Call Me Milo (boyxboy)

Chapter 5

Tucker remembers Dizzy's father from when they were young, mostly back in primary school. He rarely showed up to school events like field trips, talent shows, or science fairs and even when he did, Dizzy wished he hadn't even bothered. That's because there were two alternatives to which Josiah, his father, showed up as. You see, he was either wasted or high as a kite. There was no in-between.

Dizzy was quite young at the time but he understood enough to know that his father wasn't exactly a role model. And he never became one either. Not even after his wife left him and became the only parental figure Dizzy had.

"Get out of here."

Tucker glances to his side where Dizzy stands, his fists clenched at his sides. Tucker hadn't thought far enough ahead to know what to do after he stepped out of his car. But even so, he knew he couldn't leave Dizzy alone with his father in his condition.

"You should get out of here," Tucker tells Dizzy, daring himself to look into his angered eyes.

"Nobody is leaving," Josiah speaks up, "until I find out exactly where you were."

Dizzy brings his tongue to his lips and spits on the ground, inches away from his father.

"How many times do I have to tell you before it gets through your thick skull?" Dizzy yells. "I was working."

Josiah grins wickedly, seeming to finally accept his son's answer. "Where are your paychecks? Surely, you've gotten paid by now."

And that's why Dizzy hadn't told his father about his job. He knew his father would only blow the money he made in an instant. But Dizzy needed the money to pay for his school in the years to come.

Seeing no other option, Tucker breathes in deeply and exhales slowly before he speaks.

"Just get back in the car."

Tucker is too kind for his own good.

Dizzy darts his eyes in Tucker's direction, an eyebrow raised on his forehead. "What?"

Tucker takes a daring step forward, angling his body to Dizzy's. "Let's go."

"I'm not leaving," Dizzy says, though points his eyes in his father's direction. "There isn't a day that goes by that he doesn't act like a pile of horse shit. It happens on a daily basis. Of course I'm used to it now."

Josiah smirks, the corners of his mouth lifting up in a sly manner. "Where'd you learn such dirty language? Horse shit? You'd better watch your goddamn mouth you son of a whor-"

Dizzy rolls his eyes. "No wonder mom left us."

"The hell do you mean by that?" Josiah asks and steps toward his son.

"Who in their right mind would stay with an abusive, alcoholic asshole and his bastard son anyway?" Dizzy practically yells. "Hell, I don't even blame her!" It's as if Tucker isn't standing a few feet away, the way the two argue. But neither care enough.

Dizzy closes the gap between him and his father and rams his shoulder into the older man's as he passes by. Without a word or glance back, Dizzy enters his home and leaves Tucker outside standing bewildered.

Josiah kicks the dirt and sends a gust into the air as he curses loudly. "The goddamn kid is right. He's a goddamn bastard."

Tucker, uncomfortable and sweating in his shoes, stares at Josiah and cannot bring himself to move an inch. Josiah continues mumbling to himself.

"Fuckin' kid. Hides his fuckin' money and freeloads off his father," Josiah mumbles and then lifts his eyes to Tucker as if remembering he's still there. "The fuck you want?"

Tucker feels his words get caught in the back of his throat and chokes on them. "N-nothin'," he spits out.

Josiah nods and stumbles as he walks to his car. He slumps in the driver's seat for a few seconds until he starts the engine and drives off. He isn't sober and Tucker curses him for endangering others on the road.

Though, now that Tucker stands alone outside of Dizzy's home, he gets a better look at the place. He remembers it from all the time he spent here when he and Dizzy were inseparable, but it's changed since then. Dizzy lives in a two bedroom apartment, with windows shattered, panels broken, and paint chipping. The dumpster outside reeks of weeks old garbage and bugs fly about in every direction.

Tucker sighs and concludes he is out of his mind tonight as he begins to walk towards the door to Dizzy's apartment. He slowly pushes it open, and peers inside to find any sight of his childhood friend.

He walks into the living room and notices beer bottles scattered on the floor and couches, an ashtray with overflowing cigarette butts, and a scrawny, orange cat. He recalls that Dizzy's room was the one on the left near the kitchen and makes his way over to the door.

It's closed.

Tucker knocks softly on the door and immediately hears a response.

"Leave me the fuck alone, dad," Dizzy says, his voice raspy and tired.

"It's me."

The door swings open.

Dizzy's eyes are red and his room smells of cigarettes. "You here to screw me over too? Or are you here to tell me that my dad's a freakin' psychopathic asshole and my life has gone to shit? Because I already know that."

"No-"

"Then go home to your perfect family and leave me here with my broken one. We're from completely different worlds now, Tucker. I wouldn't expect you to understand."

But Tucker's family isn't as perfect as Dizzy believes it to be. His mother suddenly remarried and his new step-brother is Chance Dillan for crying out loud.

"You have no idea," Tucker says. But he doesn't explain.

Dizzy slowly begins to walk over to Tucker who backs up with each step. Eventually, his back hits the door and he has nowhere left to go. Dizzy lifts a hand to Tucker's collar and bunches it in his hand, slightly lifting it up. His eyes are narrowed and Tucker swears he can see the daggers shooting out of them.

"You'd better not tell a soul what you saw today," Dizzy warns, refusing to break eye contact with Tucker who finds it difficult to do the same. "Not Chance, not your nerd buddies, not even your grandmother in Alabama. Nobody. Because if anyone finds out, I'll know exactly who to run to."

Tucker bites his lip in hopes it will prevent him from speaking. But it doesn't.

"He's going to keep hurting you."

Dizzy brings his face closer to Tucker's, just so close that their noses are almost touching.

"He's been hurting me for eighteen years, Tucker," Dizzy says, his voice quiet. "Not just physically, either. I told you. I'm so fucking used to it now."

Tucker cannot think of anything to say back to the broken boy in front of him and searches his eyes for any sign of the friend he had three years ago. But he's been long gone.

And so, Tucker does the only thing he can think of at that moment.

He reaches both arms out and wraps them around Dizzy's back, pulling their bodies together. Tucker's heart immediately hammers in his chest as he remembers the old Dizzy.

Though, Dizzy remains completely still. Tucker begins to sweat nervously for a few seconds until Dizzy's voice startles him.

"The hell are you doing?"

Tucker immediately releases Dizzy and feels his face flush. "S-sorry I-"

Tucker takes one look at Dizzy's face and becomes unable to finish his sentence.

Because Dizzy has the faintest smile spread on his lips. And Tucker can't stop looking at it.

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