Sweet Little Birds (BxB Romance, Completed)

Chapter 9: Crushed Cocoa

Islands of foamy cream floated in the brown liquid that spread over the meticulously polished white tiles.

Robin's mother looked at the mess on the floor. "You really must be feeling poorly," she stated, grabbing a mop to clean up the mess. "Let's get you to bed, son."

Robin shook his head, slowly gaining agency over his movements. "I need to go," he said, determination in his voice. "I need to get back to uni."

"Already?" Her voice was shrill and upset. . Robin usually didn't leave until Monday morning. "Can't you at least stay for dinner?"

"Already," he repeated, keeping his voice from trembling. He needed to get out of here and he needed to do so without wavering.

"Why?" she asked. "You don't have lessons until tomorrow."

"I just do," Robin replied because he didn't owe her an answer. He didn't owe her anything. "And I probably won't be home next weekend."

He might have been too brave with that one. But a date with a blonde boy was a strong motivator.

"I promised to do a thing with Des," he mumbled, braveness being replaced by reason. He needed to be smart about this if he ever wanted to fly free.

Quickly, Robin hurried toward the door--grabbing his backpack with his laptop and schoolbooks on the way--before his heroic streak ran out. But as he passed the living room, another burst of defiance bubbled up as he saw the scattered contents of the rainbow bag.

"This is mine," he said, quickly shuffling the contents together into a pile and shoving it into the half-broken bag. "I'm bringing it with me."

He took the colorful bag in his hands and walked out the door.

It all happened in a flurry where he barely had time to breathe. He just wanted to get out of that house. He wanted to never return. He wanted to be free.

"Robin! Come back!" his mother called behind him. But he didn't listen. Instead, he got in his car and drove away.

It wasn't until he was on the main road that the tears started rolling. Sobs shook his body and he pulled over by a rest stop to try to collect himself. Arms draped over the steering wheel and fists pounded on the dashboard as pain and frustration seeped out every pore of his body. All his fierce determination and stride seemed to pour out of him.

That's when his phone buzzed. Figuring it was his mom calling, Robin pulled the device out of his pocket and prepared to throw it out the window.

But the display didn't say Liza. It said Tyler. And suddenly, Robin's body filled with light flutters instead of violent sobs. This was what he'd fought for.

A deep breath in filled lungs with courage. A wipe across the face removed tears and snot. A shaking hand tried to press a green button.

Once he finally managed to press that button, Robin's brain ceased to work. He couldn't even remember how he usually answered a phone call.

A moment of painful silence passed. "This is Robin Erie," he finally stuttered. "Hello?"

"Hi, this is Tyler Caster," he heard on the other side. The voice sounded uncertain. Robin felt a sting of guilt. His awkward greeting had probably made it seem like he didn't know who was calling. Like he didn't have the number saved. Like he didn't care.

When he actually cared so much.

"I know," Robin replied, feeling panic rising in his chest. "I mean, I saw it on the screen. Sorry, I'm just a bit unfocused right now."

"I can call back later," Tyler offered quickly. "I was just going to ask about the assignment in the Psych course."

"It's fine. We can talk now." Robin realized that maybe he sounded too eager. But he didn't want Tyler to hang up. It felt like the voice on the other side was all he had to hold on to in this world. The voice tethered him to hope and freedom.

"I might have forgotten which chapters we're supposed to read."

This seemed like something Tyler could have texted about instead of calling. So why hadn't he? Robin didn't know, but the fact that Tyler had called made him incredibly happy. It seemed significant. As if Tyler knew that Robin was in distress.

"I..." Robin scoured his brains for the information Tyler asked for. It wasn't there. All he could find were bitter memories and cold hands on his forehead. "I... don't remember either. Let me..." He turned around to try to reach for his bag in the backseat. "Let me find my notepad."

A grunt escaped his throat as he fought to grab the bag. It was hopelessly out of reach.

"Don't bother with it," Tyler insisted, who probably heard the grunts and shuffling. "It's not that important. I just wondered." He paused for a moment. But he didn't end the conversation. Instead, Tyler lingered on the line. "Is something wrong, Robby?" The question was filled with genuine care.

"No..." Robin replied, not wanting to bother Tyler with his problems.

"You just sound different and you usually know exactly what chapters and pages are assigned without even looking at your notes. You're so damn smart."

Robin couldn't help smiling at the compliment. But simultaneously, tears started to fall again. During his whole childhood, no one ever asked him if something was wrong. The doctors did their tests and screenings but they never actually talked to him. They couldn't tell that he was in pain on the inside, as well as on the outside.

But Tyler could tell.

"I just... " The tears made it hard to speak. Tyler could probably hear that he was crying but Robin didn't care. "I just... fought with my mom," he said, unsure how to even explain what was going on. It was too much.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Tyler asked. The concern was palpable in his voice. "Or not talk about it... but like together. I mean, we could... get some milkshakes and burgers and not talk. Or talk. Whatever you want. Unless you want to be alone."

Robin nodded and blew his nose discreetly in a napkin from the glove compartment.

"That sounds good," he replied as light flutters washed the tears away. "To talk... or not talk. Together."

It almost sounded like a date.