Hormones and Lies

XIII

Eric

I laid with my hands laced over my stomach. My ceiling fan spun lazily around in circles, not making my room any cooler. It was useless having it on, really. I rolled onto my side, tucking my hands under my head and staring at the wall. Worry clouded my mind; was Michael ok? How was his arm?

I gripped my hair with both hands, rolling back onto my back. I shouldn't have left the hospital. The doctor had advised us to leave if we weren't immediate family, that Michael needed to rest. He was lucky his arm didn't need permanent restructuring. I assumed that the staff who'd assessed him the first time would under go some serious looking into; who doesn't know how to identify a broken arm? It's a wonder they got their jobs in the first place.

I let out a sigh and pushed myself off my bed, pulling on my converse and leaving the house, earphones plugged into my ears and phone tucked safely into my back pocket. I walked aimlessly around the neighbourhood, passing quietly by Michael's house. The orderly from his first hospital visit exited, thanking Mrs Joseph for her time. I quirked a brow, stopping mid step. Why the hell would he be at Michael's house? My fingers flew over my phone, sending Michael a quick text.

{To Michael💝: Are you at home?}

Michael answered within minutes.

{From Michael💝: No, still waiting on the plaster. Why?}

I slipped my phone back into my pocket, ripped my earphones out and whirled around, stalking toward the orderly. He had just turned out of Michael's house and onto the path when he came face to face with me.

"Oh, sorry, didn't see you there-,"

"Why were you at Michael's house?"

His face relaxed into a smirk and I could've slapped him.

"I was just wondering where he was. Have you seen him?"

"What's it to you?"

"I'm taking him out. We have plans to meet up and I wanted to arrange them."

The orderly spoke confidently and cockily. My heart sunk; what plans was he talking about? I tried to keep my confident stance and stern face but it wasn't happening. My shoulders slumped and my face fell. The orderly shoved past me, swaggering away like he was a sex god or something. Paranoia crept up through my stomach into my heart and mind. Maybe Michael didn't mean everything he said. Maybe he pitied me for being the new kid or maybe he's just stringing me along.

With a heavy heart I began my journey home. Perhaps Michael never truly liked me. Sadness settled over me like a thick knitted blanket as my feet stuffed against the pavement. My phone vibrated relentlessly in my pocket but I ignored it. Maybe this was all some cruel lie Michael had spun to make me feel better. Thick, fat tears began to roll down my cheeks, a flame of agony sparking in my heart. This flame felt like ice and it stung the corners of my eyes before leaking out onto my face. I entered my house and shuffled silently back to my room.

I didn't venture out when I was called for dinner. Instead, I wrapped myself in my duvet and cried into my pillow. I fell asleep to the sound of my pathetic sniffling, tears becoming sticky as they dried on my face.

— — — — — — — —
— — — — — — — — — — —

It was three am when I woke up. My nose became blocked from all the crying the night previous. The black bags that hung beneath my eyes were evidence of the tears that'd streamed like tiny waterfalls down my face. I wished I was a girl so I could cover it up with makeup, but unfortunately I'd been born a boy and my mother saw no point in makeup as she was "beautiful the way she was".  I didn't argue, my mother is a beautiful woman but the makeup would've helped right about now. I trudged away from the bathroom, the light from my room enabling me to see my path.

Hurt resonated through every muscle in my body as I trudged toward the bus stop later that morning. A small part of me hoped Michael was still in hospital. That small part deflated when I saw the gorgeous head of chocolaty brown hair waiting at the bus stop. My heart fluttered stubbornly and I mentally scolded it, reminding it that we'd been played. Michael didn't like me. He liked the orderly, Connor or whatever his name was. I sat as far away from Michael as possible, plugged earphones into my ears, drowning him out with music. When the bus arrived, I paid my fare and hid in one of the back seats, putting my bag beside so Michael would steer clear.

Pain strangled me and made me choke on my tears when I saw Michael sit in our old seat. I hung my head shamefully, letting a few tears drop into my lap. How would I survive the rest of the day, let alone the rest of the week? What about the months to come? Tears dropped steadily into my trembling hands and it took all of my strength not to let out the sob building in my throat. A light emanated from my pocket and I realised it was my phone. I pulled it out, more tears flooding my eyes when I saw Michael's name on the screen.

{From Michael💝: What's wrong? Why aren't you sitting with me today? Have I done something wrong?}

The questions blurred together as tears spattered across the phone, my mind in a whirl of pain and confusion. I didn't want Michael to stress, considering all he'd been through. But the pain created a monster that I couldn't control. I made eye contact with the boy in the seats below me and watched as his face fell at the sight of my message. The monster within me which thrived off my pain cackled wickedly as Michael reconnected our eyes, hurt visible in his usually twinkling irises.

{To Michael💝: What happened between you and Connor Landon?}