Untold. // Phan

Chapter 10

WARNING: MENTION OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, MENTION OF HOMOPHOBIA

***

When I woke up, I had a message on my phone.

P: Coming today?

I looked at the clock. It was just before seven, and I would normally have to leave the house in twenty minutes. But I didn't want that today.

D: Actually no.

P: Me neither. Do you mind me coming over?

D: No. In an hour?

P: Sure! :)

I felt a light smile as I put my phone back on the mattress. My father came in for a moment, asked me how I felt and then disappeared with the information that I could always call him. Addy had just left and probably thought that I was sleeping.

When I was sure that the house was empty, I got up. It wasn't long before it rang. He grinned at me as I opened the door.

"Sorry if I forced you to get up." he laughed after he entered the house.

"I don't mind." When I realized that Phil didn't really know if he could move freely or not, I gave him a hand gesture that he should go into the living room.

When I followed him, I noticed that he looked on the few pictures that stood in the living room.

"You didn't mention that you have a sister. Maybe keep it that way, I think Lukas would attack her." I frowned. "Your sister is a beautiful girl." I started laughing.

"Nobody asked, so I didn't say anything."

"You just don't want to tell anything." He noticed and dropped onto the couch. "What's her name? Addy?"

"Adriana, actually, I just call her Addy." We just looked at each other for a while until he started to laugh.

"Come on, tell me something about her, is she the annoying little sister everyone has? Except me, thank God."

"Honestly, she is the best sister you can wish for."

"Wow, that the sort of siblings exist too."

"Apparently." He smiled gently at me and I sighed. I had never been in the living room for so long. It was funny when no one else was home. Suddenly you discover that the house has more rooms than a bedroom and the bathroom.

"Wanna go to the sports flied?" he asked suddenly and I nodded. Why not?

So we went outside together and hoped to not be seen by anyone. Philip hid behind cars the whole time, so I laughed at him. My brain was confused: I was outside and laughing, a lot of new things.

We walked up the small mountain and it seemed to me that I was only now aware of the surroundings. The sky was blue, the trees were mostly green, but they were already turning red slowly, the air was fresh and clean. It smelled of wood and old leaves. It smelled like life.

"How is your arm?" he asked cautiously as we sat on the grass of the sports field.

"It didn't fall off, so I guess it's okay." Joking, honestly? 

The grass was soft and for the moment I was sitting with this boy on the grass. For that moment, it felt okay. I felt okay.

"Do you smoke?" he suddenly asked, and I frowned, but didn't answer. "I wasn't sure, but I think I saw a pack in your room."

"You mean that one?" I asked, taking it out of my jacket pocket. "You are very attentive."

"I just noticed." he murmured and I took one out. Should I or should I not? I should, I decided and put it in my mouth.

"I'm not a chain smoker or something." I started and Phil nodded. "Every now and then, if I feel like it."

"I'm more of a party smoker, too." he admitted and giggled. "Can I?"

For a while, we just sat there and smoked a cigarette together. I offered him one, but he didn't want it. He said if he smoked a whole on his own, that would be too extreme. I just laughed about it.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked.

"Why don't you just ask?"

"I'd rather prepare you for a more difficult question." I raised my eyebrows and mentally prepared myself for every conceivable question.

"Why are you doing that?" He pointed to my arms, then to the pack of cigarettes. "I don't even want to know your story if you don't want to tell it, but why? What does it do?"

At first the question annoyed me, but then I realized that he really cared. He tried to understand it. He didn't label me, he didn't form his own opinion, he really wanted to know why I did it. I probably never expected that.

"Because I-" I started and for a moment I wondered if I should try to explain. "Because I don't know what else to do." That was probably the most honest thing I've ever said on the subject. And I said it to someone I only knew for a month.

He just looked at me and I knew he was trying to put that sentence somewhere in order to understand what I wanted to say. To understand me.

"There's so much in my head, do you know that feeling, when it's so loud in there?" he nodded.

"It's always either too loud or too quiet, too much or too little, sometimes it's so much that it's way too much and I feel like my brain is overloaded." He looked at me sympathetically. I saw it in his eyes and I didn't know if I thought it was good or bad. Somehow, I felt he could understand that part of me.

"And if you do that, anything, does it go away?"

"For a moment, yes." I said and he nodded, while he began to rip grass out of the earth. "What do you do if it is to loud?"

"I have a punching bag." he smiled slightly. "I don't use it often anymore, it's pretty quiet right now."

"How did you do that?" It seemed to me that I was desperate and maybe I was.

"Have managed to live with it."

"With what?" He looked up and for an eternally long moment we just looked each other in the eye. Somehow I wanted to show him that he didn't have to answer if he didn't want to, but before I could say or do anything, he started talking.

"That my mom doesn't want me." I swallowed hard.

"What why?" I asked in shock. I quickly tried to correct myself. "You do not have to say it when-"

"Because she doesn't want a fagot as a son." he interrupted me and looked at me. It wasn't an outing, he knew that I knew it.

"Holy shit." I couldn't think of anything else at the moment. "I'm sorry, I have no idea how that can be, fucking shit."

"My dad likes me and my grandparents, so she doesn't matter." He lied, but I didn't want to keep pushing him. "Who needs someone to throw you out of the house at thirteen, after your stepfather beat you up?"

I wanted to hug him, but I didn't dare. What if he didn't want it?

"I like you too." I said after a while, and in fact he smiled at me.