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The Bright Side Brigade

Page 6

by Elaine White


  “Ooh, me!” He practically bounced over to Javon, kissed his cheek and then dragged him to sit on the bed.

  Watching them, Alvin managed a smile and shook his head at the offered treat. He had way too much to do to have a break for ice cream. But, maybe...maybe one day soon...he'd make time for it. And he could share it with someone who wasn't his brother. If he could manage to get his head out of his ass long enough to figure out just what it was he wanted, and how he was going to go about getting it.

  Because, Tracy was right. He wasn't made of stone. And it was probably time for him to prove it.

  The End

  Lost in a Dream

  Chapter 1

  The first night of the carnival was supposed to be fun and full of excitement, a Friday night full of games and prizes and frivolity. Instead, with his friends unable to make it due to some big RPG game, Sterling felt like a second rate citizen.

  “How many tokens?”

  Sterling blinked and came out of his thoughts again, to look up at the man behind the stall. Sixteen, with beautiful Asian features, the ease of Kenichi's smile and the slightly cheeky glint of his eyes made him nervous. It felt like his school friend knew something he didn't and that was never comforting.

  “Um, just one, please.” He put on a smile and dug a few coins from his jean pocket to hand over in payment.

  “Here you go.” Kenichi slid a silver token across the counter. “Make it count,” he advised.

  He nodded his thanks and took the token, before backing away from the small stall. He had to walk around to the other side of it to find the machine. It was the same height as the stall, which had a side exit, but the swirling colours inside the glass case, surrounding a crystal ball that reflected the light, was the main feature.

  Wishes didn't come true. Sterling knew that on an academic level. He wasn't a straight-A student for no reason; maths, literature and chemistry were his strong points. He had enough logic and reasoning from those elements to know this was pointless.

  But what else could he do? He was sixteen, with an ever growing crush on a guy who didn't know he existed. The last time he'd seen Fearghas in person, he'd been gloating about his recent tennis victory and flirting with the head cheerleader of the football team. A gorgeous blonde, with legs that went on for miles, Deryn was one of those fantasy girls; smart, beautiful and talented. She was also a really nice person and not the bitch that most people expected her to be.

  Sterling wished she was. Maybe then he wouldn't have to spend every day of his school life standing by his locker, just two spots away from Fearghas', only to watch the two drooling over each other. They weren't dating, because that would be too much of a fairytale story. Whenever anyone asked, Fearghas said he was focusing on his academic goals, to maintain a B average, so that he could get into college with or without a sports scholarship.

  Having dreams like that, and maintaining goals, was one of the things Sterling loved most about Fearghas. That and his stunning Scottish heritage, displayed in that typical way the Yanks portrayed it in movies. Ginger hair, with startling green eyes, freckles on both cheeks with a smattering over his nose, tall and lean; he even had the thick Glaswegian accent. All of it was like honey to the bee. Sterling couldn't resist.

  He turned the token in his hands, staring at the rotating lights. It looked so fake. A fake crystal ball that happened to reflect the light, just because it was a sphere of glass. It wasn't magical or capable of granting his wish, but God he really wanted it to.

  Being alone sucked.

  “'Scuse me?”

  Sterling turned and offered a smile to the girl who must only have been around fourteen. She was the complete opposite of him, natural olive skin that only accentuated her pitch black pigtails. He could only imagine that the light of the machine made him look even more lily white and probably drowned out his pale sapphire blue eyes entirely.

  “Are you going to use your token?” she asked, gesturing to the machine.

  “Um,” Sterling looked at the lights, then the girl and took a step back, “I haven't decided yet. Please, go ahead.” It was rude to hold up the queue, just because he couldn't make up his mind. Rude and stupid.

  The girl grinned and stepped forward, while he tried to pretend he wasn't eavesdropping. Holding the token to her chest with both hands, she closed her eyes and whispered, “I wish my dance team could win the championship next weekend.” Then, opening her eyes, she slotted the token into the machine. When she closed her eyes again, he assumed she was repeating her wish, since the sign clearly stated it had to be spoken after the token was inserted.

  That was the part he didn't understand. Why did it matter when he asked for his wish, if the machine was truly that magical?

  Three more people walked up and made their wishes, but there was no reaction from the crystal ball or the lights. Everything was perfectly normal, the way it was for everyone who stepped forward. Sterling saw nothing to prove that this machine could do magic or could actually make his wish come true. Yet, his granddad swore by it. He said the last time a carnival had run through town, nearly four decades ago, he'd made a wish on a similar, if not the same, machine and had it come true.

  Did he believe him and take a risk on something that might not work? Or did he decide not to bother and laugh it off?

  Sitting under a tree, Sterling couldn't take his eyes off the machine. He twirled the token over and over between his fingers, calculating the odds, the risks and the possible outcomes.

  None of it resulted in his wish coming true.

  If he did this, it would be a massive leap of faith.

  Faith vs logic. It would be the leap of a century, but Sterling was willing to try. He'd spent so long crushing on Fearghas that he had no other dream but finally being noticed by him. Miracles weren't on the table, even if this magical machine worked. He didn't want a relationship or some epic love scene, just for Fearghas to finally see him as a real person. To see him, to acknowledge him and to realise that Sterling was real.

  Closing his eyes, he closed his fist over the token and made a wish. He wouldn't gamble on a machine to give him a dream.

  It was early evening, already getting unusually dark and the stars were out, somehow. Something about this night felt wrong. Different. But he wasn't leaving here until he'd made his wish. So he held that token and he thought about what he wanted and why.

  Fearghas was brilliant. So funny and clever, with a similar taste in literature and music as Sterling. He knew, because he'd kept his eyes and ears open, during the long years they'd known each other. For such a long time, they'd been sitting next to each other in every class. They'd spent five years, as children, in the Scouts together. Building forts, fires and travelling through the woods, they'd bonded as casual friends.

  Back then, Fearghas had talked to him like a friend. They'd shared stories around a camp fire, trusted each other and shared small details of their lives. But that had been nearly four years ago and they hadn't parted on the best of terms.

  Sterling had been outed as gay when he was just twelve, because of his crush on Fearghas. His Scout brothers had disowned him, said they couldn't trust him, and his parents had decided it was safer to extract him from the Scouts than risk his brothers beating him up, just because of who he was.

  Fearghas had never forgiven him. The minute they entered high school, he blanked Sterling and acted as though they'd never seen each other before. It hurt, because he'd been stupid enough to believe they were friends. But it never stopped his crush. Nothing could. Lord knew he'd tried; dating someone else, coming out by choice, even trying his hardest to hate Fearghas. None of it worked.

  It was time to try something new.

  If he couldn't forget, move on or hate Fearghas, maybe he could make the next two years of school together slightly more bearable. If he could just open a line of communication between them, maybe he could remove this burning, sinking self-loathing that bubbled at the pit of his stomach. The self-hate fo
r being gay that he'd harboured for nearly a year after he was outed to the Scouts, and the wish that he'd never met Fearghas, could all go away.

  Only if he sucked up his regrets and did something about it, for once.

  Pulling the token to his chest, he watched the machine ahead of him. There was no queue, it was quiet and the lights swirled the same way they had until now. He kept his eyes open, discounting the logic and reason that told him he was being an idiot.

  “I wish that Fearghas could finally see me. I wish he would get over his hate for me and that, even if all he does is nod hello once in a while, I won't have to feel like this anymore. I don't want to be ignored by the one man–”

  He stopped and changed his mind. He stared ahead at the lights and watched them begin to swirl a little faster than before. “Stuff it.” Sterling decided to go for it. He had to do something for himself. Something that would make him happy rather than just a little less miserable.

  “Alright machine...do your worst,” he said, turning the token again. He held it up in front of him, in his eye line and directly in front of the crystal ball ahead of him. “I wish for the man of my dreams. For a man who can see me, love me and who would never ignore me.”

  The lights began to go crazy; twisting and creating new colours, until it became blinding. Sterling lifted his hand to shield his eyes, not sure what was happening, but pretty sure that he'd either gone mad or the impossible had actually happened.

  Chapter 2

  Blinking rapidly, Sterling wasn't sure what he'd done except that he'd possibly cracked his head on the tree behind him. But when he reached back to check for a wound, he felt strangely weighted down and slow to move.

  That was when he panicked, as he realised he was surrounded by water. Sterling tried to push the water away, to swim to the surface, but the back of his head hurt and he wasn't sure what was going on.

  The water rippled around him, as though there was something else in the water, pushing him one way then the other. He was so stunned from whatever had hurt his head, and caught off guard by not knowing what was happening, that he didn't know what to do with himself.

  He tried to shout for help, but only succeeded in almost drowning himself, as water rushed into his lungs. Stretching his arm out, in an attempt to be seen, he spluttered out all the water he could, without inhaling any more. It was difficult, but he wasn't going to let himself drown if he could help it.

  Just as the pressure grew too much and Sterling thought he might pass out and sink to his death, something burst into the water, throwing him back with the force of the waves it created. He tried to hold his breath and squint through the foggy lake water, but his eyes popped open in shock as he saw Fearghas swimming towards him.

  Fully clothed, a look of sheer panic and determination on his face, there was no mistaking who it really was. His dark hair weaved through the water as he forced himself forward. Familiar hands grabbed his waist, as strong legs kicked the water aside until Fearghas was behind him. Then, with an arm around his chest, he was dragged to the surface with powerful, controlled kicks.

  As they broke through, a riot of concerned voices made it through Sterling's foggy brain. Someone shouted for towels and another person called for a doctor, while Fearghas pulled him up onto the pier and lay him down.

  “Give him CPR,” a voice shouted from nearby, as Fearghas knelt beside him, coughing up water.

  “Someone call an ambulance.”

  “Get a towel or something, for Christ's sake.”

  “Is there a doctor here?”

  There were so many voices that Sterling's head pounded, but he managed to force himself onto his side and cough up water. A cold, wet hand landed on the back of his neck as another reached around and pressed to his chest, supporting him as he was tipped forward a little more, to make sure he got it all up.

  While being slowly lowered onto his back again, he thought he'd look up and find a security guard or a doctor sitting over him. Instead, Fearghas stared down at him with a hint of confusion.

  A feeling he was growing all too familiar with.

  “Um...t-t-thanks,” he said, beginning to shiver and shake, from the cold water.

  Just as his crush opened his mouth, an older man rushed over and pushed Fearghas aside, laying a blanket around Sterling and muttering about first aid, as though he was trying to remind himself of what needed done.

  Lying there, he let it all wash over him. He couldn't look away from Fearghas, who seemed to be staring back at him with as much surprise and intensity. Even as he was slowly helped to his feet and led out of the fairground towards a waiting ambulance, Sterling couldn't stop seeing that look, even when Fearghas himself was long gone.

  What did it mean?

  And how the hell had he ended up in the water?

  Confusion crashed through his heart and mind, until he willingly sank onto the stretcher in the ambulance. He wasn't going to take any chances. He'd likely hit his head, nearly drowned and hallucinated Fearghas being there, so he'd let himself be bundled off to the hospital and taken care of. It was the sensible thing to do.

  Just as the paramedic was securing the strap across his legs, saying something about safety and a bumpy ride ahead, there was a metallic clink nearby. Sterling frowned, wondering what it was and could only gasp as the paramedic straightened up with his token between two fingers.

  “This yours?” he asked, with a bemused smile.

  Sterling nodded and tentatively reached for it. “I was going to make a wish. Even if it's not real, it's worth a shot, right?” he asked, wondering if he was being stupid and naïve to think that.

  The paramedic's smile turned softer and much more understanding. “Yeah. A long shot is better than no shot, huh?” he agreed.

  All he could do was nod and wonder. Why was the token bone dry? Why did it have a strange shine to it that suggested it was brand new, when he clearly remembered a beat up, tarnished silver on the one he'd been toying with? Did that mean this wasn't his token? And, if so, who did it belong to? And what was their wish?

  The emergency room was jam packed and loud. Sterling tried to close his eyes a couple of times, but the paramedics waiting to pass him onto a nurse or doctor kept waking him up and warning him about a possible concussion.

  He caught a few whispers, when they thought he wasn't paying attention.

  “And remember the risk from lack of oxygen–”

  “–that guy really said no one saw him go under?”

  “Yeah. Claimed it was like he'd appeared out of the water, rather than that he'd actually fallen in–”

  “–lucky he's not dead. Ignorant sods, not paying attention, like that.”

  “Too busy selling tickets to keep an eye on the ones he's already sold.”

  Not much about that made sense to Sterling, except that it appeared he'd been in the water a long time, or had gone in quietly, so much so that no one had noticed him falling in.

  God, the paramedic was right. He was damned lucky that he wasn't dead right now. What had made him go into the water? Had he dropped something and been stupid enough to go in after it and bang his head on the bottom of a boat? Had he slipped and fallen, so in shock about it that he hadn't called out? Had he hit his head first and stumbled into the water by accident? Or maybe crawled or rolled in, while looking for help?

  It was so infuriating not to know.

  The paramedic who had spoken to him in the ambulance nodded towards someone, intriguing Sterling enough to follow his gaze.

  Fearghas approached them tentatively. “Um, hey. I'm...em...his brother. I stayed behind to make sure his stuff was safe,” he said, nodding towards Sterling nervously, as he twirled a phone in his hand.

  “Brother?” one paramedic asked, clearly questioning the fact that Fearghas was a natural ginger, while Sterling had exceedingly dark brown hair that was as close to black as it could get without actually being the colour.

  When the paramedic looked his way, Sterling forced a smi
le. “I dye mine. I went through a Goth phase,” he lied, intrigued to find out why Fearghas was also lying. He was one of those proper, good boys, who always called authority figures sir or ma'am, but hadn't done it on this occasion. He never lied, so why start now, just to get close to Sterling?

  The other paramedic laughed and gave his shoulder a nudge. “You're just loving pushing those boundaries, huh? First the token, then the hair,” he teased, good-naturedly.

  “You know it.”

  Was he? Heck, he'd never done anything reckless or stupid in his life. And Goth? God, no. He was a teeny bopping pop geek, who loved comics, bright colours and maths. He knew nothing about being a Goth.

  But, it seemed to work.

  “We'll give you a minute, now that the desk is free,” the first paramedic said, nodding towards the dwindling queue at the reception desk. Since he wasn't a top priority, considering some patients were bleeding profusely or screaming in pain, he'd agreed to hang back for a while until the nurses were free.

  Now, he offered them a grateful smile and waited until they were out of earshot before beckoning Fearghas closer. “What are you doing here? You're going to get in trouble,” he whispered, worried that his parents would arrive or someone would find out they weren't brothers.

  And, really, couldn't he have said boyfriends? Was the world really too cruel to give him that? No, Fearghas had to claim he was a relation. Someone he definitely couldn't kiss, then claim he'd been delirious and apologise for it later.

  “I just...figured you were on your own, so I'd...bring your stuff,” he explained, handing over his phone and a set of keys. When he placed a worn old token onto Sterling's palm, he looked up in surprise. Fearghas shrugged. “I found it by your phone. Figured you might want to keep it. I lost mine, somehow,” he admitted, with an adorable frown.

 

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