Possession (boyxboy)

Chapter 6: The dorm

"That's because you're full of shit Matty Stevens!"
☆

Matty lays on the bottom bunk of his bed, staring up at the metal slats above him, part listening to the tales being told around him by the other boys mainly about the girls. 

"Yeah... we kissed already. Over by the girls block." Mark blabbed rather proudly to the others who were hanging on his every word. 

"What exactly was it like?" An over excitable Kevin Goddard asks, leaning in a little closer to Mark, so as not to miss a beat.

Mark looks upwards as if to recall the experience like a far away dream. "Like really sexy hot." He replies enthusiastically, whilst nodding with satisfaction.

Matty side eyes the group and cannot help but let a snort leave his nose.  He doesn't mean to do it. He doesn't mean to draw attention to himself, but the slight unexpected noise he has created draws all eyes on him. 

"What's so funny?" Mark asks, brows furrowed, less than amused."

"N...nothing."  Matty says, wanting to shrink in on himself for making such a rookie error. He knew deep down that this would be far from enough for Mark to let things lie, but he still hoped. 

"What would you know about kissing girls?" Mark bites back at Matty. And Matty doesn't know why he cannot stay quiet. Why can't he just stay quiet?

"I know." he says, not giving Mark the satisfaction of eye contact, or any elaboration. 

Mark gets up from his circle of friends or minions, depending on which way one wanted to look at it and charges towards Matty on the bottom bunk. "Hey!" Mark barks at Matty, making Matty at least look at the boy hovering over him. "What do you mean you know?...prove it." 

"I don't have to prove anything to you." Matty says as calmly as he can. He knew deep down that he could potentially be playing with fire but he wasn't about to put the little kiss with his best friend in the spotlight for ridicule and gossip. 

"That's because you're full of shit Matty Stevens. You're just a pussy with a baby blanket." Mark teases. His words really hurt. Matty was not a pussy and he did not intent on bringing that blanket. Though right now, he felt like he needed it. 

Matty decides on the original plan 'A' response, turning his back on Mark to face the wall. 
"What did I say...full of shit." Mark snorts, earning the odd chuckle from one or two of the other boys.  

"Just leave him Mark. I want to know what happened next between you and Helen." Kevin whines, making Mark return to his spot on the Aztec style weave carpet to further divulge about how he'd 'accidentally' brushed a hand against her left boob through her coat.

As Matty stares at the magnolia wall, his eyes felt heavy with unwept tears. He wished he was in the girls dorm with Joy. To know he had one friend was all he needed in this world and screw everyone else.

*** 

11:15pm, was the last and final time Miss Duncan had needed to come in and tell Matty's dorm to 'shhh'. The room was now a calm space, with just the breaths of sleepers being heard and the odd vocal noise from Donald Mills who was waffling in his sleep. 

Matty had fallen asleep as soon as the noise had settled and had resisted the urge to secretly pull a particular brown piece of material from his bag, into his bed.  

Mark had been the last to settle, with opened packets of sweets and crisps littered around his bedding, which he had snuck in from his backpack. He had an opened bottle of water resting on a small table by his bed.  Thirst probably being a result of the over indulgence. Matty remembers thinking before he closed his eyes that he hoped Mark would be as sick as a dog, but it seemed that he could handle his snacks quite well as he lay there snoring. 

It was then, in the near quiet of the dorm that it happened...

Tic tic tic tic tic....

The metallic sound of a zip pulling itself down.  The metal teeth opening up, seemingly on their own, creating a hole just big enough for something to make it's way out. 

Like a fluffy serpent, from that tiny gap, emerged the brown blanket. It spilled from Matty's bag, onto the floorboards, somehow snaking itself across the rug to Mark's bed. It coils up a bed leg, working its way to the pillow of an unsuspecting Mark. It glides to his hand, still resting next to a bag of chewits and gently wraps itself around his wrist. 

Mark is now unknowingly becoming a puppet and the blanket the string as it manipulates his arm into knocking back the heavy bedding, Mark now lays exposed on his back in his London Olympics t-shirt. His arm, seemingly out of his control, is being lifted above his head by the blanket and is forced to his side, knocking the opened bottle of water over. The contents spilling slowly onto the mattress, working it's way towards where Mark lay. 

The blanket suddenly retracts its grasp from the limp wrist, letting the arm drop back onto the pillow, before it slithers to the floor and glides like a silk hanky towards the slight crack under the closed door of the dorm, before disappearing altogether.