Claustrophobia (Boy x Boy) ✔

27) ALMOST

*Cody Walker's POV

"No one paid me anything and I really do like you." Ian's hand was holding mine again.

Lies, lies, lies.

It's all lies.

"No, you don't. No one does." I sighed, blinking more tears onto my cheeks. 

"Cody, please.." Ian began desperately. 

"I'm so fucking tired, but you just never stop. Enough, okay?" I snapped, wrenched my hand free and started backing away. 

"Cody —" Ian started again, but all I could think was: enough. I had had enough and now I needed to get away. I needed to be left alone.

So I turned on my heels and started running as fast as I possibly could. Ian ran after me and I think he was yelling something, but he couldn't keep up for long. I was one hell of a runner; they could humiliate me and they could beat me up, but they could never catch me. 

I almost fell for it. All the glances, the dreamy smiles and the hand holding mine. When Ian kissed me, it made my chest fill with the kind of warmth I hadn't felt for such a long time I thought it was gone forever. When he told me he liked me, I felt like my life was finally turning for the better. I felt like I had an answer for the longing I had had in my chest for so long I was certain it had always been there.

I had almost felt lovable, like I was worth something after all. Almost.

But then I remembered.

"Good thing I was paid for it. No one, absolutely no one, will ever want to touch you for free."

Apparently the five years weren't enough. Apparently Ian wanted to make sure he would break me into pieces, rip me apart and crush me to the ground. Because nothing was ever enough, not until I was dead and buried. Not as long as there was still air in my lungs and my heart still beating, because they still had something left to take.

It was almost poetic how after all these years, Ian chose this way to give the final blow. He made them hate me because I'm gay and then he made me believe he liked me, only to show me no one would love a dirty fag like me.

Ian had been so plausible I had almost believed him. Almost.

When I had been running for a good while and it felt like my lungs were on fire, I realised my phone was ringing. Then it stopped — and it started again.

I halted, realising I didn't need to keep running anymore. I dug out my phone from the pocket of my hoodie, thinking it was probably Oat. They were the only one from the party who had my number. 

But it wasn't Oat. 

I checked the time: 1.30 am. Mom was calling. She was calling me in the middle of the night. I pressed the green receiver icon and tried to catch my breath.

"Where have you been? We've been calling you all night long." Mom sounded shaken if not even angry. It was clear she had been crying. 

"I was.. at a party." I was still slightly out of breath and I was starting to panic. Something was wrong. 

"Partying? Of course you were. What could possibly be more important than to get wasted with your friends, huh?" Mom accused me and I felt like I would burst out crying again.

"Mom, what's wrong?" I whispered instead. 

"Your dad had a heart attack. We've.." I couldn't hear anything after the words 'dad' and 'heart attack'.

"I'm so sorry.." I mumbled, my voice sounding distant and unfamiliar. 

"Your siblings need you. Cole and Chloe need you. So stop being selfish and come here ASAP." Mom didn't talk like that. Not even when she was angry. She had never called me selfish, she had never accused me of drinking and only caring about my friends. 

"Okay, mom. I'll be there." As soon as I closed the line, I smacked my fist on a concrete barrier that was surrounding some factory I didn't think I had seen before. Somehow I had just ended up in an industrial block and unfortunately the barrier just happened to be there on my side. 

Me, who never hit anyone, who didn't even want to hit anyone, started punching the wall ruthlessly. I sobbed, I cursed and I shouted, not giving a damn if someone heard or saw me. 

My dad had a heart attack. 

Ian kissed me.

My dad had a heart attack. 

I'm so selfish.

Then I stopped crying abruptly. I let my hand fall on my side. I took a deep breath and I started walking back home. 

Only when Kobe started asking me questions, I realised I was already there and I was standing in the living room. Blood was dripping from my knuckles to the floor and I thought I was making a mess, because I had forgotten to take off my shoes. 

"My dad had a heart attack. I need to go to the hospital." My voice sounded monotonic. I didn't know if I had said it already, so I kept repeating the words. 

Then I remember, vaguely, how Kobe sat me down at the kitchen table. I remember how he cleaned the paint off my face and how he cleaned and dressed my hand. I remember how I couldn't stop crying when he did so. 

I remember sitting in the back seat of someone's car. Kobe and Mylo were there with me, but I don't remember if there was someone else driving the car. I guess there must have been, since neither Mylo nor Kobe had a driver's license. 

I remember walking in the echoing hallways of the hospital. I remember how mom ran to hug me and how Cole and Chloe followed right after. I don't remember if we talked, I don't remember if we were crying or not. 

I remember how ashen and fragile dad looked on the hospital bed. I remember how my thoughts weren't making much sense. I remember the choking sensation in my throat, I remember the throbbing pain in my hand.

Other than that.. Nothing.