Justin attempted to slow his heart beat. He was fine. He liked girls. He had a super hot girlfriend. He couldn’t keep skipping basketball practice. He would be fine. He was doing this since grade school. He was totally just psyching himself out. He just had to think about girls. Girls in short skirts, girls in rap videos, whatever. Just girls.
“Justin, are you alright?” Trace asked Justin as he walked into the gymnasium.
“Oh - uh - yeah, why?” Justin replied, sounding about as jumpy and anxious as he felt.
“You were muttering things about girls,” Trace said flatly.
“Huh, was I? I didn’t,” Justin hesitated as Thomas Smith, also known as that super hot jock-type guy who sits behind you in 3rd period and totally doesn‘t know you exist, walked by. Oh yeah, he was so screwed. Come on man, conversation, remember? “Um - notice,” Justin finished, mentally smacking himself in the head. Trace burst out laughing.
“Man, did you take a shit load of Nyquil or something? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Trace exclaimed between bursts of laughter. Justin started laughing with him, and soon he felt back to normal. In the three days since the night with the cookies, Justin has been in almost a daze. Him and Josh saw each other every night, and every night Justin made sure to make some sort of food and put it near his bed. Josh always seemed to really appreciate it, and Justin was concerned about him. Josh was way too thin, and his stomach growled way too loudly. Justin couldn’t think of any plausible reason why; if Josh was anorexic, then he wouldn’t agree to eating. Even though Justin couldn’t put his finger on it, something seemed off.
Justin was pondering this when he got smacked in the face with a big orange basketball. This was just not his week, was it? After getting a verbal smack down from the coach, Justin got back in the game, and when he did he realized just how stupid avoiding basketball practise was. He felt better than he had since he started ‘meeting’ Josh, and he hadn’t thought once about guys. Then it was time for showers. Justin decided that no, he was not going to risk being in a room with a bunch of guys taking…okay, no, not going down this road again. Just stop the thinking while you can Justin. We’ve decided that you don’t like - holy hell that guy’s hot. Why’d he have to take his shirt off? Fuck. Okay, leaving now.
Justin practically ran out of the building, Trace looking puzzled behind him. Surprisingly, his mother was waiting in the car for him.
“Hi sweetie, you’re out early,” she said, giving Justin a hug as he hopped in.
“Mama, w-what would you do if - if I were gay?” Justin asked staring straight ahead of him.
“Well Justin, I would probably kick you out or send you to one of those places to get you fixed. I can’t have that kind of sin in my house, you know. But it’s not like that matters, I mean, you’re not gay,” his mother laughed.
Justin smiled as he walked down the hallway and entered the room him and Josh met in. Josh was in his usual place, head against the window, and he smiles as he noticed Justin with the plate of sandwiches. Justin frowned as he walked closer; Josh had a pinkish purple bruise on the cheekbone just under his eye.
“What happened?” Justin asked.
“I just um…bumped into a door. God I’m so clumsy sometimes,” Josh answered, he seemed on the verge of crying.
“Hey, man, it’s okay, everybody has clumsy moments,” Justin replied. He didn’t really believe Josh after seeing so many episodes of Law & Order: SVU, but he’d play along. If Josh wanted to talk about he would. It’s not like Justin could do anything about it, Josh was in Russia. Josh sighed, smiled, and took one of the sandwiched Justin had made. Their night went just like any other night. They talked about small, stupid things, laughed, watched the sunrise, and let the wave of exhaustion go over them until they woke up in their own beds.
Josh was scared. More so than he’d ever been before. Jake was angry, more so than he’d ever been before. He was also drunk. Josh didn’t know what had happened, but somehow Jake had gotten punched in the face at the party he was at and decided it was Josh’s fault. Currently, Josh was getting kicked repeatedly in the stomach. This was actually the first time Jake made Josh cry while beating him up. And oh, was Josh ever crying. Screaming would probably be more accurate, actually. Josh’s body felt like it was on fire, and endless stream of pain being delivered in the form of kicks and punches. Josh swore he was going to die, how could anyone live through this? There it was, that sweet, familiar blackness.
Josh cried out as he opened his eyes. He hurt all over, and, sitting up, he saw that Jake was passed out on the couch. Josh tiptoed over to Jake, opened his jacket slowly as to not wake him up, and took his credit card and car keys. Josh quietly inched to the door, silent tears streaming down his face at the pain, he opened the door and stepped out of the apartment. Not wasting any time, Josh ran down the hallway all the way to the underground parking lot and got into Jake’s car. Well, it was really Josh’s car, but Jake didn’t think Josh deserved it. Josh turning it on and headed out.
Josh was still scared as he drove. If he didn’t get out of here now, Jake would find him. Josh knew - it had happened before. And if Jake found him, Josh would actually be dead. As in no more living, as in very, very painful death. As in never seeing his mother or father again. Josh parked on the side of the road, not having time for finding a spot in a very busy airport parking lot. People gave him strange looks as he made his way across the airport. Josh could imagine how he looked, bruises and cuts everywhere, clothes ripped in places.
“When’s the next flight for Maryland leaving?” Josh asked the receptionist.
“Next flight to Maryland leaves in one hour,” she answered after typing some things into the keyboard.
“Would it be possible to get a ticket?” Josh asked. His whole body was shaking.
“Well, the plane was full, but I can check to see if somebody cancelled,” the lady replied, turning back to her computer. God, God, please, if you get me a spot on that plane, I will never even look at another man again.
