Jump to content
  • Join Gay Authors

    Join us for free and follow your favorite authors and stories.

    Krista
  • Author
  • 4,751 Words
  • 4,629 Views
  • 2 Comments
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Are You Christian - 17. Chapter 17

 
The next morning my alarm clock didn’t wake me up. It was because someone had turned it off, I started scrambling to my feet but realized there was no use. It was already past the time for the bus to run. No one had bothered to wake me up or check on me, so I started to worry that Mom and Dad really had meant to take me to the doctor and get my injuries documented.
 
I breathed a sigh of relief when I looked out my window and saw the driveway was empty. They had both left for work, so I fed the gold fish and left the room just wearing my shorts. It was then I heard the upstairs bathroom flush, I jumped back into my room as Stacey stepped out and saw me staring at her through the crack in my door.
 
“Good morning,” she said grumpily. “Morning sickness really sucks, I don’t know how long I’ll have it either.”
 
“You need get better at hiding it, Mom will know for sure,” I stammered, she just rolled her eyes and walked down the hall to her room. She closed the door behind her and I heard her dialing her cell phone as I walked into the bathroom myself. I noted the smell of vomit and wondered just how badly sick she was every morning. I felt sorry for her, the secret she kept would devastate Mom and cause Dad to hit the roof. They wanted us to finish college before we even thought about children and Stacey would be heavily pregnant before her graduation.
 
I looked at my eye in the mirror, I opened it and blinked it a few times, the swelling had gone down, but the bruises were still a deep purple and covered the top of my eye. I could see the three knuckle marks Matt’s fist left on my forehead as well. It made the whole conversation come back to me and I sighed. I still didn’t know what I was going to do about him.
 
After using the bathroom, I walked downstairs and saw the note from Mom. She decided to give me today and tomorrow off from school so my eye and lip had time to recover before I had to answer all the questions I would get asked by my friends. I smiled thinking she wasn’t completely out to get me. It was probably Stacey’s idea, Mom wouldn’t really want me hiding away from inevitable things. She always said facing stressful situations were better than running from them. That the situations would never go away, but eat at you until you didn’t have any of the bravery left to face it.
 
“There’s cold French toast in the fridge,” Stacey said from the top of the stairs before she disappeared into the bathroom again. I heard her gagging and grimaced, bypassing the kitchen completely. We never skipped school as children, because we didn’t have anything at home to really pass the time of day. Mom hadn’t allowed cable television at all, shielding us away from all the bad news and unhealthy lifestyles. We didn’t have video games for the same reason. Dad needed the Internet though, but he took his laptop with him to and from work. Not leaving it at home so we could use it when he didn’t need it.
 
The ringing phone caused me to jump though, I expected the call to be for Stacey, but she wasn’t able to answer it so I walked to the counter and answered it. Jonathon’s voice surprised me as well, I didn’t even know if he knew the home phone number. He was breathing hard, like he had been running, after saying Hi, in a strained voice all I could hear was his ragged breathing.
 
“What’s wrong?” I asked gripping the phone tighter against my ear, trying not to miss anything he had to say. “Calm down a little all I hear is you breathing.”
 
“That’s because I just got done running,” he responded, “just wanted to make sure you were awake.” Then I heard the dial tone on the phone. As I hung up I heard knocking on the front door. I cussed under my breath, not knowing what was going on I rushed to the front door and saw Jonathon standing there holding his right hand close to his stomach. He also had a cut on his cheek and his shirt was wrinkled.
 
“What in hell did you do?” I asked as he stepped into the room.
 
“I think I broke my middle finger, that’s what,” he said and when I reached for his hand he backed away and placed his left hand over it protectively.
 
“Let me see it,” I said as calmly as I could. He studied me with his dark blue eyes before he held his right hand, supported by his left out for me to see. His middle knuckled was swollen and purple, it was obvious that he had broken something in his hand and I winced seeing it. “What in the world did you do?”
 
“I punched the shit out of Matt,” he hissed and I blinked hearing him cuss. “Then Gavin punched me, before I could punch Matt again.”
 
“You idiot,” I groaned. “Why in the hell did you punch your cousin?”
 
“Because he was the one that punched you, stupid,” Jonathon retorted still holding his right hand with his left.
 
“You need to go see a doctor,” I said, still angry that he had punched Matt. It wasn’t something I expected at all.
 
“When I saw his hand wrapped up, I knew it was him,” he hissed, “why didn’t you tell me it was him?”
 
“Because I was going to talk to him about it,” I offered averting my eyes from his glare.
 
“But it surprised me, I didn’t know Matt had it in him,” he stammered letting out a sigh. “I’m in big trouble, I ran out the door after I did it.”
 
“Jonathon!” I whispered, “you’ll be expelled for something like that.”
 
“Nah, just five days instead of three,” he explained rolling his eyes. “Going home to see Dad would be the real problem.”
 
“What about your hand?” I asked, “is there someone that will take you to the hospital to get it looked at?”
 
“Mom,” he said grimacing, “explaining it to her will suck.”
 
“You better head on home,” I stated and he looked at me.
 
“Don’t be angry,” he said and I rolled my eyes.
 
“Why the hell am I not allowed to be angry with you?” I asked crossing my arms. He looked like I had slapped him, but I didn’t care. “Why didn’t you stop and think?”
 
“Because I’m not a stop and think kind of person,” he grumbled, “and you know that by now, I hope.”
 
“You know you’ve just made this a lot bigger of a mess,” I snapped and he opened his mouth to protest, but closed it back. He instead started to turn and walk back out the front door and I could see his eyes welling up with tears.
 
“I’m sorry we’ve created a mess, but I thought it was something you wanted,” he whispered and I put my hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off and walked through the screen door, it closed with a slam behind him. “I’m dumping you, so you don’t have to deal with my mess anymore.”
 
“That’s not what I meant,” I stammered fighting with the door, trying to get it open. He had placed his foot in front of it though.
 
“I’ll see you at school next Tuesday,” he said and turned an jogged down the stairs and driveway to the highway.
 
“Go after him,” Stacey said from the bottom stair. She was frowning; her eyes squinted like she was concentrating on something. “Or I’ll kick your ass.”
 
“You can’t kick my ass in your condition, my deodorant is a repellant,” I countered still looking out the screen door. She let a weak gag escape her mouth, but she held strong on the bottom step.
 
“Why did you call it a mess, Chris?” Stacey asked crossing her arms, stepping further into the living room. She looked pale and week, almost a shadow of her usual self and I hated seeing her like this, even if she was starting to annoy me.
 
“It slipped out, but it wasn’t a lie,” I answered finally looking at her. “It is a huge mess that we have created.”
 
“He did all that because he cared for you, then you shove a mess into his face,” Stacey retorted, the words stung and I finally felt what Jonathon must have felt when I had said them. If it was a mess, I wouldn’t have changed much of it. I hated that he punched Matt and I hated that we were caught in the creek. Other than that, it was something I didn’t expect. Something that I didn’t think I could find at my age. I was already set with the idea of not finding a relationship until College. I didn’t expect to care about the preacher’s son down the street.
 
“If it was reversed you would’ve hated Adam for punching someone,” I argued, but when she smirked, I knew it was a weak attempt.
 
“If someone was threatening to come between me and Adam and he punched the shit out of them, I would’ve, well,” she started, but trailed off. I saw that she was blushing as she thought about what she’d do.
 
“Does he know about your condition?” I asked, the fight leaving me completely. I needed to be distracted. Jonathon would be home by now, explaining things to his mother. I didn’t want to think about that conversation. She may have already been notified by the school and was worried about him. Then he would probably just spill everything to her, he was that type of person. She would know how to break down his frail walls.
 
“Yes,” she said smiling. “He’s excited about it really, after he got over being shocked.”
 
“So he’s still with you?” I asked and she nodded her head. I didn’t expect Adam to stick around; it never seemed to happen at our old school. It may not as she starts showing and problems start coming along.
 
“What are we going to do, though?” She asked with a tight smile, protectively rubbing her fingers over her stomach. “We’re both in a mess aren’t we?”
 
“How come you get to say mess and I can’t?” I asked raising my eyebrows.
 
“Because I didn’t use it as a weapon like you did,” she answered shrugging. “You were pissed and wanted to make Jonathon feel bad about it all, I was just wondering what we were going to do.”
 
“Not much we can do,” I said shrugging. “Matt will tell all about Jonathon and me and Mom will explode when she finds out about you.”
 
“I know,” she said shaking her head. “I can hear the lecture and I can already smell the nasty menu she’d think up for me to eat.”
 
“Death by food, for a physiatrist our mother is an insane evil genius,” I joked rolling my eyes, which hurt my black eye.
 
“I know, right?” She said chuckling slightly. “I don’t have any army of supporters behind me here though.”
 
“Nope, no 17 and pregnant club here,” I added and she reached out and slapped my arm.
 
“It wouldn’t have been any better in Maryland either,” she whispered, “not for you or me.”
 
“I’m sure I could’ve found someone whose parents didn’t hate the gays in Maryland,” I countered frowning. “And you wouldn’t have dared gotten yourself sweet talked into bed by the creeps at our old school.”
 
“I dated back home,” she said, “but maybe you’re right it would’ve been easier.”
 
“Yeah,” I sighed, both of us looking at one another.
 
“But,” she said breaking the silence after a few seconds. She smiled, her eyes sparkling like I’d not seen them do in Maryland. “I don’t regret anything that’s happened here either.”
 
“Its nice you can say that after two mornings of puking,” I joked, she rolled her eyes.
 
“And I doubt you would find anyone like Jonathon in Maryland, I don’t think they make those men anymore,” she said sticking out her tongue. It made me smile, which she returned. I looked back out the open front door, the sun hitting the lawn, turning it a bright yellow-green, it caused me to squint and sent a shot of pain to my black eye. Stacey stood beside me looking out the door as well then she turned to look at me.
 
“I wish you could drive, I want to talk to him,” I said then she smiled and walked over to the phone book. I watched as she looked through it, and then started dialing the phone. I frowned when I understood who she had called.
 
“Gloria, Hi,” she greeted, “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m in a bit of a crisis and I would appreciate a ride…”
 
“Are you insane?” I hissed but she held up her finger. My mouth was still open when she hung up, so she closed it with her hand. Then shrugged, walking to the bottom of the stairs.
 
“Better get a quick shower before you retrieve your boyfriend, you stink,” she said then she walked up the stairs.
 
I seemed to have to convince my legs to work again before I walked up the stairs and into the bathroom. I started the shower and stepped into it, then realized I had forgotten to take off my shorts and boxer briefs. Cussing I slid them down and pushed them to the back of the shower out of the way. Then I put my head under the water, the warmth soothed my eye. I opened my mouth to breathe, finally realizing that I had been holding my breath. Then I blindly grabbed a bottle and squirted a little into my hand. It wasn’t until my hair was lathered that I smelled that it was my body wash so I just used the lather on my hands to wash my body as well. Then I rinsed my hair as a knock sounded on the bathroom door.
 
“What?” I grumbled wiping the soap from my eyes.
 
“She’s here, don’t keep us waiting,” Stacey said then I heard her bound down the steps. I turned off the water, thinking of ways to get her back for getting Gloria involved. I remembered how she looked when Lacey and Gavin were shocking her with their stories about one another. I wouldn’t think she’d handle Stacey being pregnant and Jonathon fighting with Matt, protecting his boyfriend.
 
When I was dressed and down stairs, Gloria was sitting on the couch. She looked up and smiled at me, until she took in my black eye and swollen lip. She didn’t question it vocally, but I could tell she was thinking the questions she wanted to ask. Stacey was sitting on the chair, looking me over as well. She broke the uneasy silence by standing, which seemed to snap Gloria out of her trance as well.
 
“Where to?” Gloria asked in her soft motherly tone, which made her presence worse. I doubt no one was nicer than her in this entire town and we were about to drag her into the middle of my problem.
 
“Where do people go when they’ve broken a bone?” I asked and Gloria shot me a look that seemed to be x-raying my entire body trying to find what was broken. “I’m ok, just where?”
 
“To the local hospital for x-rays,” Gloria explained, turning to examine Stacey with the same look. A look I imagined her giving her kids whenever one fell and started screaming on the playground.
 
“Jonathon broke his hand and we want to check in on him,” Stacey explained faking a smile, hoping Gloria wouldn’t question. It seemed to work as a smile returned on her face.
 
“Well that’s nice,” she said as she stepped towards the front door. “Ready to go?”
 
“Sure,” I said and we followed her out to her van.
 
“If it's not any of my business tell me, but why aren’t the two of you in school?” Gloria asked, eyeing us through the rearview mirror. She was still smiling, but neither of us knew how to answer her.
 
“Sick,” Stacey stammered then poked me in the ribs.
 
“Allergies,” I offered then heard Stacey stifle a laugh. She rolled her eyes and mouthed “good one” hiding her lips from Gloria’s view. I just shrugged, debating on whether I should try and fake a sneeze.
 
“You’ll get used to all the pollen and dust,” Gloria said, smiling. “I know when I first moved back here the humidity seemed to strangle me every time I walked outside.”
 
“You’re not from here?” Stacey asked leaning forward slightly.
 
“I’ve lived here for over five years, but I moved here from Rhode Island,” Gloria answered and I wondered if I would have the accent if I lived in North Carolina for the next five years. She seemed to be the type of person to have grown up here and never left. “My parents are from here though, its why I moved back.”
 
“Went to college in Rhode Island?” Stacey asked and I elbowed her, not wanting her to interrogate Gloria too much. Stacey had always been a little nosey.
 
“Tried to, but met my husband, started having children too early, decided to just be a housewife from then on,” she explained and I smiled. She seemed to be the ultimate housewife and she seemed happy with her decision. It also seemed to soothe whatever battles Stacey was having as well as she leaned back and sighed patting her stomach.
 
“So you’re happy?” I asked, not thinking. It earned a looked from Stacey, but Gloria did slow her gentle acceleration to study me.
 
“I am, dear,” she answered, “are you homesick?”
 
“No,” I offered smiling, “its not that.” She didn’t push any further, but we were at the hospital as well. She seemed to accept the vague answer, probably how her children answered her prying questions.
 
“They’re still here, that’s his mother’s car, the blue one,” Gloria said as she held the door open for us to enter. I recognized her in the waiting room, she was filling out forms, and with the door shutting she looked up and smiled at Gloria. She then looked at Stacey and I trying to hide her confusion with a small polite smile that didn’t go to her eyes.
 
“What brings you here, Gloria?” She asked resting the clipboard full of forms on her lap.
 
“Stacey and Christian wanted to see how Jonathon was doing,” Gloria answered nodding in our direction. We hadn’t stepped away from the front door, but Gloria patted the seat beside her. It was directly across the small waiting room from Jonathon’s mother, and I realized I couldn’t remember her name.
 
“Oh?” She said turning her gaze back to us. We left the entrance and sat beside Gloria. “How did you know he had broken his hand?”
 
“I uhh,” I started, but trailed off, “is it really broken?”
 
“We think so,” she said her eyes still studying me. “How did you hurt your head, Christian?”
 
“Fell,” I lied, hoping it wasn’t a huge sin to lie to a preacher’s wife. She smiled a smile I didn’t care much for, but her eyes ticked over to Stacey.
 
“How are you Stacey?” She asked, “coming to class Sunday?”
 
“You bet,” Stacey answered forcing a smile.
 
“You and Adam are a lovely young couple,” she stated, which threw Stacey off guard. I watched her flush and look down at her hands, which she began to rub against her legs. “Thank you, Mrs…”
 
“Oh, call me Julianne,” she interrupted gently, “none of that Mrs., crap.”
 
It was my turn to study Julianne, her smile never faltered though, but I heard Jonathon in her voice, which seemed to ease my tension slightly. She seemed more personable than her husband. She slouched slightly in her chair, distinctly different than her perfect posture in church on Sunday. She also seemed slightly worried and went back to her forms briefly then she finished and took it to the receptionist who thanked her for filling them out completely.
 
“How long have they had him back there?” Gloria asked nodding towards the door.
 
“Oh, only a few minutes,” she answered, “I’m no stranger to this place, Jonathon has been here over football injuries and jumping out of trees, and whatever else.” She rolled her eyes and I bit my sore lip to keep from laughing. Stacey didn’t hide her amusement though.
“Boys,” Gloria said, “when little league starts, God willing I won’t have to be here too often.”
 
“Sports are good for children, I guess,” Julianne offered, “but I’d rather Jonathon be into music or art, something a little less breakable.”
 
“I doubt he could draw a straight line,” Stacey muttered, but the empty hospital seemed to amplify her voice. Julianne laughed, shaking her head in agreement.
 
“My son is the only one in the history of high school to come close to failing art,” she said, “a kindergartener probably could draw better, it just didn’t interest him at all.”
 
“I draw and paint,” I said, “he seems to like my stuff.” I wanted to kick Stacey for laughing at me, I didn’t dare look at her, I knew why she was laughing. It was my turn to blush, but neither Gloria nor Julianne seemed to notice.
 
“I wouldn’t mind seeing some of your work,” Julianne stated, “I paint some, when I have the time.”
 
“I’ll bring over some for you to see sometime,” I offered, knowing it was a likely lie. I would feel completely uncomfortable around Jonathon’s father.
 
“That would be nice, Jonathon’s friends don’t come around much,” she said with a hint of sadness in her voice. “The life of a preacher’s son, has to be difficult at his age, probably why he punched Matthew today at school.”
 
“He punched Matt?” Gloria asked, her eyes wide with concern, much like they were during Sunday school.
 
“Something about getting Matthew back for…” she trailed off then looked at me seeming to realize what she had obviously missed until then. “Matthew punched you, Christian?”
 
“Yes,” I answered, not wanting to lie again, since I was caught. She lifted her left eyebrow, her smile faltering she turned and seemed to study the closed doors. Jonathon stepped out holding up his cast at that moment. I wanted to shove him back through the doors, hating his timing. He seemed blind to his mother’s eyes studying him though. He was smiling at me and I turned to see Julianne blinking the unshed tears from her eyes, she had definitely answered something she had been struggling with. Jonathon though, never looked happier, seeing me there waiting for him. As he walked past me with Julianne, a step ahead of him I feared it would be the last time I saw him. Something in his mother’s eyes told me Jonathon’s world was about to come crashing down around him again.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” Jonathon asked not noticing the look Julianne shot him when he hesitated at the entrance.
“Came to see how your hand was,” I offered forcing a smile trying to avoid Julianne’s gaze as it fell on me again.
“Oh, yeah, its broken,” he said nodding towards the cast, “there goes football this year.”
“It will be fine Jonathon,” Julianne stated, “you can see Christian at school when you get back from your suspension.” She prodded his shoulder, and he sighed not wanting to leave the hospital, but turned and walked through the open door.
“See you later,” I offered just before the door closed behind them.
 
 
 
Copyright © 2011 Krista; All Rights Reserved.
  • Like 9
  • Love 1
  • Wow 1
  • Sad 1
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
You are not currently following this author. Be sure to follow to keep up to date with new stories they post.

Recommended Comments

Chapter Comments

View Guidelines

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now


  • Newsletter

    Sign Up and get an occasional Newsletter.  Fill out your profile with favorite genres and say yes to genre news to get the monthly update for your favorite genres.

    Sign Up
×
×
  • Create New...