Until Death Do US Part (boyxboy)

Chapter Eight

Thomas’ P.O.V

I rolled out of bed feeling like pure and utter road kill. My mother and I had had a little stand off the night before because I called Jay after Julie’s funeral and it left me feeling rough. But not as rough as Chemo after school will make me feel.

I stepped into the warm spray of the shower and let the heat of the water try to wash away the dread I was feeling. I was almost certain that Jayson wouldn’t be at school so soon after that.. and I would have to face the day alone.

Word had spread that I was cancerous and people were treating me like I was contagious. Jayson and our lunch gang, minus Kaleb, had been doing a pretty good job at keeping people in check. But who am I kidding; they are really Jay’s friends. I had no way of knowing whether they would keep on defending me without him here.

I turned off the water and stepped out, blindly grabbing for my towel. I dried off and wrapped it around my waste. I shuffled through my closet trying to find something to wear. I didn’t really want to wear anything but the baggiest sweats I owned. Unfortunately that has all I have been wearing lately. So I settled on a pair of loose fitting basketball shorts and one of Jayson’s too-big shirts that I kept here for him when he stayed over.

Normally I skipped breakfast, unless Jayson was over, but I decided it was a good idea to fill up my belly as much as possible before another treatment. I placed two Ego waffles into the slits of the toaster and pressed the button down. I got out a plate and a fork and dug through the cabinets for syrup. By the time I found the Aunt Jemima bottle my waffles had popped up.

“Owwie! Son of a-!” I wailed picking up the really freaking hot waffles and burning the crap out of my fingertips. I flung them onto my plate and sat at the table.

I heard the horn of the bus honk and just left my half eaten breakfast on the table in my mad dash out of the door. I did manage to pick up my bag and sling it over my shoulder in the process. I muttered an apology to my bus driver in passing and dropped down into the single seat in the very back. It had been reserved as my seat for the past week because lord knows the boy with cancer can’t share a seat with someone without giving it to them.

I leaned my head against the back of the seat in front of me in frustration. It was extremely irritating that people were okay with me being gay, but now that I was sick they were treating me like some kind of aids ridden animal. Like seriously did they think that I that I got it from being gay?

Similar thoughts bounced around my head all morning until I wondered into gym. I had been visiting Tommy in Journalism every day since I brought in the note that excused me, but because he wasn’t here I had to stay in class. People gawked at me thinking I had transferred out here. I took a seat on the bleachers next to Steven, who used to be my teammate during basketball.

“Hey, man,” I said brushing my black fringe out of my face, “When did you do that?” I asked pointing to his arm. It was bandaged in a sling.

“Oh, right after you stopped coming to class. Is it true what they say?” he asked bending his head, in a whisper.

“What do you mean?” I asked, knitting my brows.

“That you have cancer from being gay,” he whispered. “I didn’t even know you were gay,” he added almost to himself.

I clenched my jaw. I had an idea that’s why people were treating me this way, but I wasn’t sure. “Steven, I always thought you were a sensible guy. You cannot get cancer from being gay. And you can tell whoever has been spreading that rumor that, I, Thomas Woods, am a virgin and so is Jayson Vance.”