The Stranger

14

Fuck my life!
I was sleeping next to Matt. His snoring in my ears. His breath on my neck. His arm around my waist. His leg wrapped around mines. I was dreaming, but awake at the same time, enjoying that moment. My glimpse of bravery. My attempt to move to the next level with him. My heart was pumping like crazy in my chest but calm at the same time. Soft waves surrounded my body. My skin hot at Matt's touch, and my mind serene, knowing that he was in my bed, sleeping with a happy expression painted on his handsome face when my phone started to buzz.
I clenched my teeth in annoyance and answered it. “Hello?”
A trembling voice spoke: “Lucas, it's me. Erik.”
I slipped from Matt's arms and sited on the bed, with my bare feet hanging out.
“What is it?” I asked, worried. I could tell something happened to him. The call at those hours of the night. His shaking voice.
“I'm in trouble,” he informed me. Then paused for a moment, inhaling deeply. “I am at the police station. Can you come?”
“Matt is here,” I said.
“You can't tell him. Not now.”
We ended the call, and I rushed putting on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, leaving my apartment in an ominous silence.
When I was in the car, I called my sister. I knew that Erik needed help from a lawyer and not from his Spanish teacher.
Obviously, Emily was super mad at me because I interrupted her evil, beauty, sleep. But at the end, she accepted to give me a hand with Erik.

*****
The police station was quiet, strangely quiet. Like in a horror movie.
I looked at the front door for a few seconds, imagining that some kind of a monster was waiting for me at the other side. Maybe, he was wearing a police uniform with one of those big, creepy, smiles printed on his face like a character of a Stephen King's book.
A cold shiver ran down my spine when I finally grabbed the courage to open the door and enter. I couldn’t say why I was feeling that way. Perhaps was the hour, the dark sky, and the silent street or maybe the fact that Erik was in there, surely in big trouble, while Matt was sound asleep in my bed, unaware of the situation. Maybe was the fear that something bad would have happened soon, and I could lose Matt again. Losing Matt? He wasn’t even mine. Losing our friendship, and the routine that we have built for us.
Too many thoughts were swimming in my mind when I reached the front office and asked for my student. Thoughts that didn’t let me focus and be lucid.
A young policewoman attended me, with sleepy eyes and a bored expression. She told me to wait for the lawyer because I wasn’t allowed to see him. I wasn't anybody. And after 30 minutes and the help of my sister, who arrived with a giant frown painted on her forehead and a grumpy face, they let me see him.
We stayed in a narrow room, with white walls and no window.
Erik seemed a small kid, and no the bossy teenager he was at school or at home. His eyes were red and his skin unusually pale, except for a few bruises present on his face and hands. Drops of blood had stained his gray jumper and his shoes. 
"You came," he muttered, tired and scared.
"Of course."
"I didn't do anything wrong," he rushed, defending himself. "I was with some kids from school in a bar, and a group of idiots began to mess with us, yelling names and shit. So, we had to defend ourselves."
I sighed, tired of his excuses. Was in those moments, when I regretted my choice to become a teacher. A bitter and unnatural feeling that disturbed me every time I felt it. But, sometimes, dealing with their behaviors and their uncountable excuses was too much. Luckily, I loved my job deeply. And the good moments always won over the bad ones. 
"First, you made a mistake when you decided to go into a bar even though you were a minor. And just for this, they will make you pay. Secondly, you know you have records. Why jumping into a fight with your stupid friends?" I asked, hungry. Even though I was fully aware that he was a teenager, and at that time of your life you don't think when your friends ask you to fight. You fight. That's it. Anything can stop you from feeling the taste of a good punch.
The sensation of your hand cracking some bone is exquisite and addictive.
Erik spoke again, clenching his hands on the table that separated us. “I go always there. It was just bad luck that those morons were in the same place I was.”
I shook my head, in disappointment. “Erik, grow up!” I shouted out. “You feel old enough to go to bars, drinking, and punching idiots. Then, you are also old enough to deal with the consequences.”
He rubbed the bruised hands on his face in despair and then, he started to punch the table like a crazy animal. “Why? Why always me?”
I grabbed his hands, trying to avoid another problem with the police. “Calm down. Emily is here. She will help you.”
He nodded, sniffling. “I am sorry,” he whispered at the end.
“I don’t need your apologies. But another person does it,” I said, referring to his brother, who was still in the dark. And I couldn’t imagine what he would do once heard the news.
“I know,” he mumbled, bowing his head.

*****

A kind police officer, also a good friend of my sister, brought us some hot tea to drink and relax our nerves that were jumping like crickets. And when Emily finally entered the room, we didn’t dare even to breathe. We simply looked at her like a goddess ready to destroy our lives.
“Erik, you are so stupid,” she said, throwing a bunch of papers on the table. “Tonight, you can go home, but you will face a trial. And be prepared, because this time they won’t be clement like the last time. One of the guys is at the hospital.”
At those words, Erik’s lower lip began to tremble, and a rain of tears started to fall from his eyes. “Am I going to jail? I can’t go to jail.”
I was mad at him but sad at the same time. I didn’t want for him to deal with prison and real criminals. Not him too. His brother was enough.
I put an arm around his shoulders, letting him know that I was there.
He gazed at me with a frightened expression, pleading for help, and I didn’t know what to do or what to say to tranquilize him. “Will he go to prison?” I asked my sister, thinking of Matt’s reaction and his pain.
“I don’t think so,” Emily stated firm, and my heart pacified immediately. “Probably you will be ordered to do community service, and maybe pay a fine.”
Erik nodded like a robot and then said: “Okay!” with a childish voice.
“Can we go now?” Erik was safe for the moment. And my new first priority was Matt, who was waiting for me at home, maybe he was awake already and puzzled about my absence.
*****
Once at home, I grabbed a blanket and a pillow for Erik, and I went back to my room, sliding next Matt's naked body.
I was tired. We were all tired after spending almost the entire night at the police station.
Emily ran at home without a goodbye. And Erik didn’t say a word after leaving that aseptic room.
I tried to be quiet, but when my head fell on the pillow, Matt turned around, and with his eyes still closed spoke: "Where were you? Is that uncomfortable sleeping with me?"
"I had something to do," I muttered, observing his parted lips. And I wanted to add that I would have slept next to him my entire life. But I preferred to censor my deep desire. The brave part of me was gone with the first light of the day.
"Something happened?"
"We will talk later."
"Better now. I am already awake."
"But, I am tired. I had like two hours of sleep all night," I complained, trying to avoid the conversation. Because I honestly didn't know how to start it. He was so calm and content in that moment. He fitted in my bed, perfectly, and I wanted to enjoy his hot body for another long instant.
" You can sleep later, while I am making breakfast."
"Matt, waiting a couple of hours won't kill you," I said trying to relax, closing my eyes. But he is stubborn and smart. He scented that something was wrong. So finally, he opened his big blue eyes and stared at me. "What happened?" he asked seriously and fully awake.
I sighed in defeat. "I was at the police station with Erik."
He sat on the bed. His eyes bulging out in surprise and anger. "What?" he shouted out.
"Calm down! Everything is fine for now."
"Where is he?" Matt got up and moved through the door, with heavy steps.
"He's sleeping in the living room," I informed, following him. "you can talk with him later."
Obviously, Matt didn't listen to me and went straight near the sofa, where his little brother was sound asleep. "What he did?" he asked, lowering his voice.
I grabbed his arm, pulling him away. "I will explain everything in the kitchen. I need coffee."

*****

In the kitchen, with hot coffee and fresh pancakes, I explained everything to Matt.
“He is a stupid idiot,” he stated, shaking his head, mortified.
“He is a teenager. Most of the time, they simply don’t think.”
He fought with a lock of rebel hair, and muttered with a tired voice: “I’m killing myself for giving him a better life.”
I could barely understand his disappointment; his frustration in that moment; the fear of seeing the history repeat itself.
We sat in silence, eating and thinking. Matt about his brother, and I about him. Matt, smoking his problems away. And I, studying his lips with a half-smoked cigarette between them.
The sun shining through the colored glasses of the window, and the birds chirping in the distance. A happy portrait that didn’t fit with our mood. 
“What am I going to do?” he questioned, worried. “Can he still go to college?”
“Don’t think about this, now. We will figure everything out.”
“Thanks.”
“What for?”
“Be here, with me and deal with my shitty life.”
“We’re friends,” I said, hating that word every day more. 
“Friends,” he repeated, and I felt like I had just gulped down a spoon of cyanide.