What It Takes To Move On (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 4

Authour's Note: Sorry, this took much longer to write than I was planning. It's almost exam week and I'm just trying to deal with asshole teachers who decided to assign projects last minute. This is sort of a filler chapter but it's important for the big plot that's going to come up very soon. I know I'm not as popular as other authors out there, so any form of publicity is great for me. If you wish to support this story, comment, vote, share it with your friend, shout it to the skyline, I don't know. I appreciate everything you guys have to say. Enjoy the chapter! Next chapter should be out by mid-next week at the latest!

Chapter 4

I woke to an empty house, just like I did every Sunday morning. Even though Mike and I stayed awake to the brisk of dawn, my inner alarm clock woke me at 10 am. As I started to get up, I felt a slight ache in my back, most likely from sleeping on the couch. The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes, was the Mike wasn’t there. His blanket from last night was folded into neat squares and his cushion was stacked on top of the pile.

Still half asleep, I somehow managed my way to my bathroom and began to wash the sleep from my eyes. The cooling sensation of the water was the perfect wakeup call. I brushed my teeth and ran a comb through my messy hair that was getting way too long. Making myself marginally attractive, I headed down the stairs and to the kitchen for some breakfast.

I didn’t have much of an appetite after last night’s junk fest, so I stuck with a simple piece of toast and coated it in peanut butter. As I munched away on my sandwich, I felt my phone vibrate in the pocket of my pants. Recently, my phone had just been giving me anxiety. Just looking at the damn thing reminded me of all the drama that was going on around me.

However, I knew it was time to face the music. I checked the text from Mike first. He was just letting me know that he had to go to work and that’s why he wasn’t there. The next one was from Angela an hour ago, saying she wanted to meet up with me and talk about what happened. The last text was the one sent to me yesterday by Tyce.

Come on, Jack. We should talk about this. You weren’t supposed to find out this way. Please reply to me. I can’t lose you.

Delete.

I almost scoffed at his stupidity. Almost. Instead of scoffing, I felt my face heat up in frustration and I had to practically force the tears back into my eyes. I wasn’t going to lose my hair over this. I quickly went upstairs and changed into some shorts and a sleeveless shirt. I grabbed my iPod and my headphones and went for a run around the neighbourhood.

I’m not sure how long I ran for. I wasn’t even sure how far I’d gone. I just kept running and running and suddenly I was back on the steps of my front porch. It was time for a hot shower. The feeling of the hot water running down my frail body was much needed. I could feel the soreness in my back temporarily leaving my body, although I knew that with all the stress upon me, the feeling would be back.  

Somehow, after my shower, I ended up lying down on my stomach on the damn living room couch again. It was like a disease. I couldn’t get up at all. Until I realized that I never replied to Angela’s text. My inner thoughts were telling me that replying was a bad idea. I needed to get away from the drama, not go looking for it. But I knew I had to face the music sooner or later. And Angela was my friend. She didn’t know any better. That’s why she thought I was the bad guy. If she knew what really happened, she wouldn’t be acting this way. Not telling her was my own choice.

I dragged my heavy body across the floor and into the kitchen. Somehow, gravity felt much stronger today. I picked up my phone from where it was charging (because for some reason, it always seemed to be dying.) and after some careful thought, I managed to come up with something appropriate to send.