Catch Me (Synacky)

Chapter Thirteen: Brian

I was still high on Zacky as I forced myself awake the next morning, earlier than the aids. He was still asleep, hair mussed and crazy, mouth parted slightly, our legs tangled together. As gently as I could, I slipped out of bed, scooping him up into my arms, doing my best to go slow and be careful. I laid him in his bed, covering him up with the sheet.

Had that kiss been real?

I brushed my lips with my fingers, remembering his lips, cool and sweet on my own.

I pressed my lips to the top of Zacky’s head, heart racing inside my chest. I couldn’t believe this.

‘This blows, man, now he's gonna come onto me.’ Jimmy hissed, and I mentally swatted him away. ‘What if he tries to fuck Johnny, huh? How will he handle that?’

‘He won’t, he won’t come onto either of you, he’ll notice the wristband.’ I replied, then telling him to shut up. I was reveling in the beautiful boy in front of me, and I didn’t want Jimmy ruining it.

I made myself slide into bed, pretending to be asleep when the aid came to check on us, flipping on the light.

Zacky yawned, stretching and sitting up, rubbing his eyes sleepily. I smiled at him, and he smiled back. He brought his fingertips up to his lips, eyes focusing on some point behind me, and my grin widened. He was reliving the kiss.

“I had a wonderful dream last night.” He whispered, more to himself than to me, and I chuckled as he grabbed his toothbrush, spread his arms out, and began to spin, right out into the hallway.

I had yet to find one fault with that boy…

We were on our way to breakfast when I blacked out.

~Jimmy~

I begrudgingly slid the bracelet in my back pocket onto my wrist. At first I had all but refused to wear it, but now that Brian and Zacky were on the verge of sucking each other off, I had to wear it. I’d rather get caught up in hell than get caught up in that mess.

We ate in silence for the most part, until I brought up something about the book Zacky was letting me read. I knew more about extraterrestrial stuff than Zacky did, and when I talked about it, he soaked it up, eyes wide and jaw agape. He was into this stuff. I asked him if there was anything he wasn’t good at, and he shrugged.

“History.” He answered. “Language arts. Biology and chemistry.”

“But you yak about science stuff all the time.” I said, “And you love math. How can you hate biology and chemistry?”

Zacky’s brows furrowed as he glared down at his cereal. “I don’t like chemicals.” He said, “I don’t like the periodic table or phospholipids. With math, there’s only one answer. With chemistry and biology, the answers are infinite.”

“But you like talking about space. That’s science.” I folded my arms, feeling pleased with myself. “Face it, you’re just good at everything.”

“I like astronomy.” Zacky replied. “But it’s not something I want to pursue, because of my hate for chemistry.”

I rolled my eyes. “I bet my soul you’ve memorized the periodic table.”

He nodded.

“Then you’re into chemistry, admit it!”

“Why does this matter so much to you?” he asked, knuckles turning white from the grip he had on his spoon. While I scrabbled for a response, he got up and took his tray to the cart.

We got to look at our three week grades in class. A copy would be sent to our parents. Unless we didn’t have parents.

Brian was doing alright. B’s and C’s down the line, with a D in math. That was something I was fairly good at, but I just refused to participate. He was in remedial! The kids in that class were struggling with fractions, while the other juniors were learning about the Pythagorean Theorem! I didn’t waste my time in there. I read Zacky’s book, and drew pictures of little galaxies in the margins of my worksheets.