A Little Less Lonely Now (boy)²

twenty two

Caden's P.O.V.

I laid upside-down over the edge of my bed, throwing a small red ball against the wall and catching it when it came back to me. As far as I know, Simon is alive; alive and in the hospital. It's been about a week since I last saw him being loaded into the ambulance. My parents' foot steps up the stairs matched the rhythm of my ball hitting the wall and bouncing off my hard wood flooring.

Slowly my door creaked open, allowing my parents into the room. They had taken off the lock the night they found me. They looked somber and peaceful for once in the past month. Out of curiosity, I sat up and put the ball on my nightstand.

"Caden, can we talk to you?"

Why ask if you'd force me to either way?

"Yeah. Sure." They turned around and headed down into the dining room. On the table was my favorite meal- smoked salmon with butter mashed potatoes and vanilla custard. Odd, I know, but ever since I can remember I've loved that combination.

Confused, I sat down as my parents already had. They bowed their heads in prayer, and I sat uncomfortably quiet while I waited for them to finish.

I looked down at my plate, "What is this all about?"

"Caden," my father started, "Your mother and I have been doing some thinking."

That's dangerous.

My mom got straight to the point, "We would like to get to know Simon." She had quickly blurted her sentence.

"Let me get this straight. After hating him for weeks without knowing him- weeks of judging him without knowing him, like it says to notdo in the Bible, you want to get to know him?" I stood up, "Are you kidding me? Is this some sick joke? You made me think the only way to be with the man I love was to run away! And now you're practically asking me to forgive you for that?! You're telling me all this never had to happen if you had just opened your eyes sooner!?" I waved my arms around to enhance my point. Both of my parents cowered away.

"Son, we just didn't think it was right, but, but we noticed that since you haven't been allowed to see him, you've become so reclusive. You haven't spoken a word to us for almost two weeks." He tried to soften his voice to below his usual yelling tone, "We'd rather have a gay son than no son at all."

I sighed, "Well, if you want to get to know him," I crossed my arms, "Then let's go to the hospital."

"The hospital?" my parents spoke at the same time, looking up at me.

"Yeah, the hospital. Where Simon is still residing at because the cops you sent after us totalled not only the car, but his body as well." I sneered, although I wasn't entirely sure Simon was in the hospital, and went to grab my coat. They looked down, guilt undeniably splashed on their faces.

At least I finally get to see Simon again.

.

We rode in silence the entire way. Each bump in the road only reminded me of the flipped car and Simon's unconscious face. It made me want to throw up every time the memory passed through my mind. I tried to suppress the need for a paper bag by thinking about seeing Simon again. I thought about our first kiss, and how long I had been wanting to do that. I thought about how soft his lips will be when I kiss him again, and that I now know for sure that I'm in love with him.

Outside my window, dull bushes passed quickly by and the colorless clouds hung ominously in the sky. No little rabbits tried to dogde the only car on the road, and no one was out walking. It was as if the sole purpose of the universe's energy was to bring me to Simon.