Our Colors (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Eleven

I slammed my locker closed, my hair still damp from the shower I had just taken. Tyson was beside me but we hadn't spoken much since he outed to us at the ice-cream shop. It wasn't that I didn't want to talk to him I just didn't know what to say. He was still the same old asshole that constantly annoyed the shit out of me but we just never kept anything from each other until this. I know this isn't about me and I sorta felt like shit that our friendship felt strained over the last few days but I did feel a type of way about it. We promised not to keep anything from each other after what happened when we were little.

"Jackson!" The sound of light footsteps came barreling down my driveway. I paused, hunched over about to dribble the basketball when I heard the voice and instead I tucked it under my arm turning around with an excited smile. I was expecting to see the same smiling face looking back at me but instead what I saw made my arm grip loosen on the ball as it dropped, bouncing a few times by my feet before rolling down the driveway slowly in his direction.

The sound of my heavy heartbeat rang in my ears at the sudden panic that I couldn't decipher in the moment. Tyson and I had just started the fourth grade both of us being nine years old entering. I had expected to see the dark skin boy with that cocky sly grin on his face as it normally was and when the sun hit just right you could see the deep shade of blue eyes, pearly white teeth, and his smooth skin would shine.

That wasn't the case for this particular day. The blotches on his face were prominent even on the darkness of his skin. His eye swollen to the point it was almost closed and his lip cut in two different places. His cheek looked to be flushed in colors and his eyes avoided mine as he made his way up the driveway. I watched him in silence still in the state of shock as he reached down to grab the basketball, swiftly shifting it from one hand to the next as he attempted a half assed smile.

"What are we playing?" I blinked once, twice. The confusion was written on my face as I kept staring at him. His question threw me more off guard than any other as I opened my mouth.

"Let's start with playing the game of answering what the hell happened to your face??" I said firmly, crossing my tiny arms at the time over my chest. I've never seen Tyson look this way.

"It's nothing."

"It's obviously not nothing dude, did you get in a fight?"

"Sorta."

"Sorta?" I asked astonished. A sorta fight doesn't make you look the way he did.

"Jackson just drop it. It's none of your business." He snapped at me. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed clearly annoyed with my pestering which only caused my frown to deepen. I uncrossed my arms with a sigh shaking my head.

"Tyson it is my business. Your shit is my shit. You're my best friend. I couldn't picture my life without you I've known you for so long. You snapping at me won't change that and it won't change the fact that I will just ask you again. You can tell me anything." I watched as his lower lip quivered and his eyes looked to the side that were slowly brimming with tears. He lifted his hand to wipe under his nose briefly as a few lone tears dropped from his eyes. The sadness swarmed in my chest watching him look so devastated.

"It was my dad.." he admitted finally, choking on a sob as he tried to keep it in. I immediately went forward engulfing him in my arms as his went around me as he cried into my shoulder, the basketball long forgotten and across the street.

Later on that night we laid down on my bed in our pajamas, his mom thankfully allowing him to stay the night and my mom already having our matching pajamas out the second his mom agreed. It was quiet for a long time, neither of us knowing what to say because at nine years old there wasn't much we could do.