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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. 

The Scarlet F - 9. Chapter 9- Do you ever get Lonely?

I didn’t know where my parents were. I didn’t feel like I wanted to be around a happy family like the Edwards. I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t know where else to go.

So I knocked on Donovan’s apartment door. I didn’t know what I was going to say to him. I just felt like needed to be there.

He opened the door.

“Hi.” I squealed, “I’m sorry for bugging you…I’m…I hope I’m not interpreting anything…” as I started to enter I saw a woman sitting on this couch.

“Hi, there.” I waved.

I saw that there two wine glasses and plates on his coffee table. I had interpreted them on a date. Great.

“Oh…I’m sorry.”

She got up off his brown couch, “I’m going.”

I felt a little bad. “No, you don't have to go.”

“It’s okay” she kissed Donovan on the cheek “We’ll talk,” she said coldly as she walked out.

“So you two together?” I nervously smiled to try to find a subject to talk about.

Donovan closed the door. “I really don't know right now. What are you doing out this late?”

“Um…” I put my hand over my mouth and try to figure out what to say. I wanted somebody to vent to. “My dad and I have been looking for my mom…and I had this thought…”

He looked at me with kindness and understanding. It made me feel nervous, too nervous to bring up.

I took a look at the empty plates and the bowl of pasta on his kitchen table. “Wow, you guys were having a nice dinner.”

“Yea, there’s plenty if you’re hungry.” He nicely offered.

“No, I ate.” I lied. The truth was that I’ve not eaten anything but two bites of my lunch and that Alfredo looked pretty good.

Then I grabbed the bowl, “But I’ll try it.” I said stuffing my mouth.

I sat down across from me and asked, “So where are you staying?”

“Motel.”

“Are you sure you are to be okay there?”

I put on a fake smile, “Yea, the guy gave me clean sheets and everything.”

“You could crash here if you want?”

“No, we already paid for the TV.” I nervously laughed thinking about my experience with the motel’s television, which was still running through my head. I went on stuffing my mouth and laid on his couch.

It felt kind of cozy and warm. I started to remember that I was tried. My eyes started to close and drifted off to sleep.

                                                                                                                                                                         ***


In the morning Donovan woke me up.

“Hey Esposito, Happy Saturday.” he cheered.

After I rubbed my eyes, I realized I was still on his couch.

“Oh Sorry,” I said jumping off.

“Don’t be sorry. You hungry?” Donovan patted my shoulder.

“Yea.” I nodded.

“Well, I make a mean omelet.”

I smiled and nodded.

***
I sat at his kitchen table while he cooked. He put the two plates of food on the table and in across from me.

“I’m sorry I ruined your date,” I said taking a bite.

He swallowed a bit then smiled. “You didn’t do anything. I ruined it before you showed up.”

“What happened?” I asked with a mouth full of egg.

He was quiet for a few seconds, “Fine. I guess I need to talk to someone about it…Katie had this thing about saying ‘I love you’, and she was talking all this settling down stuff.”

“Do you want to that?”

“Want what?”

I smirked, “You know, all the wife and kids stuff?”

We both took another bite.

“I don’t know. I like kids I am a teacher for god sake. I just think maybe I’m so used to just taking care of myself…that I can't image taking care of someone else…I don’t know. You know what I mean?”

I nodded, “Yea.”

He took a sip of his coffee, “But it’s just sometimes I don’t know the difference between being independent and being alone.”

“Do you ever get lonely?” I asked.

He finished off his omelet, “Yea, I do. Anyway, Esposito, I talked to Edwards’s dad this morning. He wants you to go over there, so we can all have a talk about your dad?”

I finished my food, “So…how did Mr. Edwards sound?”

“He's really worried about you kid.”

I stood there thinking. So everybody has to have a town meeting to figure out who gets me. Then I started thinking of the “What ifs”? What if I never saw my mom again? What if I never saw my dad again?

What if the Edwards didn’t want me? There was so uncertainty around me, about my family, my feelings, and even my home.

“Hey,” Donovan said noticing the worried look on my face. I felt his arms being wrapped around me. I was shocked and confused for a moment. Then I realized something…he was giving me a hug.

“Everything is going to be okay.” He whispered to me. He let go of me and stared into eyes, “Edwards and I are going to make this okay.”

***
Matt opened the door and grabbed me into a warm hug. Mr. and Mrs.Edwards got up from the couch and both gave me a small hug.

"James, are you okay? Are you hurt?" Mr. Edwards questioned.

"Are you hungry? Pancakes? Waffles? Anything?" Mrs. Edwards exploded.

"I'm fine and Donovan and I ate," I said addressing them both.

"Hey boys," Donovan spoke up. "Why don't you two go hang out upstairs?"

Mr. and Mrs. Edwards nodded in agreement.

Matt stepped in front of them, "I have your backpack in my room."

We went up upstairs to his room.

"Jamie, I was so worried about you? Where were you?" He mothered as he handed me my bag.

I took a seat on his bed, "My dad and I went looking for my mom, and then he left me in a motel room…"

I debated if I should tell him about what happened at the motel.

"Then what?" Matt asked moving his desk rolling chair toward me.

I lower my eyes, so wouldn't end up daydreaming how cute his curls were. I made the decision to lie, "I just got bored so I went to Donovan’s apartment."

"Why didn't you come here?"

"I don't know," I smirked another lie.

"So what was Donovan's apartment like?"

Now that was something I could tell him about. I told him about him being on a date, his cooking, and about him being unsure about marriage and kids.

He seemed amazed "Wow, you got to see where a teacher lives."

We both chucked. It was nice to laugh after everything and I could always rely on my goofy best friend for that.

"So where are you staying tonight?"

"I don’t know," I smirked.

"You should stay here. It’s lasagna night," He said lightly tossing me a baseball.

“I don’t think lasagna is going to fixed anything," I said as threw the ball back with bitter anger.

“Come on, Lasagna fixes everything.” Matt joked.

Matt caught the ball then put it down and walked over to sit beside me.

“I know...just remember that I'm your friend."

He said as he accidentally dropped his hand over mine. His hand felt so hot on my skin and it scared the hell out of me. I should have moved my hand but I didn't and I shouldn't have thought about kissing him but I did.

"I know, it's okay Mac you don't have to worry about me." I managed to say, trying to keep my pride and self-control.

 ***

At dinner Mary held most of the conversation, sharing what seemed to be a never-ending story about a boy who stole her glue. I was relieved that at least somebody was talking, I hated the quiet. Mr. and Mrs. Edwards slowly ate their food as they stared at me. Matt was mostly quiet occasionally making funny faces at me like putting his spoon and fork in mouth to pretend to be walrus. Usually Mrs. Edwards would scold for it, but I think she let him do it because it made me laugh.

After dinner, Mr. Edwards insisted that he and I "clean up" meaning throwing the dishes in the sink.

"He took it out on you didn't he, James?"

I nodded.

"I'm sorry."

I looked at him confused, "What are you sorry for?"

He cleared his throat, "I'm sorry that I failed you. I'm sorry that didn't do anything sooner. I didn't think Jim was that bad at home and I didn't think your mother would leave like this."

"You know that is what hurts the most." I sniffed "I thought I had at least one good parent."

He patted my back, "I just want you to remember that we are here for you. So what is on your mind right now?"

I couldn't tell him the truth.

'Um…" I said, "I think I just want to go to bed."

He nodded "I get that, but if you ever need anything, I'll be here." He said giving a small side hug.

 ***

Mrs. Edwards set up the cot for me by the window in Matt’s room. I couldn't sleep. I started to realize that I couldn't sleep in a dark quiet room. I figured out that the reason was that almost every night of my life I would hear the sounds of trucks and people threatening each other. To normal people that might seem annoying, but I had adapted to it too well. I also realized the only reason I ever slept well at the Edwards’ house was that Mac was lying next to me. I was watching him rolled around in his bed as I sat there holding my black notebook. I turned on the little lamp on Matt's desk and looked through the window.

You were never there so how can I miss you.

You were beating at my heart, so why does it suddenly feel broken.

Being with you created pain, pain through my whole body.

But now I'm shocked to find that it is more painful being without you.

"Jamie?" I heard mumble half asleep.

I quickly turned off the lamp and ran to the cot.

"Jamie?" He whispered as he walked up to my bed. "You okay?"

I didn't know why I did this, but I moved over to the side of the bed to make space for him.

"Do you want to talk?" He asked as laid down next to me.

"I don't really know what to say."

"Is there is anything I can say or do to help?"

I turned to face him. He looked at me with those sweet brown eyes and that cute smile.

"Can you just lay here with me?"

Copyright © 2019 Another Gay Writer; All Rights Reserved.
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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. 
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