Fiction_Online

Blissful Living

By NOP

You all know it, you all love it. Two boys growing up in a different way.
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*DISCLAIMER*
Warning contains gay content, if you don't like it don't read it. If you do like it, review it(sign the guestbook/forum).

Chapter 10

Early morning whistling. High pitched frequencies of every wavering annoyance, destroying some song I don't know. And yet, I dare not speak. If I burst forth from my hallowed cave of slumber, the day begins. So instead I watch the clock, waiting, counting down the minutes to his departure. I eagerly sit infront of the glowing numbers and mutter with each change. He's calling up the stairs, saying good bye, but I don't want to encourage him, he's leaving ten minutes early.

Amazingly enough, I had the whole house to myself, access to anything and everything, but I helplessly stared around the kitchen, in my boxers, not knowing what to do. Staying home when your sick is a treat only because you feel like doing nothing but lying around and watching bad day time television. Staying home because you're suspended is horrible. There's nothing to do but lay around and watch day time television, but there are other things you would rather take part in.

House work, you would think there would be a lot of work to do in a house that's kept by two guys with no help from anyone else; but we seem to do everything as we go along. I only had vacuuming and mopping to keep me occupied for barely three hours. Dusting? No, nothing to dust. We weren't much into collecting items. I did water the plants and clean their leaves. The least I can do for my life's oxygen.

I eyed the clock, twelve fourth five, everyone else is at lunch. As if by some intuitive nature the phone rang. I eagerly answered it, ready with catchy phrases for the annoying salesmen. Oddly, it wasn't a salesmen, or even a foreign person asking surveys for housewives, which were usual callers. It was much better than that.

"Oh, I didn't know you would be home, I just wanted to leave a message."

"Yeah, well I am." I smiled, running into the living room and jumping into a crouched position on the couch, "So tell me this message."

"I was just calling, wait.... why are you home?"

"Suspended. Why are you home?" I retorted.

"For what?"

"Fighting."

"When did they start writing us up?" he used victim and us interchangeably.

"When I broke the kid's nose."

"Who's?" He eagerly asked.

"A Scott, I don't know which one." The Scotts were three brothers, two twins and one a year older (the twins being the same age as us).

"Wow. I didn't think you had it in you. What did your dad say?"

"He was cool about it." I smiled into the receiver, "Why are you home?"

"Oh....I um....broke my foot, and ah.... had to stay home."

"What's this?"

"I fractured those little bones in my foot and I had to get pins put in."

"How'd you do that?"

"Jumping into the river from thirty feet up."

"You're a smart one."

"Yeah, I know."

"Does it hurt?"

"No... they gave me the good stuff. It's apart of the codeine family, I do believe."

"Pulling out all the stops." I laughed a little, "So... who were you swimming with?"

"Just some girls."

"Oh, yeah...just some girls." I mocked his laidback tone.

"You're not jealous are you?" he laughed.

"You better not be having relations with any girls down there."

"You're jealous."

"You're insane."

"Look, just because I hang out with four gorgeous, southern, bells doesn't mean I'm hiking up their skirts."

"Gorgeous?"

He laughed, heartily, on the other end, "Yeah, gorgeous, like playboy bunnies."

"Since when do you look at that."

"Just be quiet," He sighed, "I'm only joking, but they are quite stunning creatures."

"You're mean."

"And you're fun to tease."

"I miss you.... a little."

"Good."

"Can you come up for Thanksgiving?"

"Maybe...I don't know these people are very into family."

"Can I go down there?"

"What about your dad?"

"He deserves eating alone, he's the one that made it that way."

"You shouldn't talk about your dad that way. He screwed up, and he's paying for it, you don't have to shove it in his face."

"My mom's moving to Italy, with a man I've never met."

"I'm sorry." He whispered, "That's rough."

"Can we not talk about this?" I asked, a little exasperated.

"Sure."

"So tell me about your gorgeous girls."

"Amber, Jessica, Tiffany, and Jody are all our age, and they hang out with me."

"Do they know about...us?"

"No... well...kind of, but not really."

"Explain."

"They know that I have someone back home, that I call all the time, that helped me through a really tough time."

"That's all they know?"

"They know about you, in the hospital, and when I got beat up, and that you keep me alive every time it counts."

"So they know about... um the wrists?"

"Everyone does." He mumbled, "They don't allow jewelry, of any kind."

"What kind of school is this?"

"A Christian Academy." He grumbled.

"I'm sorry."

"And church three days a week, and family diners, and people going on missions, and all sorts of wonderfully hypocritical feelings."

"That bad?"

"I guess it's what it is."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about your foot."

"It's okay, just broken bones."

"Hear anything from your tattoo lady about Denver?"

"When are you thinking?"

"Spring break, if not Thanksgiving."

"I don't know if we'll be on the same days."

"I'm willing to take two weeks off."

"I won't let you, you'll lose some points on your GPA."

"Eh... doesn't matter, really."

"It would be nice to have you for two weeks."

"I know."

"I can't tell you how much I miss the way you look at me when you laugh." I smiled, my chest feeling heavy, "And how you try not to bite your fingers. And how you can always make me feel better when I'm sad."

"If you keep going, there's going to be nothing I can do about that."

"I miss talking."

"What do you think we're doing?"

"No, we're catching up, I miss the way we use to argue about stupid stuff, and talk about the movies we see, and the stupid books we have to read in English. I don't have anyone else to talk to."

"You're not making this easy."

"It wasn't ever going to be."

"I'll look into Thanksgiving."

"I hope so, fell better." I managed to smile and sound cheerful, even though the conversation was drawing to an end.

Tim came along after school, bearing great gifts of missed work in my classes. I couldn't help but beam despite the load. He was startled at first to find me so happy, it being a rarity in Robbie's absence. He was wondering what was wrong with me, not that it was bad for me to have some joy in my life.

"You didn't find someone did you?"

"No... Robbie called."

"Just now?" He smiled.

"A few hours ago."

"Is he's suspended too?" He joked.

"No, broke his foot and had to have pins in." he grimaced at my nonchalant tone. "He's on the good drugs I guess." I shrugged.

"So... can he come up for Thanksgiving?"

"He doesn't know." My inflated bubble of joy was diminishing.

"I hope he can. Darlene and I are going to go bowling tonight, if you want to come."

"Thanks, but... ya know, I hate to be the third wheel."

"Don't be like that, I bet Rabbit will come."

"If Rabbit comes along, I just don't want to cramp your style."

"You're my friend, you won't."

"Yeah, I guess."

Bowling... an ancient battle that can divide couples, make enemies of friends, and kill three hours of sorrow. I didn't predict that the maybe Rabbit will come would turn into a seven person parade into the local alley. Darlene's cousins were in town, which was a good break for me from all the looks I had been getting from my friends. The four of them, John (18), Margaret (17), Derek (12), and Fred (11), were perfectly nice, argumentative siblings that distracted me greatly from my troubles. However, in the middle of the 6th frame of the second game, the Scotts sauntered in to the arcade area. I ducked down in my plastic chair and put my hand between us.

"What's wrong with you?" Margaret asked me, "It's your turn." she urged me to stand.

"Can someone take this turn for me?"

"What's up bud?" Darlene asked.

"Brothers o' Scott." I tilted my head in their direction.

"Oh." Tim eyed them for a second, "Why don't you go Fred?"

"I just went."

"Well, here's your chance to actually hit the pins." Margaret teased.

"What's this?" John asked, "You're not a fag are you?"

"Some boys over there generally give us a bad time, until our little, "fag" here broke one of their noses."

"Well then what are you afraid of?" he antagonized.

"There were only two last time." I slunk down into my seat and watched Fred's gutter ball roll slowly down. It seemed the crisis was adverted as long as I gave Fred my turn.

"Hey rat!" They called tau