This story describes the relationship and love life of two underage fictional boys. Any likeness between the characters of this story and real people are purely coincidental. If it is not legal to view this type of material in your area, or you are not 18 years of age, read at your own risk. All material pertaining to this story is copyrighted to the author. Do not repost without permission.
Feedback is welcome, so please email me at email@example.com. Flamers will be ignored.
Thanks again to all those who've written. I've gotten quite a few good reviews, and some good suggestions. I have received some concerns about the writing style though. Some are concerned/frustrated that the story is not progressing fast because I'm overlapping the boys perspectives so much. Understand that these first few chapters are going to be like that. But, as the story goes on, the events and dialog will overlap less and less.
Thanks again to those who've written!
Previously in Killing Loneliness:
He put his hand on my shoulder. I couldn't stop my self. I swung around and backhanded him. The noise echoed through the hall, which dimly registered as funny to my traumatized brain.
"Leave me alone," I whispered.
I saw the hurt look in his face.
My heart crumbled.
The rest of school passed pretty fast. It was obvious from the looks the other kids gave me that they had heard about what had happened between Blake an me. They left me alone, which I was thankful for. But soon, the safety of classes ended, and I had to make my way home.
I wasn't very optimistic about my chances of not running into Blake. Sure enough...
He was behind me, at the other end of a short hall. Dozens of student's stood between him and me.
"Jase! Come on man, hold up!"
He was getting closer. How he could move so fast through that crowd, I`ll never know. I tried to go faster, but there were just to many people.
He was only a few feet away now. No body stood between the two of us as we continued down the hall.
"I told you to leave me alone," I said, not looking at him.
"We need to talk," he said simply.
"There's nothing for us to talk about," I replied, following a green exit sign to a door.
"Yes, there is."
I pushed the door open. A gently breeze came through it, carrying the scent of pine needles and freshly cut grass.
"No, there isn't," I stepped out the door. He followed.
"I'm going to talk to you, Jase," he said, walking a pace behind me.
"I won't listen to anything you say," I replied bitterly.
"Yes, you will."
He grabbed my backpack and yanked me back, sending me sprawling on the ground.
"What the fuck was that for?" I asked angrily, getting to my knee, ready to spring at him.
"We-need-to-talk," he said, enunciating every word.
"There is nothing you could say that would get me to forgive you."
"I don't need you to forgive me."
"Then what the hell do you want?"
I got to my feet, staring at him. I felt tears in my eyes.
"We need to talk," he said, gently. I lowered my head, letting the tears drip off my face.
"No, Blake, we don't," I said, even as I felt his hands on my shoulders, a touch I'd longed to feel for years. "You didn't acknowledge me after I told you. You left. End of story."
"That's not all of it," he squeezed my shoulders. "That's no were near all of it."
"What do you want me to say, Blake?" I asked, looking him in the eyes. There was a deep sadness in them, and an odd mix of pain and anguish. "You want me to tell you that it's all okay, that there was never a spot for you in my heart? Is that what you want to hear? Is it?"
"No, Blake. I don't care what you're going to say. You hurt me worse than anyone else. You didn't just leave, didn't just get up and move to a different table, you-"
"Is this all because I moved?" he asked. I ignored the question.
"You stayed there. It wouldn't have been as bad if you had said you hated me. It wouldn't have hurt as much if you'd beat me till I passed out."
I could feel the tears steaming down my face. Thankfully, it was just the two of us. No one apparently used that particular exit.
He looked hurt, like someone had just punched him in the gut.
"Shut up Blake!" I yelled, pulling myself out of his grasp. "Don't fucking say you're sorry. It wont cut it. You could have said something, Blake, anything at all. But no, you just up and ignored me. Worse than that, you shut me out! You shut me out as a friend and as a person for a whole god damn year, and then you fucking move! Do you have any idea how all that made me feel? NO, because you wouldn't come to terms with your own damn feelings."
I shoved him out of my way and ran. I didn't notice him hit the ground and sit there, stunned. I didn't notice the tears in his eyes. I didn't notice the pained look on his face, or the anguish in his eyes.
Severe depression is another one of those emotions that makes time get screwy, especially when you're going somewhere. Normally, it would have taken me half an hour to walk home. I took me ten to run it.
"Jase, is that you dear" I heard my mom call from the kitchen.
"Yes," I yelled as lightly as I could manage, but I was still out of breath.
"You okay? You sound out of breath."
"I'm fine mom," I replied, "I'll be in my room if you need me."
I closed my door behind me as I entered my room. All these years, and here he was. That boy I thought I'd never see again was here, and he was breaking my heart all over again.
I threw myself on my bed and buried my head in a pillow. I let the tears flow. They'd always been there, I knew. Two years isn't a lot of time. The scars, that were just healing, were now slashed wide open again...
* * * * * * * * * *
It had been three months since I'd told everyone I was gay. Most of the guys took it pretty well, though now when they asked me my opinion of the girl they were going after they asked it like I thought like a girl.
"I might be gay," I said, laughing with them, "but I'm still a guy."
It was a small joke that kept our spirits up. Two or three of the guys had totally opposed my sitting with them, but they were made to leave. Even 11 and 12 year olds have a political system within their circle of friends, even if none of the adults realized it. Since most of my friends valued me on my personality, they accepted me, though I noticed a severe drop in the number of gay jokes told in my presence.
But Blake was another story. He had said nothing. Done nothing. I was still there, yet he had seemingly shut me out. He still laughed and talked with us, but I couldn't connect with him anymore. It's like he was a man who was just condemned to the electric chair. Why? I kept asking myself. I got the answer at lunch, almost three month to the day after I'd told him I was gay.
"Guys," he said quietly one day, "I've got some...bad news."
"What?" we all asked. Blake sounded very serious, and very sad. Even his eyes showed it.
"I'm moving," I could hear people gasp, "at the end of the year, we're moving."
I felt my heart disintegrate. I wanted to tell him how I felt, but he never let me close enough.
"Where?" Devin asked, his normally happy sounding voice dulled a little.
"West, somewhere. Not sure where exactly."
"Well," Devin said, after a short silence, "guess we'll have to make do with the rest of the year, right?"
"Yeah, I guess so," Blake said, hanging his head, "you know I'll miss you guys, right?"
We all laughed, but it was a notably sad sound.
"Tell us at the end of the years, Blake," Devin said, smacking him on the back, "you'll still be here till then, right?"
Blake didn't say anything. He just nodded his head, then looked at us, a grim smile on his face. His eyes lingered on me the longest. It was a sad look. There was something there that I couldn't place, but whatever it was, it made me want to cry.
"Alright guys, cheer up," Devin laughed, stirring everyone out of their depression. "We've still got the rest of the year to hang out with and annoy Blake, so lets make the most of it."
Blake rolled his eyes, and everyone laughed.
Everyone but me.
I was still trying not to cry.
* * * * * * * * * *
My mom was knocking on my door. I rolled over and looked out the window. I guess I'd fallen asleep, because the sun was much lower in the sky.
"What mom?" I replied groggily. Yep, I fell asleep alright.
"There's someone here to see you," she said.
Crap. Not what I wanted.
"Who is it?" I called, still starring out the window.
"It's me, Blake," another voice called. Crap. Bad days never get better till you go to sleep.
"Come on in," I said, my voice taking a hard edge.
The door opened, and there he was. My mom was smiling at the two of us, then turned and walked away. Blake shut the door behind him and stood there. I sat expectantly, waiting.
"You ready to talk now?"
Stay on the look out for the next chapter of Killing Loneliness