No one, not the teachers or Mr. Holden, the guidance counselor, could figure out why Seth stopped talking since senior year started. Most of them had given up too, because what did it matter if Seth kept his grades up?
Graduation was close. Seth wouldn’t be the school’s problem anymore. During one of Seth’s sessions with Mr. Holden, he’d pressed his ear against the door, unsurprised to hear nothing but silence.
Maybe Mr. Holden wrote Seth off as a lost cause too, but Zack would never do that.
“How're things at home?” Zack asked.
When they first met in the waiting area of the guidance counselor’s office two years ago, talking to Seth was similar to having a conversation with a wall. Until Zack did a little show-and-tell. Zack lifted up his sleeves to show the purple, black and blue as if to say, look, we’re the same, you and I.
Seth tugged at the loose sleeves of his hoodie, a reflex action Zack noticed he always resorted to.
“That bad, huh?” Zack reached forward.
Seth began to move away but Zack was quicker. In seconds, he shoved one sleeve up, expecting more or less the same, but he swore. Not many would recognize the twin perfect circles on the inside of Seth’s sleeve, but he did. Seth punched him. Zack barely felt the blow but he released Seth.
Zack clenched his jaw. A red haze clouded his mind and he hadn’t been aware of grinding his teeth until Seth punched him again. He blinked. Seth picked up his notebook and pen again.
Why do you keep bothering me?
“Because I’m your only friend?”
Seth glared at him, then wrote again.
I don’t have friends, neither do you.
Zack clutched at his heart and pretended to look hurt as if discovering those fucking cigarette burns didn’t matter. No one cared about guys like him and Seth. Seth wasn’t that good an actor.
Everyone got sloppy or had bad days. One way or another, some student or teacher would have seen the bruises, the fading black eye, the limp. When evil stared one point-blank in the face, people have a tendency to laugh it off and call it a figment of the imagination.
Wave a fucking magic wand and the horrible thing disappears.
Personal experience taught Zack long ago that the heroes in the comic books he used to worship didn’t exist. People made their own choices. Anger at Seth’s stepfather continued to be a living poison, slowly eating at him, even the good parts until there was nothing left.
The door opened. How much time had passed?
Seth shoved his pen and notebook in his bag. Zack knew that meant the end of their conversation but Seth paused by the door, troubled look on his face. Then Seth strode to him, fisted his shirt and pressed his lips to ear. A shiver crawled down his spine.
For some unexplainable reason, his heart started to race. Until Zack met Seth, he didn’t know he was gay. He’d banged a few girls, bitches who only wanted him because of his bad boy persona. To them, he’d been a flavor of the week, exciting to fuck with, but not good enough for anything else. Zack always felt dirty after. Being with Seth, though, felt like he’d been transported away from the ugly reality he hated.
Seth made his palms sweat, his heart hammer. Sometimes being around Seth made his chest constrict. He kept envisioning how Seth would react if one day he tipped Seth’s chin and slanted his mouth over Seth’s for a kiss. That way, he’d make them both forget about their problems.
Too bad when it came to Seth, Zack was a coward.
Seth’s stepfather, Roy, though, was a problem Zack needed to eliminate.
Roy didn’t just reduce Seth to a punching bag, he’d stolen Seth’s voice too. What Zack would give for Seth to yell at him again, to fling curses at him, but during rare moments, Seth could be a softie too.
When it comes to you, I don’t know why I act different. Those had been the last real words Seth ever said to him.
Less than ten minutes later, the door opened and Seth emerged.
“Seth,” he called out.
Zack thought Seth would ignore him again, but the other boy looked at him.
He said, “If the silence becomes too unbearable, then scream your fucking lungs out until it hurts to breathe. I’ll come running to you.”
End of sample chapter
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His Brand of Love Page 14