Scott Mason: Gay Superhero (boyxboy)

Chapter 36

Over the next couple weeks Graham and I visited the hospital. Will joined a couple of times, but insisted that he'd stay behind because it was awkward—his reasoning was that he didn't really know them. I thought it had something to do with Carissa, but didn't say anything. Will still had his own shit to work through, so I'm not heartbroken over it. A week in Nitroa woke up—not while we were there, unfortunately. Carissa left a toneless message on Graham's answering machine about it happening in an hour or two, by the time he had seen the text, she was already awake.

Graham and I stumbled into the room to see her typing away at a keyboard. She looked up, and the barest hint of her hair coming in lit her face like a halo. We practically assaulted her when we went in to hug her. Our sentences overlapped as we tried to talk.

"Oh, we were so worried!"

"You look like a St Jude's patient."

She held her hands up and stopped us in our tracks. The silence that followed was unnatural. When she spoke, her voice was cracked and rusty.

"Are you guys ok?"

We blinked. I brought a hand up to my mouth and stifled a irreverent snort. "You're the one in the hospital," Graham said, "and you're asking us if we're OK?"

She blinked, as if Graham had said something factual, like '2+2=4', or 'Birds fly.'. "And what about it? I know that we failed." She turned the laptop in front of her around to show clips running on youtube from different media outlets. "That's a fact that we'll have to live with. I was asking if you two were ok in reference to..." She struggled for words and shook her hand. It disappeared into a buzzing blur before she found it. "In reference to how you guys feel."

We weren't smiling anymore. I glanced at Pitch, who's face went cloudy. "We still cry about it. School is hard. There are a lot of people missing and staying home—like they have the flu."

Nitroa nodded. "And I guess you know about Fusion..." Her words drifted off. We all glanced at the blue curtain. She took a shaky breath. I went over to the bed and sat next to her. The hand shook when I grabbed it—Graham did the same.

"I'm sorry." I said. The words seemed grossly inadequate. Her hands squeezed.

"It's ok—I'm ok. Well, maybe not now. But I know that I will be. We will be." It took us a moment to realize that she was talking about her and Fusion, not us as a group. We sat there for a moment and marinated in the silence. Suddenly, she removed her hands and pressed the space bar on her laptop. I peeked at what she did.

She had paused a video. Frozen on the screen was a dark figure with a bright flash of blue illuminating the center of the screen. "Also, what the fuck was that?" It took me a moment to process that it was me on the screen—a video taken in the middle of the battle.

I shifted. "Well...I electrocuted him..gave him what he wanted. He just couldn't handle the volts." Nitroa looked at me for a few seconds with a blank face before bursting into laughter. I jumped when it popped out of her mouth. It didn't pop out more than it barked out. I looked over at Graham, who had the same look of concern on his face. Nitroa kept laughing into her palms, laughing so hard that it looked like she was going to burst a blood vessel. Tears streamed down her face, and pretty soon she gasped for air.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

She wiped tears away from her face. "Well..it's just that he wanted to take the energy out of you, I guess, right? And instead he...he..." she burst into gales of laughter that sent another group of tears down her cheeks. I was dismayed when her laugh started to turn into a comically exaggerated smile. "And instead..." Her eyebrows turned up and the corners of her mouth turned down. The smile melted and soon her face was buried in her hands. Gales of laughter turned into heaving sobs that shook the bed.

Both Graham and I took her into our arms and comforted her. She rocked from side to side, and as we shushed her and consoled her, we made eye contact. I swear, we must have had the same thought again: Never the same.

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I stared in the mirror and wiggled my arm. It had been out of the sling for half the day yesterday—and this left me with a deep ache that didn't go away until I got up this morning. It was still stiff and ached, but nothing like it had before. If I could take it for half a day, there was no doubt I could take it from Graham for...well, I had no idea. It wasn't like I knew everything that I was doing. I wasn't even sure about what to do other than clean out.

I took my shirt off and eyed my reflection. The stitches on my face had been removed a few days ago, but a couple of the ones on my body were still there. I wasn't going to lie: I kinda liked the way they looked. They were less angry-looking, but still a deep pink color around the edges. I traced one that crossed a part of my chest.

As I did, I wondered: Should I shave? The hair I had on my chest and torso was interrupted by stitches. Was that something Graham would like?

Questions about hair...elsewhere treaded lightly in the back of my mind. I didn't think I could do anything about that—the bends my body would have to make to trim would surely put my shoulder out of commission until the new year. I worked at the crease that had started to form in my forehead. I only ever thought that this would be something that girls would think about. How wrong I had been.

I peeled the rest of my clothes off of me and turned the bathroom fan on. The shower sputtered to life and hissed a steady stream of water. The scrub down I had was thorough—nothing was left unclean. After I stepped out I slipped into some sweats and a t-shirt. By the time I was done it was nearly 10.

That was the time that we had agreed upon—he'd show up any moment. And as if he had read my mind, there was a knock at the front door. My heart jumped at the sound. With a quiet that I didn't know I was trying to be, I padded through the hall and to the door. Graham stood there, a day's stubble dotting his jaw and wind-pinked skin on full display.

I couldn't think of anything to say, so all I mustered was a weak "Hey."

He smirked. "Hey."

I leaned my head on the door and grinned at him for a moment. Actually, a moment longer than I should have.

"Can I come in?"

I shook my head. Gosh, I didn't have time to just stare at him. I stepped to the side and motioned him in. I drank in the sight of him from behind and already felt myself pitching a tent. God. I shut the door and pulled the deadbolt.

He slid off his jacket and laid it on the couch. I stared at the ripples his shoulders made under his t-shirt. He turned back to look at me. "Are you ok? You look like a deer in headlights."

I nodded and swallowed. "Yeah, I...I guess I'm just nervous."

Graham sidled over and took me into his arms. "Well, if it makes you feel better we could go out and get something to eat, or we could watch a movie.." I shook my head.

"No, I don't think that would help. I think it's just a hurdle that I'll need to cross."

He nodded. "Ok—well, can I sweep you off of your feet, young sir?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Since when do you ask permission?"

"Point taken." He swept me up and carried me off to the bedroom.

Go to other book now to read the rest—if you can't read it, I'm sorry. It's very mature and age-restricted and I don't want my account to get knocked. For those that can read it—enjoy ;)

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