Husbands But Not

26: Resolution

Noah

The present time

Kent was shivering. He lay in my bed, blankets wrapped around him like a turtle.

"He needs a doctor." I told my family, in which they all looked at me like I grew a third eye.

"But-" dad said.

"Your grandpa- "second dad said.

"He needs a good doctor." I didn't care that grandpa was one of the best doctors in town, or state, or world. He needed a better one.

"It's just a fever." Grandpa said. "He'll be alright soon." How was he calm about it was beyond me.

Grandpa told us to give him some breathing space and gave him paracetamol for the fever, which died down as fast as it rose.

I was sitting on the floor by the bed, my head resting on the edge of the mattress. My history book was sprawled over my legs. I didn't memorise anything. It was past 10p.m. and the lights were off. The book had lain there open, cold pages open to the chill atmosphere of the bedroom despite the windows being shut.

I closed my eyes for a few minutes and wondered about all the things moving in my mind.

How did you fold upon yourself, Kent Sinclair?

I remembered images of lunch breaks and morning classes I shared with Kent. He was happy, fun, and always had something to say.

Snarky comments and loud laughter embraced his very existence.

I never thought much of it; I've noticed him looking at me multiple times, but never thought there will come a day where Kent Sinclair would be in my bed. At least not in this form.

I suddenly became aware of his hand going through my hair.

"I shouldn't have let you kiss me," he said in remorse. "At least not in front of your friends. Or anyone, really."

"What's wrong with that?"

"I don't need more people knowing I like boys."

"What's wrong with that?"

"According to my dad, very wrong." I felt the acid rising in my stomach. How could someone be so cruel to their own kid.

"I'm sorry, Kent Sinclair."

"You don't have to be sorry, Noah Grayson."

"You'll be okay, Kent Sinclair."

"We'll be okay, Noah Grayson.''

The amount of fights Spyder and I have had since I became close to Kent was overwhelming.

Though none was as big as our last one.

When his arm collided with my rib, I knew it was more than just a platonic accident.

Like, I knew it wasn't intentional, but at the same time, there was an underlying taste of bitterness to it.

"What's wrong with you?! "I screamed in pain. This has been the most stressful football practice of the season.

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with me, you ask?" He looked like the personification of rage. What did I ever do to anger him this much?

"Well it's not me who's playing like it's my last game wer and the players are my enemies."

The other players were starting to gather around us. Neither Spyder nor I were the type to have school fights. A scene like this was premium content for everyone to behold.