the broken

Chapter 20

APRIL, 2009

Phil

After Dan had ran out, I had followed him.

Ran after him until the soles of my feet ached, until my lungs caught fire, but I didn't stop.

I found him at the park, the one where we met, curled up in the bushes, shaking.

I didn't have words good enough to help, and he wouldn't have been able to hear them anyways, so I sat on the ground with him and held him close, felt him shake beneath me, felt his heartbeat race under his skin. We sat there until his breathing slowed, until he fell asleep, and I scooped him up and held him close, made my way back home.

I had ran out without telling Jamie what had happened or where I went. I am too tired to deal with him, too tired to apologize. I should feel guilty, but I just can't bring myself to care.

Soon enough, our front door looms in front of me, and I reluctantly turn the handle and step into our apartment, where a very angry looking Jamie leaps up from the kitchen chair he was currently inhabiting.

"Phil, what the hell?!"

He yells angrily upon seeing me, crossing his arms over his chest.

I shush him harshly, carefully lowering the sleeping Dan down on the couch for the minute.

"I was worried sick about you, how could you be so rude?"

He takes a deep breath as if he were going to continue scolding me, but I interrupt furiously.

"Jamie, could you kindly shut the fuck up and let me explain? Dan's mom died. When I told him, he ran off, and I went after him, which is why I was gone all day without telling you. Letting you know what was happening was not the most important thing at the moment and I'd appreciate it if you could please have some respect and consider that you might not always be the first priority," I spit out angrily, and a mess of confusion, guilt, and shame crosses his face before he wipes his expression, glaring at me.

"So sorry that I was concerned about you," he hisses, before spinning around on his heel and disappearing down the hall into his room.

I heave a heavy sigh, tiredness wrapping itself around my head, before slowly heaving myself and the sleeping Dan in my arms down the hall and into Dan's room. I lay him down gently on the rumpled blankets spread across his bed, draping the covers over him delicately. I straighten up and begin to turn around to leave when a hand shoots out and clasps onto my wrist. Surprised, I turn back to see a bleary eyed Dan propping himself up on his elbow.

"Please don't go."

I give a silent nod before turning back around and quietly climbing into the bed with him. He turns and buries his head in my chest, and seconds later his breathing evens out again. He falls asleep, one hand still on my wrist, the other clutching my shirt.

I slowly, carefully wrap my free arm around him, and we lay there like that, him fast asleep, me listening to the sound of his breathing. For once, we are not a puzzle. We are just here, breathing, existing. Nothing is confusing lying here in the moonlight, clinging to each other.

The next thing I know, sunlight tickles the backs of my eyelids, and I drift back into the land of the living, stretching carefully as to not wake Dan, who still clutched onto my shirt as if it was the only thing keeping him from falling off the face of the earth. I lay there quietly, watching little wisps of sunlight curl through the air and swirl through his soft hair, gently reaching up and twisting my fingers around his curls, playing with them with lazy fascination.