Verse - 6. Chapter 6

I don’t know… I feel as if he just doesn’t pay as much attention to me as he should. I mean, for the last couple weeks, whenever this kid—let’s call him Steve—shows up, my boyfriend just, like, goes blank. Pretty much no matter what’s he’s doing, when Steve shows up, he just drops everything and gives him (Steve!) his undivided attention. It hurts, you know, to have your boyfriend—the guy who tells you he loves you ever single goddamn day—pay so much attention to someone who isn’t you.

I don’t really think I’m being selfish or anything. It’s not wrong to want him to pay attention to me, is it? I don’t think so. I never ignore him… except, maybe, when I’m pissed at him. But, he deserves it then, aha.

What about his side of thing you might ask? Well, he was saying something about Steve being, like, sad and depressed or something. Sure, that’s pretty sad, but it shouldn’t mean he should drop everything and run to him. Steve really isn’t anything to either of us. He’s just some kid…

…Fuck, reading this shite back to myself really makes me feel like an inconsiderate asshole. Maybe I did overreact?

Cody stared at his screen, watching the cursor blink steadily after the question mark. What had Soren said? That Luka had the same look he had?

He leaned back in his seat, setting a foot onto his desk as his knuckles pressed against his lips. His eyes fixed on his leg, where his light field of hairs gleamed with the setting sun’s orange glow.

The same look.

Cody closed his eyes, his memories fading back four years to a little after George’s second birthday. Cody had been thirteen then, and proudly stood with his superhero-of-a-father through thick and thin—even when his mother had decided to leave. He hadn’t known back then, but now he was confident it was because his father was—to quote Soren—“an ass.” And a selfish one at that. Unfortunately, Cody’s eagerness to please Father had him testifying against his mother, in a legal battle over custody of the Lund kids.

He regretted it now; his father was still aloof and ungrateful and selfish and arrogant and—and—and—Cody growled lightly, kicking away from the desk and rolling across the room as a result. He lay back against his bed, his eyes watching blankly as a jumbo jet flew over his skylight; hard to believe that little speck was really the size of a football field.

George and Mary’s excited screeches reached his ears, marking their return. They spent every Sunday with their mother—another hard fought legal battle—and it sounded like they amply enjoyed themselves. Cody never went, being unable to face his mother—especially after the first fiasco.

He’d tried to talk to her the second time she’d arrived to pick up his siblings. She’d ignored him outright, choosing instead to scold George for hitting Mary as they got into the backseat before speeding out of the driveway; Cody had barely opened his mouth.

It had really stung, being ignored by his own mother.

Luckily, he’d met Soren shortly after that, and that boy…

Cody smiled, remembering that day.

“Sup,” Soren said excitedly, his lips split in a smirk as he took Cody’s hand and shook it. “Soren, Soren Lager. What’s your name?”

Cody raised an eyebrow, wondering what exactly was up with this kid. He’d seem him often around the middle-school playgrounds, usually with a pair of girls. Even now, they were a few feet away from them, giggling lightly. Their giggles brought his attention back to Soren; though half a head shorter than him, the boy secreted confidence and spunk by the bucket-load—he had to, really. No normal person would wear such an array of thick colors—a bright pink shirt, jet black jeans, and neon-colored bands running up his lower arm.

“Um, hey,” Cody replied awkwardly, breaking the boy’s spell over him. “Cody Lund,” he added, taking his hand back.

“Pleased to meet you, Cody,” Soren returned, smiling coyly as he took a tentative step forward.

It wasn’t long afterwards that Soren dragged Cody to the theater. The two spent most of the movie staring at one another—their arms and legs constantly brushing on one another as their cheeks glowed red. They’d shared their first kiss that day, kick-starting a relationship that would last nearly three years.

Three years…

Their anniversary was soon.

Cody rushed to his feet, his eyes immediately adjusting to the darkness around him. He’d passed out, it seemed; and for quite a while too, as only moonlight entered his room. On his desk, his phone vibrated—as it had been doing so for the previous hour.

His eyes groggy, Cody grabbed it, unlocked it, and stared:

I’m sorry.

Me too, he typed back, not hesitating for a moment before sending it off to his boyfriend.

As he waited for a reply, he stared at his screen. His earlier rant was still present, sitting lifelessly in the posting text box of his blog. It was normally about baseball—he loved baseball—but, sometimes, he hijacked it for silly things. Simply writing his thoughts down helped, more often than not. But, like always, he flustered considerably, feeling foolish he’d even wrote it in the first place.

He closed the window, ignoring the pop-up that surfaced, as his phone erupted into a whine in his pocket.

~.~.~.~

“Hi,” Noel whispered.

“Hey,” Luka returned, just as softly.

“How was your day?”

Luka snickered onscreen, his body reeling slightly in the giggle that followed. Noel watched, smiling at his friend’s impish movements.

“It was,” Luka began, looking thoughtful, “okay, really. Yours?” Mark didn’t come Sundays, and his mother spent the morning attending church, usually bringing back takeout for lunch. Considering his father disappeared during the day on the weekends, it’d been safe for Luka to join her for it. It’d been as awkward as he’d expected it to, though was luckily cut short by a phone call. After that, he’d finally addressed his room’s mess, and tackled Mark’s assignments.

“Same,” Noel replied, sighing heavily. Luka blinked, leaning his head onto his arm, giving Noel a better view of his bare chest. “Don’t you ever get cold?” he asked. “You’re always nude.”

Luka grinned, answering, “Heater’s on full… Just be glad I bother to put clothes on when I walk out the door.”

“Yeah,” Noel replied, “else I might lose you to someone else, huh?”

Again, Luka blinked steadily, staring at the camera, pretending to meet his friend’s eyes. He’d only seen them once, in an image that Noel had forced him to delete immediately afterwards. It’d been a cute one too, Noel blushing heavily as he took a full-body photo of himself in his birthday suit. Luka still couldn’t believe Noel went through with it.

“Yeah,” Luka said at last, beaming at the memory, winking at his teasing, “you’ve no idea how many guys I refuse, just for you.”

Though, Noel was aware of Luka’s more intimate activities. He pressed Luka endlessly, on the fact that the boy was so personally well-off, despite his father’s neglect. Luka had, therefore, admitted his activities.

How he sold himself to older men.

It had been an awkward conversation, to say the least. It pained him to admit his activities aloud—highs didn’t last forever, and when the last one left his system, he always felt dirty. Used. Worthless. Yet, Noel….

“I love you,” Noel whispered, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.

Luka smiled, unsure of just what to say.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to. His father’s banging was thunder in even Noel’s ears, causing both of them to immediately glance to the door, as if expecting it to finally break under the constant stress.

It didn’t. Luka looked back to Noel, both their faces broken in awkward scowls. “I should go,” he whispered, brushing the back of his neck; “can’t really talk with him raping my door behind me.”

Noel snickered, giggling through the headpiece. “Alright,” he replied slowly. “But, I mean it Luka, I love you.”

This time, the boy blushed, despite the slight smile that worked onto his lips. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “I, love you too…. You know, you still haven’t told me your name.”

“And I won’t,” Noel replied with a smirk. “Not until the day I’ve you tightly in my arms.”

“I’ll be waiting then.”

Luka shutdown the program, taking off his headset and setting it down beside the machine. Behind him, his mother had dragged his father from the door, and the two were now locked in an argument; it was only a matter of time before the words turned to blows, and the whole thing became one-sided.

He didn’t intend to be awake for that. Nor sober, really.