This Winter

Chapter 12

Junior Year (continued)

I'm curled against the cold blacktop with my arms wrapped around my knees. The engine of the car still hums faintly and the lights reflecting on the brick building as my only source of light.

My cotton shirt is damp from the nighttime dew and I shiver slightly. My arms seeking both warmth and comfort as I hold myself. He knows.

The words lay heavy in my chest. I let the weight of them pin me to the concrete and drown my thoughts with worry.  Because if Kurtis knows, will he tell Noah?

Will he tell his blue-eyed, innocent son that his best friend, his fucking friend that he trust is utterly infatuated with his beautiful soul and body. That his fucking friend wishes to pin the smaller boy to his grey sheets and fill his ever desires. Fuck.

And then my self-pity turns to worry as my thoughts come crashing down. Noah. I'm sitting upright immediately as my thoughts are filled with the worry of Noah's safety. By association, one could draw conclusions, the type of conclusions I don't want Kurtis to connect. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I finally decide to pull myself from the ground and venture back to my apartment. When I enter, I'm flooded with yellow light emitting from the apartment. Fuck, again.

I can hear her footsteps frantically run to the door. My attention turns to the wooden door, shutting it slowly and too afraid to look her in the eyes.

"Ethan Jones Calaway," she seethes. I breath out slowly, my shoulders shaking with the large exhale. "Do you know how I felt? How I felt to awake to the sound of the door clicking and finding your son nowhere to be found!" I can feel the harsh glare of her eyes burning my back. I can hear the sound of her foot tapping as she waits for my answer.

"I waited here all night! I tried to call the fucking police, but they told me I had to wait 48 hours! I was worried out of my damn mind!" Her voice is harsh and scattered with cuss words. My mom almost never cusses, and she never yells like this.

"I'm sorry," I answer. My voice strained from the weight of the world.

She sighs, "I just want to know where you go, Ethan. I just want to know."

I still don't turn around, my eyes staring at the dark wooden door. Breathing softly as I rest my head against the wood and let my eyes shut.

"I want to know why I hear remarks about my son being- doing things from other parents. I want to know why you were hung-over in the woods  your freshman year. I just- want you to tell me things," her voice is raw and I know her eyes are welling with tears. My eyes do as well.

It's silent. I still don't dare to face her brown-eyes, filled with tears. It hurts to know my actions, my problems, affect her. I've been so caught up in my own world that I haven't taken a step back to realize.

"I just want to know my son. Really know him." My eyes shut and I breath deeply.

My voice is barely a whisper as I say her name, "Mom."

"What- what Ethan?" A hopefulness undertones her words. A gentle hush to her voice whenever she speaks.

"Mom..." With a heavy chest I tell her, I tell her the truth, "I'm gay."

I try to hold back the flood that's begging to escape. I shut my eyes tightly, but it's a lost cause when I hear her voice, breaking as she comforts me. "Oh, Ethan."

"I'm sorry Mom, I'm so sorry." I don't apologize because I'm gay and I think she understands that. I'm sorry because I never told her. I'm sorry because I've lied and gone behind her back to create this image that isn't me. A facade to hide my blossoming feelings.

I feel her standing behind me, so without looking to her face I turn and let her hug me.

I'm bigger than her, I've been taller and stronger than her since I turned fifteen. I may be stronger physically, but she will always be more emotionally, so I let her hold me in her arms. My body hunched as I rest my head onto her shoulder and cry softly.

"I love him, Mom. I love him and it hurts." She hushes my worries. Even though I don't say his name, I know she understands.

I let her hand rub my back, the other running through my hair. The wedding ring she still wears on her hand, even though my father was an alcoholic who died when I was four, catching on my loose strands of dark.

Besides Noah, my mom is my everything.

A woman who raised her boy even after the heartbreak of loosing her husband so early in life. Working double shifts at the hospital to pay for his future education, football, and growing body. Arranging shifts in order to watch every single one of my stupid, high school  football games.

Despite the stress of everything, she still has the energy to comfort me late in the night.

"Does he know?" I shake my head 'no', not trusting my voice. "Ethan, I think you should tell him. At least that your gay."

"I don't want to lose him, Mom."

I tell her everything after my confession. Not even straying from potentially 'grounding' actions of mine. She doesn't comment on them, letting me speak into her arms.

I've let it all build up. Never telling anyone, so when I finally get to tell her... I feel relieved.

My chest feels less heavy and my mind is at peace.

When I'm finished she finally speaks. Head pulling back to look into my eyes. "The truth doesn't cause pain, Ethan. It's the lies that do."

Though her words are vague, I understand. She wants me to tell him.

HAPPY VETERANS DAY!

Sorry this chapter is short! I tried to write more scenes, but they just don't compliment well. Word count was at 900 but I added some stuff to at least get to 1,000.

Also I hope the flashbacks aren't too much. I'm probably going to have at least 1 or 2 more flashback chapters coming back. I can't figure out another way to go about the plot. I need to paint a picture of the past before I dive deep into present shit that Ethan has to deal with.

I can't have present scenes, spoiling past ones. Lol.