIMER: Do not read uless you are legal. That means that you have to be at least 18 years old (or 21 in some areas, even thought I do not know where).
Chapter Three: Ophelia Speaks
By 9:20, I had flipped through "Josh's file" 3 times. Of course, they weren't Josh's files; but he didn't know that. They are really my files, what they send to college. Sean, Mel and I knew that Josh was listening in. The only thing more obvious than his eavesdropping was his unzipped fly. I hope Josh won't lose any sleep over it. My phone rang when I finished my English homework; I picked it up after the second ring. My friends know to let it ring once, hang up and call again. This was Josh he doesn't know our code.
"Hey lover." I said into the phone.
"Don't call me that." Josh told me, "Hey, I'm really sorry about today and about Monday. I haven't been myself lately and I really screwed up."
Hmmm . . . "Oh, it's cool, don't worry about it. I have off days too."
"Can you, uh, come over to my house tonight?" So, you can try and rape me again?
"Ummm . . . right now? I guess, why?"
"I want to tell you why I did what I did, and I don't feel comfortable doing it over the phone."
Ophelia speaks, I thought to myself. "Sure, I'll be there in five minutes."
"Alright, see you then."
"Bye," I hung up the phone and flipped through my clothes for a good outfit. In the car and listening to music, I sped down the highway to Josh's house and pulled into the gates. Josh was sitting by a window on the second story. When he saw me, he rushed downstairs to get the door before I knocked.
"Hey," Josh was out of breath, "come in."
Josh showed me up to his room. It was big, not as big as my room, maybe 35' by 20'. It was decorated with paintings, rather than posters. The paintings seemed to be random in nature, a flower here or a ship there. On his dresser were pictures, which is what caught my eye first. The first one was of Josh and some girl, maybe girlfriend or his sister; the second was a family portrait, in front of some landform. The third one however was of him and another boy, kissing.
"Who's this?" I picked up the picture to get a better look. He looked 16, 5' 6", blonde hair, blue eyes and European.
"That's Kyle," He fumbled around with something in his hands, a pack of cigarettes it looks like. "He was my first and only."
"Ouch," I placed the picture back where it was. "What are those?"
He held out his hand, cloves. "These? They're cloves, I was gonna ask you if you minded, I know you don't smoke."
"Go ahead," He lit a clove and I could smell its scent start to fill the air. I used to smoke once. But it became too much trouble, my money was being eaten through by the cost of packs. Occasionally someone will offer me a smoke and I'll accept, but that's it. "So, what did you have to tell me?" He inhaled deeply and let the smoke drift out with his words. "You know what I told you about Alameda? About how the shit hit the fan there?"
"Yeah, that was, like, the second thing you told me."
"Well, I want to tell you the whole story of what did happen." One more deep drag and he ground out his butt. "Kyle and I, we were friends for a long time. We knew each other since our mothers became friends. This was before Kindergarten, a year before he was born. They put us together to play as we were babies, enrolled us in the same schools, brought us to scouts when we were old enough. We were raised together and they had no clue. Kyle and I were inseparable. He was my best friend, but I fell in love with him. And Kyle didn't know. It was before my sophomore year in High school when I told him I had feelings for him. He said he was wondering too. We took it slow, our first kiss was three days later, we waited a week before school before we had sex, by that time, we were in deep.
"Of course, we were scared of anyone finding out. They would probably kill us. But they found out anyway, my ex-girlfriend got a hold of one of our little notes that we passed during class. It had both of our names on it, signed from Kyle to me. She told her friends and the told all of their friends. Kyle tried to deny that he was going out with me, that the note was just a little prank. I was the fag, he said, it was me that was in love with him. But everyone in the school knew that he was gay too. I took Kyle back, even though he tried to totally detach himself from me; I didn't have anyone else.
"The staff turned their heads when the shit started. First, it was the little stuff, a word here or there. Then it got worse, gay porno was glued on my locker, FAG was written across Kyle's locker. In the mall, people would just come up to my friends and me and start fights. Kyle's parents were run off the road, my parents were threatened. After a party, that he and I went to, people from our school, followed us to Kyle's house and beat on the doors and windows. They hated us, us and our parents.
"They stopped though, a few weeks went by without anything much happening. I guess it was just the calm of the storm. One night, three weeks later, I got a call from Kyle, he said they were burning down his house. I asked him who and he said that there were around 50 people, lightening the house and having a party. There was background noise on the line, like people shouting. He said he had to go and meet him at Krusi Park. He was there with his family, they had packs and he said they were going to the train station in Oakland, that they were going to get tickets to go move to Portland.
"I went with him, to Portland, for a week. Just to see that they got a good place and that Kyle was safe. While I was there though, they all treated me bad. His mom, who was totally cool with us started to yell at Kyle and me. His dad would go out and drink, he never used to do that; when he would come home railed, he would hit us, as if I was one of his. Kyle would blame me for everything that had happened. He would say demeaning things about me, he bet me more than once. I don't know why I took it. I could have just used the rest of my money and left back to Alameda. But I took it anyway. Then there was a big fight, they turned against me and I left. I went to the train station and left that night. I never talked to him again." Wow, that's deep, I thought. "How long ago was this?"
"Last year, at in Alameda." He took a deep breath and tried to calm his shaking hands.
"When did you move out here?"
"Right when it happened."
"Oh, that's a long time to be out of school."
"My parents hired a private tutor for me."
That makes sense, get freaked out, spend a little time by yourself for a while. "Oh."
"And . . . I was scared-you know- scared to come back to school. People here might have heard about me."
"And this all affects you giving me a nasty-ass bruise . . . why?"
"I-I was . . ." He stammered.
"Scared? Angry? Humiliated? Weirded out?"
"I don't know."
"Com'on, man, you have to know."
"No, I don't."
A strange feeling hit me, right in the gut. It was one of those, time to leave, feelings. "Alright, I'm really sorry about Alameda and I'd really love to talk more . . ." I said heading towards the door, "But I really need to go now."
Josh looked a little sad to see me leave. God damn, I was so incredibly scared of him become Mr. Axe-Welding-Psycho-Killer. Silly, I know, I could drop his ass in a second, but I didn't even want the opportunity.
"I was wondering if you could stay the night. Unless, you have other plans . . ."
Should I stay or should I go? "I don't know . . ."
"Com'on, I swear I won't try to do anything. Just stay over please?"
"Yeah, sure. But I have to get my stuff. And no funny business, man!"
"I'll be here."
Driving down "Spooky Lane", I thought about just leaving him and not coming back. My gut told me not to stay, but my brains told me that there was nothing to worry about. There was a night bag in the trunk, but I wanted some time to think. Still, that feeling was there. After 10 minutes, I decided on staying. After all, what can Josh do? He's broken right now.
"Hey," Josh said at the door.
"Hi."
"I thought you weren't going to come back."
"I said I would, didn't I?"
"Yeah," He smiled, "You did."
I looked around the house, this huge house and everything was quiet. Nothing was happening, no dishwasher, no T.V., no music, not even a leaky sink. That's so strange.
I must have zoned out.
"Are you okay, Zach?" Josh shook me a little bit. "You were standing there for a while without saying anything."
"Oh sorry, I was thinking of something."
"What?"
"Don't worry about it."
"So . . . what do you want to do?"
"I don't know," I looked sideways at him, at his eyes, reading him. What is he thinking?
"How about watching those movies?"
"I'd like that."
Josh pulled me into a room that held a big screen T.V. and speakers all around the room. On a coffee table in the middle of the room, was a stack of videos: Boondock Saints, Edge of Seventeen and Fight Club. He must have gone through the other videos last night and brought them back. Or, he never rented them. Does that mean that we would go out and rent them? Or that he had completely different plans? Before I could ask Josh about it, he had loaded the tape and the movie had started. Enough of this bullshit, Zach. You're here, he said sorry. The tapes are on the coffee table, just focus on now. So, I sucked it up and sat next to Josh. He eyed me, and moved over closer.
The first movie was Fight Club, the movie that I had to watch three times just to understand. But it was still enjoyable; maybe because of the company. I've tried not to think about it, but I still really like Josh. As long as he doesn't become an axe-welding-psycho-killer. Towards the end, I started getting confused again, it was almost midnight and I was really tired. So, I rest my head in Josh's lap. I felt the muscles in his leg twitching underneath my head. After a minute or two of him trying to ignore my head in his lap, he started to stroke my hair. We sat there watching the end of Fight Club.
Looking up into Josh's eyes and I smiled. "I'm glad you came around, Josh."
"I'm glad to have someone like you to make me."
He leaned down a left a little kiss on my lips, like he was afraid. I kissed him back softly. God, I am so tired. "Let's go to sleep, okay?"
"Alright." Josh took my hand and slowly led me to his bed. He was so gentle, when we walked his hand was around my waist, almost as if we were waltzing. After I was on his bed, he skidded around the house turning off lights and locking doors. Before he turned of my light, he gave me a little kiss on the check. "I still want to be your boyfriend."
"So do I."
Another kiss, that led to another, which led to another. This time, we didn't do anything very sexual. We lay for 10 minutes kissing and groping.
"Easy there," I told him.
"What?"
"Let's do this some other time, okay? I want to get to sleep. School tomorrow and I didn't get any sleep last night."
"I'm sorry."
"You didn't do anything wrong, let's just go to sleep." Few minutes after we stopped talking, I heard Josh's voice. "Zach?"
Com'on! I'm trying not to jump your bones! "Yeah?"
"Could you hold me?"
"Umm, yeah, sure."
Damn, what the hell did Kyle do to this boy? I wrapped my arms around Josh, holding him close to me. His heart was beating hard, I could feel it through the material of his shirt. I could feel his every breath, it felt so good holding him.
"Don't worry, just go to sleep."
"Thanks, Zach."
"For what?"
"Understanding," He added, "I really like you"
"I like you too, Josh."
That's it. Send me some feedback at KillerPizzaMonkey@yahoo.com Or you can visit my wesbite at http://th380y.net