Meant to be Broken [boyxboy] [Watty Awards 2012]

Chapter Two

The next afternoon, after spending an entire day avoiding the ever-present Sam, Ives plopped himself down on the basement sofa and began flipping through channels on the TV. He had his own TV in his room, but it didn't have eight hundred channels like the one in the basement living room did. Fifteen minutes later he had determined that there was nothing worth watching and turned on his Xbox. He was in the process of deciding what game to play when his sister thudded down the stairs and sat down next to him.

"Let's play Call of Duty," she demanded. "I need to shoot people."

Ives got up to put the game in. "Single again?" he asked.

Kylle just leaned back against the back of the couch. "People are so stupid," she declared.

Ives thought of Sam and had to agree. He handed his sister a controller as he returned to the couch.

"Do you ever wonder when you'll meet your soul mate?" Kylle questioned abruptly.

Ives looked over at her, one eyebrow raised quizzically. "First you have to believe in having a soul," he replied sarcastically.

She rolled her eyes at him. "I mean it."

"So do I," he said with a shrug.

"You really don't believe in souls and all that? Don't you think Dad's in Heaven?" she questioned.

He shrugged again, acknowledging that this question had been a large part of his current depression. "I don't think so. I know that's what everyone keeps saying, but I just don't know. There's no proof that Heaven even exists."

His sister smiled sadly. "I'm so glad I actually have someone to talk to now. I get so upset when people tell me 'he's in God's hands now'. He's not. There is no God. There is no Heaven. Dad's just gone, and we have to accept that. No use trying to comfort ourselves so we don't have to accept the truth."

Ives nodded sadly, but in agreement. "I just wish it were easy to deal with."

"So do I," Kylle agreed with a sigh. "I hate seeing Mom like this."

"At least she finally went back to work," Ives pointed out, trying to look at the only semi-bright side he could find.

"But that's it. Good thing I know how to do laundry. By the way, it's your turn to make dinner," his sister reminded him.

"Grilled cheese," he announced.

"How gourmet," she joked.

Ives grinned. "I'm a chef."

Sam wasn't giving up on Ives, exactly as promised. The next day Ives was stunned when he was approached by a gorgeous young woman, only to discover that it was Sam. He managed to quickly escape the situation, only to later encounter the hottest guy he had ever laid eyes on – and yet again, it was Sam.

Far from being confused by his admirer's ability to completely transform from one incredible being to another, Ives was enraged by the whole situation. He was sick of Sam trying constantly to get his attention by trying to make him feel desire. It was a remarkably unattractive way to act. All Ives wanted was to be left alone.

Sam gave him a wink in the hallway after the last class of the day, and Ives marched up to him – Sam was still dressed much more clearly as a man than usual – battling with himself not to scream and punch the loser straight in the face. His fists clenched at his side, but Sam didn't seem to notice his anger.

"Hey, babe," he said with a smile.

Ives glared daggers at him. "I'm not your babe," he growled, finally letting out the words he'd been fighting to hold back. "Leave. Me. The. Fuck. Alone."

Sam's expression fell, but only for a moment. "Oh, you don't mean that."

It took all of Ives' control not to raise his fists and strike. "I do. Fuck off, Sam. I'm sick of this shit. I'm sick of you."

This time, when Sam's smile became a frown, it stayed that way. "Fine," Sam spat. "I'll find someone better than you." A defiant glare was shot at Ives as Sam turned and marched away.

Ives just watched him go, holding back more swear words and urges to punch things. With a grunt, he turned and made his way through the halls to the parking lot where Kylle sat waiting for him, leaned back in the driver's seat of her car with some rock band from the 80s blaring a guitar solo.

"What took you so long?" she demanded, turning the radio down as he climbed in.

"I was telling Sam to fuck off," Ives stated, yanking roughly on his seat belt and jamming it into the buckle.

"It's about time," Kylle declared.

Ives snorted, having nothing else to say. He was still fighting mildly violent urges.

"You know what I think?" his sister asked, but didn't wait for his response before telling him. "I think you should start flirting with people. Just innocent flirting with people you find attractive. It would certainly make that Sam person realize you don't need him. Him? Her? Whatever."

He snorted again. "I think that would make me more of a target for the 'affection'."

"Nah," she argued. "Just try it and see what happens. It might help you."

He doubted that.