Chapter 11
It didn’t take Matt’s mum much convincing to let Aiden stay over. Actually, it took none at all. She tried to get Aiden to phone his mum, but he simply avoided it by saying he’d already texted her and she was fine with it. Matt hadn’t left Aiden’s side for hours and he had seen that he hadn’t even touched his phone, but he didn’t question anything. He never did.
Once they were back in the comfort of Matt’s room, Aiden asked, “Does your mum ever come into your room? At night?”
Matt shook his head, “Especially not with friends round.” “So you’ve had friends round before?”
“Sure. Well, not at this house, but before,” he paused for a minute. “Just friends. Not like you. . .”
“Like me?” Aiden asked. Matt struggled for something to say and flapped his hands about for a while. “Have you ever had a girlfriend before?” Aiden asked suddenly.
Matt looked at Aiden for a while, considering where to take the conversation. In the end, he just decided on telling the truth. “Yeah, but everyone has. Well, except you maybe. It was just casual, anyway.” It was suddenly obvious that Matt was feeling uncomfortable.
“OK,” Aiden whispered, lightly kissing him on his top lip. Matt was reluctant at first, but eventually returned the kiss with a more forceful one. Trapped in the emotion, they fell to the bed. It was harsher than the first one, but it was also more tender. In a bitter estrangement of thoughts, their minds were clearer. Or maybe they were just more clouded. Either way, they weren’t thinking. They didn’t need to. It was peaceful and blanketed. A sugar rush of passion. It wasn’t lust, it wasn’t love. It was trapped in the moment, forbidding them to let it go. Basically, it was amazing.
It had to end eventually. But when it did, a whole new life started. It was a life of happiness mixed with normality, humour, beauty and reality. The boys had average pizza for tea. Matt’s mum had cooked it, and was quite proud of herself (even though it was quite black). Matt and Aiden ate it happily, at the average dinner table. They laughed and joked with Matt’s average parents, as well as having average conversations. Afterwards, they sneaked off to Matt’s room, where they sat on his bed and watched average television. For an average Saturday evening, there was nothing on. Skipping through channels, they found an average comedy film. It was all average – but incredibly new and exciting. The average-ness peaked into a world of total absurdness. Aiden lived for an average life, but would die for one too. He felt dizzy when he thought of this strange, new, average world. The joy he felt was uncontrollable, undeniable and utterly unbelievable.
He nuzzled his head into Matt’s armpit, and hung his arms around him. “I’m happy,” he whispered in his ear. “I’m so happy,” he repeated. Matt answered, but Aiden never heard his reply, because he was drifting off to a deep, happy, average sleep, right next to his (dare he say it) boyfriend. It was deep, happy, average beauty. It was glisteningly frightening how things could go from absolutely rock-bottom to blissful perfection, in a matter of days. Was it a joke? Was Aiden stupid enough to fall for such a pitiful lie?
Things will never be OK. That’s what he used to tell himself. The sun would set, and he’d still be alive. Alive in a world of hatred and bitterness. He would close his eyes, and still be awake. Purpose would be buried deeper into the hard ground every day. Every piece of humanity would leave him, and he’d be left alone, in dismay and uncertainty. Every day, he’d become stupider than those who care too much to see. Ignorance in a world of bliss. His poisoned mind wouldn’t believe the headlines because they wouldn’t mean anything to him. He wasn’t part of this mad world. Wasn’t . . . or isn’t?
What was he even talking about? Did it matter? His head started to make less and less sense.
He awoke from his warped dreams early, and turned to see Matt lying peacefully next to him, his arm wrapped around Aiden. It was serene and tranquil: a scene of silence.
It was a Sunday. Aren’t Sundays beautiful? Sundays are days of peace and rest. The best metaphor for a Sunday would be some sort of country woodland walk, on a stunning autumn afternoon. Sun would drape over the whole scene, lapping through glaring trees. There would be a family, a picnic basket and a dog. It would be like an episode of Outnumbered, full of comedy and humour, but in the depth of it, all that would remain is mundane family life, with an added essence of joy and pure gorgeousness.
Aiden used to dream of that when he was little. He just wanted a woodland walk on a Sunday or a trip to the zoo. Even a quick visit down to the park (preferably one not blanketed in broken glass, half-empty bottles of alcohol or a few odd needles and syringes here and there).
But today was a different kind of Sunday. It was a couple-y Sunday, the sort of one you would associate with new couples, which Aiden was now in. He wanted to stay here all day. All week, all year. He could stay in the moment for the rest of his life.
That Sunday, waking up in the arms of . . . somebody. It could have been an anybody, and he would have been overjoyed – but it was a somebody, which meant a great deal more. But that Sunday, it meant everything to Aiden. The oversized smile stealing Aiden’s face was grinning from ear to ear. His eyes were still closed, savouring the moment. He could hear Matt’s soft snores rumbling through his ears, and they were comforting.
He couldn’t bear to wake him, he seemed so peaceful and at ease. So, he simply didn’t. Matt seemed to sleep for an age, but realistically, he woke up pretty early.
Aiden could hear Matt’s mum pacing the floor outside the room, and was instantly on guard. Slowly, he heard her plod down the stairs. Relaxing, he leaned back into Matt’s arms.
“Hey,” Matt’s voice met him. Aiden was suddenly startled, but quickly got overthe shock and laughed softly.
“Hey,” he groaned. “Did you sleep well?”
Yawning, but still smiling (how is that possible?), Matt nodded. “You?”
“Mmm,” Aiden whispered. He leaned back into the bed. His head met the cushion with a light crash. “You kept stealing the duvet, though.”
“Sorry. I won’t next time.”
“So, there’ll be a next time?” Aiden inquired. Matt blushed at the realisation of his words. He turned bright scarlet, making Aiden’s heart fluttered more.
“I’m getting up,” Matt muttered, breaking Aiden’s happiness.
“Stay,” Aiden moaned, grabbing Matt’s sweaty palms.
“No,” Matt shoved Aiden’s hand off his.
Determined, Aiden continued, “Matt, what’s up?”” He followed him to his closet, where he was searching for clothes. He touched his shoulder lightly, placing his palm face down on it. Matt thrust his body away from the other boy.
“Just get off,” he raised his voice, a sudden anger emerging in his eyes. The usual muted, muddy brown pupils were becoming stressed and blaring with strong, fierce flames of raging anger. Aiden stumbled backwards. “I think you should go,” Matt growled.
Aiden nodded, silently. He picked up his things and rushed out the bedroom door.
“Oh, hello, Aiden!” Matt’s mum said cheerily. Too cheerily.
“Err, hey Mrs . . . Rose?”
“Call me Sandra,” she winked.
“Oh, OK. Sandra,” Aiden staggered.
“Are you off already? You’re up early!”
“Yeah, I have,” he paused, unsure what to say, “stuff to do.”
“Don’t you even want any breakfast?”
“No.” She eyed him up suspiciously. “I mean,” he restarted, “I’ll have some when I get home. Thanks for the offer, anyway.”
She nodded at him. “Bye, see you soon,” she winked at him again and he waved back, exiting the house.
“Fuck,” he cried as soon as he was alone in the street. If you’ve ever seen the scene in Love Actually where Kiera Knightly goes around her husband’s best friend’s flat and she finds out that he is in love with her, then he says he has to go for an ‘early lunch’ so he walks to town and keeps hitting himself and turning around and. . . well, it was kind of like that.
Aiden didn’t have a clue where he was going. He was walking the opposite way from his house and he knew it. He was walking further and further away. It was like walking into the sun, but not in a happy way. After all, he had no one to hold hands with and skip off into the sunset with.
It was still morning. It was about ten and the sky was bright. It was spring. Easter was fast approaching, and things were getting happier. There was new wildlife being born, flowers growing in vast, open spaces, and it was a happy time. It was a new start: fresh and young.
Taking in the atmosphere, Aiden calmed himself down. Tears rushed down his face and clouded his vision. He slumped down on an empty pavement. The houses around him were abandoned and derelict. It was a rougher side of town, and he was pretty lost. Every so often, a car would rush past him, not even noticing him. His hands were full of dirt from the pavement, and his face was red from tears. He must have looked a right eye-sore, but his appearance wasn’t the top of his agenda.
“It doesn’t matter,” he breathed deeply. “Doesn’t matter,” he gushed, standing up. “Where am I?” he sighed. The place was a maze. He wandered through a building site and a few car parks. There were very few people around. He passed a few older, stockier and more brutal men, glaring at him, with growling rottweilers. There were a few chavvy girls sitting on a bench, drinking, who wolf-whistled to him. Ignoring it all, he carried on walking, in the rough direction of where he’d come from.
He turned back a few times, thoroughly lost. With all the evil glares he was receiving, he certainly didn’t want to ask anyone for directions. Considering how (in the nicest possible way) awful the area was, it wasn’t that surprising that as Aiden turned the corner, around some sort of industrial estate, he ended up in the path of Darren and co. He thought of turning around and running, but they’d already seen him, and were a lot faster.
“Look what we have here, boys,” Darren laughed, as the pack circled Aiden.
“What?” one of the not-so-bright boys asked, curious.
Ignoring him, Darren carried on, “What you doing here, gay boy?” A lot more insults followed, but I think some form of censorship is necessary.
“I’m lost,” Aiden heard himself saying, “Any idea how to get out of here?”
“Go straight on, turn left, then left again,” Toby said.
“Thanks,” Aiden said, smiling at him, for some unknown reason – maybe it was because he was smiling back. Aiden wasn’t very familiar with Toby: he was in the year above, and they’d had no real reason to come into contact before. He’d seen him around, and knew he was friends with Darren, but that was it.
The way he had given him directions was in a way that declared he wasn’t dumb, unlike the rest of them. He had known what he was doing, and seemed to get some pleasure out of Darren getting a little bit annoyed.
“I said, why are you here?” Darren asked again. He also threw in a few nicknames that must’ve craftily been thought up. They were so inventive.
“And I told you,” Aiden replied, edging out of the circle of thugs he was trapped in. Darren replied with a few threatening remarks, which Aiden chose to ignore.
“You’re such a bloody queer,” Darren spat. He edged up to Aiden, sparks flying through his yes, giving off a fiery signal of blood. Somehow, Aiden found himself cornered up against a brick wall. Darren and his ‘mates’ were spitting at him, surrounding him in a bubble. Darren shoved Aiden hard in the arm, bruising his shoulder. As his skin scraped against the hard wall, Aiden could feel the sharpness of the pain. He knew he was beginning to bleed, because he felt a sticky liquid running down his arm. The rebellious gang of teenagers were laughing. Darren looked around at them, amused. He was revelling in glory, and loved the attention. He grinned more, and shoved Aiden again.
This time Aiden was ready.
He quickly stepped to the side, leaving Darren’s fist pound into the wall. With bloody knuckles, Darren stumbled down. Aiden kicked him into his place on the floor. He went mad. Kicking, and shouting.
In shock, the other boys stared on at the scene, utterly bewildered. No one tried to stop him, even when Darren was screeching in pain and shouting for help. He became bloody very quickly. His blood-drenched clothing clung to him, as he made himself into a small ball on the floor.
“How do you like it, huh?” Aiden screamed, still in a mad fit.
“I’m sorry!” Darren cried, tears streaming down his scarlet cheeks.
“No you’re not,” Aiden stopped kicking him. “No you’re not,” he repeated. Darren was breathing deeply on the floor and didn’t have a clue what to say.
“I am,” he muttered, but Aiden shook his head. He took a step back and bumped into Toby, who was in total silence, like the rest of them.
“Sorry,” he muttered to Toby, whose eyes didn’t leave Aiden’s. Aiden turned and walked down the road, following Toby’s instructions. Behind him, he heard someone start to clap, slowly. It wasn’t a sarcastic clap, it seemed to mean something. Within seconds, another person joined in, and another, and another. Before long, there were claps and cheers coming from every angle.
Aiden never turned back. He didn’t know what the claps meant, or who they were coming from – but he had a pretty good idea. At least, he liked to think what they meant, because it meant that’d he won. Only for a little while, but still. For a short time, it would be over. His mind ticked over the previous night’s events, and waking up in Matt’s bed. Sure, it had ended badly, but the time before that was amazing.
Grinning, he sloped home. His smile wasn’t an obvious one, it was only just visible, but it was strong and significant. He smiled for the past, but more importantly, he smiled for the future.