I'm Not From Earth - 10. Ten

t e n

Rover woke up to darkness and a throbbing head. It took him a moment to realize that something was covering his face, and he reached up to remove the folded warm cloth.

He blinked twice to clear his blurry vision, and when his eyes had cleared, he saw that Somerset was busy dabbing at a cut on Rover's thigh. Rover's lips curled into a tired smile, but he made no move to greet his friend. This was the first time that Somerset was tending to Rover's injuries, as it was always the other way around in the past. It wasn't just football that had damaged Somerset, but his recklessness and his apparent lust to picking fights in general. Every other week, Rover would patch his friend up in the school's washroom, using band-aids and stolen disinfectant. Somerset detested the nurses ever since they fiercely retained him from football practice for six weeks because of a sprain.

Rover thought that it was a reasonable resting period, but he kept his thoughts to himself. Back then, his feelings for Somerset were confusing and strong. He had desperately wished for Somerset to reciprocate, but he came to accept the fact that Somerset was only ever interested in.... football. Rover hinted nothing of his feelings for he wasn't sure what they really were, and only when they started to fade away did he realize that he preferred boys over girls. He never struggled with his identity -- it unveiled itself to him, and Rover didn't really mind that he was gay. Or rather, he didn't have time to be affected by it, for his father had arrived shortly back from his business trip and the days spent at home were hard.

That was a little more than a year ago.

Watching Somerset's buff body and familiar, glinting brown eyes brought nothing but a tiny stir in Rover's chest, and he knew that he was no longer head over heels over his friend.

"You're awake," Somerset stated, almost accusingly.

"Uhm, yeah." Rover nodded.

Somerset yawned, then extended his burly arms to the ceiling and stretched. "I'm no good at cleaning cuts and shit, but I wrapped you up where you were bleeding. And I don't know how to take care of bruises other than slapping a big piece of raw meat and I don't have any so..."

"It's fine." Rover heaved himself up with a grunt. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Rover watched as his friend got up and made his way to the kitchen. The sound of a kettle's whistling silenced, and Somerset returned with mug of hot water and set it by Rover's side.

"So," he said, sitting cross legged on the floor, his eyes hard and his lips pursed, "you gonna tell me what happened?"

Rover took the mug and blew on the surface, and sipped cautiously, dragging out the moment. "Yeah."

"Alright."

Another cautious sip.

"I don't have much patience bro, so start talking," Somerset said dryly.

"You don't need to tell me that," Rover shot back, then said, "I'll tell you what I remember, but I don't think I remember lots."

"Did your father beat you again?"

Rover swirled the water whilst his friend scratched his foot irritably. "I thought I was the one talking."

Somerset let himself fall backwards with a groan.

Rover laughed. Reluctantly, he admitted, "Okay. Yeah. That's what happened."

"Fuck. What started it?"

"I knocked over my alarm clock," Rover said coolly. Somerset looked like he was expecting more of an explanation, but Rover quickly said, "I'm not going back."

"You shouldn't," Somerset agreed, "you can stay with me. The co-owner of this building pities me, you know, orphan boy and all, so I get to stay here for free."

"He lets you stay here because you have no parents?" Rover repeated, disbelievingly.

"She," Somerset corrected, and then grinned, "and well, I guess that's not the only reason. I think she has a thing for me or something..."

"Or something?" Rover's asked skeptically. He could pretty much predict what he was going to say next, and he was reluctant to hear it.

"Okay!" Somerset burst out dramatically, sitting up. "I seduced her! But she never touched me after I told her that I had no parents. And c'mon! She was in charge of all the rooms and stuff. And so what if she's fucking fifty something? She still has a decent body, but her face was gross. I wonder why she didn't give herself a facelift, considering she definitely went through all the trouble messing with her butt and..."

"I'm hungry," Rover announced, standing up, but his friend grabbed his arm and yanked him back onto the bed.

"It was in the middle of a storm," Somerset continued, speaking as fast as he could, not relenting his grip and leaning closer towards Rover, "so I was making my way back from school to the orphanage and I ran into the nearest building... "

"I don't wanna hear it."

And when Somerset persisted to go into graphic detail, Rover seized a pillow and promptly slugged his friend as hard as he could over the head, grinning when he toppled off the bed and fell flat on his stomach with a satisfying whump.

After Somerset chased Rover around the apartment for the next half hour or so, they decided to order Chinese and waited impatiently until delivery arrived. Then, discarding chopsticks after succeeding in dropping too much rice on their shirts, they proceeded to eat with their hands. The sun rose to midday, and then fell to a sunset as they just sat around the TV and did nothing, talking about everything that seemed to matter the most to Somerset and everything that mattered nothing to Rover -- girls, football, fights and girls.

Only until darkness came and the stars rose did Rover decide to explain tidbits of what had happened last night, as well as what had led up to that point. He was selective in the information he gave though.

"I guess," Rover said, "I wanted to stand up to father or something. But then like, I chickened out afterwards and so I went to bed. And... and then he asked me if mother ever taught me not to knock over alarm clocks in the middle of the night, and when I said yes, he got angry and said I lied. And then... yeah."

"Shit." Somerset was stretched out on the foot of the bed, head turned and his attention turned fullest.

"It's not too bad I guess," Rover said truthfully, but Somerset just shook his head, his expression incredulous and full of disgust.

"You had so many bruises man. On your back..." he trailed off, pausing, his heavy eyebrows falling even lower. "You didn't see them, did you? It looked like you were..."

"They don't hurt," Rover said quickly. Not too badly, really.

"Hah! What do you take me for, bro? A fucking idiot?"

Rover felt a pang of anger rush through him. Even though Somerset knew of father's violent tendencies, the issue was still raw. Rover was only briefing him to explain why he wasn't going home -- he had no intention to discuss anything.

"Sett," Rover warned through gritted teeth, deciding immediately to skip out on the rest of his explanation, "only one thing matters, and that's I'm not going home."

"So," Somerset laughed, "you're saying that, just because you choose to ignore the shitty problem, it won't be there?"

"It's there," Rover said, fumbling with his words, "but I don't care about it, so like, uhm, it won't affect me."

"You care."

"You don't know crap about me."

"I know that you care bro," Somerset said, sitting up, his expression intense, "and since you do, you can't just fucking ignore the problem, you'll have to do something about it."

Rover stood up, the blood pounding in his ears. Somerset stood up as well, blocking Rover's attempts at walking away. Pushing him, challenging him. Rover gritted his teeth and clenched his hands. At times, he really hated his friend.

"And so what if you don't?" Somerset yelled, "So fucking what if you don't care? You positive that you're father would just let it fucking be?"

"Don't act like you know my --"

"You think that he'll just let you go like that? Or you think it'll be slightly, uh tougher, and he'll give you a few nasty phone calls that you can put up with because you can just tell him politely over the phone I don't care!! You really believe that don't you? You're really fucking brilliant, aren't you?"

Rover shoved past his friend and made his way to the door as fast as he could, angry to the point he was shaking. He fumbled with his shoe laces, trying to convince himself that he should had lied and told Somerset that he hadn't been hurt by his father at all, and that his friend was just an idiot not to keep his trap shut when silence was needed.

Somerset was right of course. The fact that he was angered Rover even more.

When Rover couldn't tie his shoes with his unsteady fingers, he tucked them roughly into his socks and pulled at the door. When it didn't open, he yanked with all his might so that the deadbolt snapped off in a puff of splinters. He felt a hand on his shoulder, but shrugged it off roughly and stormed off down the corridor.

"Yo..." Somerset began.

"Go to hell."

"The elevator's the other way."

Rover took off his shoe and chucked it at his friend. He caught it deftly. Letting out a stream of curses, Rover turned to change direction, but then stepped on a loose shoelace that had slipped out of his socks, and fell forwards.

Dazed and unbelieving of his ill luck, he felt himself being turned over. Somerset's expression looked pained, as though he was caught in the furious threshold between worry and laughter.

"Fuck," Somerset croaked, "are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Rover snapped, feeling the heat blooming in his cheeks. He sat up gingerly and threw off his friend's steadying arm.

A long silence passed, in which they both just stood in the hallway, a safe distance away from each other. Somerset broke first.

"This is how life works," Somerset said. His voice was surprisingly gentle, raw with traces of sadness. "If you run away, you'll never fix it."

Somerset's expression hardened, and Rover felt his anger disappear. Suddenly unable to meet his friend's eyes, he looked away. Where did those words come from? Rover thought, wondering why Somerset, usually detached about anything that wasn't to do with himself, was so pushy about this particular subject. His friend was even more secretive about his past, and the only thing Rover knew was that he was orphaned from birth.

"Wanna order Domino's?" Somerset said, making his way back to the door. "I'm fucking starved."

The rest of the night passed by in pensive silence that Somerset seemed extremely eager to disturb, but somehow managed to keep his silence. After a quick stuffing of delivered pizza, Rover showered and made himself comfortable in a seat by the window. At first he just sat and spaced out, watching the neon glows flare up the night sky, but then his mind started to wander. It wasn't until hours later did he realize that he just couldn't get Slade out of his head.

Although this Slade was possibly the most eye pleasing thing Rover had ever seen, he also happened to be the most confusing, insane, and the most irritating stranger Rover had ever met -- and yet, Rover wanted to see him again.

Was that possible? He asked himself, and even as he voiced it within his head, he knew it wasn't likely. Downtown was huge, and it wasn't likely for them to accidentally bump into each other again. No, meeting him again was nigh impossible, but Rover could still remember. He could remember the soft wind whistling through Slade's hair, the moonlight dappling his skin. He could remember Slade's lips, and the dimple that creased his shining smile. His hands, that fiery touch, and those beautiful orbs of glimmering green.

Rover could see his eyes as he was sitting in that dumpy little couch adjacent to the window, right then and there. Staring at him, commanding him, laughing at him, imploring him. Desiring him.

Desiring me? Rover scoffed. He smacked himself on the forehead, hard enough that it stung.

    *