Stupid Little Blue Haired Boy (boyxboy)

Chapter two.

Home isn't really home anymore, just an empty box with pictures of the ghosts of the people we used to be trapped in glass boxes lining the walls.  Me and my brother, we're not the smiling little boys with mom approved haircuts any longer; we're not the two kids playing in the sand.  

He's hooked up with every girl at our school.

I'm just the kid nobody wants to get stuck with, yet every town seems to have.  

Nobody's home when I enter and the sound of my key in the lock echoes down the entire hallway.  It's warm inside, but I leave my jacket on and keep the hood up.

Under the first picture there's a miniature pride flag.  

Under the second, the number to Justin's house.

The third one hides no secret, as the picture displays everything we'd keep hidden behind it.  Me and Justin smile into the camera, flash reflecting off his lip ring and the stars glowing brilliantly in the background.

The fire burns bright in front of us, something the picture failed to capture.  It was the only thing keeping the hungry mosquitos off our flesh.

I'd give anything to be back in that moment, even if I had to sit there naked beside him, shivering in the outside air.  I'd even shave my entire head.

With no hair to hide behind, I'd be exposed, but there wouldn't be anything to hide from.  My protector would be there.

I trudge up the stairs.  My room is the first door on the right, Teddy's on the left.  I haven't taken down the picture Justin drew of us, sitting on the edge of the beach, staring into the waves.  He has his arm around me and I lean into his shoulder, taking in the scent of flannel and metal and warm human skin.  I drop my eyes as I twist open the doorknob and step into the dark.

I've covered my windows in tinfoil, and tacked a thick blanket over the opening for good measure.  No light can penetrate these four walls, and it's just the way I like it, dozens of black ringed faces staring at me with eyes that see nothing.  The words scrawled upon the surface are no longer legible.  

Before, I'd enjoy their company, attractive males for me to admire, and their females for me to forget in my fantasies.  Now, their company is suffocating.  I can't stand to be in a room with other people for more than a couple of minutes.

School is a struggle.

My thoughts travel to Timmy, and his blue hair.  So blue, it's almost painful.  It's unrealistic.

We've got kids like him here, just not quite so flamboyant.  And none quite as openly gay.

He'll fit right in.  

I can't help but wonder why he moved, though.  Why to this town, a sorry excuse for a refuge with only an over-exaggerated festival putting in on the map?  It's not like a big city, with loads of jobs either.  It's small and pathetic and as liberal as it seems, still a small town.

Gay couples still get dirty looks, I can assure you that.  We still are teenagers, after all.

Hours pass by in what seems like a matter of minutes.  The sound of a tired engine pulls into the driveway, and I roll over in bed to face the wall as my mother enters the house.  

She'll cook dinner, and knock on my door in hopes that I'll emerge to join the three of them for dinner, but give up and leave a plate outside my door.  It'll remain untouched, and Teddy will roll his eyes as he walks by, and pretty soon he'll be sitting in his room during dinner time, actually eating, unlike me.  In seconds, our puzzle will fall apart, despite the sixteen years it took to get it half finished.  

It's sad that she even tries anymore.  

When Justin would come over for dinner, she'd always be smiling.  He'd smile too, and feed me little bites off my plate that I would actually eat, and keep down, instead of forcing them into the toilet bowl after the meal was over.  

He was the only person who knew about that, too.

Everyone knew about the scars, and the medication and the therapy, I'm sure, but that was our little secret.

"I'll never tell anyone," he promised me, "if you keep down what I feed you."

I nodded.  "I promise."

The picture fades.  In reality, it's bitter and cruel.  Rain knocks against the covered window pane.  Teddy pulls up in his car, and then our father, until everyone is banging around downstairs, struggling to be heard over one another. 

There's yelling, there's always yelling.  Someone's feelings get hurt.  Same shit, different day.

I wait for the knock that never comes.  

When I get tired, I close my eyes.  Sleep doesn't come, and anger takes its place.

It's been three months-- I figure I'm in the anger stage by now.  It's mixed with a hint of depression that's always seemed to be there.  I've always been sad, but I just figured it comes with the territory.

We're just a group of sad teenagers.

My eyes blink open and I close them again.  Before I can fade into Justin, I get a flash of Timmy.  He smiles at me again, and vaporizes.  

Then I'm allowed down my normal path to dreamland once again.