BROTHERS, THAT'S WHO WE ARE

Chapter Eleven: Wade

I WALK DOWN the school's halls to my second class, which is biology. Chris, my best friend, walks beside me and we talk and laugh and talk once more. We round a corner when I bumped into the school's bully, Jake Nickerson.
"Hey! Watch it, freak!" Jake, who has red-orangeish hair, green emerald eyes, and freckles all over his face, says to me.
He calls me a freak for many reasons. One being my parents both male, two because of my mother. He does anything he can to get me angry. He apparently likes it when I do get angry.
Thankfully, Chris is with me this time. Chris is super protective of me and he looks after me. He's like another older brother.
"He's not a freak!" Chris defends.
Jake rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest and scoffs. "Yeah right. He is!"
"Then I guess that makes you a freak, too!" Chris counters.
Jake growls. "His parents are males! Both of them!"
"So? What difference does that make?!"
"It makes him a freak! That's what!" Jake says.
I don't watch. I keep my head low, trying to control my emotions. Keep your cool, Wade, I think. Keep your cool.
"That doesn't matter! What characteristics in him makes him qualify as a freak?!" Chris asks.
Jake has no answer and for once, I'm surprised. It's then do I look up. Jake's eyes are narrowed and his fists are clenched right, so tight, that his knuckles are white. Chris has the same expression.
"This isn't over!" Jake says, his eyes moving to me.
He walks off with his buddies after a moment of silence. I watch them round the corner and down the hall, then turn my attention back to Chris.
"You alright?" Chris asks me, a hand on my shoulder.
I blush deeply and look down, nodding. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine...thank you..."
He smiles and says, "Of course! That's what friends are for right?"
I look up and beam at him. "Excatly!"
We turn and head down to biology.

+ + +

After biology, it was time for lunch. Chris and I scoots our chairs back from our desks. We both grab our book bags and text books and push the chairs back in. I jog to my locker, which has my lunch box in it, and grab it. I place my text books and bag in the locker before shutting it.
"You ready?" Chris asks me, once I grab my lunch and lock the locker.
I smile and nod. "Mhm!"
We turn and head down to the cafeteria. When we reach the cafeteria, I pick a spot for Chris and I. I sit while he goes paying for his lunch. He doesn't usually pack lunches like I do. While he's out getting his lunch, I take this opportunity to think about my family. My brother, who's getting married soon. My mother, who's beautiful and happy. Why do I have to make everything so difficult? Why do I have to be so stubborn?! Why?! Just why?!
"Because that's who you are, Wade," a male voice says.
My head perks up and I gasp.
No...no it can't be!
"It certainly can be, son."
My eyes widen as I turn to see where the voice is coming from. My breathing quickens. He's standing before me.
I gulp.
No.
No, please.
No.
No!
(Is this real?! Is this real?!)
"Dad?!" I shriek.
My father, my dead father, chuckles and says, "Yes, my son. It's me."
"A-Are y-you..." I stutter. I begin to feel light headed. "A-Am I dreaming...?!"
"No, Wade. You're not. I'm a ghost. I came to check on you," Dad says.
I'm to shocked. Too spooked. I wonder if anyone else sees my father..or is it just me?
"It's just you," Dad answers, as if reading my thoughts. "Only you and Peter. Speaking of Peter, how is he?"
I wince when Dad mentions his name and look down. At the corner of my eye, I see Dad with a worried look and says, "Wade? How's your brother...?"
I gulp, trying to hold back my tears, and look back up at him. "He's....he's e-engaged, Dad..."
Dad stares hard at me with his eyes wide. His mouth agape. He's in shock. Just like I was when I watched Matt get down on one knee in front of my shocked big brother, holding the ring in his hand, and asking him to marry him and become his wife.
"Dad?" I ask, concerned. "Dad? You okay...?"
Dad clenches his fists tightly and grits his teeth. I swear, steam was coming from his nose like an angry oxen.
"Say what?!" Dad says through gritted teeth.
"Peter's engaged..." I mumble, looking down.
"To who? Who proposed to my son?" Dad demands.
I gulp. "M-Matt...M-Matt Murdock..."
"And your mother's okay with all this?!"
I nod, not saying a word.
"What about Harrison? He okay with this?!"
I nod again. "Matt asked Mom and Uncle Harrison if he can marry Peter last night. At dinner."
It's silent for a moment. A dead, scary silence.
Dad gulps and disappears. That's it. He don't say nothing more. Just up and left. I stare at the spot where he was. I wonder if he's going to see Matt and give him a lesson...but only Peter and I can see Dad physically.
"Wade?" a voice asks. It's Chris. I can feel his presence next to me. "Wade? You okay?"
I turn around and give him an reassuring smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"You were talking to 'Dad'?" Chris says, arching an eyebrow. "By Dad...you mean...?"
"Yes," I say, sighing heavily and picking at my food my mother packed for me. "My father. My dead father."
Chris stares at me, wide eyed. "No way! Really? As in Ryan Reynolds?! Your father?! The husband of Tom Holland, who's your mother?!"
"Yes! What point of that do you not understand?!" I say, annoyed.
"But how?!"
"As a ghost. But you can't tell anyone about this! Not even my Mom! Or your friends! I don't need Jake calling me a freak even more!" I snap.
"Why can't I see him?" Chris asks.
"That I don't know. But Dad did say that only Peter and I can see him physically," I reply, biting into my ham sandwich.
"Oh," was all Chris could manage.
We didn't talk after that. We just ate in silence until we were fully done with our lunch. I stand up and crumple the brown paper bag, that once had my lunch in it, and throw it away in a near by trash can.
Since Chris didn't have the same class I did this time, we went our separate ways. The hallway I took to my math class was deserted. I clutch my text books tightly to my chest and kept my head low.
I begin to feel this weird feeling in me. Like I'm being watched. I gulp and continue walking, trying to push the thought away. Suddenly, as I round a corner, I trip over my apparently untied shoe lace. Thankfully, no one was there to laugh at me.
"Great," I growl.
I knelt on one knee as I tied the shoe lace that was untied. But at the corner of my eye, I see a black figure standing in the corner.
I finish tying my shoe lace and grab my books, clutching them tight. I grunt as I push myself up and I, curiously, walk toward the figure.
A hand grabs my elbow so suddenly I scream. I drop my books and the thing that has my elbow, held me close to its body. It's cold, shivering body. Before I can scream any more, a cold hand flies up to my mouth, muffling my screams. I struggle to break free, thrashing my legs, calling for Chris for help. I scream into his hand, I scream and scream until I begin to feel sleepy and I can't scream anymore.
"Hush, my child!" the voice says. It's male and it's deep. But it doesn't have a British accent.
It's American.