“What do you mean, 'what the hell'?” Steve asked. Devon blinked twice at him, then moved his arm so suddenly it caused Steve to flinch.
“I mean this,” Devon said, motioning to Steve. “You're acting weird.”
“No, I'm not acting weird at all,” Steve unconvincingly replied, still recovering from Devon's swinging arm.
“Yeah, OK,” Devon said, and he went back to eating his lunch. Steve continued to gawk at Devon, an action which Devon tried his hardest to ignore. Just as he was on the brink of cracking, Steve muttered something.
“I just heard something about you, is all.” Devon dropped the fork he was holding onto his tray, and exaggeratedly turned to Steve.
“What did you hear?” he demanded. Steve waited a few seconds before shrugging and rolling his eyes in an obvious manner. Devon leaned forward and angered his face up a bit to show Steve that he was serious. “What did you hear?”
Steve looked at him with slight concern, and even tipped backwards a little. “Well, I mean it wasn't anything bad about you.” Devon tensed his jaw, impatient for a real answer. “But someone did say something about your sister.”
Devon shot a cruel look at Jonathan, who was nowhere near paying attention. Devon cleared his throat. Nothing. He cleared his throat again. Still nothing. He repeated a few more times, progressively growing louder, until finally Jonathan's head sprung up.
“What?” Jonathan innocently asked.
“You didn't tell anyone about Kirsten, did you?”
Jonathan furrowed his eyebrows and replied, “No, why would I tell anyone about Kirsten?” Devon hopelessly sighed and turned back to Steve. Steve shook his head at Devon.
“I don't remember who was talking about it, but they said she's...” Steve lowered his voice and whispered, “you know, pregnant. Is that true?”
“Why is it any of your business?” Devon snapped, and Steve's jaw dropped.
“It is true!” he gasped, and turned his head to the boy sitting next to Jonathan. “Crack, you were right.”
“I know,” Crack replied, as if Steve's suggestion that he may have been wrong was completely and utterly insane. “Did you think I was lying?”
“No,” Steve said, “I just didn't think his sister was slutty enough to get knocked up.” Steve quickly turned to Devon, who's face was already scarlet with anger. “What is she, anyway, ten?”
“She's thirteen,” Devon hissed through clenched teeth. “Why does everyone think she's ten?! And,” he spat, “she's not a slut, OK? She's just... I don't know, but she's not a slut.”
“OK, sor-”
“No, it's not OK,” Devon interrupted, and he shoved a finger into Steve's chest. “Don't you ever talk that way about my sister.”
“Devon, I'm sorry,” Steve said, and a tiny crack in his voice showed that he was honestly frightened. He glanced around, as several boys from surrounding tables were beginning to peer over at them. “Maybe calm down a bit, yeah?”
Devon sat back in his seat and tried to cool off. Jonathan was staring at him worriedly; as of late, Devon's anger had become quite a problem. It was subtle most of the time, but it had been steadily getting worse since Devon flipped out on Chris.
Jonathan opened his mouth to say something, but before the words could leave his mouth, someone who was bustling up to their table shouted, “Devon!” Devon turned to find Mason walking towards him. Mason wiggled his fingers at Devon, and Devon narrowed his eyes. “Hey!”
“What do you want, Helsby?” Devon jeered. Mason smugly lifted the corners of his mouth and leaned his elbows onto the table.
“Do you remember that girl?” he quietly asked. “The one who my parents introduced to us?”
“That Italian girl?” Mason nodded, and Devon reluctantly continued, “What about her?” Mason didn't answer, though, he merely raised one eyebrow. Devon threw him a look of confusion, but soon enough he found an answer. “No way.”
“Oh yeah,” Mason laughed.
“You're lying.”
“Well,” Mason said, rolling his eyes, “maybe she didn't go as far as, say, your sister... but I got a lot farther than Chris did.”
Wanting to control his temper, Devon ignored the horribly unfair shot at his sister, and asked, “Chris was with her?” At this, Jonathan, though he had already been listening, opened his ears even more intently.
“Yeah, she was actually his date to my parents' party the other night. She wasn't having a good time, though, so I took over.” Mason grabbed the front of his blazer with both hands and held on pompously. “Let's just say that I'm,” Mason switched to what he thought sounded like a seductive woman's voice, “more man than Chris could ever be.”
Devon chuckled, even though Mason had begun to make awkward moaning sounds. “Did you tell Chris that? I'm sure he'd love it.”
“Eh, he didn't really seem all that interested in her,” Mason shrugged. “Plus, after I graciously pulled Emilia away from him, he ran off with Marina.”
“Do you think that was a good idea? I mean, he's got quite a reputation.” Mason chortled at Devon's statement, even though Devon was being quite serious. Devon just quickly looked over at Chris and shuddered. “He makes me sick, you know that?”
“Hey, man, there's no way all those rumors are true,” Mason said. “I don't think there are that many girls who would want to be near him long enough. And that's saying something, because he probably doesn't take that long at all.”
Mason threw back his head again, and this time Devon actually joined in, so the chortling became more of a howling that spread to the far corners of the cafeteria. Jonathan ached for the ability to say something, anything, to defend Chris, but he was forced to keep his mouth shut. Or, at least, he tried to keep his mouth shut.
“I thought you were his friend,” Jonathan quietly said. Mason spun to Jonathan, quite surprised, as he hadn't realized Jonathan's presence.
“Chris and I are... acquaintances, you could say,” Mason replied. “But we've never been friends.”
“Oh,” Jonathan replied, defeated, and he dropped out of the conversation there. Mason turned back to Devon, who, for a moment, was giving Jonathan a funny look.
“Anyway,” Mason said to Devon, “you're just jealous because you wish you'd even seen as many girls as that kid has apparently slept with.” Devon lifted his eyebrows as if to say that Mason had a point. Mason gave an odd sort of grunt, then left without saying another word. Devon didn't return to giving Jonathan the odd look he had given him before, but Jonathan knew that he had gone a bit too far. He couldn't help it though, and he certainly couldn't believe what he had just heard. Chris had told him the last time that he had to take a girl out, so why hadn't he mentioned anything this time?
Jonathan decided that the best way to find out would be to ask Chris directly, so that's exactly what he did. It was about twenty minutes after school had let out before they finally met at the old building. Chris was more chipper and upbeat than he usually was, it seemed, which was definitely a contrast to Jonathan's quiet and pensive state.
“Jonathan, did you know that no one's been in this building in 40 years?” Chris inquired. He was facing Jonathan, his hand resting on the side of the building and his legs folded beneath him. “Apparently they... What's wrong?”
“What do you mean?” Jonathan asked, looking up at Chris. Chris was dozily looking back at him, his bright blue eyes half-closed at the other boy.
“I mean, you're very quiet today and you look awfully sad,” Chris replied, reaching over and grabbing Jonathan's hand. “Why do you look so sad, Jonathan?”
“Oh. You didn't tell me you had a date the other night.” Jonathan looked down at his and Chris's intertwined fingers. “Were you planning to tell me?”
“No,” Chris honestly replied, though he sounded hesitant to do so. “I didn't think you'd want to hear it.”
“I guess you were right,” Jonathan sighed. Chris turned and stretched out his legs.
“Would you like to be informed next time?” Jonathan shrugged, but Chris could see the despair past the seeming indifference. With his free hand, he held on to the side of Jonathan's face by his ear, and pulled Jonathan towards him as he said, “Jonathan, all of these girls... they're trivial, you know that?”
“They are?” Jonathan replied, moderately reluctant to believe Chris.
“Jonathan, I swear to you, I will never want any girl as much as I want you.” Jonathan could feel his brain being slowly hypnotized by the blue eyes, through which a sudden fear quickly flashed, then soon vanished. “That's good enough, yeah? My word is good enough?”
Jonathan allowed himself to stare for a moment longer before quietly answering, “Yeah.”
“Good,” Chris hummed, gently stroking his thumb against Jonathan's cheek, “because I would hate for you to be too jealous to love me.”
Jonathan lightly laughed as he said, “That's such a ridiculous thing for you to say.”
“Why is it ridiculous?”
“I would only be jealous if I loved you.”
“Of course.” Chris grinned a cheesy smile and kissed Jonathan. He slowly brought his hand down to rest on Jonathan's shoulder. When his lips broke away, he seemed to sink into himself. “How long can we be together today, Jon?” Chris asked, staring down at his fidgeting hands.
“I don't think my mum will care when I get back, if she even notices I'm not there.” Chris curved his eyes up to Jonathan, trying to suppress the stock of passion waiting to burst from his heart and bleed all over the other boy. Despite his nervousness, he smiled, because he really couldn't think of anyone he'd rather be spending his time with.
“I love you, Jon,” Chris breathed with so much life that Jonathan was slightly bewildered. Part of it was that he seemed to say it so suddenly, but the honesty behind it was unmistakable.
“I love you, too,” Jonathan smiled back, and Chris slid over until he and Jonathan were squished together.
“I hated that party, by the way,” Chris mentioned. “The Helsby one. It was awful.”
“That Mason kid stole your date?” Jonathan laughed, and Chris nodded.
“Yeah... at least I didn't have sex with anyone this time.” Chris ran a hand over his forehead and through his hair, and he suddenly felt like he was going to vomit. He kept his head down, and within a few moments he felt Jonathan's hand on his back. What a sweet boy.
It took a few minutes, but Chris finally overcame his uneasiness. He took a deep breath and looked up at Jonathan, tentatively bringing himself back into the moment. Jonathan gave a tiny smile and took his hand back.
“What was it like... having sex with a girl?” Jonathan inquired, and Chris felt his anxiety rush back.
“Jon!”
“Right,” Jonathan shook his head, “sorry. Sorry, I just.. it's kinda hard, I guess, going to an all boys school... but at least I've got you.”
“Yeah,” Chris said, with only a hint of fluster, “we've got each other.” Chris boldly moved his hand, letting it rest on Jonathan's thigh. He watched a quick, sharp intake of oxygen pass into Jonathan's lungs, and for a second he was worried that it had been the wrong thing to do. But Jonathan didn't do or say anything, so Chris's hand laid awkwardly for a while. “Oh, fuck it,” he eventually exclaimed, and, letting his emotions take over, he lifted himself off the ground, swung his leg over Jonathan's, and kissed him hard on the mouth. Jonathan hadn't expected this, so at first he was a bit shocked, but soon he gave in and went along with Chris's audacity.
While his mouth was busy consuming Jonathan's, Chris's hands ran wildly over the other boy's torso. Jonathan wasn't sure that Chris was ever going to stop, not that he minded entirely. But eventually Chris did stop, quite abruptly, and he slowly backed away from Jonathan.
“I don't think we should go any farther than that,” Chris said, and he sounded frightened like a child in the dark.
“That's fine,” Jonathan gawkily replied. “I wasn't really expecting us to.”
Chris brought his knees to his chest and stared at Jonathan. His blue eyes pierced through Jonathan as he thought, pondering their relationship. “Jon, we don't really know much about each other, do we?”
Jonathan sat silent for a moment, then replied, “You said you have an older brother?”
“I have two older brothers, actually. They're both off on their own now... married... children...” Chris flinched as his voice trailed away, leaving Jonathan to fill in the emptiness.
“Oh. I'm an only child.”
Chris halfheartedly smiled and said, “Lucky you. Uh,” his voice shrilled, and he stood up and dusted his hands nervously. “I think my mom is probably expecting me home for dinner soon, so...”
“You're leaving, then?” Jonathan pushed himself off the ground. He was worried; Chris was acting really strange, and almost distant. Chris absentmindedly nodded, then wrapped his arms around Jonathan. He was overcome with a rush of emotion that was in no way new to him, yet it completely overwhelmed him.
“Oh, God.”
“What?” Jonathan looked at Chris alertly. Chris simply averted his eyes and shook his head.
“It's nothing. Bye, Jon.” With that, Chris walked away. Jonathan stayed behind for about ten minutes, only because he didn't feel like going home. There was no other reason for him to wait; no one would have been around to notice Chris and Jonathan leaving at the same time.
A whole week had passed since his father's death, and Jonathan felt like any progress made between he and his mother had been diminished. This time, though, it was Penny who was hiding. He had only seen her a total of two or three times since the accident, and that was including the funeral. He wasn't exactly sure, but he guessed that she was usually locked up in the bedroom she and Randall had shared. That's probably where Jonathan had gotten it from.
Oddly enough, Jonathan found it much more therapeutic to roam around the house rather than sit in his room. He had never really noticed how big their house was; in fact, it seemed like everyday he discovered a room he had never known existed before. It was quiet, too, which may have seemed eerie to anyone else, but to Jonathan it was normal and comforting. At times he wondered if he even missed Randall and all of his boisterousness.
He did. It was weird to admit, even to himself, but Randall was as much a part of him as anything else. He certainly never liked his hair, but if he suddenly went bald, he'd miss it. Plus, Randall was gone, but nothing else had changed. His life wasn't really that much better than it had been.
On the way home, Jonathan, as usual, walked past Devon's house. Kirsten was sitting on the front steps, staring out into the street. Jonathan stopped to greet her, though he remained standing on the sidewalk.
“Hey, Kirsten.” Kirsten snapped out of whatever trance she'd been in, and flicked her head towards Jonathan.
“Jonathan! Hi.” She seemed cheery, but there was a sorrowful quality in her tone.
Jonathan squinted his eyes and asked, “Are you crying?” Kirsten gasped a little, and self-consciously wiped her cheeks.
“Oh, you know. Just hormonal, I guess.” Jonathan decided to walk over to her, and sat down beside her. “I should probably get used to it, seeing as I've got nine more months of this to go through.” Kirsten studied Jonathan's face briefly, then said, “You look concerned.” Jonathan gave a small laugh.
“Do I?” Kirsten tapered her eyes and observed him again.
“Yeah. Even when you're laughing.” Then, quickly, her face fell into sympathy. “I'm sorry to hear about your father. That's horrible.”
“Thank you. To be honest, though, he kinda did it to himself. The drinking...”
“Still,” Kirsten said, “I imagine it's not easy to deal with.” She waited a long moment before continuing, “Hey, you didn't happen to pass by Devon, did you?”
“No, why?”
“He kinda stormed off earlier. I was hoping maybe he hadn't gone too far.” Kirsten messed with the hem of her skirt, then looked up and gave Jonathan a fake smile. “It's no big deal, though, he'll be fine.”
“He stormed off?” Jonathan asked, and became consciously aware of his concerned look.
“Yeah, he was upset about... something, I don't know.” Kirsten stared at the grassy lawn before her, and her eyes started to water a little. Jonathan suddenly felt a tension in the air, and it made him shift uncomfortably.
“Kirsten, it was nice seeing you, but I should be going now.” Jonathan hopped off the steps and began to walk away. “If I see Devon, I'll tell him to come home.”
“Thank you,” she replied, her voice terribly shaky. “Goodbye, Jonathan.” Jonathan gave her a small salute, which he realized shortly after must have looked completely ridiculous. He didn't care, though, because by that point she was already far enough behind him that it didn't matter anymore.
