I'm His (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 6

I was terrified but insanely thrilled to be on such a killer machine. Mark was driving crazy fast, but I whooped and hollered at every pot hole in joy. Who wouldn't love this? Probably some wimpy boyfriend Mark probably had in the past.

That might even be his type, who knew. I imagined a small guy laughing with Mark and then kissing him pathetically. Then, for some reason, I turned into that boy. Would Mark hit on me? I shivered and brushed the thought from my mind, the motorcycle pulled up in front of my house and I hesitantly got off.

It was weird riding with him in the first place. Two guys on motorcycle, one a killer werewolf and the other the person that was almost killed by the werewolf.

"That was seriously fun, I need to get myself one of those." I said. He smiled and shrugged, taking the helmet from my hands.

"Yeah, it really helps with my reputation as the stereotypical 'bad boy', you know?" he joked. I chuckled and stuffed my hands into my pockets, trying to get the ice cold out of them.

"Uh yeah, thanks for the ride."

"Anytime. If you prefer I could drive my car instead. I mean if you're scared I might kill you on my death machine."

"Nah, it's pretty cool. You make it sound like you want to give me rides everywhere." I said. He shrugged and fiddled with the helmet in his hands.

"Maybe I do. I mean, if that isn't too weird." he replied, looking up with a frown. I looked at my feet and kicked at nothing.

"Yeah, that's a little weird. Sorry." I replied. I met his eyes and he sighed.

"Nah, it's cool. I guess what I'm saying is we should hang out sometime." he said. I nodded and shoved my hands deeper into my pockets.

"Yeah, sure. Maybe I'll text you and make plans."

"Actually text me this time?"

"Ha, yeah. I will actually text you this time." I said.

"So I guess this is goodbye until tomorrow." he said. I nodded and focused on the black helmet in his lap.

"You going to put that up?" I asked, drawing attention to the helmet. He chuckled and got off his bike, opening the top of the seat and putting it into the compartment. He sat back down and revved up his bike.

"See you." I said before he adjusted his helmet and righted himself on the street before speeding off in the afternoon chill. I stood there for another minute, watching him until he was no longer in my line of vision.

He made me feel so weird, like I was suffocating every time he came close.  Maybe it's truly because I fear him? He almost killed me, and my body knows that better than I do. I felt a phantom ache in my rib and rubbed it away, bringing myself back to when the doctors discovered I was completely healed.

"There's no way this is possible. Bruised ribs don't just heal overnight." My father said harshly. He wasn't taking this whole car-crash-then-magically-healed thing very well.

"I'm sorry sir, I'm as equally as shocked. He was going to be discharged today anyways, so there really is no explanation." The older doctor soothed. The doctor outnumbered my father by many years from what I could see.

My father was just now getting salt in his pepper hair, his outfit consisting of thin sweaters on top of t-shirts with jeans. It was the usual domesticated dad look, or at least that's what Trish and I called it.

"Dad, just calm down. Who would care if magical fairies came through the window and healed him? He's healed. You should be happy. Didn't mom teach us not to question miracles?" Trish preached. I rolled my eyes and my father rubbed his temples.

"Patricia, you know I've never been able to just call miracles-- well, miracles; you know that better than anyone." he said. Both Trish and I grimaced and looked at some random object in the room, anywhere but where our mind was leading us.

The last miracle was the one we experienced all together and then we ended up getting robbed. Mom had gotten a call from our church telling her to head to the church immediately because there was an emergency.

She urged us all to come, the church the very focal point of our life then. It turned out that the church had been trashed completely by nothing more than 'filthy rugrats who had nothing better to do than ruin another persons day'.

Seeming like a miracle, nothing in the church was damaged and no one was hurt. As soon as we arrived back home though, our front door was open and our TV and other appliances were gone. What a miracle, huh?

"I'm afraid I can't explain how he healed like he did, but he's perfectly okay to leave. I've seen a thing or two in my days, and even if you don't believe it, it is definitely a miracle your son will be going home unharmed." The doctor said. He eventually said his goodbyes, giving me a wink before leaving us to brew amongst ourselves.

Trish and Dad bickered a little more while I got ready to leave, dad finally giving in once I was ready to go. He set his hand on my head and pulled me in for a hug.

"I guess your mother might be right, I shouldn't question this miracle. At least for now." he said. He kissed my head and we were on our way home, the cold less intimidating with the feeling I had in my chest.

Trish took a sip of her bottled Starbucks and squinted intensely at me.

"He gave you a ride on his motorcycle? Both of you just riding off into the sunset?" she questioned. I chuckled and threw a bunched up straw wrapper at her.

"Shut up. Just because I told you he's gay doesn't mean you can start something fictional between us. He honestly just wants to be friends with me, do you know anyone who just wants to be friends with him?" I said. She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it. "That's what I thought."

"But it doesn't make any sense. He's not fruity or anything, he's such... A guy."

"Well no duh, he is a guy. No one has to be feminine to be gay." I said. She shrugged and took the last sip of her coffee.

"Whatever. I just feel like you should be careful. You're the only one who will truly talk to him, and you're his type." she said. She began to get up and walk away to throw away her bottle.

"Really? I felt like he'd be into super wimpy guys that are super feminine."

"Maybe, but still. You've got something that none of the other girls in school do." I turned around in my chair to face her.

"And what's that?" I asked. She leaned in really close.

"A penis." she said before pulling back and turning to leave.

"Really Trish? That's your argument?" I called out to her. She shrugged and continued up the stairs until I couldn't see her anymore. I sighed and looked at my phone sitting uselessly on the table.

Healing in the hospital wasn't a miracle, it was Mark. This uneasy feeling I felt, was that Mark too?