perf*ct (b×b) ✔

forty-four: i'm not dad

nathan dawson's pov:

When I ran, my chest heaving with exertion and my lungs begging me to slow down, all I could think about was: how could Nicholas do that after everything dad put us through?

Even if I was just a child back then, I remembered it all too well. I never want to end up like dad did: ruined, deserted and battling with addiction so insurmountable he was ready to do anything just to get high.

His choice of drug was — or is for all I know — Percocet, a prescription painkiller he got for the pain he had in his busted shoulder. At first it was just for the pain, but over time he started craving the high the opioids gave him. He started needing more and more, and I don't even care to know where he was getting all the prescriptions he must have needed to maintain his addiction.

When I finally reached our house, I had to lean my hands on my knees and pant. All that exercise was going to be the death of me. I swallowed and straightened my back, walking past Nicholas' car. I was so angry I wanted to strangle him.

I stuffed the key in the keyhole with such force it was a miracle it didn't snap. Then I slammed the door shut behind me and stomped into the kitchen. Nicholas turned to look at me, a slight frown on his face, and set down the glass he had been holding. I just glared at him, sending daggers his way.

"What?" Nicholas took one look at my face and then crossed his arms on his chest, leaning back to the counter.

"H-he was so talented. Even after he b-broke his shoulder, he could have been so good at coaching." I blinked my eyes, swallowing back the tears. "A-and they were so happy, he and mom."

Just like for Nicholas, baseball was everything to dad. He started playing as soon as he could hold the bat, and he aced his way to MBL. Until the accident changed everything: he fell off the roof and landed on his shoulder. The torn ligaments and the fractured collarbone never healed properly, causing him pain and ending his career. 

Dad fell into the depths of depression for months. It made him bitter and volatile, straining his marriage to the point where mom threatened to divorce him. But then he got back on his feet and started coaching the Frostford High's Varsity team, seeming happier than ever.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Nicholas snapped. 

"T-the moodswings? How he was over the moon one minute and s-slamming doors the second? The insomnia? All those times he just d-disappeared without an explanation and how angry he got when you tried to a-ask him where he had been?" I hugged myself, feeling a lump in my throat. It made me realize I wasn't angry at all, I was sick of worry.

I didn't think I could go through that all over again. Especially not with Nicholas, who was supposed to be the golden boy. The one who actually had a bright future ahead and who could go anywhere. I couldn't even begin to understand why he would want to throw all that away, only to repeat dad's mistakes.

"You think I'm using?" Nicholas' jaw dropped and disbelief crossed his face.

"I can smell weed on your c-clothes." I accused him, wanting to wipe that awestruck expression off his face.

"Yeah, I smoke sometimes, but that doesn't make me a junkie. I'm not dad." Anger flashed in Nicholas' eyes and he threw his hands in the air, just like he had done before shoving me in the parking lot.

"Solar saw you with some guy.. H-He said he gave you something." I mumbled an explanation, taking a step back. Nicholas clenched his fists and jaw, pressing his eyes shut firmly. When he just stood there, his breathing fast and his head bowed. I was glued to my spot and my breath got stuck in my throat. 

I thought about the day dad almost killed Ralphie Levine, a boy from the team he was coaching. He had several allergies, including sting allergies. So, once he was stung by a wasp, his throat and face started swelling immediately. Instead of rushing to get his EpiPen, dad was comfortably high and slow to react.

It was a miracle Ralphie Levine didn't die that day, but I'm glad he didn't. Although it didn't make that big of a change: after the incident dad and the rest of our family were treated like common criminals. Looked down on and torn by the press. The following criminal suits, my parents divorce and the custody battles were all a blur to me.

"I'm not dad." Nicholas sighed. "I'm gay."

"What?"

"That guy Solar saw was Anshil." Nicholas let out a heavy breath and stuffed his hand in the pocket of his hoodie to pull out something. He held up something in his balled fist. "He came to give me this." 

Nicholas opened his palm, showing me a wooden bracelet. When I held it, bringing it closer to my eyes and being too stunned to talk, the kitchen grew silent. Only when I handed the bracelet back, Nicholas opened his mouth again. 

"I like him. I've liked him for a while." He shrugged, a smile passing on his lips briefly. "He came to bring me this, but it was just an excuse. He wants to tell people about us, but.. I.. My friends are a bunch of assholes. They make jokes about gays. I joke about gays all the time. How am I supposed to tell them I'm gay?"

When Nicholas let out a choked sob, his face contorting with shame, I only hesitated for a beat. Then I rushed to him and pulled him into a hug, feeling how the sobs shook his body when he couldn't hold back the tears anymore.

***

The next chapter is going to be from Nicholas' point of view, and I'm pretty excited about it. I hope you are too. ;)