“Understand why, what?”
“Henry. I know all about it.”
“Know about what?”
“Do I have to spell it out?”
“Yes, because I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”
“O.K.” Ellen took a second to be serious. “I know.”
“What do you know?”
“Why didn’t you tell me Henry? Didn’t you think I’d understand?”
At that point Henry had given up. “Understand what?”
“The fact that you were gay.”
“What?! I was never gay.”
“Oh sorry. You’re right. The fact that you had relations with another man, Henry, I found out about it tonight at our moon meeting. I was a little shocked.”
“Oh my God.”
“No, no.” Ellen sat up “Don’t worry. I’m O.K. with it.”
“El, I never . . .”
“I was a bit surprised to find out you were once in love with Frank.”
“Oh my God!” Henry stood up quickly. “The women told you this? Why?”
“Because it’s true.”
“No it is not!” Henry’s hand went immediately through his hair. “They all think this?” He began to pace in circles. “They thought I was in love with Frank? El, I love Frank . . . stop laughing, but not like that. Trust me, if I were ever to be intimate with any man, the thought of it being Frank would never cross my mind. That’s, that’s . . . that’s really scary.” Henry fell down in shock to the bed. “And you believed this?”
“Oh sure Henry, why wouldn’t I?”
Stunned, Henry’s wide eyes shifted to Ellen. “Well, you, I, uh . . . you should know me better.” Henry seemed so offended at her.
“But you’re so sensitive, Henry.”
“El!”
She giggled and edged her way to him. “I’m glad that was untrue. I really am. Of course when they told me, I was eating, and I started to choke.”
“Really choke?”
“Oh sure and my face turned blue. I looked like something from Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory. What was her name?”
“The spoiled rich girl?” Henry looked up to the ceiling, a thinking face perched upon his face. “Pamela.”
“No Henry, wasn’t it Amanda?”
“Come to think of it El, was it a normal name?”
“No it wasn’t. I can still see her wearing that fur coat. Didn’t it begin with a ‘P’?”
“I think so.” Henry moved even closer to Ellen. “I just know this is going to bother me all night.”
“We’ll figure it out Henry. Oh . . .” She snapped her fingers. “I know, I have that movie in a box over at Frank’s.” She swept her legs over the side of the bed. “Let’s go over there and watch it and really drive Frank’s nuts.” She nodded. “Want to?”
“El I don’t think . . .”
“Come on Henry, you don’t have to even get dressed.” She hurried to the door. “What’s wrong?”
Henry raced quickly through his mind what Frank was doing when he left. He didn’t need for Ellen to catch him still scrubbing that carpet. “El, um, go on down, I’ll be right there.”
“Don’t change, Henry. It’ll be funny watching Frank’s expression when you show up in your underwear to watch that movie.” She reached out and grabbed Henry’s hand “Come on unless you don’t think he wants to be bothered.”
“Come to think of it, El, us going over there might be just what Frank needs.” Henry pulled his hand from hers and went to his dresser. Not to throw on pants, he really didn’t care if he wore those, but to check his hair. He could go out of his house without pants, but with messy hair . . . never.
Walking to Frank’s house, Ellen and Henry had to pass by Dean’s. Holding Ellen’s hand, Henry felt her slow down and then stop. “What is it?”
Ellen looked up to the second floor of Dean’s house. “He’s still up.”
“Is that wrong?”
“It’s just late for Dean that’s all.” Ellen shrugged, and continued walking to Frank’s.
<><><><>
His bent legs were brought directly to his chest as Dean sat on his bed. His arms around his legs, his forehead pressed tightly to his knees as he rocked back and forth.
The pain, the pain would not go away or even let up. He could feel the sweat that came from his face drip down across his legs. Nothing he had taken had even put a dent in the suffering he was experiencing nor did Dean think it would. The sharp searing pain spun around his head, encircling it with a pressure that felt like a band tightening with each passing second. In a sitting fetal position, he stayed atop his bed, knowing that sleep would not come for him on this night. A part of Dean was afraid to sleep even though he knew it was going to end up being the longest night of his life. Dean felt so sick. He wondered if he’d even make it through the night. He felt for certain . . . he was dying.
<><><><>
NEXT: Blink of an Eye
On Facebook? Join our Beginnings’ Series Group for fun talk, free giveaways and sneak peeks.
The Inner Struggle: Beginnings Series Book 7 Page 50