20. BEFORE
"You're supposed to be my friend!"
"I am your friend!" Adam yelled back but the words felt hollow on his tongue. James seemed to notice it too, and the boy flinched.
"That's not true," James muttered and his eyes shifted away as though they were focusing on something that Adam couldn't see. "You're always with that stupid fag now." His eyes turned hard as they met Adam's once more. "Think he's better than me, do ya?"
"N-No," Adam lied as he took a tentative step back, his heart thudding against his chest, ready to burst right out of his body. "Matt is not a fag," he then muttered very quietly; he didn't want James to hear. Hearing that would make James angry because it was only he who Adam was supposed to defend, he was supposed to be Adam's best friend. His only friend.
James heard.
Adam barely had time to let out a strangled cry as a hard fist came into contact with his jaw. The force was so sudden it took a few seconds before he felt an agonizing pain shoot across his face, shuddering its way down to his throat before being transmitted out of his mouth in the form of a scream that tore through his vocal chords. His mind felt dizzied and the vision in his eyes was blurred. Adam felt dirt on his mouth. Had he fallen to the ground? It felt like it. His fingers curled around chunks of grass, focusing on squeezing them just so he could distract himself from the pain...oh...it hurt...it hurt so much...
"J-J-ames," he rasped and his mouth immediately seemed to flood with something wet, sour; it tasted horrible and his stomach churned as he realized. Unmistakeable. Blood. Some of it pooled at the edge of his mouth, trickling down onto his chin like a red waterfall.
Adam could barely see but he felt James's body now crouched next to him. His own body tightened, ready for the next blow, but instead felt fingers curl around his arm tightly. He could feel them shaking in their grasp.
"I'm sorry," James choked out, like he was the one who'd just been socked in the face. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"For what?" Adam dared ask sarcastically, feeling rather faint at the same time.
"Stop it!" James hissed and Adam finally looked up to see that the other boy was crying, fat, wet tears. For some reason, Adam wanted to laugh. He'd never thought of James looking like that. All red-faced, teary-eyed, with a bit of snot dribbling down his nose. Pathetic. He was pathetic. And revolting. Yes, Matt would've used that word. Revolting. Revolting. Revolting.
"Get the fuck off me."
In all of his eleven years, Adam had only sworn once. Mum said it was the worst habit you could have. But he liked it. He liked it. And now, seeing the look of shock on James's face, made him realize he wasn't going to stop here.
"I said," he hissed, using his free hand to pull James's fingers away from his arm, "get the fuck off me." And, for good measure, he pushed the other boy – perhaps with a little more force than was initially intended. Then, clumsily, he got to his feet, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe off the blood that stained his chin.
Much to Adam's surprise, James remained crouching on the ground, staring at him as though waiting for something else to happen.
Adam wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
"You hurt Matt," he said simply. "And now you've hurt me. I hope we're finally even now."
"You're my friend," James whined instead. "We're friends."
"I'd rather die than ever be your friend ever again," Adam hissed back. "Stay away from me. And Matt. Unless you want to get hurt." His voice lowered, somewhat without him intending it to; he could barely recognize it as his own. "You know I could really hurt you, if I wanted to. You've seen me do it to people you didn't like. You know, James."
Adam turned to walk away before James could respond. But he'd only taken a few steps when he quickly whirled around, ready to fight back, as he heard James scramble to his feet and charge towards him with a look on his face that made Adam's blood run cold. He threw his hands to his face defensively but James wrenched them apart before grabbing the other boy's face and pressing his mouth forcefully against his.
"Mmpf!" Adam, spluttering, shoved James back so hard he fell back on the ground with a loud thud! The blood roared in Adam's ears as his breathing grew more ragged with shock, his eyes trained on James whose face seemed drained of all colour.
"What—" Adam began but the other boy let out a cry.
"No!" he yelled. "No!"
"James, it's—"
"I'll kill you!" James interrupted once more. "I'll kill you if you tell anyone! Adam, I'll kill you!"
"What," was the only thing Adam could muster as a response before he shook his head, suddenly wondering if this was all just a very strange and elaborate dream. Did boys dream about kissing other boys in their dreams? No, but it wasn't a kiss. Not to Adam at least. He was only eleven, but even eleven year olds knew kisses weren't all forcing and pushing and dangerously violent and...uncomfortable. It made his skin crawl just thinking about it.
"Nothing happened," he finally said. James looked at him, his eyes as wide as saucers, almost stunned at the response, before he nodded back. Adam noticed some of the colour seemed to return to James's face.
"I—I've got to go." The other boy quickly scrambled to his feet, dusting some of the mud off of his trousers, before shoving his hands into his pockets and giving Adam a look that was – and he didn't ever think this capable of James – pained. "See you around, Fernandes," James said with a casual tilt of his head which Adam knew to be a nervous tic of his.
"See ya," Adam replied, knowing full well this was the last time he'd ever see that familiar, icy pair of eyes.
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