Near Perfect, Part 3 of 3
When Adrian pulled into his weed-choked driveway, Alex walked across the lawn toward him. He’d been waiting most of the afternoon for him to get home, but he wasn’t someone the punk was in the mood to deal with.
A small part of him wanted to mend things with him so his chest wouldn’t ache so much, but there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t just leave again.
He tried to go around him, but Alex caught his shoulders. “Adrian, please. Will you listen to me for just a second? Give me a chance,” the college student pleaded with him. He grounded and let him speak.
“My parents forced me to leave when I was threatened by a boy at school. They didn’t give me an option, but I guess it was partly my fault because I told them about it. I came back for you,” he said, confident Adrian could be won over.
His bright blue eyes narrowed dangerously and he let him have his pent up emotion, “If you had really cared for me at all, you wouldn’t have disappeared for three years without so much as a phone call! I’m not some needy girl, or else you wouldn’t be gay, but three years?! Go to hell Alex”
Adrian shoved past him and slammed the front door. He paused in the entryway. There was a vase on a shelf directly across from him. It had been there since his mother had moved out and it provided an interesting option to help him forget the day.
He picked it up, weighing it a little with his hands, and chunked it against the nearest wall. The ceramic piece exploded into thousands of shards, doing its job perfectly. Heavy footsteps approached from the living room, a sound he normally tried to avoid out of fear, but he welcomed it today.
The first blow connected with the side of his head as his father bellowed at him, “What the hell is the matter with you, boy?”
Adrian landed on his hands and knees, shaking his head to clear his swimming vision. At least one thing would never change; his father would always look for a reason to beat the living daylights out of him.
Michael taped up the last box of things his mother had missed. It was getting a bit late to leave, but she had the car completely packed and insisted on going as soon as he was ready. She’d been pleased he’d changed his mind about leaving but she wouldn’t have let him say no.
His little sister poked her head in the bare room to check on him. She set down her backpack for the car and tentatively asked him, “Are you sure about this?”
Michael picked up the box, but she closed the door. He dropped it in frustration and ran a hand through his red hair, snapping at her, “Am I sure about what Liz?”
She held out the helmet with the green eye shield, “Are you sure you want to let him go?”
Adrian spit out a mouthful of blood, his split lip seeping the liquid at a ridiculous rate. His father grabbed the front of his shirt and peered into the boy’s apathetic face.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you wanted this.”
The punk chuckled and answered him spitefully, “You know I always look forward to this. It’s wonderful father-son bonding time.”
“Shut up!”
Michael stormed down the hall towards the garage, yelling back at Elizabeth as he went, “It’s not exactly like he gave me much of a choice! If you heard enough of our conversation, you would also recall that I was just a plaything! He doesn’t want me here!”
She jogged to keep up with his pace. “He didn’t mean that and you know it! Michael, honestly! Do you really think that he was telling the truth?! You were offering to separate yourself from your family to be with him! He wanted what was best for you,” she contradicted him.
Michael put the last box in the trunk and slammed it shut, whirling on her.
“And how can you be so sure about that?! What do you know about him?” he snapped.
Elizabeth pursed her lips in disgust. “I know that he deserves better than you if you’re giving this up so easily.”
Adrian took a fist to his stomach and collapsed on the threadbare carpet. The man he’d never called ‘dad’ flipped him over with his foot and stepped on his chest.
“Usually you at least try and get a few hits in.. You losing your edge, boy? That’s disappointing,” he told his child.
When Adrian couldn’t pull up enough wit from his pain clouded head to respond, his father grunted and returned to the couch in the living room. After a few minutes, the punk dragged together the energy to crawl up the stairs and into bed.
Every square inch of his flesh felt as though it was black and blue, but he found he could still think about what he’d lost. The ache of his heart was gone, though; he could feel nothing there at all.
Michael stood on the front lawn with Adrian’s helmet in his hand, while his mother pulled the car around to idle in the street.
Elizabeth was right. He had to go tell Adrian that he didn’t believe him. He couldn’t just let him shut down the whole thing at the touch of a button.
The window of the mini-van rolled down and his mother’s voice floated out, “Let’s go sweetie, I’d like to be on the road before it gets too dark.”
Michael looked up at her, clutching the helmet tight as he spoke, “I’m staying here, Mom, and I’m not going to let you change my mind.”
“What?”
He smiled when the words came to him, because they were true, “I can’t go back, I’m in love.”
She opened her mouth to respond, and he took off down the road in a dead sprint. A sharp pain shot through him with every breath, but he wasn’t going to stop for anything. Even if Adrian had meant everything he’d said, Michael would let him know exactly how he felt.
He reached the house that needed a new paint-job completely out of breath, but grinning like an idiot. Without waiting to regain composure, he rang the doorbell. An older man answered it. He had a few rust-colored stains on his shirt and a beer clutched in one hand. Michael thought nothing else of him.
“Is Adrian home?” he panted.
The man’s expression clouded over and he scowled, “No.”
He shut the door in the teen’s face. Confusion fogged his iron determination. Perhaps Adrian hadn’t come straight home, but that wasn’t right. His motorcycle was in the driveway. Not to be deterred, Michael ran around to the ivy rack they’d used the night they’d snuck in to make out. As he’d hoped, the window was unlocked.
The lithe boy slipped into the dark room. It was technically breaking and entering, but he really didn’t care. He spotted Adrian’s inert from on the bed and crossed the room to him.
“Adrian, I…”
Without moving, the punk cut him short, “I thought I told you to go home!”
“Kerkland is home now. I’m not leaving,” he stated, grabbing Adrian to turn him. His cry of pain caused Michael to pull away sharply. “Adrian? What’s the matter? What happened?” Curious, Michael gently pulled away the comforter. He gasped at Adrian’s state.
Cuts and bruises covered his face, parts of it already swollen from the lack of care. Sad blue eyes peered from the nearly unrecognizable features. “Not exactly the hunk you fell in love with, huh?” he asked.
Michael’s gaze softened and he leaned forward to kiss the corner of his mouth, reassuring him, “You’ll still be a hunk to me. This kind of stuff heals.. Let’s get you patched up.” The rust colored stains made sense. It was the only immediate explanation that Michael could think of. He’d never known anyone who dealt with abuse before, but he would do what he could for Adrian.
He helped his boyfriend to the bathroom so they’d have better light. The first-aid kit under the sink looked like it got a lot of use, but Michael opened it up. Adrian sat on the counter while the younger boy doctored him.
“Are you really going to stay? Isn’t your family more important?” the punk ventured.
Michael dabbed at the cut on his lip with hydrogen-peroxide and replied, “My dad’s staying here, so I’ll live with him. Besides, you’re quite a prize to just give up. That and, I don’t think I’ll be able to find a senior guy willing to take me to prom on such short notice.”
Adrian smiled and held him close. “No, I don’t bet you could. Not in Chicago.”
The world had gone from heaven to hell to near perfect and near perfect would do just fine.