Chapter 4

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, 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.

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I put my hand on his shoulder. He tensed and in an instant, turned and backhanded me, hard. The smacking sound resounded remarkably well in the hall. He looked at me with tears shining in his eyes, then turned and ran.

It felt like someone had just run over my heart with a semi truck.

I watched him run off through the crowd of students. My eyes didn't lose him, even among the dozens of students, until he turned around a corner. The minute I lost sight of him, I felt an urge to charge after him, but my body wouldn't go along with my minds plan.

"Hey, you ok?" someone asked.

"Yeah," I said, surprised to find my hand still on my face where Jase had hit me. "Yeah, I'm...I'm fine."

Slowly, my body started following my minds orders, and I trudged my way to class. I could feel a bubble of emotion rising in my gut, making my feel sick. I couldn't concentrate. None of my other classes mattered. The day passed in a blur. Nothing seemed to stick with me, other than the sharp, sudden pain and cracking sound of Jase's hand on my face.

Finally, the last bell of the day rang out. I was out in the hall in a flash, and was immediately looking for Jase. He wasn't that hard to miss, being the only other kid rushing around the school.

"Jase!" I yelled as he plowed into a group of kids. We were at opposite ends of a short hall, with a couple dozen kids between us. "Jase! Come on man, hold up!"

He didn't stop. He didn't slow down. He didn't look behind him. But I was catching up, which was all that really mattered. I felt we needed to have a serious talk, and the sooner, the better.

"Jase, stop!" I said, now only a few feet behind him with no one in-between. He kept going though, scanning the ceiling, no doubt looking for an exit.

"I told you to leave me alone," he said, his voice cold.

"We need to talk."

"There's nothing for us to talk about," he replied, turning to an exit door nobody used.

"Yes, there is."

He pushed the door open, slowing for a second. I could smell the freshly cut grass and pine needle scent wafting in.

"No, there isn't," he said, stepping through the door and trying to slam it shut behind him. I caught it, and followed him out.

"I'm going to talk to you, Jase," I said determinedly.

"I won't listen to anything you say," he retorted, his voice full of bitterness.

I made a snap decision and reached for his bag.

"Yes, you will," I pulled on his bag, hard. He, not expecting me to do that, fell backwards, landing sprawled on the ground a few feet behind me.

"What the fuck was that for?" he growled, getting to his feet but staying crouched, like he was going to pounce on me.

"We-need-to-talk," I told him, holding his angry stare.

"There's nothing you could say that would get me to forgive you."

I felt a wave of sadness wash over me.

"I don't need your forgiveness."

"Then what the hell do you want!"

He stood up, staring at me. His eyes were wet, tears welling up in them even though he was trying to hold them back.

"We need to talk," I said again as gently as possible. He lowered his head, and I saw the twinkle of a tear falling from his eyes. I moved closer to him and put my hands on his shoulders as he started to talk.

"No, we don't, Blake. You didn't acknowledge me after I told you. You left. End of story."

"That's not all of it," I said, my own tears forming, threatening to overwhelm me, "That's no were near all of it."

"What do you want me to say, Blake?" He looked into my eyes, his own red from the strain of holding back his tears. "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?"

"Jase-"

"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?" I asked, failing to interrupt him..

"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."

Tears were streaming down his face now. I was suddenly glad no one ever used that exit.

"Jase, I..."

I didn't know what to say, if there was anything I could possibly say. I felt like someone had just hit me with a freight train.

"Shut up Blake!" he yelled, tearing himself from my 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 was stunned. I hurt all over. He pushed past me, running. I fell to the ground, watching him go. I saw him crying, tears falling off his face as he ran. He didn't even look at me. I wanted him to. Maybe he would have seen the hurt look on my face.

I don't know how long I sat there, tears occasionally streaming down my face, but that's all I did. I sat, and thought. After a while, I got up, and started to walk, following some hidden path only my feet knew. I soon found myself in a small grove of pine trees on the edge of the schools campus. I came here all the time, to sit and eat lunch or do homework, or to just be alone. No one usually came out this far, so it was pretty much a private place for me.

I stood at the base of the largest tree. It was old, much older than the school. Probably the town even. I reached up and grabbed the lowest branch and pulled myself up, slowly climbing. I picked a big branch near the top to sit on, facing sun in the west.

"What happened back there?" I asked myself, "We were friends. I didn't mean to push him away. I didn't, I swear..."

I leaned back against the trunk of the old pine, enjoying the smells. I closed my eyes, wondering. I found myself analyzing the big events that had happened the year Jase came out to us. The year I moved...

* * * * * * * * * * *

Jase had told us about his sexual preference three months ago. After a few, minor scuffles with the extremist conservatives of our group of friends, things settled down, at least in side the school. There were still some problems with the parents, but nothing that couldn't be either ignored or taken care of at a slow pace.

But that wasn't important to me at the moment. I was fighting myself as to whether or not to tell the guys I was moving. It had become official last Friday. For a while before that, Dad had only said it was a possibility. Then, last Friday, he came home, humming happily, and declared at dinner that he had been promoted and was being transferred the next summer.

Now, I had to tell them. I felt like my mind was being torn to shreds. One half said just wait, the other said tell them.

I was sorta watching the guys talk and laugh. In the past few months, the number of cracks at gays had dropped off, since everyone took Jase's feelings into account. But they still laughed and teased with him. The new favorite was asking Jase what to get their girlfriends.

"I might be gay," Jase laughed, "but I'm still a guy."

So, there we all sat, them all laughing and joking. Me? Oh, I was sitting in my normal spot, twitching, trying to come to a decision. I put in my two cents when someone asked me a question, but otherwise, I kept quite. Jase kept looking at me though, concern and worry being obvious in his eyes.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.

"Guys," I said, my voice small and sad, even to me, I've got some...bad news"

"What?" the all seemed to ask in unison.

Even though it tore my heart to tell them, I said, "I'm moving," a brief look of intense agony passed over Jase's face, but it didn't register with me. "At the end of the year, we're moving."

"Where?" Devin asked, his normally happy demeanor dulled.

"West, somewhere," I replied, hanging my head. "Not sure where exactly."

I stared at my food for a little while to let everything sink in. Devin finally broke the silence.

"Well, guess we'll have to make do with the rest of the year, right?"

I shrugged my shoulders.

"Yeah, I guess so," I said, "you know I'll miss you guys, right?"

Everyone laughed, but with a notable sadness in it.

"Tell us at the end of the year, Blake," Devin laughed, smacking me hard in the back. "You'll still be here till then, right?"

I nodded my head, but said nothing. I could feel tears threatening, and didn't trust my voice not to crack. I scanned the friends that surrounded me, at let my eyes linger on Jase. He had a sad look on his face. It almost looked like he was trying to hold back tears.

"Alright guys, cheer up. We've still got the rest of the year to hang out with and annoy Blake, so lets make the most of it," Devin said, bringing everyone back into a less depressed mood. Even I laughed, if only a little.

Jase, on the other hand, hadn't moved. He just kept staring at his tray, with the look of forcing back tears splashed on his face.

It made me want to cry.

* * * * * * * * * * *

"I have to talk to him," I whispered to myself. Slowly, I started climbing down the pine refuge. I looked at my watched, and was surprised to see the that a couple hours had gone by. "I have to talk to him, now," I told myself again. Speaking it aloud seemed to make it more concrete.

But, where did he live?

That was easy. There was only one house for sale in the neighborhood, my neighborhood, that Jase ran into. It had to be there.

I took off, trying to come up with something to say to Jase. I wanted to apologize. But, how could I? After what I put him through, I didn't deserve to breath the same air as him, let alone be his friend.

My legs took me mechanically to the house. I don't know why, I'd never visited the place before. I was just...drawn to it.

I knocked on the door, not really knowing what to expect. I'd only met Jase's mom a couple times, and if Jase had told her what happened, she probably wouldn't even let me in.

But I couldn't think about that now. I had to talk to Jase. I had to talk to my old friend.

"Oh, hello," Jase's mom said as she opened the door, "can I help you?"

She had a sweet voice, like Jase's. Jase got a lot of his looks from his mom, which now that I think about it, makes him that much more attractive.

"Um, hi...is Jase home?" I asked her.

"Oh, yeah, he's up in his room," she looked me up and down, "you look familiar. Have we met?"

"Not in a while," I replied, "I use to go to school with Jase out east. So, I guess, um...welcome to town?"

"Oh, yeah..." she looked at me thoughtfully for a few seconds, "I remember you now. You're Blake, right?"

I nodded my head.

"Well, come on in then. I'll take you up to Jase's room."

She took me into the house. It still had the look of being arranged. Boxes were still stacked here and there.

Then, we were at the stairs.

My heart raced.

Jase's mom stopped outside of the only closed door on the second floor. A "do not disturb" sign hung on the door.

She knocked.

"Jase?" she called gently.

"What mom?" Jase's voice called back, with a noticeable grogginess to it.

"There's someone here to see you."

A short silence, then, "Who is it?"

I cleared my throat. Now or never, I told myself.

"It's me, Blake," I yelled through the door. Another pause.

"Come in," he called.

I turned he handle and pushed the door open. Jase's mom looked between us, then turned and walked away. I slowly closed the door behind me and stood there, looking at the boy I hoped to repair a friendship with. He must have just woken up. He had that dazed look to him. I felt a strong urge to rush over to him and hug him. But, I stopped myself. Even though his eyes were sleepy and sad, they still held a fierce reserve of pride and pain.

Instead, I stared into his eyes and asked, "You ready to talk now?"

He looked at me, a weird mix of expressions on his face.

It was going to be a long evening.

Stay on the look out for the next chapter of Killing Loneliness