Black Star Cross - 6. Thinking About You

Black Star Cross

Chapter 6: Thinking About You

“What’s the matter, honey? You looked surprised. Don’t tell me that I look THAT old,” she chuckled to her implications.

I was in Anthony’s house. I was in Anthony’s house! Oh my God! Why am I in Anthony’s house?! Did he find me on the road? Was it his mom? Was it someone else whom I haven’t met yet? His father? Sibling? WHY AM I IN ANTHONY’S HOUSE?!

“Are you okay? You’re awfully quiet. Do you need some more rest? You were in pretty bad condition when Anthony brought you home last night.”

Wait! So Anthony was the person who found me by the road last night. But why did he pick me up? He’s never shown any concern for me whatsoever since I’ve known him. No, wait, that’s not true. That one night, that stormy and dark night, he did let a little bit of humanity show through. But that flicker of morality blinked off as quick as it had appeared. He became the Anthony that we all know and love once again. His mom keeps staring at me though. Oh! I never gave an answer to her.

“I’m just tired. That’s all. I think I’ll go lie down again.”

“Okay, dear. You can talk to Anthony when he gets home later.”

Oh joy. I can’t wait for that.

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

I went back up into the spare bedroom and lied down onto the bed, face down. Okay, let’s think this over a bit. Let’s start from the beginning. A). I was walking along the street and fell asleep. B). I’m being carried by someone, who I now know was Anthony. C). I remember being in a car, so that must’ve been Anthony driving. Hey! Then it must’ve been Anthony telling me to ‘conserve my energy’! Why’d he tell me to do that? And again, why did he pull over and resc-, I mean, pick me up, in the first place? Okay, D). I’m in this bed, and Anthony’s mom comes in with the soup. I guess Anthony told her my name, instead of referring to me as fag, and that’s how she knew my name so quickly. Then again, I wouldn’t put it pass that bastard to still be referring to me as a fag, even in front of his mother.

What’s next? Oh yeah. E). I fell back asleep, had that weird dream, and woke up to find someone ready to kiss me. I don’t think they even knew that I was awake. But, man, was that kiss incredible. I haven’t felt like that in years. But who was it? I’m pretty sure that it wasn’t his mom. Was it...? No, don’t start thinking like that again. You know where that led to last time. Face reality, loser. He’s not into you. Never has been. Never will be. Let it go. It’s what’s best for you. So, it was probably Anthony’s sister then. Does he even have a sister? He has to. And she’s just as awful of a person as he is. I mean, to kiss a guy you don’t even know, who’s in your house, and you don’t know how he got in there, and he’s unconscious for Pete’s sake! I have to talk to their parents about their parenting habits. They obviously suck at raising children.

I sat in bed, passing the time away, thinking more about my current situation. Was my mom worried? What did the school do today when they figured out that I wasn’t there? Did they call home? What did my mom say? What is Anthony saying in school today about me? When is this family going to get suspicious?

It wasn’t till around 3:30 that I heard the door open, then slam close with a bang. I heard voices coming from downstairs, assuming that it was Anthony and his mom talking. I heard my name come up, so I know that they were talking about me. I heard footsteps coming from the stairs. Most likely it was Anthony’s. I quickly got under the covers and pretended to be asleep. No way did I want to talk to that toxic entity. I didn’t need to hear his explanation of what happened. Chances are he’ll expect some sort of apology or favor to be done for him. As if, you heartless sack of crap!

The door opened and out of the slits of my eyes, I could see that it was indeed Anthony. He saw me lying there on the bed and came over to me. I did the best sleeping impression I could muster.

“Dude, don’t even try to do that fake-sleeping trick on me. I practically invented that.”

How did he see through me? I continued to pretend sleeping just in case he was trying to bluff me out of my trick.

“Dude. That is so cold, like, trying to ignore me like that and stuff. Just stop it already. It’s really annoying.”

I still pretended to be sleeping.

“Alright. I guess I’ll just call your mom and tell her that you’re over here and...”

“What!? No! Stop! Don’t do that!” I said instinctively. Damn, he’s good.

“Glad to see that you’re finally up, dude. Mom said that she thought you’d slip into a coma or something.”

“Yeah. At least she worried enough about me to believe that and be concerned with it,” I said snarkily, making sure that he caught my insinuation.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think it means?! It’s obvious that she shows more concern for me than you did for the past four years! At least she was concerned whether or not I was going to live through the night!”

“That’s not true! Didn’t she tell you that I was the one who found you unconscious on the side of the road? I didn’t know who it was at first, but as soon as I saw you, I freaked! I mean, here is the boy who told me that he got kicked out of his house-”

“I never said anything like that to you!”

“-who got kicked out of his HOUSE, and now he’s lying on the road, not moving. I seriously thought that you were dead! Do you know how terrified I was?!”

“Oh! So now that I was close to dying, THEN you show concern. What about all the other times that you made me miserable in school? What happened to your fucking concern then?”

“I told you that I was just following my-”

“Oh fuck that shit! Your ‘role’!? I still don’t buy that shit for even a minute. There’s no ‘role’ that you follow. You just generally were, and still are, out to get me; to make my life as miserable as possible until I put a bullet through my head!”

“I never-”

“Shut it! Yes you did. Do you know how many times I thought about doing it?! Huh?! It got so bad that I wanted to fucking die! Just to not feel so...so...useless and unworthy! Unworthy of feeling happy or just a general feeling of calmness. No, you had to take that all away from me! Are you understanding me? You took away any positive feelings I had and threw them into the shredder! You took away my will to live!”

Quietness. The whole house seemed empty, but I knew that I was still in there, along with Anthony and his mom, who I knew heard all that. I wonder if she knew what a terrible son she had.

“I...I...I never wanted...that...to happen. I...I just...I...”

“Save it. It’s just going to be another lie coming out of your damn mouth anyways. So why waste the air?”

I guess that ended whatever conversation that we had, because Anthony just stood up and started walking towards the door. I knew that I had to hit him one last time before he left though, just to put salt on whatever wounds I inflicted in my rage.

“And you know what? Even though you may hate me, your sister sure doesn’t. Not from that incredibly hot kiss she gave me last night.”

Anthony turned around, but I didn’t see a surprised or hurt look on his face like I was expecting. Instead, he had a look of confusion.

“Sister? What sister? I don’t have a...”

He stopped mid-sentence. A surprised look washed over his face, sorta like that deer-caught-in-the-headlights kinda look. He just sorta froze there for a second, then suddenly he came through again, and dashed out the door. What just happened? He said that he didn’t have a sister. The look on his face told me that he wasn’t lying. So it wasn’t his sister; she didn’t exist. It wasn’t his mom (God I hope not). But...that would eliminate all possible females from the typical family. That means that...

My eyes shot up and I bolted up from the bed. No! It couldn’t be! Was Anthony the one who kissed me last night?!

I stayed in bed for about another hour, toiling around with my thoughts. Was it Anthony? It had to be Anthony. But Anthony’s straight. Isn’t he? Is he bi? Is he...like me? Does that mean...that he actually likes me? Like, likes me likes me? Or is it just lust? The more I tried to answer these questions, the more questions came to mind. And I couldn’t solve any of them, not one. I figured that the only way to obtain some of these answers was to go straight to the source. Anthony.

I left my room and started venturing down the hallway. I realized that I didn’t know which room was Anthony’s bedroom. I figured that that would be the one that was most likely locked.

As I opened one, I saw that it was empty. But it seemed like somebody actually used this bedroom. It had an air of power to it, very masculine-like. I figured that it wasn’t Anthony’s mom’s room. It appeared to be his dad’s. But now that I think about it, I never saw his dad before. The bed was made, I saw the back of a picture frame on the desk by the bed, the closet was closed, curtains were covering the window, the dresser had various pictures on it, but was otherwise cleared of everything. It looked like the room hadn’t been used in years. Was Anthony’s dad like my own? Was he...

I slammed the door shut, tears filling my eyes. I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about that. I can’t start crying every time I think about him. But how could I help it? He was my freaking dad for crying out loud!

“Hon? Are you okay, dear?”

I turned around to see Anthony’s mom coming up the stairs, looking at me with a worried expression on her face. Luckily, I hadn’t cried too hard or too much, so my face was easily concealed with a fake smile.

“Yeah, I’m good. I was just trying to find Anthony’s room. I need to talk to him.”

“Well, hopefully it’s to end that nasty argument that I couldn’t escape overhearing.”

My smile dropped and I looked at her with fear.

“How much did you hear?”

“I just heard a bunch of shouting coming from the both of you. You know, it’s very unlike Anthony to be yelling at all. It really surprised me.”

If only you knew how much he yells at school.

“Well, his room is the next one on the right. I really hope that you two can work things out.”

“Thank you. I hope so, too.”

She smiled at me and walked off to her own room. I approached Anthony’s room and knocked on the door. When I got no answer, I tried the doorknob. As I suspected, it didn’t budge. The door was locked. Oh well, here goes nothing.

“Anthony, open up. It’s me, Shawn.”