Starstruck (the Idea of Always)

Vrijdag 19:07

Lucas
       "Hi, sweetie."

       Lucas gave his mom a weak smile, noticing that she looked better, more energetic and awake. She was sitting up and smiling at him, a glass of water in her hand. He sat on the bed next to her, his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, twisting the thick silver ring on his finger.

       "Hi, Mama."

       She held out her hand and wiggled her fingers, something she always did when she wanted a hand to hold. Lucas stared at her hand for a second, biting his lip, before taking a short and pulling his bruised hand out and placing it on top of hers. She turned his hand in hers and looked at it, softly brushing her fingertips over the bruises and small scab. Lucas watched her face, her lips purse and forehead wrinkle.

       "Was it a face or a wall?"

       Lucas scoffed quietly.

        "Wall."

       She nodded slowly and moved their hands to her lap. Lucas listened to the clock ticking on the other side of the room.

        "Are you going to tell me what's going on?" she asked gently after a few seconds.

        Lucas looked at her, his mouth closed, jaw moving, like he wanted to say something, and then he looked away, down to their hands, watching her thumb run back and forth.

       "Lucas..." she whispered. "Tell me."

       "When I went to Belgium..." He stopped, thinking about how much to say. Thinking about what she might say if he told her about Jens. If she would tell him she would take him to church, that he can be fixed. If she would push him away, let go of his hand. He tightened his grip on her hand instinctively. "I-uhm..."

       "You..."

      He didn't look at her.

        "I met this guy." Her thumb didn't stop moving, and he watched it, focusing on how her skin moved. Her hands had always looked older than they should have. "And we hung out a lot, we would go to the skate park together, and just talk-" His breath caught and he swallowed. "Uhm..." He took a deep breath, feeling her eyes on him. "I fell in love with him, Mama."

       He looked at their hands, waiting for her thumb to stop moving, waiting for her to let go and shove him back, waiting for her to tell him he was broken, defective, waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting, but she didn't.

       He looked up at her, her eyes soft on him, sad.

      "Did he fall in love with you, too?"

      Lucas nodded slowly.

       She was quiet.

      "Then why this?" She looked down, holding his hand up.

       "I-You're not mad?" he asked, ignoring the question.

       "Oh, no, of course not." She leaned forward, touching his face. "You're my boy. I don't care."

      He stared at her in wonder.

      "But what about...God?"

      "God is love, Lucas." She let go of his hand and moved it to hold his face. "He loves you, and He loves that boy you love. He doesn't care." Lucas had started to cry as she spoke, and she wiped his tears away. "God loves you."

       Lucas had never thought he'd hear those words. In every scenario he'd concocted in his head about this moment, she would push him away, she would curse him, she'd cut him off, kick him out. He'd never considered the possibility that everything would be okay.