Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. It depicts a romance between two consenting adult males and may contain some descriptions of sexual act between two consenting adult males. If you are not of legal age to read this kind of story, please leave now. If you reside in area where reading stories that include sexual situations between two consenting adult males are illegal, please leave now. This story is for entertainment purposes only. Any similarity to any person(s) living or dead is simply a coincidence. The author retains all rights to this story. It cannot be reproduced in any form without expressed written permission from the author (me). Please contact the author for any requests at raspucin70@yahoo.com. Copyright 2007
Chapter 15: Wolf like me
(Hayden's point of view)
I woke up with a piercing headache. I was still lying in bed when I realized that it was the headache that woke me up. I opened one eye, and immediately shut it again. The sun was filling the room, making everything bright. Painfully bright. It was not just a headache that I was experiencing. Nausea, accompanied by vertigo, was completing the picture for this morning. Feeling disgusted at myself, I sat up in bed and put my feet on the floor. Immediately, I felt as if my head was going to explode. The pain in my skull was shooting from my eyes into the back of my head, and it seemed like it was echoing inside. Rubbing my temples seemed to help, at least for a bit, so I looked around.
Pink. The whole room was dressed up in shades of pink: the curtains, the walls, and the bedspread. Even the nightstand was painted in pink and white, to complete the picture. Where the hell was I?
I looked around, squinting. It was a girl's bedroom, no doubt about that. There were a whole bunch of stuffed animals on the dresser and on the shelves, along with some other items typical for female rooms: posters of singers, bottles of make-up, and pictures on the work desk. It must be Courtney's room that I woke up in. I stood up and immediately regretted my decision. The throbbing in my head was replaced with searing pain, connecting the dots between my eyes and my spine. The room was moving in every which way, doing everything but stand still. My eyes were burning, and I could only look around if I squinted. Then I realized something else - I was completely naked! I looked around the room, searching for my clothes. I found my jeans, smushed in a pile next to the door; and soon after I discovered my boxers, hiding below the bed, but I couldn't find my shirt. I dressed up, noticing unmistakable traces of heavy play that had been going on the previous night. There were scratches on my chest and abdomen, and traces of lipstick on my boxers, as if someone had taken them off with their mouth. And my organ looked like it had some battle scars and blotches as well. I sighed. Years ago I would have proudly worn those marks; now I just felt tired and sick. I knew what happened. I had got so wasted that I couldn't remember anything at all from last night. Memories from several occasions were mixing in my head, making it difficult to distinguish which ones were from last night and which ones were from a week ago. Why had I been drinking?
I sat back on the bed, holding my pounding head in my hands.
Oh, yes. The game. Our college team made it into the playoffs, so that was what we were celebrating. Courtney, Scott and I, and some other chick that Scott was dating, went to a local sports bar where we watched the game last night. Scott ordered a pitcher of beer; I got the second one, Courtney insisted to pay for the third...in the mean time someone got the bright idea to start toasting for every point that our team scored with shots of tequila and God knows what else...I didn't remember any of the game aftermaths.
"Nice, real nice, Hayden," I said to myself, bitterly. Years of work gone down the drain. I wasn't pissed at the fact that I had gone out with my friends, or that I had had a couple of beers. I was disappointed at myself for not having stopped drinking when I realized that I was getting too drunk, which is normally the case. I got up from the bed, and looked around for my shirt. I found it on the shelf above the bed, hanging off of one of the teddy bears. I retrieved it and tried to put it on, but only then realized that it was torn, almost in half. What the hell had gone on here last night?
With the shirt leftovers in my hand, my eyes caught sight of a row of pictures on the shelf.
Pictures of a girl receiving a diploma. The same girl, on the beach, smiling for the camera. The same girl, with friends at the bar, having a good time.
"Oh shit." I uttered.
The girl in the pictures was not Courtney.
The girl in the picture was a red head, with a slim, almost skinny body. Green eyes framed a face with a somewhat long nose. Definitively not my type.
If I had felt lousy earlier, now I was feeling really shitty. So, I had been putting Courtney off for weeks, and then I took this other girl with me. Or, more precisely, she took me to her place. I shook my head, cringing through the headache.
"You've done it now, Hayden. Back to the old routine, hurting yourself and other people," I mumbled, walking towards the door.
I knew the routine too well. It had been a part of me for so very long - I was just amazed at how little it took for me to get back into it. One night and it was all gone. Shit.
When I walked into the kitchen, I realized that I was not alone in the apartment. The girl from the pictures was in the living room, sipping coffee and watching TV. When she spotted me, she stood up and came up to me with a smile. I felt really stupid and embarrassed, walking around shirtless with the tattered shirt in my hand - and not even knowing her name.
"Hey stud," she said, in a really seductive tone of voice, and gave me one long look from head to toe. "It looks like you lost your shirt playing here last night, huh?" she continued, tracing lightly with her fingernail across my back as she walked up behind me. I could only mumble something in the response.
"You want some coffee?" she asked, more seriously now.
"Yes, thank you," I answered, hoping that that would help the headache.
"Here you go," she said, placing the mug on the kitchen table. I sat down, almost collapsing on the chair.
"Rough night, sweetie?" she continued with her amorous tone: "I can make you some breakfast, so you can recover faster."
"Um, that would be great, thank you," I replied. I was still feeling nauseated, but hungry at the same time. I closed my eyes which were still burning.
A couple of minutes later I heard the clatter of the plate placed in front of me, and at the same time a hand came down on my shoulder. I opened my eyes. She smiled at me, and then sat across the table. I looked at my food. She managed to scrounge a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
"Wow, she is a real keeper," I thought to myself sarcastically, but I still took a bite.
"Hey, listen...I hope that this doesn't sound too pushy, but..." she was tracing circles on the table with her finger. "When you...I mean, if you ever...break up with Courtney...I want to know if you would be interested in going out with me from time to time."
Oh, here we go. She had a one-nigh stand with me, and the word "relationship" is already rearing its ugly head. I started to feel stuck in the corner.
"I don't know," I answered, realizing that that was the closest I could get to the truth right now.
"I mean...it doesn't have to be a commitment or anything...I was just wondering if I can count on your...services," she finished, looking me seductively over the table.
The food in my mouth lost its taste. I felt disgusted. As if it weren't bad enough that I had cheated my girlfriend with her last night, now I started to feel like a human dildo. My jaw clenched and my blood started to boil. "That's it," I thought, "shirt or no shirt, I'm gonna walk out of here this second." I opened my mouth to say something really nasty back to her, when I heard the front door close. One moment later, Courtney walked in the kitchen.
Shit. You could knock me with one finger.
"Hey, Hayden," she said, kissing me.
"Hey," I said, as neutrally as I could.
"I see Linda made you breakfast. I thought I would have the honor," she laughed.
"This is getting weirder by the minute," I thought to myself. "I'm sitting here shirtless with my last nights "what's-her-name", and my girlfriend walks in acting all casual about it?"
"I got you new sheets...sorry about last night. I tried to tell him it was not my room, but he was just not listening," Courtney was talking to Linda over her shoulder, pouring coffee for herself.
I barely managed to conceal a sigh of relief.
"You better be...you guys kept me up all night! I never heard Courtney scream like that before! On, and on, and on!" Linda laughed boisterously.
I was just sitting there, still too stunned to be embarrassed about it.
"Okay, that's enough now. Scram!" Courtney shushed Linda away in mock anger, and then sat down at the table.
"Are you feeling ok?" she asked quietly, placing her hand on my forearm. I sighed.
"Much better now, thank you. The midget in my head is adamant about remodeling my brain with a hammer, but I'll be fine," I replied with a faint smile.
Courtney smiled back, just looking at me. I sipped my coffee, noticing that there was some tension in the room.
"Did I drive here last night, or..." I asked her.
"No, we took my car. You were in no condition to sit straight, let alone walk or drive."
"Sorry...I don't normally drink that much," I replied, embarrassed.
"Yeah, I could tell...Scott was pretty surprised himself."
"Oh, great, now I will never live to hear the end of it," I groaned.
Linda came back into the kitchen. She was dressed up, with make up and some cheap perfume that was lingering behind her.
"Bye, guys. I'm off to work. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," she said, and actually winked at me. I couldn't believe my eyes!
"Wow, your roommate is really something," I said after she left, taking another sip of my coffee.
"Well, this is her place, so I'm putting up with it in exchange for cheap rent. We get along well and, since we have different schedules, I don't see her that much."
I nodded my head in response. For several minutes we just sat quietly. I was musing over how to get back home, and the fact that I had missed the workout with Matt again. Luckily, I remembered sending him a text message last night that I wouldn't be able to make it. At least I had enough brain for that much.
Courtney shifted in her chair across the table from me.
"Hayden, we need to talk." she spoke, almost hesitantly.
I nodded my head, feeling that something was going to happen. You don't ask something like that, especially not this early in the morning. The tension in the room was almost palpable. Was it going to be about Linda and her indecent proposal?
"Is Matt...What does Matt mean to you?" she asked me, looking somewhat distressed
I raised my eyebrows. I was definitively not prepared for that question. "He is...a friend, someone whom I met here on campus when the semester started," I replied, not sure where this was going.
"Yeah, I know that, but...do you like him?"
I looked at her, even more confused. "Um, yes, I do - I think he is really ok, just a little shy. Why do you ask?"
Courtney didn't respond immediately. She was biting her lip, and then she looked back at me: "Do you..." she diverted her eyes to the side. A sigh escaped her lungs, and then she looked me straight in the eyes with what seemed like newly-found determination:
"Are you in love with him?"
I looked at her blankly. "Huh?"
"Do you love him?" she repeated, this time with no hesitation in her voice.
I could only look at her across the table. I simply didn't know what to say, or not to say.
"I..." My mind was drawing a blank. Courtney was still looking at me, but her gaze was different. It was mixture of feelings that I couldn't read. I hung my head.
"I don't know. I think I do," I whispered.
That was the only thing I could say at that moment. I didn't have any hesitation about telling the truth to Courtney. I just simply couldn't lie to her.
The silence in the room was deafening. It wasn't just that I had revealed to Courtney my feelings toward Matt; I had also revealed them to myself at the same time. Never before had I consciously admitted it as I had just done it now. And the more I thought about it, the more jumbled my mind was becoming.
A hand came across the table and gently took hold of mine. "Hayden, look at me."
I raised my head. Courtney was looking at me, with the same mixture of feelings in her eyes, but this time it was even more compassionate.
"It's okay. I understand." She said, simply.
"What..." I said, feeling stupefied.
"Its okay. I was not sure, and I had my doubts. But, last night when you were with me, you...yelled his name," she finished.
I felt my cheeks started to burn. "I'm...sorry. I...didn't mean to hurt you. That's why I..."
"That's why you were constantly placing some distance between me and you. Because you weren't sure yourself. And you were trying to protect me, not counting that I didn't want to wait," she finished.
My mouth was hanging open now.
"Wow...I...I don't know what to say. I'm sorry, Courtney. You don't deserve this. I...should fix this myself and..."
"No, Hayden! I've seen how you act around Matt. I've seen how you look at him in the cafeteria. That is the look of someone who has found someone special. I am not going to let you dismiss that. I want you to be happy. If that means that you want to be with Matt, then I want you to be with him! I love you very much, but I can see that you won't be happy with me, or anybody else but him. That's why I am going to say this to you: go and be happy! Do you understand?"
I could only look at her. Words were unnecessary at this moment. I wanted to say something, to thank her, but nothing was coming to my mind that was worth saying. I could only grip her hand more firmly in the response. A smile came upon her lips.
"Now, do you want some real breakfast? 'Cause, after last night, I need more than peanut butter and jelly...and I'm sure you do, too," she said and stood away from the table.
I just sat there for a minute, trying to get my brain in gear to process all the stuff from this morning. I turned my head, looking at her getting some stuff out of the fridge. She shot me a smile. In a second, I realized that I owed her more than silent gratitude. I jumped on my feet and embraced her gently in a tight, friendly hug. She clasped her hands around my neck, and for a moment we just stood there while she was stroking my back and my neck. I could sense that she was on the verge of breaking down into crying. I forced her gently to look at me, and then I placed a long, gentle kiss on her lips.
"Thank you." That was all that I said.
She sighed, and buried her head on my naked chest. And then she chuckled:
"Wow, that was the best sex I had in years...and it was from the guy that I just dispatched to seek his boyfriend."
I didn't laugh. I wasn't ready for gay jokes, or embracing publicly that part of me. Courtney must have sensed that:
"Hayden...you don't have to worry about me telling anybody... "
"I know."
"I will miss you," she said, pulling herself away enough to look up to me.
"I'm not going anywhere," I said. "I still want to remain your friend...I really like you, and just because we cannot be together, it doesn't mean that we cannot be friends."
A tear escaped her eye. She quickly wiped it off, and smiled:
"Does that mean that we can remain friends...with benefits?" she said, placing her finger on my lips, while pushing her hips into mine.
I smiled silently, and then a thought flashed trough my head: "There is only one problem with all this," I sighed.
"What?" Courtney looked up to me, but I was looking away, somewhere over her head.
"Matt is not gay," I said bitterly.
"What? But I thought..."
"No. He has a girlfriend, back home in Kansas. Plus, he took Jessie home that night after party. They were all over each other at the party. He is not gay." I finished, feeling more and more embarrassed, talking about him so openly.
"Oh," said Courtney, and continued in the whole different scale of emotion in her voice: "Oh...but I thought...it's just something about him..." she didn't finish.
"No. He is actually going to break up with his Kansas girl - he has found a new one here, and he is in love over his head with her," I said bitterly.
"Are you...sure about that?" she asked me slowly.
I looked at her. All of the sudden, I wasn't. I shook my head. No, it couldn't be...
"Yes, I'm sure," I said, not sounding very convincing even to myself.
(Matt's point of view)
"Mary! What in the world are you doing here?" I almost screamed.
"Well, since you aren't coming home for the break, I thought I'd better check on you," she said as I hugged her, still standing in my doorway.
"Ok, but seriously...what made you come all the way here? Is everything all right?" I asked worriedly.
"No, silly, everything is fine! Can't a friend surprise a friend? Or am I all of the sudden not allowed in your so called 'college life'? Or...are you hiding anyone in here?" she finished, looking over my shoulder jokingly...but still looking, nevertheless.
"Mary! For the love of...oh, I give up with you. I already told you - as well as my parents- that I need to talk to my advisor and finish with some paperwork. When I'm done with those, I will be back home. So why is everybody panicking over that?" I frowned, carrying her bag in.
"Oh, as if you don't know. 'Little Matty' is gone from home, and your parents are just a little bit out of their mind. You have to understand them, Matt," she finished seriously.
"Oh, I know, I know. But still...a rescue party?" I pointed at her.
She shrugged her shoulders, and then laughed: "It's only for a day. I have to be back at work on Wednesday, so I have to leave tomorrow."
Now she was looking around my sparsely furnished apartment: "So, this is home away from home, huh? Impressive, really classy. A pile of laundry on a couch...your drawing block on the floor with pens scattered all over - very 'In-Vogue' ...and I see that you haven't found a proper place to display the Picasso yet, huh?" she mocked me. God how I missed her!
"Hey, I'm a college student now. I can be a pig if I want to, Mother!" I said, emphasizing last word, while collecting all my junk and dumping it in the closet. We both sat down next to each other, relaxing. For the next several hours, we continued to talk and to haze each other. She didn't miss the opportunity to tell me that I looked like crap, and that I should eat better, so we went out to the local pizza place for a "proper meal". I showed her around a little bit, then we went back to my place. Mary wanted to go and get a hotel room for herself, but I insisted on her staying over; my queen-size bed was big enough for both of us. We stayed up until very late, talking and laughing, reminiscing about old times and stuff that was going on back home. She was very careful not to ask me about Nicki immediately, but it was inevitable that he would come up in our conversation.
"So, with the semester finally over...do you have more time for fun stuff?" she asked me in the most innocent way.
"Oh, c'mon! As if I didn't know the true nature of your little inquiry! Was it my mom who sent you on a 'Where's Hayden?' quest?" I laughed.
"No, no, this time it is genuinely me who is asking...Soooooo?" she continued.
"Nothing to tell, really...both of us have been very busy with the end of the semester and all, so we didn't have too much time to hang out. He did invite me to watch movies at his place a couple of weeks ago, and he threw a party to celebrate the end of the semester at his place, but that was it. In between, we hardly saw each other. And to answer your question, if something was maybe looking like it possibly, maybe, perhaps, one-in-a-million chance might happen...the answer is - no. Just as you said, he is remaining friendly, pretty much on the same level - no more, no less. And I'm fine with it." I finished.
Mary was looking at me. She was looking at me as if she were looking into me, for a very long time.
"No, you are not fine with it," she said, slowly shaking her head.
I looked at her, but I couldn't say anything. She knew me well, and I couldn't lie to her.
After that, we just watched TV for a while, and went to bed. I stayed awake for a long time, staring at the ceiling. Mary's presence didn't bother me one bit - after all, she was as close to a big sister as any person could be. It was what she said that bothered me.
No, I am not fine with where I am with Hayden.
(Hayden's point of view)
6:20. I was done warming up on the treadmill and now I was running at full pace - but where is Matt? He is never this late! Every day fro the last month or so we arrived within minutes of each other, and now suddenly he was running late. I ran for another five minutes, then the apprehension growing inside me made me dismount the treadmill. Of course, I'd left my cell phone at my house, since I had jogged here. Crap. I exited the gym, not quite sure what to do. If he were sick, he would have called to tell me that he would skip the workout - but how was I supposed to know that? That would be the better scenario. The worse scenario would be...does he want to work out with me at all anymore? No, I didn't want to think about that right now. I broke into a run. It was close to 7 when I reached my house and almost busted the door trying to get in a hurry. My cell phone was in the same place as I had left it - charging on the kitchen counter. There were no missed calls or messages. I stood in the kitchen, breathing heavily. Now what? I dialed his number and waited for long time, listening to it ring on the other side. The sweat was dripping from me, leaving droplets on the kitchen floor. Eventually, his voice mail picked up. I closed the phone. Now I knew I needed to go over there.
His place was only fifteen minutes away if I jogged, but I decided to take my car anyway. I got there in less than five minutes and ran up the stairs to his apartment. With my heart beating in my throat, I knocked on the door. Several moments passed with nothing happening. I knocked again, harder. This time I could hear footsteps, and finally I heard the door unlock. Matt opened the door. I tried to act as calmly as possible, but my voice betrayed me:
"Hey man...is everything all right? You didn't show at the gym this morning so I was getting worried that something might have happened to you," I blurted, trying to breathe evenly and speak at the same time.
He blinked in the morning light several times, then his eyes opened wide: "Holy cow! I totally spaced out! The gym - oh, I'm sorry man, how could I forget!" the sleep from his eyes disappeared instantly.
"No, it's fine, as long as you're okay. I tried to call you some time ago, but you didn't answer," I replied, now much more calm. Matt was fine - he just overslept. Still, my heart was continuing to beat hard in my chest.
"Yeah, the battery is probably dead and -"
At that moment I caught a movement behind him. The way his apartment was organized, I could see straight into it from the front door, including the place where his bed was. And the fact that there was someone in it. Someone who briefly lifted her head, then sleepily dropped it back on the pillow. Brunette, with a wavy long hair.
"- and we got to bed late so I overslept and -"
Matt was still talking to me, but I couldn't hear his words. Blood was humming through my ears with a deafening noise, and I felt dizzy, as if I was about to faint. I tried to collect myself, but it was not working. My mind was scattered, and it felt as thought something in my head had just exploded in my head.
"-but I can get ready in just a few, if you give me a moment-"
My brain finally kicked back in the gear.
"Nah, man, its okay. It looks like you have better things to do this morning," I smiled at him, nodding towards his bed. He turned around, with a confused look on his face, then he tried to mutter something, but I interrupted:
"Really, it's okay. I understand. Don't worry about it. Take care of things here, we can always go to the gym later." I shot him a smile with "Thumbs up" sign and then I walked away.
I ran. I ran all the way back to my home, not even knowing how I got there. Now I was standing in the hallway, breathing heavily, with my eyes closed while emotions were fighting in me. I felt as if someone had ripped a hole right through me. I clenched my fists, trying to fight it off - the feeling of being cheated of something, of something that I didn't even have. Something I never had. Something I never could have.
In a swift and powerful motion, I swung my fist straight into the wall next to me. The fragile drywall gave in with a thunderous crack, leaving a baseball-sized hole behind, and a cloud of dust lingering in the air. I didn't care. I was still just standing there, with all my muscles trembling. I felt drained and empty, but all my resentment and bitterness were still there, only more concentrated and more potent. I staggered into the living room and collapsed on the couch.
I felt nothing anymore. It was all blank inside of me.
(Matt's point of view)
"He is not answering, Mary," I cried in despair, closing my phone. Both of us were sitting at my table, which was serving as kitchen, dining and study desk, pondering the bizarre event from this morning. When Hayden bolted from my place, I was still too asleep to think through what had happened. All I knew was that he thought that I had ditched him for some one-night stand, and didn't even bother to call him to cancel the workout. I had been sitting at my desk for almost an hour before Mary got up. At first, she got a kick out of it, but soon she stopped laughing when she realized how concerned I was about the whole thing.
"Well, I guess you need to call him and explain everything. Maybe we can meet at that pizza place and have lunch, and you can explain why you were late. I mean, I feel responsible for it, too, since I made a mess out of your day last night," she suggested, but I shook my head in disapproval.
"No, I have to think about something else to fix this. I think I really pissed him off this time. You have to understand that he went out on a limb for me many times, and I always managed to be a jerk to him in return. This time I think I did it for the last time," I finished.
"Wait...is this the same Hayden that you said is 'just being really friendly with me'?" Mary asked me.
I nodded slowly.
"And he was so worried about you not showing up this morning that he came all the way here to check on you?"
I nodded again.
She sighed: "Wow...maybe you are right about 'screwing up big time' then."
I hung my head. Shit, how come I always fuck things up? And how come it's always, always with Nicki, the only person that I don't want to fuck things up with? I growled in despair.
Mary mumbled something in response, then went to the bathroom, leaving me with my thoughts.
And there was something else that I noticed that morning, that I couldn't quite tell even Mary, the person whom I could always tell everything.
When Hayden looked back at me after spotting Mary in my bed, for the first time in all the time that I'd known him, I saw something different in his eyes.
He was hurt.
I wasn't even sure that I read the expression in his eyes the way I interpreted it; it was something that I had never seen in him. Was it really that? Or, was it just an indication of anger? I couldn't be sure, and that's why I didn't want to tell Mary about it. At least not yet. I was definitely not sure what to think about it. Maybe he was hurt in a way because I had abandoned him; maybe he was just letting his anger show? I couldn't tell, and it was tearing me apart. I simply did not know Hayden well enough to tell the difference. I was still playing with my phone, toying with the idea of calling him again and leaving a message this time, or going over there myself. Mary came back into the room
"Do you want some breakfast?"
"No, not really," I answered. I was not in the mood to eat anything.
"Matt...I know this is not really my business...but you need to fix things up with Hayden. It seems that you two have something special going on, regardless of whether it's just a friendship or not. Do not spoil it over some stupid confusion like this. If you want me to, I can call him up and explain who I am and what I was doing in your bed this morning, although I don't think he exactly minded that you were having company. I believe that he got upset because you ditched him more than everything else and..."
Mary stopped in the middle of her sentence when she saw that something was happening with me, something that I couldn't hide. I started to tremble and I just couldn't hold it anymore. Words started to spill out of me in a flood. About how much I am not okay. About how much I am actually falling apart, not being able to be with him. About how I'm contemplating dropping out of school and going back home. And the amount of pain and anguish that I'm going through, having something that I thought should be beautiful, and instead is tearing me apart.
Mary was taken aback with my outburst. She saw that I was on the verge of tears, her little Matthew. "And Hayden...doesn't suspect anything?" she asked me gently
""No...he is being his usual self. Sometimes he hugs me, and sometimes he does something that leads me to think that there may be something else, but I don't want to lead myself astray, you know what I mean?"
Mary bowed her head. I knew that we had reached end of any further reasoning. There was nothing more that we could rationalize about this. I was in love with someone that I couldn't have.
"I think you should talk to him," she said, looking back at me.
I shook my head:
"No. I played that scenario over and over in my head, and decided not to. I don't want him to know. I would rather go back home."
"That sounds really unfair...to him."
"Yeah, I know. And cowardly. And it's a shitty way to deal with all this. I was thinking that when I'm back home, I could email him, or call him, or..." I couldn't finish.
"But, in essence, it boils down to the fact that you would rather run away than face him."
"Yes! I know its just shoving it under the carpet, but I cannot think of any other way to deal with this. And, in any case, he is probably mad at me for ditching him this morning."
"Yeah, you should call him, at least about that," Mary agreed.
I nodded, but I was still battling the confusion in my own mind. I knew only one thing: I needed to talk to him, as soon as possible. The thought of Nicki being mad at me was too disturbing. I pondered for a second about what I had to do today. I had to meet with one of advisers in the afternoon, but otherwise I was free.
"I will try to call him later, or go to his place after I go to school," I said to Mary with determination.
"Cool...that sounds like a plan. If you need me to talk to him or do whatever, please let me know. I will be driving, so I will have plenty of time to talk to any of you guys, ok?" she said, looking at me with encouragement.
"Well now. I'll make something to eat for both of us, and I won't take no for an answer this time. Okay?" she pretended to sound harsh.
I nodded, softly. I helped her make breakfast for both of us, and then she packed her bag. I was really sad to see her leave. She was my rock in the storm, my life line, and now she was leaving. It made me feel very lonely, and I couldn't hold back from telling her that:
"First Nicki...and now you are leaving me, too," I said with a pathetic, puppy-eyed look in my eyes. Mary laughed for a second, then she hugged me.
"It's gonna be ok, kiddo...I can feel it. Just hang in there. And do not hesitate to call me, okay?"
"Okay...aunt-Mary," I replied. I started to feel a little better now. I grabbed her bag and opened the door, and then we started to go downstairs towards her car.
I stopped in the middle of the staircase so abruptly that Mary almost ran into me.
"That's...Hayden's car!" I said, looking at the white Golf parked somewhat awkwardly in front of the house. I ran downstairs to it - it was indeed his car. I looked in it with anticipation, but there was nobody in it. Mary joined me on the sidewalk, while I was getting more and more confused.
"If this is his car...that means he drove here this morning...but walked when he left," she said.
I nodded absentmindedly, still trying to comprehend why he had left his car here. There was no reason for it - and this was his usual ride to school. I tried to make some sense by thinking out loud: "I dunno...he does have two cars...and the bike...but he still must have walked from here...unless someone picked him up, which also makes no sense at all." I was shaking my head, not being able to grasp the logic behind any of this.
"Was he drunk? Was he looking ok to you?" Mary asked.
"Yes, and yes...as usual; he doesn't drink," I replied, still confused. In a sudden moment of clarity, I grabbed my cell phone and dialed his number again. I glanced over to Mary - she was looking worried too. I had to look away - I didn't wanted her to see how frazzled I was. Did something happen to him?
I could hear a heavy metal song going on somewhere in the distance. I was so preoccupied by listening to the phone ringing in my ear that I gasped with surprise when Mary came over and pointed at Hayden's cell phone ringing on the passenger seat.
Shit. That's why he was not answering.
With a sigh, I closed my phone. The nervousness in me was rising at an alarming pace. I looked over at Mary, and she read my thoughts in a flash:
"Let's go," she said simply.
We were at Hayden's place in a couple minutes. I ran up the porch stairs and knocked on the door several times. Several moments passed, so I knocked again. No answer. The house looked empty.
"You mentioned that he has two cars?" I could hear Mary asking me.
"Yeah, he has a big black one, a Cadillac I think. And a motorcycle" I answered while trying to peak into the house through frosted glass on the door.
"So...he could be anywhere right now," concluded Mary.
I walked back to her, not knowing what to do. It was getting close to ten, and I had to get ready to go to school soon.
"You need to get going. You have a long trip ahead of you," I said to her, so we drove back to my place. After saying our goodbyes again. I hugged her while she ruffled my hair in a playful motion:
"Take care, kiddo. Come back home soon, when you finish with all that school stuff. And...let me know what happened with Hayden...I feel guilty over this whole mess. I feel that it will resolve soon, I just know it. Let me know, okay?"
"Okay" I replied, almost tearing up. She meant so much to me, my big sister.
With that, she drove off. I watched her drive away, until her car disappeared behind the corner, then I turned around. Hayden's car was still there, reminding me of the morning's events.
I was toying with the idea of staying home to keep an eye for his return. But would that be even worse? What would I do, chase him down the street so I can apologize? I had already called him twice. And now I needed to call him for the third time, so I could leave a message.
This was getting more and more complicated by the minute, but I didn't care. All I wanted was to know that he was all right. I got back into the house and almost start dialing his phone again, when a thought flashed through my head: Of course he is not at home - he is at the gym! A wave of relief came upon me. I am such an idiot. Of course, dedicated as he is, he wouldn't miss the workout. With a sigh of relief, I started to get ready. If I wanted to go to the gym to see him, before the class, I need to hurry.
Soon I was driving to the gym, watching carefully for him along the way. I didn't want to miss him if he was already on his way back. I entered the gym and scanned the large space, but he wasn't there. The gym was mainly empty so I could easily look around. I went to the locker room as well, but it was empty. On my way out, I spotted Chrissy, the blond girl that was working behind the counter. She smiled at me when I approached her. "Hey Chrissy...did you see Hayden in here today? Big guy, we have been working out together for the past month or so?"
"Hayden? Yes, he was here this morning, but he left before seven. I haven't seen him since then," she replied.
I thanked her and exited the gum. The anxiety in me was boiling. Crap, I should've left him a note on his car. I was so sure that he would be here that I forgot about that. Now I have to go directly to school since I cannot be late for my appointment. My professor was very strict about tardiness. Damn!
(Hayden's point of view)
Slowly, I made myself get up from my bed. I felt totally spent and empty. I knew that if I didn't get up and start moving, I'd be in much worse shape later on. This morning I got upstairs with a vague need to take a shower after the gym, but I was only capable to drag myself into the bed. Staring at the ceiling, I could only think about how fucked up I had let my life become. I think I slept for a while, but I couldn't remember. The time passed without me even being aware of it. Now I felt all sticky from the dried sweat and the gym clothes that I was still wearing. Disgusted, I forced myself to get up and take a shower, and then I went downstairs. Clean clothes at least made me feel better on the outside. Inside, there was still a desolate space that was echoing with pain. I glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall; it was showing that it was past three. I looked at it in resentment. I wasted the whole morning. I didn't care at this point. I didn't care if I missed the workout, if I wasted most of the day doing nothing but stare at the ceiling, I didn't care. All I knew was that I had misled myself so badly, so wrongly that all I could feel inside me was hollow pain. I didn't even bother to think this one through, to try to analyze, to try to fix the problem. I didn't care anymore.
(Matt's point of view)
I never drove so fast back home. I could barely wait for the appointment with my mentor to be over, and I almost ran to my car. I arrived in my neighborhood a little after two, nervously peeking around the last corner.
Hayden's car was still there.
I parked mine next to it, getting more and more confused. Where is he? I looked inside - it still looked the same way it did this morning, when Mary and I had left my place. His cell phone was still sitting on the passenger seat.
Now what?
Without even going to my apartment, I jumped again in my car and went to his place. Same deserted outlook, exactly like this morning. I rang the bell and knocked a couple of times, without any success. Now I started to be very worried. This was definitely not like Hayden. I tore a page from my notebook and left him a note.
I stepped back off the porch and sat on the stairs. This felt so different from couple nights ago, when I almost...
I sighed. It seemed so long ago, when his house was beaming with people and life. Now it felt as if it had all been a dream - the party, the conversation with Hayden, and this morning - everything seemed so surreal now, sitting on the stairs of a seemingly empty house. I sighed again and dragged myself back to my car. I was hoping for another failure from the fuel pump, just something to justify my staying here. Something that would bring Nicki back here to get me out of trouble, as always.
Then I remembered: I still had Jessie's phone number! A couple of calls later, I got Courtney's number. I instantly started to feel better.
"Matt, you are the biggest idiot on the planet," I thought to myself, dialing. Hayden must be with Courtney! He must be. The two of them had probably gone somewhere together; and Hayden forgot his cell phone in his car. All of a sudden, everything started to fall into place.
His car broke down. He called Courtney to give him a ride. Now he was with her, and I was panicking over nothing. "There is a logical explanation for all of this," I almost sighed with relief, listening to the phone ringing on the other side. Finally, I heard someone picking it up.
"Um, Courtney? Hey it's Matt. I am sorry to call you, but..."
All of a sudden I started to feel really awkward and embarrassed. What in the world was I doing? Asking Courtney where her boyfriend was? I started to stutter, sorting through my brain for any possible explanation that might sound plausible for why I was calling her.
"...I am trying to get in touch with Hayden, since we were supposed to go workout today, and he is never late," I finished, blushing.
I could hear a sigh on the other side. That was something that I had not expected. Before I could think it over, Courtney started to talk, with a strange tone in her voice: "I don't know where he is. I haven't seen him since Tuesday morning."
Tuesday? Now it was my turn to return to being confused.
"Wow...I...I was hoping that he is with you...since...since I don't know where he is, and I checked his place twice since this morning," I continued while my mind was tumbling with unanswered questions.
"No, he left my place on Tuesday, and I haven't seen him since. He might need some time off to..." now she was hesitating.
What the hell was going on?
" ...to...um. He is probably still recovering from the game and all the drinking that we all did," she finished.
"Hayden doesn't drink!" I surprised even myself with my outburst.
I heard another sigh from the other side of the line. I bit my lip. Something was going on, something with Nicki, and it was eating me up.
"There is a lot that you don't know about Hayden," Courtney said, in a very cold tone of voice.
That sentence sent a chill down my spine. Something was happening with him. I couldn't hold it anymore.
"Courtney...I'm sorry...I-I am very worried for him. If there is something going on, I would like to know. Is he all right?"
Another pause from her side, another pause while my skin was crawling with thousands of ants.
"He will tell you. That is, if he wants to. I cannot help you with that. But I can tell you that he will probably come to you before he will come to me right now," she finished with a very confusing sentence. I thanked her and closed the phone, and then I buried my head in my hands. The conversation with Courtney brought very few answers, and a lot more questions.
Various theories were coursing trough my head. Is he doing drugs? Is he in jail or something? None of those were fitting in the picture. Especially when she said that he got drunk? That did not fit at all. I never saw Nicki with a beer in his hand, let alone being drunk. It just didn't fit.
(Hayden's point of view)
"Please give me a call. I know I made you mad. I must to talk to you. Matt."
I was looking at that piece of paper in my hand as if it were going to solve all my problems. The note, brief as it was, conveyed more problems than I could imagine. One moment I was looking at it as if it were the evil source of my anguish, and the next I was gently stroking its tattered edge, as if just touching a silly piece of paper was going to bring the very thing that I was longing for. That stupid piece of paper was last held by his hand. Matt came over here, worried about me, and left a note stuck in the glass window of the front door.
Matt made me mad? I couldn't comprehend that thought. There was nothing in this world that that boy could do to make me mad. Why was he thinking that he made me mad? I couldn't think of any reason.
It was not him who was fucked up in his head. It was I.
It was me who took a fantasy way too far, to the point that had become a twisted part of my life. It became so realistic that I actually believed in it, and then I made a wrong turn. And now I didn't know how to go back. The damage was done, and I knew it.
I crumbled his note in a wad of paper and hurled it across the kitchen. It was already getting dark outside, and the house was dark and cold. I clenched my fists. Just like how I felt inside. Dark and fucking cold
And lonely.
I stood up from the kitchen table. The emotions that were brewing in me were too familiar. And this time I couldn't muffle the visceral feel that was growing inside of me, clawing at me from inside, like a monster. I pushed back the chair that I was sitting on, almost violently, and opened the cabinet on top of the fridge. A familiar sight greeted me. It had been a long time since I had seen the well-known labels on the various bottles. There was no hesitation in my motions; I wanted to do this.
I wanted to get drunk, and I wanted to get drunk fast.
(Matt's point of view)
It was already dark when I closed my phone, after talking to Mary. We had talked for almost two hours. She had arrived safely at the hotel where she was going to stay for the night, and she called me shortly after I had called Courtney again. Courtney was more friendly the second time I called; she was worried for Hayden, too, but she didn't gave me any more information. I knew that she knew more than I did, but she remained silent, despite several attempts on my part to find out more about what was going on. Mary didn't give me any answers either, but she did give me consolation, as always. We discussed the possibility that Hayden was having family troubles, which would be a valid reason for disappearing, but there were too many questions that remained unanswered. For one, how come that his white Golf was still parked in front of my house. And, the biggest one that I had, that Courtney didn't want to give me any answers to: how come Hayden had got drunk? That was simply not adding up in my head.
I was too upset to work on my school research or on any meaningful projects. That afternoon I had opened my drawing block and begun working on another piece, but I'd abandoned it shortly thereafter to give Courtney a call.
Now I was sitting on the couch, pondering what to do. I looked at the clock - it was 7:30. I decided to go for a walk, knowing that I was actually going to Nicki's house again.
It was cold outside, cold enough to make me walk at a brisk pace. I was lying to myself that I was not rushing to his house, that this was just a walk, not a search mission.
His house was dark at first glance, as I was approaching it from the row of other houses down the street. Again, there were no signs present that he was there, but as I was getting closer, I heard music. I couldn't hold myself back anymore, and I quickly ran the last few hundred yards. As I approached the house, more and more signs appeared: there was some dim light in the living room, and the music was loud. I could recognize one of the "Metallica" heavy riffs that were thundering throughout the house.
And my note, which I had carefully tucked in the glass frame on the front door, was gone.
I simply flew up those few stairs to the porch and rung the bell. And again. I was standing on the porch, realizing that there was only a slim chance that anybody could hear me ringing over the guitars that were almost abrading the space. I knocked, much more quietly as hesitation was setting in, realizing slowly that there was a reason for the dimmed lights, the forgotten car...and the silence.
Hayden didn't want to talk to me or see me.
In horror of my revelation, I took a couple steps back.
I began to tremble in light of my discovery. My mouth was chattering as I slowly began to retreat towards the edge of the porch, and slowly started to descend the stairs, still looking at the door, almost as if expecting him to open the door and see the freak that had done everything possible to ruin this friendship.
Nothing happened.
I got back onto the sidewalk, with my eyes still locked on the front door. I was almost ready to turn around and leave, when I spotted movement in the living room. It was only a shadow that barely grazed the bottom of the window, but that was enough for me to start breathing rapidly, like a child about to be caught doing something wrong.
I couldn't help myself. Like a robot, I walked across the grassy lawn to the living room window, which was low enough for me to look inside. There were no curtains, and I could look inside and recognize the space that looked so familiar, and yet at the same time so strange, dissimilar and unusual in the poor lightning that was coming from a very small desk lamp. That was probably the only source of light in the whole house. I was looking inside, not seeing what I wanted to see. "Is he all right? Does he need help? Why all the silence?" Thousands of questions were coursing through my head as I was standing there, shivering from cold and anxiety.
Suddenly, Hayden walked right in front of the window, so suddenly that I jumped back. His back was turned away and I knew that he couldn't see me, but I stayed back in the darkness of the front yard. A wave of relief washed over me. "He is fine!" I thought as I sighed, deeply. At that point, I didn't care whether or not he was mad at me, why he was not in the mood to talk, or whatever. He was all right, and that was all that mattered to me.
I looked at him, still standing in the middle of his living room. He was wearing a tight black tank top, stretched over his torso, and black sweatpants. I bit my lip. Just one look at his round shoulders brought back all the reasons why I shouldn't have been there. He was standing, his back slightly curved, in that way artists would use to depict mythological Greek characters, in the best way to accentuate their muscular bodies.( I would like to keep this as is) He was standing there only for a moment, and then he moved to the recliner next to the work desk. Only then did I realize that there was a glass sitting on the edge of the desk underneath the lamp. Nicki didn't have to take the glass for me to know that he was drinking, and that he had probably been drinking for a while. I bit my lip again, to suppress the bitterness that was coming from me. I felt an enormous sense of despair, of desolation, of...
Guilt.
I inhaled in surprise, my revelation piercing me like a knife. Nicki was drinking. He couldn't have been drinking...because of me?
No. There was no way. There had to be another reason. I was not that important in his life. It must have been something else...or somebody else...Courtney! He broke up with her! That's why he wanted to be left alone, that's why she was so reserved to me and my inquiries about him.
As reasonable as that explanation sounded, I couldn't convince myself that that was true. For some reason, I felt that I was responsible for that glass, half full with liquid, luminescent with an almost golden hue in the dim light of the desk lamp. I just couldn't shake that feeling.
If I were the one who made him that mad...why didn't he want to talk to me then? Why? He got my note...but he still didn't want to talk to me. That was tearing me up inside. I was still feeling great concern for him. Just the fact that he was drinking was bothering me enormously. And I couldn't shake the feeling that I had something to do with it.
As I was pondering all those thoughts, he suddenly grabbed the remote for the stereo and stopped the music. The immediate silence was deafening. I could hear my heart beating as I was still looking at him, at his handsome face, his firm lips, his muscular hands.
Very slowly, Hayden leaned forward and buried his face in his hands, and then, a moment later, he reached behind the recliner and grabbed his guitar.
I held my breath. The notion of witnessing something very, very private for him was leaving me light-headed. He adjusted the guitar in his lap, strummed several cords, and adjusted a couple strings. Just seeing him holding his guitar, tuning each string with such careful passion was burning an unerasable image in my mind. He struck a couple of powerful chords, which reverberated throughout the house. I realized that he had the guitar connected to his stereo. Again, he struck a couple of strings, something that resembled the howling Metallica riffs that had been echoing through the house just moments ago, but he placed the palm of his hand over the strings, muffling the sound.
And then, very slowly, he started to pick one string at the time, just carrying the melody. I had never heard anything like this before. I was just listening, watching him playing, mesmerized. His hands were giving me an enchanting sight of gentleness, and, at the same time, showing me the undeniably masculine side of his strong forearms and biceps as he was playing. His strumming become more passionate for a moment, and then quieted the guitar again, almost to a barely recognizable tune.
"I open my eyes I try to see but I'm blinded by the white light I can't remember how I can't remember why I'm laying here tonight And I can't stand the pain I and I can't make it go away No I can't stand the pain..."
It took me several long seconds to realize that it was Hayden singing, that it was his voice that was reverberating so very quietly, and yet so powerfully, all the way to me, striking some very sensitive cords in my own body. His voice, low and deep, was still carrying the same energy to make my body tingle, despite the coldness.
"...how could this happen to me I've made my mistakes got nowhere to run the night goes on as I'm fading away I'm sick of this life I just wanna scream How could this happen to me..."
I had to place my hands on the window sill. The thought that I was seeing Hayden playing his guitar and singing like this was almost disturbing. It felt wrong, it felt that I shouldn't be here. This was his private time, and I had no right to intrude, to spy from outside into this most private moment, when he was tapping into the core of his own self. It felt as if I was stealing something, something from deep inside of him.
"...everybody's screaming I try to make a sound but no one hears me I'm slipping off the edge I'm hanging' by a thread I wanna start this over again
So I try to hold onto a time when nothing mattered And I can't explain what happened And I can't erase the things that I've done No I can't -"
Hayden continued to play, but I had to peel myself away from the window, then, slowly started to retreat toward the street. Now I wasn't just shivering anymore. I was shaking, almost to the point of being unable to breathe. Different thoughts were tearing through my brain, all combining into a single stream that was piercing straight down into my chest.
I could never have him. I could never have this wonderful human being that was revealing more and more of his fascinating traits. He broke up with his girlfriend - that was the only explanation I could find for his dark mood. But what was tearing me up inside was the fact that he would never feel anything like this towards me, he would never play his guitar like that if I were gone from his life.
Gone...from his life.
The idea came back to me, not fully developed, but at the same time not for the first time. It reared its ugly head, filling me with acidic thoughts that were making more and more sense.
I staggered up the stairs of my apartment and collapsed on my bed. I didn't even bother to take off my shoes or clothes. Something started spilling inside of me, as dark as ink. I started crying like I hadn't cried in a long time, with sobs that were making my stomach shudder with pain, while my head was buried in the pillow. The bitterness from deep within me was eating me from the inside, leaving burned marks and emptiness behind it.
(Hayden's point of view)
It was almost noon when I finally woke up enough to make myself get out of the bed. I was feeling way more fucked up then I had expected.
"Well, at least I woke up in my own bedroom this time," I thought to myself without laughing. I looked at the bedside next to me. The sheets were just slightly disturbed, since there was no one but me to sleep in my bed. A couple of nights ago, at least I had Courtney next to me. I looked through the window, remembering the feeling that I had had that morning.
Alone. Despite the fact that I had had a good-looking girl next to me that morning in my bed, I had felt alone.
Now that I was in fact alone in my house, the bleak feeling of desolation was even stronger. I made myself get up and take a shower, and then I went downstairs. I went into the kitchen, where I found the bottle of liquor on the counter, just as I had left it last night. Disgusted, I placed it back on the shelf. I didn't even want to think about last night. I did not want to think about why I didn't have a girl next to me right now, or why I felt such a strong desire to get myself trashed for the second time in two days, or why I was trying to fix the fucked up situation in which I was right now in the worst possible way.
And why, above all, I felt that right now I was missing somebody else from my life. Someone who was not Courtney, nor any other girl.
I felt the sting of a grisly hunger, as I always did after a night of heavy drinking. Roaming through the cabinets I finally put together something that resembled breakfast. I sat down and looked at what I had in front of me.
Peanut butter sandwich.
"Wow, I'm really a keeper," I growled sarcastically to myself, and forced myself to prepare some normal food. I was getting mad at myself for letting go so much, for straying so far from my normal, healthy routine that had kept me in check for so long.
And for...
I sighed, looking through the window towards the driveway. I forced myself to think about everything else but Matt. About the school, about my bike, about...
Fuck! Where was my car?
I ran outside, barefooted. As soon as I ran out into the street, I remembered that I had left it in front of Matt's apartment. I shook my head, standing on the sidewalk. It was a gloomy, gray day, and I shook my shoulders, feeling the cold quickly setting goose bumps onto my skin.
"I'm losing it," I grumbled to myself as I walked back inside the house, just to be greeted with smoke that was pouring out from the kitchen. I ran to the stove, but it was already too late. The charred remains were all that was left of my breakfast. I hurled the frying pan into the sink. Now I was getting seriously pissed. Any other day I would have laughed it off, but this was really getting to me. There were just too many things going on lately that were slipping away from me, too many things that I couldn't control anymore. I forced myself to sit on the chair, and calm myself down.
I could see only one solution. I had to talk to Matt. I still had no idea how, or when, but I had to talk to him. I had to.
My eyesight caught a small paper ball that was lying on the floor, underneath one of the cabinets. I grabbed it, and carefully opened it up, straightening the folds.
A simple message, and yet leading to so much haste, and need for explaining. A lot of explaining.
One hour into tearing up my house, I had to admit to myself that I had no idea where my cell phone was. I tried to call it, but my voice mail picked up immediately, telling me that the battery was dead and that the phone had shut itself off. And, after accessing my voice mail, I got all five voicemails from Matt, one more disturbing than the other. I tossed the handset and grabbed my head with both hands, walking back and forward through the house. I hadn't bothered to write down Matt's number anywhere else except in my cell phone, that I had no idea where it was now.
Again, I had the feeling of a train, coming out of a tunnel. Something big and unstoppable. And this time it was scaring me a lot more than ever before. I grabbed a jacket and my keys and I ran outside of the house.
My car was still sitting in front of the house where Matt was living. As soon as I passed it, I spotted my cell phone, resting on the passenger seat. "Well, at least that mystery is solved," I mused, looking around. His car was gone, though. I still ran up the stairs and rang several times, but nobody was home.
Now what.
I got into my car and started it up, since I was already feeling cold, as the sweat was drying too fast on me in the cold December afternoon.
"He is probably in school," I remembered, but I didn't know his schedule or plans. He could be gone all evening, for all I knew. I drove back home, placed the phone on the charger and as soon as it was up and running, I sent him a message.
"I'm not mad. Just too many things are off their axles lately. Need to talk 2 U" I typed, but then I looked at the last sentence in the message, and erased it after some brief thinking. I did not need to scare him away.
Much calmer, I started to do various things around the house. Even though people had cleaned up after the party, there was still a lot of stuff that was in total disarray. Only when I realized that it was past 6 in the evening, I got worried. I checked my phone - nothing. I was standing in the kitchen, musing over the lack of any reply from Matt. I began to feel anxiety again.
(Matt's point of view)
I got everything that I needed. I did have to go all the way back to the town, but now I was ready. I was sitting in the cold room, thinking about what to write down on the notepad that I had in front of me. The blank piece of paper was mocking me with its crisp white pages, not evoking any concise thoughts in my head. Even though I had made my decision, and had talked to my parents and Mary, I still felt that I hadn't completed everything that I needed to do. And I knew what the missing link was.
I wanted to talk to Hayden, one last time before I left.
I had got the message from him earlier. Finally, but all too late. I still felt like shit for leaving without any explanation, especially to him. He was the last person who would deserve such a treatment, and I knew that he would feel confused and betrayed.
"He will understand," I thought to myself, but I knew that was a lie, and I was feeling repentant about it.
More lies. I felt like my whole life lately was built on lies and deceit. I clenched my jaw. "That's why leaving is the right decision," I thought to myself, feeling the bitterness that was pooling around me like a sultry cloud.
It was starting to get dark outside. I opened my drawing block one last time, and thumbed through the pages, studying each of the drawings very carefully. None of them were fully finished, but I loved every single one of them equally. With a sigh, I closed the drawing block and placed it back on the desk. It felt like I was closing a chapter in my life, a very intense and turbulent one. I stood over the desk, tracing the edges of the covers with my finger. I wasn't regretting my decision. I still felt that it was the right choice, and I didn't feel any remorse from all the experiences that I had during this past semester. It had been intense and beautiful, but it was time to put an end to it. "I will never open this again," I thought to myself. Moments later, I changed my mind, and I opened it up to write a note on the inside of the cover. Feeling better about that decision, I looked outside. It had started to snow, with big, fluffy flakes.
"Perfect," I thought to myself, and sat back on my bed. I grabbed the notepad and I started to write a short note.
(Hayden's point of view)
Something was wrong. I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was something that was going against every grain inside of my body. I started to watch TV, then I switched to the stereo, then back to the TV. After only several minutes of flipping through the channels, I turned the TV off and chucked the remote on the coffee table. I sat quietly on the couch, not feeling at peace at all. Then I paced through the house for several minutes. Feeling ridiculous about my anxiety, I went to the garage. The Cadillac needed an oil change, so that was a perfect project for a quiet evening. However, after only a few minutes of rummaging through the Caddy's engine, I lost interest in messing with it. I closed the hood and leaned on its broad roof.
Something was...wrong.
I went back into the house, then back to the garage, and back into the house again after being there for only a few minutes. I felt like an animal just before an earthquake. Was it a lack of alcohol? I had never had this problem before. Maybe I was getting sick? I was running this morning to Matt's place, and then I got cold sitting in the cold car before it warmed up. I couldn't figure out what was making me nervous.
For the tenth time, I checked my cell phone. It was getting past 11 in the evening, and I hadn't heard from Matt yet. That did not fit the puzzle. The unnerved voice mail messages on top of the text messages that I got only minuets after I turned my phone back on, were not going hand in hand with this silence.
Something was wrong.
Finally, I decided to text him. I waited for a long time, but there was no reply. Maybe his phone was off, too. Just when I was thinking of calling him again, my phone chimed with a message from him.
(Matt's point of view)
"R U okay?"
That was the message. Short, with a seemingly easy answer. I was just sitting there, looking at the phone until the screen went black. The various thoughts were tumbling through my head. "The least you can do is answer him," I thought, but that was not matching what I actually felt that I needed to do.
"Yes. Everything is fine." I replied and hit the "send" button. "It's too late now," I thought to myself. I was sitting down, with everything organized and ready.
It was time to leave.
I looked at all my carefully arranged stuff. I had covered all the important things. Everything was packed and labeled.
"I'm ready," I thought to myself, but it was echoing hollowly in my soul.
Then...something in me snapped. I just couldn't go on with my firmly decided plan. I couldn't. I couldn't just leave without talking to Hayden. I had thought that I could, but when I actually sat down and got all my stuff ready, I realized that I couldn't. I grabbed my cell phone again.
(Hayden's point of view)
"Everything is fine." That was the message that I got from him. I looked at it, biting my lip. This was definitely wrong. I could feel it in every fiber of my being. Everything was not fine. That message felt like it was going against every grain in my body. Before I could think about it more, another message came from him
"No it's not fine. Can I come over?"
Unexpectedly, I felt relief. At least he was going to talk to me. I replied to him, and sat down on the couch. Anxiety was boiling in me. Seconds later, I actually had to get up and walk around for several minutes to get rid of the butterflies in my stomach. Matt was coming over in a matter of minutes, and I still didn't have any idea of what I was going to tell him. And nothing that I could think of could fit in any kind of normal conversation.
Minutes later, the doorbell rang. I sighed deeply one more time and went to let him in.
One look at him told me that this was not going to be an ordinary night. He looked...horrible. His cheeks were sunken in, and more pale than usual. Even his eyes looked different, with a feverish shine in them. He took off his jacket, remaining in a sweatshirt with our school logo on. I saw that as a trace of good sign, as a maybe that he was not planning to leave after all. He thanked me with the faintest smile that I had ever seen on him. Wow, something was really wrong. We went into the living room.
"You want something? I got some hot tea ready," I asked him. He nodded his head, still not saying anything. Nervous as hell, I got two mugs ready and went back to the living room. We both sat down, next to each other. For several minutes, neither of us spoke or touched our drinks.
There was an elephant in the room, and both of us were feeling its presence.
To my surprise, he started to talk first.
"How...how did you do on your semester?"
"Oh..okay, I guess. Biochem was hard, so I didn't expect too much. How about you?" I replied
"Mhmmm...okay," he said, not really being convincing.
For a while we both sat in silence again.
"Hayden...Nicki...I...I need to talk to you about something. I-I am...I haven't been quite honest with you," said Matt abruptly, as if he had made his mind about something.
"Okay," I said, looking at him, but when I realized that he was looking at his mug and not at me, I diverted my eyesight as well. I understood that whatever he was planning on telling me must be really hard for him to talk about.
"I..."he began, but his voice trailed off. I could see that he was biting his lip, trying to find strength to continue. I had to jump in.
"Matt...if you...if you are not comfortable to talk about it...or you are not sure that you want to tell me about it, maybe you shouldn-"
"No!" The strength of his voice almost made an echo in the room as he interrupted me. "I- I want to tell you. I need to tell you," he continued with newly-found determination in his voice. "It's just...something like that...I never..." his voice trailed off again. I could see that he was rubbing the palms of his hands together, trying to hide his nervousness. I placed my hand on his back, and gently started to rub his back in encouragement. He took couple a deep of breaths, and tried to speak again.
"I..I'm..."
I could notice that now he was actually shaking, so I started to rub him more energetically.
"It's okay, bro. If you are not ready, you can-"
I had to stop in mid-sentence. He shot me a look that I had never seen on him, or on anybody before in my life. There were simply so many emotions in his eyes that I had to shut up. Desperation, hesitance, and...
Fear.
For some reason, he felt scared of whatever he was planning on saying to me. He returned his gaze back to the tea that was sitting on the coffee table in front of him.
"I have been hiding something from you all this months. I've lied to you, Hayden," he continued, quietly. I decided to remain silent, despite being taken aback with that statement.
"I am not the person who you think I am. I...I painted a picture of lies and you have been nothing but the best friend that anyone could have. That's why I came over here tonight. I cannot live a lie anymore," he turned to me again, just for a brief moment.
"And I cannot lie to you. You are...you do not deserve that," he finished, and remained silent for a few very long moments. At first glance he appeared that he was calming down, but I realized that he was in fact unable to continue any further at that moment. I was boiling inside. What the hell was he talking about? I couldn't even imagine over what he was stressing so much. When he continued, his voice was trembling, and he looked even more insecure than ever before.
"I'm..."
"I'm..."
He was shaking all over again. I could see that his lips were trembling. I still had my hand on his back, encouraging him.
"I'm gay."
That was barely a whisper, and then he shot me a very brief, very short, worried look before burying his eyesight in the floor again.
Time stood still. I was battling what to say in my brain. All this time, in my wildest dreams, I had not seen this conversation taking place, and now I was totally speechless.
"It's okay," he continued, in a tone of voice barely louder than a whisper. "I know it's not what you want to hear from someone who is...who was so close to you," he continued, still looking at the floor.
My mind was a scattered ocean of non-concise thoughts and words that were impossible to catch and place in any meaningful order.
"And I know that you are thinking that I'm a freak and deviant, and that you should not be around me-"
"That's not true, Matt, I-" I barely managed half a sentence when he interrupted me again.
"Please...I know how this world works. And I don't blame you. It is not you who is messed up, it is I. That's why I don't want you to...be around...to put you in...anymore..." again, he couldn't finish. This time he remained silent while I was everything but able to continue.
Finally, after several long-winded moments, I managed to forge a smile. I started talking, with my brain barely able to keep up with my stuttering: "Matt...it's not that bad, really...I have some friends who are gay...not here, but back home...and she is an awesome person...people don't look at it these days as they used to...believe me, you will find someone that you can share you life with...and be happy," I managed to croak last words without choking.
Over his face flew a shadow of a smile, more a spasm of his cheeks that lasted a fraction of a second before his face fell again. I sensed that there was more to it.
"Do you...have you already found someone?" I asked him, in honest curiosity.
Slowly, Matt turned his head and looked me straight into the eyes. Again, that distressed look was back. That look that I couldn't quite read, and it was so full of pain that I instantly went mute. This time he smirked, in a false smile that was more a sign of desperation than a actual laughter, an unnatural replica of his laugh, while he looked somewhere above the coffee table.
"I cannot believe you said that," he said, in such a cold tone of voice that my heart skipped. I had never heard him say anything in that manner before. It felt as if he had sent a jagged shard of ice straight into my chest. I knew that I had done something, I had said something really, really wrong.
"Matt, I..." I tried to talk to him, but he jumped from the couch and walked away a couple of steps, shaking his head. I remained on the couch, still bewildered by all the stuff that had just happened.
"I cannot believe you...out of all people..." he continued, not even talking to me anymore. His voice was a whole scale deeper, like something had cracked inside of him. I got up on my feet, with a horrid sinking sensation in my chest, and came up behind him.
"Matt I-" I placed my hand gently on his shoulder, but he shook it off, almost violently. I could see that his shoulders were trembling now.
"Matt, I- I'm sorry- I-I...I didn't know what to...I am sorry if-" I tried to continue, but he just walked away several more steps, now standing in the middle of the room, still shaking his head. I went silent. I became painfully aware how the room became agonizingly quiet. I was searching for something to say, anything, any fucking word, just say SOMETHING, Hayden you fool...
"Out of all people...you..." I could hear Matt's voice, muffled and changed. I swallowed a huge lump in my throat, and then he turned around and looked at me. I literary took a step back. His eyes were teary, filled with excruciating agony. But there was such a determination in his gaze that it was almost physically pushing me in the chest.
"You...out of all people...you who could always read me like an open book..." he continued, raising his voice, which was betraying him. It was a crackling mixture of whisper and high-pitch voice, which he was trying to push through his throat, constricted with emotions.
"...You...you couldn't recognize it...and it was..." Tears were now flowing freely down his face; he wasn't even trying to wipe them off. He hived, trying to collect strength.
I couldn't bear to see him like this. I opened my mouth, but that was as far as I could go. My own throat was tied in a knot.
"You couldn't tell?" his voice betrayed him again."-...and it was...right in front of you!" He wasn't whispering anymore. If it wasn't for his voice cracking, he would have been literally screaming at me.
I took one step towards him, still unable to open my mouth, still unable to fully comprehend what was unfolding right in front of me, here in my living room.
Matt took another coarse breath, finding his strength, and he shouted at me, this time in his full voice:
"YOU ARE THE ONE THAT I'M IN LOVE WITH! IT IS YOU, NICKI !"
It felt as if he had physically hit me, all across my body, with all the anguish and pain that he had in him. That was the last thing I registered from him before he bolted from the room. I was still just standing there, looking at the empty spot in space where he was standing just seconds ago.
I started to breathe in gasps, just pushing gulps of air through the shrinking windpipe in my throat.
I knew, in the back of my mind, that he had run out of the house, and I could hear the closing of the front door, but all of that was pushed way too fast into the mush that was once my brain. I felt as if everything in me got disconnected, every fuse blown, every conscious thought wiped out. All of the connections were lost.
Matt screaming at me...Matt is...Matt's face, with tears rolling down his cheeks...Matt is...Matt is gay...did he said he was gay?
Despite repeating it over and over in my head, it still was too unbelievable, too incomprehensible to grasp, to accept.
Matt is gay.
I was still standing, unable to move, as if someone had taken all the energy out of me. Different thoughts were colliding in my head, not making any sense out of each other. It felt as if I was drawing with an eraser. My skull felt like a wasp' nests bombarded from the inside with everything that had been pushed in it in less than ten minutes.
Matt is gay. I forced that single line out, pushing all of the other ones aside, fighting to remain focused on that one.
Matt is gay.
And he is in love...with me.
I raised my hands and grabbed my head, as if holding my head would make everything inside it more stable and steady. It was just too much to comprehend, too much to take in. I was repeating those two simple sentences over and over again in my head, without any success of actually grasping their full meaning.
Matt is...gay.
I looked over my living room. He was gone, a long time ago. He was gone, before I had a chance to speak, before I had a chance to talk to him about how I felt. I had no idea for how long I had been just standing there, like an idiot, not being able to regroup myself.
All I knew was that I had to find him, as soon as possible. I ran outside, into the dark night. He was nowhere in sight. Without even thinking about grabbing a jacket, or locking the door, I ran down the street which was glistening from the snow that had already melted down. I couldn't see any footprints so I just ran straight to his house, with my jumbled mind trying to sort out what had happened tonight.
I ran up the stairs, coughing from the freezing air that was hurting my lungs. I rang the bell, over and over again, without any answer. Exhausted, I sat on the doorstep underneath the small awning. I needed some time to collect myself.
Matt is gay.
I knew that I should have been elated at hearing that, but instead I felt only worry. The way this evening had ended, it hadn't left much room for any communication from my side. And I had so much to tell him, so many things were bursting inside of me that it hurt. Several long minutes later, I collected my thoughts enough to start thinking rationally. I needed to talk to him. The urgency of that need was rising in me at an alarming rate. How come he was not at home yet? I looked down the stairs; the concrete was much colder than the street, and the light dusting of the snow was still present on it. The only footsteps on the staircase leading here were my own. That confirmed to me that he had not returned yet. But where is he then? Should I go look for him, or wait here? If he had just taken another path back home, he would be here shortly. His car was here, so I knew that he wasn't gone for good. But what if he decided to go back to my place? I though that I had left it unlocked - at least he could get in there without me present. Damnit, I should have left him a note before I left. But, who was I fooling? At that moment I hadn't thought of anything at all, except finding him as soon as possible. And of course, I left my cell phone at home as well. Shit.
I decided to wait at his place for a while. It felt like the better choice, since it didn't seem to me that he would go anywhere else. I placed my head in between my hands and closed my eyes while my brain was still running around in circles.
(Matt's point of view)
I walked aimlessly for what seemed hours. I was still shocked by how I had let myself go at Hayden's place. That kind of behavior was very uncharacteristic for me. I couldn't recall screaming at anybody like that in my whole life.
"So this is the price to pay for losing control," I mused to myself sullenly. "Well, it doesn't matter now, does it? At least he doesn't have to pretend to be nice to you anymore. No more pondering 'What if?" Hayden now knows what a freak you are, so at least we got that out in the open. That made the decision-making from his end much easier. As well as from yours. So, it's a win-win, right?" I tried to rationalize, but I knew it was all lies. The truth was, I had lost it, I had completely lost it tonight. Nothing worked as well as I had planned. From the moment that I got to his place, to the moment that I left.
"And you made a memorable impression of that departure, too, Matthew," I said to myself. If it weren't for the more intense feeling of jaded horror towards my actions tonight, I would probably feel embarrassed for my actions. This way, it was pleasantly shoved under the carpet of fucked up things that I had done at his place. I just couldn't remain civil. No, my emotions took the better of me, and I lost it. Fine. More reasons for Hayden not to miss me when I'm gone.
I sighed. I wished he would miss me. I wished I could be someone in his life that he could have strong feelings for, strong enough to make him get drunk, play his guitar and sing when I'm gone. Someone that he is looking forward to being with, not just someone who constantly fucked something up around him. Just as I had lied to him from day one, misleading him that I was straight. Just as I basically used him, as a source of infatuation, help with homework, and help when my car breaks down.
Oh, yeah, and jerk-off material, too.
I stuffed my hands deep into my pockets and decided to find my way home. It was probably close to one in the morning. There was some unfinished business that I needed to take care of. I needed to remove myself from Hayden's life, and there was no need to procrastinate. The decision was made.
It took me almost an hour to find my way back home. It was dark, I was in a neighborhood that I had never been through before, and I couldn't recognize any of the streets that I was walking by. That is, until I realized that I would have to pass Hayden's neighborhood again, on my way back home. I didn't necessary have to go by his house; I could pick any of the street blocks that were leading in my direction, but I decided to take the street that Hayden was living on.
"One last look at his house," I thought to myself, without any better reason. In the back of my mind, I was hoping to see him, but I knew that I couldn't trust myself and my reaction anymore.
Walking by his house churned more emotions than I had anticipated. I would never see him again. I would never hear him talk to me, or work out with him, seeing those straining muscles glistening with sweat. I would never get hypnotized with those deep, mysterious eyes that always looked like they had fire burning behind them.
Realizing that I was getting teary again, I sped up my walking and passed his house at a brisk pace. In less then twenty minutes, I was turning up the sidewalk of Mrs. Lancing's house.
I stopped dead in my tracks when I reached the staircase to my apartment. Somebody was there! At first, I thought that the person sitting on my doorstep was a bum but, as soon as I saw our school logo on the sleeve of the sweatshirt, I knew that there could be only one person waiting on my doorstep.
My first thought was pure happiness. He came to see if I was all right. Even after what I had pulled at his place, he was still worried about me. I swallowed a lump. After all this time, Hayden's compassion was still something that could amaze me. I realized that he didn't deserve someone like me to lug around like a stone around his neck. That made my previous decision even stronger.
My mind was racing. He looked as if he was asleep, and it appeared that he had been here for a while. I was weighing options, in total confusion. There was no way I could get into my apartment without waking him up. My carefully arranged plan crumbled one more time. Then I realized that he was shivering in his sleep. Outside was cold, too cold for someone to just be sitting there. He was freezing here...because he was worried about...me.
How many times will I fuck up some part in his life? I ran up the stairs and stopped in front of him. I clenched my jaw. I needed to be strong for this. I needed to forget what I had done a couple of hours ago. He was the most important thing right now. It didn't matter if I were able to control myself or not. Right now I had to get him into the house where it was nice and warm, and I could have my mental break down later.
With that, I steeled myself and gently placed my hand on his shoulder.
(Hayden's point of view)
Wolves. A whole bunch of them, playing in the snow field around me. Happy, big wolves, snapping playfully at each other while romping in the deep snow bank around me. I reach for some snow and start a snow fight with them, while they are pretending to run away, just to come back for some petting. I can see up-close their silver-lined winter fur, white fangs and blue eyes. All of them have blue eyes, fascinating blue eyes. They are remarkable. I am trying to remember why the blue eyes are so important to me.
I start to chase the wolves, but I cannot move. My feet are stuck in deep snow. One by one, they all run away into the woods that surround the snow field. The last wolf that is left in the field turns around to look at me, comes back and speaks to me, with his breath coming out as a white vapor around his muzzle:
"I have to leave you now. Don't miss me." And then he runs away in gracious, fluid motions. In a flash, he is gone. I cry, being left alone in the desolate, freezing snow. My beautiful, blue-eyed wolf is gone and he is not coming back. I am alone again.
"Hayden."
I hear the wolf's voice once more, but I cannot see him. The blinding whiteness of the snow is fading quickly as the night is coming in like an avalanche, swallowing the field in which the wolves were playing with me like a hurricane-
"Hayden."
I snapped out of my dream and lifted my head. Matt was kneeling in front of me, his figure shadowing the street lights behind him. I blinked and let my head drop onto my hands again. Weird dream.
"Nicki."
I hadn't been called like that for the past several years. Only Matt ever called me by that name. This time I swung my head up as I unfolded my stiff hands from my knees. I still had trouble believing that it was him in front of me.
Matt took a step back, looking somewhat embarrassed.
"Um, do you...want to come inside?" he was still looking somewhere to the side, stealing glances at me as if I were sitting naked on his doorstep.
I was still trying to get the sleep out of my eyes. My fingers were ice-cold when I rubbed my face. I tried to get up, but I couldn't. Sitting on the concrete left my legs completely numb. Matt gave me a hand, lifting me up and then he opened the door. He acted very strange, as if he were trying to put as much distance between us as possible, even when both of us entered his small hallway.
Inside his house it was dark, and pleasantly warm. I stayed in the hallway, feeling the blood rushing back to my feet. I still couldn't walk normally, so I decided to remain in the hallway for a moment. Matt was turning the lights on, and then he came back to me. For a moment he hesitantly lingered in the hallway with me, as if he were trying to say or do something, and then he disappeared in the kitchen. I could hear the soft clatter of cups as he was warming something in the microwave.
"Um, I'm making you some tea," he appeared in kitchen doorframe, looking at the floor and again, just stealing glances at me.
"Thanks," I mumbled. Even my voice sounded stiff. "Can I..." I pointed towards the bathroom. He nodded, and I went in there, wobbling on my legs that were tingling.
The bathroom was just barely large to fit the sink, toilet and a bathtub, with a small shelf next to it. I hobbled in, realizing that my right leg was much worse than the left one. I had to move it constantly in order to avoid painful cramps. As I was standing there, an odd thing happened. There was a sound of dripping water, accompanied by a light shadow that reflected onto the bathroom ceiling and part of the wall. I didn't pay too much attention to it. My mind was replaying a lot of stuff that had been stuffed in it, just hours ago. The whole evening was starting to come back - from the late cell phone message, to the moment when Matt was almost screaming at me. Had that really happened? I shook my head. It was so surreal that it could easily be just a part of my dream. I moved to the sink to wash my hands, and again there was the soft sound of a droplet falling into a large basin of water, followed by a light line, very much like what happens when a drop of rain falls into a puddle. I looked around, curious. Dripping water in the bathroom was not that odd. The fact that it sounded like droplets were falling into a large puddle was odd. I hobbled to my left and pulled the shower curtain aside, revealing the bathtub while my right leg was sending warning waves of pain. I needed to sit down, so I sat on the toilet, still looking at the bathtub, perplexed.
It was full of water.
I shook my head. Tonight there were just too many things that were out of the ordinary, and this was one of them. I let go of the shower curtain, and my eyes dropped to the shelf next to the tub.
Some common, every day toilet items. Shaving cream and the latest shaving safety razor, some hand lotion, a brand-new old-fashioned straight blade, his cell phone next to a pill bottle and a folded piece of notebook paper, a bottle of shampoo. I closed my eyes, feeling the tingling sensation in my legs that felt like a thousand ants crawling under my skin.
The train. The feeling of a rushing, incoming train was back, storming into my mind and pushing everything else aside.
I opened my eyes again, staring at the floor. The horrifying feeling that something was very wrong filled my whole body at lightning speed. My eyes were circling, as my brain was picking up the details of what I had just seen and putting them together, in a horrid puzzle whose pieces were fitting morbidly well.
I lifted my head and looked at the shelf again. I needed to see it with my own eyes again, because what my brain was telling me was just impossible to grasp. The small hairs on the back of my neck started to rise as I was looking at each object of the puzzle one more time.
A pill bottle.
A straight blade.
A bathtub full of water.
And a...
I jumped on my feet and grabbed the folded piece of paper that was laying on the shelf, just in time before my leg gave in underneath me and I collapsed on the floor next to the tub, knocking some of the items on the floor. I had to see it. My hands were trembling as I started to unfold the carefully folded notebook paper. Letters and words started to appear, shaking in front of my eyes.
"Hayden? Are you all right?"
Matt's knocking on the door went unnoticed. I was holding the paper, written in his handwriting, and I couldn't read past the first sentence. My hands were shaking so badly, I felt as if all the air was sucked out of my lungs. I couldn't breathe.
Matt burst into the bathroom. I looked at him. There was just no way. It was just too impossible and bizarre to see him standing there and at the same time to hold a piece of paper that meant otherwise.
"You bastard," I croaked from the floor and managed to get up.
(Matt's point of view)
Shaking, I placed the mug with his tea out on the counter. I felt drained, emotionally and physically. Having Hayden here right now did not fit any of my plans or expectations. I still couldn't believe that he had waited for me. That was so in his character, to worry about other people that it made me feel very guilty. He was freezing outside for God knows how long. I looked at the kitchen clock - it was almost three in the morning. I sighed and nervously rolled up my sweatshirt sleeves. Nothing was going as planned tonight, and I didn't know what to do next. Hayden's presence was actually bothering me now, probably for the first time in all the time that I'd known him. And I knew why. Because now he knew, now he could see what kind of person I really am. No more hiding. No more lies. In theory, that should make things easier, but at this moment, it didn't seem that way. I shook my head, leaning on the counter. This is so fucked up to be -
A loud crash came from the bathroom. Within seconds, I was by the door, knocking warily on it.
"Hayden?" There was no answer. I knocked again, but not until I heard the muffled sigh inside I swung the door open. My heart sank. There was no way I could prepare myself for the sight in there.
Hayden was sitting on the floor, with his back against the bathtub. In his hand he was holding...
Oh, shit.
He looked at me with something in his eyes that I hadn't seen for a long time, and I was praying never to see it again.
"You, bastard," came from him. It was not his normal voice, the voice that I knew and loved. It was a growl, a menacingly quiet snarl that came from deep within him as he jumped onto his feet faster than a panther, locking his dark eyes onto mine. I tried to step back, but I was frozen in space. The look in his eyes blocked any rational thought in me.
I was the new freshman all over again, and I had just knocked a big guy off his feet in the hallway of the Chemistry building. And he was waiting for me to get up, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes spitting fire, waiting so he could pummel me into a bloody pulp.
That was the same look Hayden had in his eyes when he jumped on his feet with a snarl, and now he was moving towards me in what seemed like slow motion.
"You, bastard..." he repeated, coming closer. His voice was almost a whisper now: "...it took me years to find someone like you in my life...and you almost took that away...I won't let you...I won't..."
He grabbed me, grabbed me by the neck with both of his hands, before I could react or say anything, he pushed his whole body into mine while pulling my face into his. Next thing I knew, his lips were on mine, kissing me almost violently, kissing me-oh, my God-Hayden is kissing me, he is kissing me with such a force that my head is spinning, kissing me ferociously, oh he is kissing me, this is unreal, this is so unreal-
I started to kiss him back, trying, tasting those lips that were setting me on fire. It was still so unbelievable, so unthinkable and mind-boggling that I was kissing Nicki, that my hands were on his body, fully engulfing the feel of his strong body while he was holding my head and still having his lips firmly planted on mine.
We were kissing each other for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, he unlocked his mouth from me, gasping, breathing his fiery breath into my mouth while he was still holding my face so that our foreheads were touching, our bodies still remaining embraced, still holding tightly each other. I just couldn't let him go. I kept my eyes closed, as if feeling that, if I opened them, the magic would be gone, that this would be only a dream, and he would be gone from my life. Not now.
I felt something hot falling on my hand. And again. I opened my eyes. He was still looking down, somewhere at my chest. Another tear rolled down his face, falling on my sweatshirt. Another one followed, landing on my forearm. I grabbed him, as tightly as I could while he buried his face in my neck. Deep sobs were shaking his whole body as he was crying on my shoulder, crying without making a sound. I was still holding him, holding him tightly, not letting him move. At this moment, I couldn't think of separating myself from Hayden, ever again. Even though I knew I should feel calm and peaceful, I still couldn't grasp the weight of everything that happened, all of the events that led to this one, this unbelievable one, the moment that I have been waiting for so long that I gave up and all hope. All I could thing of was that I have Hayden in my arms, and that there will be no more lies in between us.
No more lies.
End of ch 15.
P.S. The song that Hayden is playing is Simple Plan's "Untitled".
For more info, go to the Yahoo Group (which is always open for criticism and comments - it is there for you to vent about the storyline, long breaks in between the chapters and updates).
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/rip_tide/
Take care
HF