Ch.11 Stop

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height

It is driving him insane.

The trembling figure in front of seems so small and powerless. This isn't the Sage he knew. It isn't the boy who gathered confidence with his presence in the halls. It isn't the boy with a soft smile, the boy who captured his heart. It isn't the boy who he thought would finally be the one who loves him. 

But they had the same eyes. The same face. The same dot behind the ears. It's as if someone replaced a shattered mug with a replica, but the emotional attachment, gone. 

Zach looks at him with pity, and a feeling tumults in his stomach. He doesn't know to cry, puke, or run away. "I told you to stop," is what he finally says.

The AC overhead rumbles, monotonous and incessant. Between soiled sheets and skin, two hearts cannot connect. 

Sage feels so powerless. Perhaps the first time in years. Learned helplessness that was forgotten and now remembered. By surrendering himself to Zach, he returned to that powerless state. 

He reminded himself of the goldfish his father bought for him, only to be flushed down the toilet when his father no longer wanted it. It had not gone down smoothly. Within the swirls of water, the fish jumped out, struggling and writhing on the tile floors of the bathroom, the sound of its nimble body until it even died. His father then picked it by the tail and flung it into the trash. Looking at the fish carcass, the ten-year-old Sage wondered when he would be abandoned like that. 

Now, Sage trembles on the sheets and glances at Zach, wanting something, anything of affection of longing.

Zach will not touch him.

--

When Zach looks across the halls, the person who stands is alien. To think just a weekend ago, his heart would have leaped and expanded like a balloon with joy. Now, there is nothing but a sudden chill up his spine and the vestige of past emotions in the extremities of his body.

How could he act like had nothing happened? How he smiles, surrounded by a small crowd as always. You wouldn't be able to tell. It almost makes Zach wonder if this was all his imagination, that Sage had never touched him, loved him to begin with. But he can still feel that night. 

Zach almost screams when there is a sudden hand on his shoulder. He freezes in place, too afraid to turn around. Until a familiar voice sounds.

"There you are!" Jason smiles sympathetically before it trails off. "What's the matter..."

"Don't touch me." Voice a whisper.

"What?"

"I SAID DON'T TOUCH ME," Zach yells.

The halls grow quiet. People turn. Sage turns, and in his expression, there is something like pity, something like sorrow. 

Zach runs.

--

The occasional car passes by in the narrow lane. Zach walks along the sidewalk, his shoes scraping against the pavement. His phone rings, but he ignores them. Not right now. 

I will get into so much trouble, he thinks. Yes, their school probably won't let him get away this easily with skipping problems. Suspension? Maybe. Expulsion? Probably not. The school needs his family's money and fame. Both his father and his grandfather went to school, so he won't be ridden of so easily.

How will he explain it to his father? He can already imagine his worried expression. His brothers might lecture him if they come home this weekend. 

Dad, I'm gay, he imagines saying. No, that would never work. Or rather, Zach isn't ready. 

Then what else? 

Eventually, he walks by a floral shop. He stops in his tracks and after a moment of hesitation, enters. 

--

The sun hangs low on the horizon. Zach pushes the rusted gate open with one hand and a bouquet of hyacinths in the other. It is quiet here. 

He steps down the path, grass crinkle under his feet until he reaches a plain white tombstone. Ashley Pearson is etched across the surface in grey.

"Hi, mom," he whispers, setting the bouquet down. "I'm here to see you. I brought hyacinths again.

"I miss you so so much. I'm doing my best in school. Recently, I've also been nominated as the team captain. Isn't that great?" his voice cracks. "Mom, I really don't know what to do next. Sage, he looked so hurt and scared...I don't know if I can help him. If I want to help him. I'm so lost, and I don't know what to do next."

The winds blows in his silence, ruffling the hyacinths. Zach wipes at his eyes and stands up, preparing to leave. 

When he reaches the gate, he sees his father's car pulling over at the entrance. 

You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net