Chapter 23.
Next days are always come the next day. So, it was no surprise that the next day, the next day arrived.
It was Sunday.
Sunday.
Sundays are like a default program.
Sundays take a while to get working, and when they do, they’re fresh and new. Clean and fragranced. Happy and peaceful.
Aiden didn’t hear the doorbell ring. He couldn’t, because his mother’s thumping music was too loud. This was unfortunate because Aiden’s mum actually did hear the doorbell (she was waiting for a drug dealer or something, and keeping an ear out for it).
“Ooh, my customers are getting younger by the day,” Aiden’s mum laughed flirtatiously.
“Hi, is Aiden in?” A young boy, surrounded by bags, asked sheepishly.
“Who?” she eyed the teenage boy eerily.
“He lives here?”
“Oh, him. What do you want from him?”
“I’m his . . . friend.”
“Unlucky,” she laughed, “He ain’t got no friends.”
“He’s got me,” Matt said wearily.
“Are you fucking him?” she sighed.
“What?” Matt spluttered.
“I know his type. Wants to turn the world queer,” she shoved the door closed in his face. Yet, determined and desperate, Matt banged on the door again. He thumped it a few times until Aiden’s mother (as Matt assumed) barged outside.
“What the #!#*#!” she swore a few times. Well, more than a few times. She even came out with completely new and unique swearwords, making Matt wonder about the boundaries of cursing.
“Can I just talk to Aiden, please?” he begged, ignoring her. She answered him using a variety of vocabulary. “PLEASE?” he begged. This caused her to shout louder, creating quite an audience of nosy neighbours (they soon moved away when she turned her cursing to them). Matt stood, dumbstruck, but still determined.
Eventually, Aiden’s mother gave up. “For God sake,” she said (or, at least, something along the lines of that). She returned moments later, holding Aiden by his hair and dragging him out. “Don’t bother coming back tonight,” she shouted, slamming the door behind him.
Aiden’s eyes bore into the ground and he shyly wrapped his arms around him. “Why are you here?” he asked.
“I wanted to see you.”
“What’s with the bags?”
“My parents threw me out. Well, my dad did, anyway. My mum couldn’t really stop him,” Matt shrugged as casually as possible.
“Why?” Aiden asked, verging on the edge of concerned.
“He’s not that accepting. Stuff happened to him, when he was in college. He had a bad encounter with a gay guy, or something. He never really got over it.”
“What happened?” Aiden asked, diffidently interested.
Matt looked up at him and shrugged. He opened his mouth leisurely, but quickly shut it again. He raised his left eyebrow in a strangely abhorrent fashion but let it drop effortlessly.”He was raped,” he shrugged again.
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52. (BoyxBoy)
Teen FictionAiden's life is a lonely mess of suffering and torment. He's bullied daily, and abused by his mother. He's fed up with it, and on the 52nd day of the year, he's going to give up. It's all planned. So why did that have to be the day The New Boy turne...
