Saving Ezra - 9. Chapter 9

 

The entryway of Joshua’s home held a linoleum landing with stairs going up to Ezra’s left and down to his right. The upstairs looked like it had brown and tan carpeting while the downstairs was blue, but both looked like they were the same style of carpet. Directly above him was a simple chandelier to light the landing.

Ezra immediately removed his shoes, toeing them off so he didn’t have to bend over. His stomach was still sore and bruised from the belt his father had used on him. He stopped himself from taking off his hoodie like he was required to do at home. He clenched his hands together, suddenly deeply self-conscious. Ezra tried to think of the last time he was in someone else’s home besides Deacon Luke’s or his own. His father had never let him go to classmates’ houses, and as he got older no one wanted to invite him anyway. It was surreal being in Joshua’s house. It felt strangely intimate, like he was seeing something very private.

Ezra startled slightly as Joshua’s mother spoke to him gently.

“I’m Abby, by the way, hon,” she said as she patted his hand. “I’m Josh’s mom. I don’t want to hear Mrs. anything out of your mouth when you speak to me. I’m just Abby and my husband is just John, Johnny when I’m trying to annoy him.” She gave Ezra a little wink in a smile. “Now, Josh told me you ran into some trouble today.” Her voice stayed calm and kind even as Ezra looked away from her. “It sounded like it was pretty rough, and Josh wanted to take you to the hospital and call the police, but you said no. Is that right?”

Ezra nodded. The teen wished no one knew. He wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened. He was ashamed of himself for it, sure that the whole thing was somehow his fault. Joshua just didn’t understand.

“I’m going to make a deal with you, Ezra.” Her pixie face popped in front of him, forcing his hazel eyes to meet her green ones. “I’m a nurse at the hospital. I work in the emergency room most of the time, so I can guarantee you there’s not much I haven’t seen.” Her gaze held him, he blinked, but he couldn’t look away as she continued speaking calmly. “If you’ll let me, I’ll check you over, tip to toes.”

She booped his nose with a fingertip and Ezra couldn’t help a small smile. Was this what a mother was like, this caring kindness? It was so warm and gentle. Ezra’s smile slipped away. He could have had this, if he hadn’t killed his mother.

“After that, if I don’t think you are hurt enough to warrant a trip to the hospital, I won’t push you to go,” Abby continued. “But, if I look and I see something that needs more than me and my little first-aid kit can handle, we take you to the hospital.” Abby’s hand was warm and soft when she took Ezra’s. “If you aren’t comfortable with that, then I completely understand, and we can head over to the hospital right now. We can go with you. I know all the doctors and I’ll make sure you see someone kind and capable.” She gave his fingers a little squeeze. “What do you want to do, honey?”

“I guess…” He licked his suddenly dry lips. “I guess you can look.”

His eyes cut to the side, suddenly able to look away as a curl of anxiety burned in his gut. He didn’t see another option. He couldn’t go to the hospital and this tiny woman with wild hair and deep green eyes could make that happen, Ezra was sure of it, even if he protested. And she worked in the ER… she said she’d seen everything. It hurt, but it wasn’t terrible. He’d had so much worse before and not needed a doctor. Ezra was sure Joshua’s mom would take one look and then shoo him off with a couple of bandaids.

“Let’s go upstairs, then.” Abby turned to her son. “Go get me the big first-aid kit, would you, baby?”

Joshua nodded eagerly and sprinted down the stairs, glad to be able to do something to help.

“Now, if you ever want to stop, or if you change your mind, just speak right up, Ezra,” Abby said as she led him up the steps. “You won’t hurt my feelings, I promise.”

They took a right at the top of the stairs and down a hall lined with pictures of Joshua and his family. They passed a bathroom and stopped in front of three doors at the end of the hall. They entered the door on the right. It was a simple bedroom with a television on a stand in one corner and a sewing machine on another. An unfinished quilt was spread on the bed with bits and pieces of matching fabric. Abby swept the bed clear, draping everything over the sewing machine. The bed was primly made with flowery throw pillows at the head. She pulled a plain white sheet out of the closet, settling it over the comforter with a flick of her wrists.

“Do you want Josh in here with us?” Abby asked. “Or would you rather it just be me? I’m fine with whatever you’re most comfortable with.”

“J-just you, please,” Ezra stammered, horrified at the thought of Joshua seeing him, all of him.

“No problem, sweetie,” the little redhead reassured just as Josh rushed in the door with a large yellow and gray toolbox in his arms. “Thank you, honey. Just set it down on the bed and then go make us some coffee. We’ll be out as soon as we’re done.”

Joshua set down the toolbox as directed and slowly, hesitantly left, though he clearly wanted to stay. The door clicked shut behind him.

“Do you want to start with your top half or your bottom half?” Abby asked gently.

“Th-they didn’t hurt my top,” Ezra blurted, clutching at his hoodie like she would tear it off him.

“Sweetheart, you have a big old scrape down your cheek and the back of your neck,” Abby told him matter-of-factly.

Ezra’s hand flew to his face, only then feeling the sting of the scratch that curved down his cheek.

“I didn’t notice,” he said blankly.

“I know,” she smiled gently at him. “I think you might be a little shocky. It’s okay. But it means I need to take a peek under your shirt. Would you be more comfortable with a doctor? It’s okay, honey.”

“No,” Ezra shook his head. “It’s fine. I just have scars… and I fell down and landed on a rock, so my stomach is bruised.” The lie sat like bitter poison on his tongue.

“A rock?” She lifted a copper eyebrow.

“A big rock,” Ezra said, not meeting her eyes. “I’m really clumsy.”

“Well, like I said, I’ve seen just about everything.” Abby patted the teen’s hand. “No worries. So, top or bottom?”

“Um, bottom, I guess.” Ezra looked at the floor. This room had green carpet. It matched the curtains and the comforter.

“Sounds good,” Abby chirped, pulling another sheet out of the closet, this one had little blue flowers covering its surface. She laid it out on the bed on top of the white one. “I’m going to turn my back and give you some privacy. When you’re bare from the waist down just hop under that top sheet, face up or down, whatever’s most comfortable. If you need help with your pants or socks just let me know.” The petite woman turned to face the door, looking content to stand there all day, if needed.

Ezra unbuttoned his jeans with shaking hands. Someone probably should look at it. It really was kind of painful, especially after sitting during the quick ride to Joshua’s house. The teen shucked his pants and underwear quickly, trying not to think about it, pulling off his socks with the rest. He scooted under the sheet, lying on his stomach, hugging a pillow through the bottom sheet.

“Okay,” Ezra said timidly. “You can turn around.”

“I’m going to start at your feet and work my way to your waist,” Abby explained gently as she folded the sheet down to the middle of his back. “You tell me right away if anything hurts, okay?”

Ezra nodded into the pillow as Josh’s mom flipped open the tool box. It had plastic trays stacked inside, which Abby removed and set out on the bed. The woman was serious about her first-aid kit. It had everything she might need and some things she probably never would. She rubbed hand-sanitizer briskly over her hands and wrists then snapped on a pair of purple nitrile gloves with practiced ease.

“We’ll start with your right foot, honey.” Abby’s voice was warm and kind. “Let me know if I should stop.”

Ezra nodded again, wanting it to be over.

The green-eyed mother rested her hand on the boy’s right heel, letting the heat of her palm soak through the fabric, giving him time to get used to her touch. Ezra tried not to tense as he waited for her to pull the sheet completely off him. She lifted the sheet, exposing him up to the ankle and no more. The teen let out a little huff of a relieved sigh.

“I see you have some scars on the sole of your foot.” She moved the sheet so she could see the other side as well. “Both feet. Hmm. Do they hurt?”

Ezra shook his head, burying his face in the pillow.

“Every time you take a step, you take that pain into yourself as the suffering of the Lord,” Paul told him as he quenched the hot metal of the long thick nail under the faucet, holding it with pliers. “Use that pain to remind you to walk away from sin.”

Ezra waited for her to ask, her mind scrambling. He wasn’t sure he could effectively lie to this woman or evade her questions. It was hard to breathe, his face was pressed so deeply into the soft fluff of the pillow.

But, she didn’t ask, she moved on, looking over one leg and then the other. She found some minor scrapes and bruises. She’d ask if things hurt, sometimes. She cleaned a couple of scratches with antiseptic. None of them needed a bandaid.

She didn’t ask about the bruises or scars she found.

Ezra was surprised he was starting to relax. It had happened slowly, his hands unclenching, his face no longer pressed tight to the pillow beneath him. The teen tried not to tense back up as Abby covered his legs and maneuvered the sheet so one bare asscheek was exposed.

“Oh, honey,” the woman said softly. “That looks like it hurts. I’m so sorry.”

“Is it…” Ezra had to swallow down the knot in his throat.”Is it bad?”

“You’re pretty scraped up, and it looks like you have some nasty splinters.” She moved the sheet so she could see the other side. “It’s the same here. I don’t see anything that needs stitches, though.”

Careful hands spread the marred flesh at the crease just enough to let her see his opening.

“I don’t see any tearing,” she commented. “Tell me truthfully, sweetheart, do you have pain inside from what happened?”

“No.” Ezra clenched his eyes closed. “They didn’t get it… inside me.”

Abby let out a relieved breath and let go of the boy to reach over to her supplies.

“You sure you don’t want to see a doctor and have them numb you to take out the splinters?” Abby asked. “Some of these are kind of big and deep.”

“You want this big cock nice and deep inside you, whore?” Ezra heard Deacon Luke’s hissed whisper in his mind.

“N-no,” Ezra stammered, realizing he’d been frozen, silent, for longer than was reasonable. “Just do it. I’ll be fine.”

“You tell me or just raise your hand up if it’s too much and I’ll stop.” Abby told him. “I’ll do my best to be quick and careful.”

Ezra only nodded, taking slow even breaths to try to stay calm. This was going to hurt.

Abby was as good as her word. She cleaned the scratches, then pulled out every splinter she could find, checking in with Ezra often to make sure he was doing okay. The teen felt a warm wet trail escape from the gouge holding a splinter Abby was chasing. Before he realized what it was, he felt the drip fall to the sheet beneath him.

“It’s… There’s blood,” Ezra told her. He was very familiar with the sensation of blood trickling over his skin.

“I know, honey,” Abby soothed. “This one is being difficult. I think it’s the last one though. Do you need me to stop? Is it hurting too much?”

“Your sheet.” Ezra shook his head. “And it will stain the comforter underneath. I’m so sorry.” The boy sounded absolutely crushed. He should have noticed it and warned her sooner. She was doing all this to help him, and Ezra was ruining her things.

“Ezra,” Abby’s voice radiated concern. “I’m not worried about the sheets or blankets. They’ll wash. It’s fine. I’m more concerned about you.”

The teen could only murmur another soft apology, confused by her lack of anger.

“There we go!” the woman said triumphantly as she freed the last splinter and set it on a gauze with the others.

She carefully tucked all the large and small bits of wood and the cotton beneath it into a little baggie, painfully aware that it might be needed as evidence later. She covered Ezra with the sheet again after double-checking that each wound was cleaned, smeared with ointment, and covered with a bandaid if needed.

“I’m going to turn my back again,” Abby explained to her patient after tucking the baggy of splinters out of sight in the toolbox. “You roll over and get yourself situated. I just need to check the front of your legs unless they hurt your privates.”

“They didn’t,” Ezra assured her with a shiver. Thank God, he thought.

Even his dad and Deacon Luke had never hurt him there. Just the thought of it made Ezra feel cold deep in his gut. It was such a vulnerable area, the possibility of so much pain and injury was frightening.

Ezra rolled over, fighting with the sheet as it became trapped under him, but Joshua’s mom stood serene and patient as she waited for him. When he was finally on his back and covered up he told her quietly that she could turn around. When she did, Ezra searched her face, trying to find the disgust and disdain for him he thought she had to have been hiding. He found nothing but concern and calm efficiency as she carefully checked him over, uncovering one leg at a time. She asked if the parallel scars tracking up his shin hurt-

“You need a reminder of God’s Ladder to Heaven,” Paul told Ezra as the father carved another perfect line across his boy’s skin. “Climbing that ladder can be difficult and painful, but you always have to try as hard as you can to turn from the Devil and look up to the Lord, son.”

-And Abby repeated the question when she found matching scars on the other side.

“It’s fine,” Ezra told her, looking away after repeating what he’d said when she asked the first time.

There wasn’t much for Abby to do on the front of his legs except mentally catalog every bruise and scar. She covered him again and turned away to hide her sadness and anger at Ezra’s past and present suffering.

Her voice betrayed none of her inner turmoil as she told him he could put on a pair of pants in the top drawer of the dresser. There were a couple of pairs of sweatpants in there that had been Josh’s when he was younger. Abby sometimes wore them, rolling up the bottoms and cinching the waist tight, if she had messy work to do around the house or yard. She thought they would only be a little big on the small teen.

“When we’re done I’ll throw your clothes in the washer,” she told him.

Ezra sat up, clutching the sheet to his chest.

“You don’t have to do that, ma’am,” the teen told her. “I can change when I get home.”

“It’s Abby,” she reminded him kindly. “Ma’am is for old ladies.” She chuckled. “And I won’t hear of anything else,” she told him. “I’m not sending you home in clothes like that.”

Besides, she had plans to look the clothes over when Ezra wasn’t present and document and photograph every drop of blood or tear in the cloth. She had a nagging suspicion that once Ezra returned home, the clothes would be washed and quickly mended or simply thrown away. Ezra adamantly refused to involve the police, that didn’t mean they shouldn’t be or that the redhead couldn’t document everything she could to help the the authorities. However, she didn’t want the teen to panic and run from her by pushing him too hard. The boy was just a child in her eyes. He might not be doing what was in his best interest after he’d been through a trauma, and after seeing his scars and watching his behavior Abby was certain this was far from the first terrible thing that had befallen the poor boy.

So, she stood, determined and strong, waiting patiently for Ezra to do what she’d told him. For a moment she thought he’d refuse, that he’d take his clothes and leave. But, after a long hesitation, Ezra stood and Abby heard the drawer open. The teen chose a pair that were dark gray and worn soft with repeated washings. A streak of pale green paint that matched the exterior of the house was streaked up one thigh. Ezra put them on, careful of the bandaids on his backside and the sore pull of his muscles.The sweats were baggy but not huge on him. The string tie at the waist kept them from sliding down. Ezra’s eyes kept wandering to the small bloodstain marring the pale sheets.

Abby didn’t turn around when he told her he was dressed.

“Very good, hon,” she responded. “I hope they fit alright. Now, just take off everything from the waist up and lay down again. I’ll check you over quick and give you a clean shirt.”

Ezra’s arms wrapped around his stomach protectively. Under his hoodie and t-shirt, Ezra’s stomach ached, still striped from his father’s belt. The teen stared at Abby’s back, thinking desperately, but he couldn’t think of a reasonable way out. Ezra bit his lip, mind whirling, as Josh’s mom stood patiently.

If Ezra refused, Abby would want to take him to the hospital. If he refused that, she might call the cops. If Ezra only let her see, then that should be it, right? He’d get it over with and then he could forget all of this ever happened.

Ezra shucked his hoodie, taking the shirt with it, and tossed them away like they were on fire. Before he could change his mind, he climbed on the bed and yanked the sheet up to his chin.

“O-okay,” Ezra squeaked, clenching his eyes closed.

The teen felt gentle hands sweep his nut-brown hair out of his face. Ezra didn’t remember ever being touched so carefully before. He didn’t know why it made his eyes sting and his chest ache.

Abby cleaned the scrape on his cheek and another on his forehead, then smeared them with antibiotic ointment. She parted his hair with her fingers, looking for cuts or bumps, but didn’t find any. His throat was also fine, she saw, after she had snuck the sheet down slightly. Just some fading bruising that made her fight a frown.

“Oh, honey,” Abby said sadly as she uncovered one arm.

She’d never seen so many scars on anyone who hadn’t seen combat. Abby sighed softly as she carefully lifted the boy’s arm to check the underside. There were no fresh scrapes or cuts and nothing seemed broken, just scars upon scars and bruises around the wrist from Tom Nurhan roughly holding Ezra down. She tucked the appendage back under the sheet and checked the other just as carefully. The arm was like a mirror image of the other. It was unnerving. A number of crosses were cut or burned into the pale flesh, each one having a matching mate on the other side of Ezra’s body. Every line marring the teen looked so deliberate, like there was a purpose to each and every one. It gave Abby goosebumps.

She folded the flowered fabric down to show Ezra’s chest and more scars. Abby mentally noted every cruel line and moved on. She expected more scars on the boy’s stomach but was sadly unsurprised by the greening bruises she found. They covered him from the base of his sternum to just above the bunched waist of the borrowed sweatpants and wrapped around Ezra’s side.

Abby was silent as she pulled the sheet up.

“Roll over, sweetheart,” the woman said softly as she turned away again. “Almost done.”

Ezra complied, happy to hide his face and the worst of his bruises from her.

Abby was confused by what she saw covering the boy’s back. Bruises were scattered across his skin as well as where they wrapped around from the front. It took her a moment to figure out the scars, some were pink and new and some had silvered with time.

Whip marks.

“All done, honey.” Abby stood, tearing the gloves from her hands, heart pounding. “Shirts are in the drawer under the pants.” She tossed the wadded nitrile into a little wicker garbage basket and bent to scoop up his clothes. “I’ll be back in a minute to talk.”

She left the teen to it, leaning against the door after it clicked shut behind her.

“Mom?”

She turned her head to see her son, her sweet boy, standing down the hall with concern pulling his features.

“He doesn’t need the emergency room, I think,” Abby said wearily, her calm professional facade slipping. “I still have some concerns, though. I want to talk to you later about Ezra, okay?”

Joshua nodded, worry tumbling like a rock in his gut. His mom sighed softly and entered the door across the hall to her bedroom. She left Ezra’s clothes on her bed to deal with later. She’d looked him over and cleaned him up, but she wasn’t quite done with him.

Abby shut her door behind her and stepped forward to knock gently on the guest room door.

“C-come in,” came the shaky reply.

The redhead took a fortifying breath and walked in. Ezra was standing awkwardly next to the bed. He’d carefully folded the sheets and set them on the comforter. The teen had been relieved to see that his blood hadn’t seeped through the white sheet he’d laid on. He felt bad enough for messing that up. His troubled hazel eyes dropped to his hands. He pulled the long sleeves of the over-sized sweatshirt down nervously so the cuffs just left the ends of his fingers sticking out.

Abby sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at Ezra. “Does it hurt to sit, honey?”

The teen flushed scarlet and sat gingerly next to her. “It’s a lot better now,” he told her, not meeting her eyes.

“I’m glad.” Abby pulled her legs up to sit cross-legged on the soft comforter. “Josh has told me a lot about you. He said you’re a great assistant, that you’ve helped him a lot with his research.”

“I don’t do much,” Ezra murmured.

“Hmm, well, he thinks you do.” The redhead leaned back on her palms. “He said you helped keep him organized. He has trouble with that. Everything ends up in a pile with him.” She chuckled softly. “Wait ‘til you see his room.” She tipped her head back to look up at the ceiling fan. “But he's in college now, a little old for me to be scolding him about making his bed.”

Ezra couldn't help the little smile that tugged at his lips.

“What about you?” Abby asked. “What year are you in school?”

“Uh, I'm a senior this year,” he told her.

“That's exciting,” she said genuinely. “Stressful, I'm sure, but still exciting.”

“Yeah,” the teen said, thinking it was definitely more stressful than exciting.

“So, you're seventeen?”

“Eighteen now,” he murmured, picking at the cuff of his borrowed shirt. “I look younger than I am.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” she said. “I looked about fourteen until I was twenty-two.” Abby grinned. “Then I looked fifteen.”

Ezra nodded politely.

“Do you have any siblings?” She asked, sounding genuinely interested. “Josh has an older sister.”

“It’s just me and my dad,” he told her hesitantly.

Abby was quiet a moment. “How's school, other than the bullying?” She watched the fan turning slowly above her.

He wanted to tell her it was fine. It's what he always said when people asked. He was fine. So was school, church, and everything else. Fine. But that's not what came out of his mouth.

“It's… it's hard.” Ezra pulled his hands deeper into the sleeves. “I'm worried about passing everything so I can graduate. That's why they gave me the job with Joshua, so I can get extra credit to graduate on time.”

“School's hard when there are bullies.” Abby shook her head. “That's not your fault. It makes it even harder when things are rough at home.”

“It's.. No. It's fine at home.”

Abby rolled her head slightly to the side to look at him. “I told you I've seen just about everything working at the hospital,” she reminded the teen. “Your dad must be pretty strict, huh?”

Ezra's hands clenched in his sleeves. She knew.

“He just wants what's best for me,” he defended, mind scrambling for a way to salvage the conversation.

“A parent should always try to do what's best for their kids.” She looked back to the fan. “So, when he hurts you it's discipline?” Abby asked without judgment in her tone.

“If I do wrong, then I need… correction,” he tried to explain, but his words weren't coming out right. “I mean, I'm bad… a lot.”

“Really?” Abby asked. “You seem like a good kid to me. Josh says you're a hard worker and he thinks you're pretty great. And you've been nothing but patient and very polite with me.” Her nose crinkled as she thought about it. “How often do you get disciplined at home?”

“I… only when I earn it, ma'am- I mean, Abby.” A curl of anxiety twisted in his chest. “I'm a lot of trouble for my dad. He tries hard to help me.”

She contemplated that a moment. “Looks like you got the belt on your stomach.” Abby sat forward and rested her hands on her knees. “Was that this week?”

“I,” he faltered, eyes darting around the room as though something would give him the right answer. “I did something really bad.”

He expected her to ask what he did, but she just sat calmly next to him as she thought.

“Did you do something really bad to get all the scars?” she finally asked.

“Usually, yeah,” he stammered. “I'm not a good kid.” It hurt to say it. Ezra wanted Joshua's mom to think better of him, but he knew that would be misleading her.

“I can only go off what I’ve seen for myself and what my son’s told me,” Abby said. “And you seem pretty good to me.”

Ezra looked down, but didn’t argue with her, though he knew she was wrong.

“Your dad hurts you,” Abby stated simply. “Anyone else besides the nasty kids at school?”

Ezra froze, his heart kicking in his ribcage. No. She couldn’t know about Deacon Luke. But, she’d known about his dad. The teen hugged himself, mind racing, thinking about anything she’d seen or heard or that Joshua might have told her that would give it away. What if he had slipped somewhere?

“N-no?” Ezra finally stuttered, utterly unsure what he should say.

“Hmm,” was Abby’s only response.

Oh, God, she knew.

“I mean,” Ezra swallowed hard. “It’s my fault though. It’s all my fault. Deacon Luke wouldn’t d-do those things if I wasn’t… If I didn’t…” The teen covered his mouth with his hand, physically stopping his runaway mouth from damning himself even more.

“What does Deacon Luke do, honey?” Her voice was gentle, caring, yet terror clawed at his insides.

“I have to go, now.” Ezra stood abruptly, wincing slightly at the pain the movement caused.

“Ezra, wait.” Abby stood, careful not to touch the boy in case he might bolt. “Stay. You’re okay. You’re safe here.” She stood at his side, purposefully not blocking the door. “Besides, sweetheart, I’m washing your clothes and you don’t have any socks on.”

The teen let out a slow defeated breath.

“You can tell me anything, you know,” Abby said. “I’m not judgmental. I won’t be angry with you.”

“I don’t want to talk about anything anymore.” Ezra’s voice sounded ragged and worn.

“That’s fine,” the redhead assured him. “As long as you know that I’m always here to listen when you’re ready.”

His nod was jerky as he tightened his arms around his middle.

“Would you like to hang out a bit with Josh until your clothes are done?” Abby asked with a friendly smile. “Then he can give you a ride home when you need it.”

“Yes, please,” he answered softly, his troubled hazel eyes on the carpet.

“No problem. Come on.” Abby was smiling as she reached for the door. “Josh is probably ready to knock down the- Oh! Hi, Joshy.” She patted her son’s cheek as she slipped past him in the doorway. “I’m just going to work on the laundry and have some of that coffee. You boys can raid the pantry if you’re hungry.”

She closed her bedroom door behind her with a sigh. If she’d been at work, Abby would have been legally obligated to report what she’d seen and heard. The redhead pulled out her phone and tapped the icon for her camera. Abby had some pictures and notes to take. On Monday, Joshua’s mother would be making some calls. She might not have had a legal obligation, but she had a moral one.

As Abby began looking for blood stains on clothes, Ezra and Josh were snagging chips and twinkies from the kitchen. Joshua was doing most of the grabbing, really. Ezra mostly stood awkwardly in the dining room looking uncomfortable.

“My room’s downstairs,” Josh told him around a mouthful of twinkie.

Ezra covered his mouth to stifle a giggle. Joshua was so carefree and comfortable at home. It was so strange to the younger boy. Ezra would never think of taking food from his kitchen unless it was to make a meal to share with his dad. Junk food was never allowed in the house, especially not anything like twinkies. Ezra thought he’d might have had a twinkie when he was younger. A kid in his class brought them as a birthday treat. Ezra couldn’t remember how it tasted though. He really wanted to try one.

Ezra followed Joshua downstairs. There was a large family room with a little fireplace. A decently sized TV was mounted above it. Slightly worn but comfortable looking chairs and a couch were arranged in a rough half-circle around it. In the back area of the room were a few bookshelves, a desk with a computer on it, and a ping pong table. The pair cut through the room to get to a door on the far wall. An authentic looking street sign with the warning KEEP OUT hung from it.

Ezra’s eyes widened. If he’d tried to hang such a thing on his door at home Ezra’s father would have taken the door off its hinges. Ezra had been taught that a door, especially a closed one, was a privilege not a right. Joshua’s boldness and his parents’ allowance of it shocked the teen.

Josh kicked the clothes scattered onto the floor into a heap by his overflowing closet. Joshua’s mom had been right, it was a mess. Not really dirty, just very unorganized. Ezra shuddered to think of what his father’s response would be if Ezra’s room ever looked like that. The teen’s bed was always made, his clean clothes carefully put away, and his dirty clothes taken to the laundry. Ezra dusted once a week, vacuumed three times a week, and washed his bedding twice a week. Once, Ezra had forgotten to make his bed in the morning. He’d earned a beating and a cross-shaped burn the night before and could hardly sleep from the pain. The teen had overslept and rushed to make it to school on time. The failure had earned him another beating and he’d slept on the cold concrete floor of the laundry room for a week with no blanket or pillow. The punishment had been effective. The mistake hadn’t been repeated.

Joshua flopped on his bed, knocking a few pillows and a sad-looking stuffed dog to the floor, but he didn’t seem to notice. Ezra had to fight the urge to start picking up and cleaning. Instead, he sat on the wobbly rolling chair next to the desk.

Josh tossed Ezra a twinkie. The younger boy almost dropped it, fumbling in the air to keep hold of it. It was slightly squished when he tugged open the plastic wrapper. Ezra’s eyes widened as he took a bite. It was so sugary! The yellow cake seemed determined to stick to the roof of his mouth. Ezra rubbed his palate with his tongue, then took another eager bite.

“Hungry?” Joshua grinned at Ezra. The kid was adorable with a blissful expression and a dab of cream filling on his upper lip.

The teen blushed and nodded, continuing to work on the sweet treat until it was gone. He looked at his sticky fingers, unsure what to do about them.

“Just lick it off, man,” Josh told him with a laugh.

Ezra hesitantly began to clean his fingertips. The teen smiled happily as he caught a bit of cream on the tip of his tongue. Joshua felt his cheeks warm as he turned away from the innocently erotic sight. Damn, the kid was too cute.

Josh rolled over to lay on his belly and peered under his bed. There was plenty of dust, a few shoes, small cardboard boxes, and a lost pair of underwear. There was also a little wooden box, which he pulled out from under a sock. Joshua sat up on his bed with a little sigh and lifted the carved lid.

“So, I know I totally shouldn’t do this with you,” Josh said to Ezra, who’d finished licking his fingers, thank God. “But today was kind of fucked up. It’s making me twitchy. If I have some of this it should keep me from going out to hunt down those dickless bastards who hurt you.”

The college student hopped up and locked his door then opened his window which looked out onto a large fenced in backyard. He turned on a little fan and stuck it in the window, pointing out.

“Anyway, do you smoke up?” Joshua asked as he packed the bowl of a little glass pipe with something out of a small baggy.

“Smoke what?” Ezra asked, bewildered. He knew that wasn’t pipe tobacco. It couldn’t be what it looked like.

“Pot.” Josh cocked his head to the side as he dug a red lighter out of the box. “This stuff’s a real mild buzz. I don’t like to get wasted, just mellowed. I get migraines sometimes and it helps with that, or if I’m stressed out and can’t sleep.”

“You’re going to smoke drugs while your mom’s upstairs?” Ezra asked in a distressed whisper.

“I’d ask her to join us, but I thought it might freak you out,” Joshua said with a shrug. “Besides, she always Bogarts.” Josh’s eyebrows drew together as he looked at Ezra wringing his hands. “I mean, it’s legal and you’re eighteen. I thought it would help us settle down, because if all that freaked me out, I can’t imagine how you feel.” He set down the little pipe. “If you’re not comfortable with it, that’s totally okay. We can just hang out.”

“N-no, it’s okay,” Ezra said uncertainly. “You’re right, it’s legal. And if it’s okay with your mom… And I know she’s a nurse, so…”

“It’s all good.” Joshua tucked the lighter back in box. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or pressured or anything. We can just chill out and play videogames or something.”

Ezra bit his lip. His dad hated drugs and had plenty to say about drug users. But, he’d never mentioned marijuana specifically. Maybe he’d just been talking about illegal drugs like heroin or crack. Ezra knew Deacon Luke drank beer. That was a drug, it was just a legal one. So was caffeine. Paul didn’t seem to mind those things. Pot was just something Ezra wasn’t familiar with. Abby used it, maybe Josh’s dad did, too. Ezra hung his head in shame. He was being a judgmental sanctimonious jerk. If it would help Joshua feel less stressed and keep him from going out and maybe getting himself in trouble, Ezra would be a terrible person if he stopped him just because it wasn’t something he was used to.

“No, really, it’s fine,” Ezra said with resolve. “It was just unexpected. You go ahead, I really don’t mind.”

“You sure?” Joshua asked. “It’s seriously fine if we just hang.”

Ezra shook his head firmly. “It was a messed up day. I wasn’t thinking.” The teen waved his hands as if to shoo the pipe back into Joshua’s hand. “Please, go ahead.”

Josh still looked uncertain, but he finally picked up the lighter and pipe. The flame licked over the fragments of mossy green bud, sparking it orange as Joshua drew in the pungent smoke. When he had a good hit, he held his breath, holding the flat of the lighter over the bowl to put out any remaining embers and avoid wasting the bud. Ezra watched in fascination as Joshua continued to hold in the smoke, finally releasing it into the whirring blades of the fan, which sucked the grey foggy tendrils into the air of the backyard.

“Did you want some?” Josh asked, lifting the pipe in his direction.

Ezra blinked, unsure what to do. He thought of his father. Paul usually never drank alcohol, but sometimes Deacon Luke would bring over beer when he visited. Ezra’s dad would always take at least one, when Luke offered. Paul told Ezra that it would be impolite and might make Luke feel bad if he didn’t. Paul believed that alcohol in moderation was acceptable, especially when a guest brought it to share. Ezra had also seen his dad drink a small glass of wine a few times, when Deacon Luke had brought a bottle to have with supper.

Marijuana was legal, just like alcohol. Ezra didn’t have any experience with it, but if it wasn’t illegal, it must be alright in moderation.

“Yes, please,” Ezra said politely, joining Joshua at the window.

The teen took the little glass pipe from Josh. It was unexpectedly pretty, with swirls of blue and purple twining through the glass. Ezra could feel a small circular opening along the side of the plump round bowl. He had no idea what the hole was for, or really how to use the pipe at all. Did he just hold the flame over the weed and suck? Did he need to draw hard? Was he supposed to leave the little hole uncovered?

“I don’t…” Ezra flushed with embarrassment. “I’m not sure how to do this…”

“Never use a pipe with a carb before?” Joshua asked kindly.

Ezra just shook his head.

“This one’s a little tricky anyway,” the older boy explained. “It draws ash if you pull too hard. I should get a new one, but I always liked the design on this one and I’m too lazy to hunt down a better one. Here.” Josh took the little pipe back. “I’ll just shotgun you a couple of times and we both should be good, yeah?”

Ezra didn’t want to look completely ignorant of whatever the college student was talking about, so he agreed. He hoped whatever shotgun was, it was a better thing than it sounded.

“Cool.” Joshua held the pipe in front of him, lighter ready. “Just blow the smoke into the fan when you exhale.”

Josh took another careful hit from the pipe, setting it on the windowsill when he had a decent hit. Joshua pulled Ezra close, pressing their lips together. Ezra’s eyes widened, mouth opening to ask the older boy what he was doing.As soon as Ezra’s lips parted, Josh exhaled, pushing air and smoke into the confused teen. A stunned look painted Ezra’s face as Joshua pulled away with a smile.

Ezra held his breath as he’d seen Josh do, his mind rolling chaotically at the memory of Josh’s mouth on his. His lips tingled pleasantly from the contact and a strange warmth pooled low in his belly. As he breathed out a little gray cloud into the fan, Joshua was already drawing another hit for them.

Ezra knew he should stop Josh from doing it again. It was just like kissing, kissing another guy. It should have been horrible and disgusting. Even as self-loathing pulled at his mind, he leaned forward to meet Joshua’s lips, closing his eyes as he inhaled the strange smoke. Their mouths stayed together much longer than was needed for the shotgun, Josh only pulling away when he was forced to come up for air. Ezra kept his lids closed as he held his breath. When he blew out, his mind swirled like the smoke sucked into the fan. A confusing mix of elation, fear, arousal, and surprise filled him. He opened his eyes to see Joshua putting the pipe and lighter back in the box.

“You good?” he asked.

Ezra nodded slowly, face burning.

“Awesome.” Josh stood and tucked the little box back under his bed. “You can stretch out on the bed, too. I can’t imagine that crappy chair is good for your butt.”

It hadn’t been. The seat had seemed to push on all the worst scrapes on his behind.

“Thank you,” Ezra sad quietly as he sat gingerly on the edge of the mattress.

“Oh, hey, check this out.” Joshua grinned as he pushed Ezra back onto the bed until he was laying down, the older boy over him. Ezra’s heart was hammering as he looked up at Joshua, hazel eyes taking in the strangely appealing piercings and his unique blue-green eyes.

The teen let out a shaky breath as Josh straightened and pulled the shades then flicked the light off, dropping the room into darkness. Ezra let out a surprised squeak as Joshua dropped to the bed beside him.

“Look,” Josh whispered, his dark form pointing a hand upward.

Ezra shifted his gaze up and gasped in delight. A glittering galaxy was splashed across Joshua’s ceiling. It was amazing. Little planets, stars, and even comets were shining down on him in glowing shades of green, blue, and orange.

“Wow,” Ezra whispered reverently.

“Thanks, man.” Joshua grinned up at the little glowing spots and streaks. “It started with those little stickers, you know? But they kept falling off, so Dad and Mom just got me this special glow-in-the-dark paint. It didn’t work great though.” Josh laughed as he reached up as though he could touch the little stars. “Then, it became some weird thing that whenever they saw glow-paint, they pick some up for me. I just kept adding shit, and they finally found some stuff that actually works pretty well.” Josh’s arms dropped back to the bed. “It’s awesome when you’re high or trying to fall asleep.”

Ezra blinked up at the little lights. It felt like he could see every little detail of each drop of shining paint. His body felt pleasant and floaty, the pain leaking out of him. The teen wondered if this was what being high was supposed to feel like. If so, he was kind of a fan. It made him smile as his mind seemed to loosen and unspool, his tension and worries becoming less dominating. The stars… They were what was important. The stars and the feeling of Joshua’s warmth next to him.

“So, hey, can I talk to you about something?” Josh rolled onto his side and propped his arm up to rest his cheek on his hand.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Ezra copied Joshua’s position. It made the teen’s stomach do a little flip. It felt so intimate. They were so close, face-to-face.

“Did you know I’m gay?” Joshua asked plainly.

“Wh-what?”

“I’m gay.” Josh looked at him seriously.

“Please, don’t make fun of me…” Ezra rolled onto his back again, trying to find tranquility in the stars, once more.

“Hey,” Joshua rested a hand on Ezra’s shoulder. “I’m not shitting you. I really am gay. I figured you knew, what with the whole research project.”

Ezra shook his head. This wasn’t right. Josh was a good person. He couldn’t be a fag.

“That whole thing with those guys was bullshit, whether you really are gay or not,” Joshua told him. “I just wanted to make sure that you knew that I think it’s cool that you’re gay. I mean, if you are. If you aren’t then I’ll just be shutting up now.”

Silence stretched between them until Joshua was about to break and apologize for bringing it up. He didn’t get the chance.

“I am… Gay I mean…” Ezra whispered his confession. “I’m sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry for?” Josh’s eyebrows scrunched together.

“I know it’s… it’s bad.” The teen let out a shaky breath. “I just don’t know how to make it stop.”

“You can’t just make it stop,” Joshua said in confusion. “It’s a part of who you are. It’s wired into your brain.”

Ezra’s heart sank.

“How do you do it, then?” the teen asked weakly. “How do you keep it away?”

“I don’t.” Josh shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong with being gay, straight, bi, asexual, or whatever; as long as you’re doing shit consensually.”

“Does your dad know?” Ezra asked in horror.

“Yeah, dude, of course my dad knows.” The college student rolled his eyes. “I came out when I was like twelve. Now, he keeps trying to set me up with anyone he meets who’s gay and within two or three years of my age. He looks like a kicked puppy every time I tell him no.” Josh gave Ezra’s shoulder a little squeeze. “My mom knows, too. And my sister. They’re all cool with it. It’s not a big deal.”

“But how… What do you do about the men you… the ones you tempt?” The teen hugged his stomach with both arms.

“What like guys I’m not interested in, who hit on me?” The older boy looked thoughtful. “I guess I try to brush them off politely. If they don’t take the hint, I tell them to fuck off not so politely.”

“That works?” Ezra’s gaze snapped to Joshua, shock widening the teen’s eyes.

“Well, yeah. I mean…” Josh frowned and peered at Ezra in the dim light. “Is somebody fucking with you, Ez?”

“What do you mean?” The teen’s heart gave a frightened thump.

“I mean, like if you say ‘no, thank you,’ and they just act like you said ‘yes, please,’” Josh clarified. “Like you don’t want them to kiss you or touch you in a sexual way, but they act like you want it anyway and they do what they want.”

“Stop whining like a little bitch,” Luke growled. “Think you can tell me no? You know you want it. Fucking, cock-tease.”

“What do you do about those people?” Ezra asked desperately. “How do you make them stop? How do you stop making them do things to you?”

“Making them… Dude, if somebody is fucking touching you when you say no, that’s fucking assault.” Joshua’s pale eyes seemed to glow with anger in the dim room. “And that’s never your fault. You can’t blame the victim. I don’t care what the situation is, no is no.”

Joshua tugged Ezra into his arms, his heart aching with worry. The teen snuggled close, burying his face in the older boy’s chest as their legs tangled together. It felt warm and safe. Josh was so careful with him. He didn’t even squeeze Ezra too tight.

“Tell me who it is.” Josh tipped Ezra’s chin up, their faces so close they were nearly touching. Careful fingers stroked through Ezra’s hair, making his whole body tingle. “Tell me who’s fucking with you.”

The teen blinked twice and leaned forward that last inch, catching Joshua’s mouth with his own. Josh groaned, holding Ezra even closer until their bodies pressed tightly together. Each could quickly feel that the other was happy to be there. Their tongues tangled, breaths puffing hot and fast. They finally came up for air, foreheads pressing together, hazel and blue-green gazes locked.

“Please,” Joshua whispered. “Tell me the name.”

“Luke,” Ezra said so softly Josh hardly heard him.

“Luke?” Josh asked.

Ezra pulled back like someone had thrown ice water on him. His eyes widened, horrified at what had slipped out of his mouth. The teen jerked up, nearly falling off the bed.

“I have to go.” Ezra stood and paced to the door and back to the bed.

“Ez, wait…” Joshua sat up.

“I have to go!” Ezra yanked at his dark locks.

The peaceful feeling was gone. What had he done? Never tell. It was rule number one. Terrible things would happen if he tried to tell. If Deacon Luke found out…

Ezra burst out of Joshua’s room. The sign on the door clanged as Josh called his name. Abby stuck her head out of a doorway, surprise and concern on her face.

“Ezra, honey, what’s wrong?” she asked with worry.

“I-I need to go home.” The teen wrung his shaking hands. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Abby soothed. “We’ll get you home. But I just put your clothes in the drier. They’re still wet.”

“I don’t care.” Ezra shook his head emphatically. “I’ll take them now. I can wear them wet. I just… Please.”

“Okay, honey.” The woman sounded like she was trying to calm a frightened animal. “You can just wear what you have on. I’ll get your clothes in a bag.” Her eyes shifted to her son. “Josh, please loan Ezra some clean socks.”

“Yeah, I… I’ll be right back,” Joshua stammered.

In minutes, Ezra was back in Josh’s little car. A piece of paper with Abby’s phone number in one hand and his other arm hugging a plastic bag full of cold damp clothes.

“Ez…” Joshua started.

“Please,” Ezra whispered. “Just take me home.”