I honestly didn't think this story would begin to materialize so fast, and I still have a lot of things to think about, but anyway I still give you a new Jaylos story with the inclusion of some OCs that don't have so much relevance in this, thing is that they're somehow necessary for certain things to happen, I hope you like it.
Besides I don't promise to give updates every week or on a specific day, I will do them when each chapter is ready. Needless to say, fav, follow or review, enjoy :)
Welcome to my life
Blink. Blink again. Do it one more time. Then another. One more. Well, one of the things that someone can't stop doing even if they wanted to. Like breathing, though I'm not the kind of person who dreams of quitting doing so.
I look up from the computer over my chest and become aware of what I'm doing, and also of what I'm not doing, lying on the couch, half watching a movie that calls itself 'terror' while I'm looking out of the window, the starry sky and full moon seem to have decided to shine a little more tonight. If the little door to the roof wasn't locked then I'd be watching them for hours until I heard dad's voice calling me from the third floor, or to that small, annoying ballast that calls himself as my younger brother, younger saying sixteen, asking me to do something that his laziness doesn't allow him to.
I really hate apartment complexes, there are very few options for space or things to do in such a confined space, but dad's salary isn't enough for us to get a house, besides there would be only three people living there, and the couch almost has my silhouette more than remarked by spending almost three quarters of the summer vacation thrown on it without much to do except look inside my small and not-at-all fancy bookshelf to read again whatever they have to say. I have taken over the stupidly comfortable couch.
"Yeah, work. That's what I should have been looking for in all this free time" I say out loud, not expecting any kind of response since I'm alone, and if I had received one I would have set the whole place on fire since it's not the first time I think something else lives in here. I still have the theory that somebody died inside these walls and at any moment it will decide to kill us while we sleep.
Instead of continuing to think about it I roll over my right side, trying to pay attention to what happens on the flat screen embedded on the wall, although I'm still a little tucked into my thoughts. And hungry, I'm starving even though I had finished dinner no more than twenty minutes ago.
I get up and drag my bare feet into the kitchen, the next room, the change of temperature between the warm carpet in the living room and the cool tiles that resemble wood-illustrated stamps that adorn the rest of the apartment send a chill through all my skin.
I open the cupboards for the thousandth time in all day long and take out the first thing my memory recalls that is at first reach, a box with seed bars with a chocolate base. Somewhat grotesque for dad by the looks, Joel would take only the naturist part since he has a style much more hippie and ragged than mine, always looking for the most natural and expensive things there may be, but they are the only thing I dedicate myself to look for more in the visits to the supermarket.
I take three, open one and pull it out of the package holding it with my lips, taking a bite and holding it there while I return to the couch, which seems to signal me to not walk away again until the next school period begins.
Jafar, Jay and Joel, I don't quite understand dad's penchant for the initial letter, I suppose it has something to do with 'the raw, laborious and somehow sad life' he had as a child, or maybe it has something to do with our stranger mother. Joel and I are the children of the same mother, and we don't know anything about her anyway, not even the name, and it's not like if we wanted to ask dad about it unless we wanted to see him drunk on the two-seater couch, one less than mine's, and leaving aside another job that 'so much' it cost him to get. The advantage of plunging him into those states is that he literally gives away to us the money he reluctantly gives for school expenses or hanging out with friends.
In contrast the only thing I've been doing all this time has been 'recovering all the energy I lost during school day's' and thinking about the hundreds of things I could be doing if I did something that paid for it, a job as dad suggested earlier in the day for vacations to start. Something that seems ironic is that I am someone energetic enough to play high-performance sports, but lazy enough to wander around looking for a job all over the town, with a pile of applications prepared under my arm.
It will be another boring vacation period without anything important to come, as it usually happens to me. Also I'm sure there are better ways to spend a Friday night, that without considering that next Monday I will go back to school.
I finish with the second bar, something I hadn't noticed, before opening the third one and put the computer back on my chest, seeing on Facebook a lot of videos that make me laugh for things that would be considered stupid, like the misfortune of others, brutal and graceful falls, and even cats that get the scare of their lives, almost to the point of causing me to choke with the pieces of seeds and chocolate I didn't chew or swallow completely. That's another thing that adds to my leisure for vacations, spending long hours or all day long in that infernal social network, being it on my phone or on the computer, but it's something that I have simply implemented in me and that, without it, I probably would stare at the ceiling, waiting for something good to happen. Besides it's also the most direct way I have to talk to my circle of friends since I hate phone calls or those long text messages.
I appreciate doing sports constantly, otherwise I would be a total lazy dude in the same style of Joel, although strangely he's not obese, something that doesn't make much sense if I consider his love for sweet bread, 'naturist' pizza that drips fat, among other things. Maybe that little girlfriend of his makes him to work out, using the word in a double sense, though we've never talked about it, or anything.
Dad has made sure that his greatest teaching for us is to live as solitary wolves, independent people, each one of us by his side. His mantra and that of our little family is simple: there's no team in I; with that in mind I can explain the reason why Joel and I don't talk so much, except when he tells me about the occasions when he gets drunk a little with his friends stuff like that. That's how he is with me, but with dad it's with whom he exchanges almost everything that happens to him, how he feels and those things that he must consider to be boring; they're attached to such a point that Joel sleeps with him, something he has done always because, when he was six years old, I might have made him believe dad was going to abandon us given that he used to be late from work, Joel cried and asked for him every two minutes, to which I responded enraged: 'He'll never come back! He's gone because of you!'. I take all the blame, though now he's a slightly tough dude.
I move my look towards the flat screen, avoiding think/laugh at the cruelty committed against my poor little brother, watching the right moment when a girl gets stabbed in the back, she drags herself an inch before her hair gets pulled backwards and the killer draws a smile on her throat with a kitchen knife. I yawn and roll my eyes, determined to bug a bit those people who see my posts. I'm too bored.
Someone tell the love of my life that they can knock on my door whenever they decide, I'm alone at home and with a lot of energy for anything ;) ;) ;) ;)
I smile with satisfaction when I do the post, entwining my hands and placing them behind my head as the world burns slightly.
It doesn't pass more than ten minutes when my nonsense gets liked to more than seven people, something like a record since I don't consider myself as popular to receive a response in such a short time, but I try to write some nonsense in this thing from time to time to not lose the habit of good leisure, plus the comments are really hilarious.
Things that go from: 'Why do you want the love of your life if you have me only a text away? :*', 'Address, to make it simpler ¬w¬', 'I don't know what ya craving for but whatever it is make it to never forget it ;)', even to one or another family member with comments like 'Does your father know that you are writing this sort of things in such a public place?', 'Is something wrong with you?', and the funniest of them all is one that says 'LIBERTINE' in such big letters I can almost swear they would be shouting at me if they had the chance.
Dad is not much interested in the kind of things I do from that kind, as long as it doesn't involve the procreation of a grandchild for him, besides I'm not an active person in that sense. I'm not waiting for someone special or something like it, there are only times when I want it to happen and others where I don't.
I answer some comments when I finish with the last bar, happy because the bad movie is finally over since the serious melody of the credits sounds along with the name of all the actors on the screen. I've seen it about three times in all this time, three months of freedom, and even from the first time I watched so it didn't make an impact on me.
I take the remote control and surf on the channels, grunting at the same time as hating the insipid nightly programming, repeated things, romantic chick flicks that would like many girls I know, programs of boring contests and infomercials. I didn't think cable TV could be so tedious.
Before I can turn off the television someone knocks on the door, a knock that is barely audible between the volume of television that usually annoys the neighbors and my playlist of songs; it's not even ten o'clock for them to decide to make a fuss about it, although it's considerably late to have visitors. I get up when the knocks come back.
I look at the keyring hanging on the wall behind the door, noting that Joel's key pair is here. I roll my eyes and growl, hating I have to get up from the couch just to help him when it's his fault that he has forgotten the keys. His girlfriend is bad for him, I don't know her since he's afraid I'll try some move with her, but that would be a violation to the bro-code: mess around with his girlfriend, and even if she offered herself to me I wouldn't do it. He's my brother anyway, but if he does this kind of things he can piss me off.
"You forgot your keys, I hope ya like to sleep outside, anyway the neighbor's doormat looks comfortable enough to be a cozy pillow" I say against the door, smiling as I imagine his expression. I can't see it since there's not a peephole, after so many years dad still doesn't get one.
"Uh… I don't think that's the way to talk to a visitor".
I arch my right eyebrow at the strange voice, a tone that is different from Joel's by far, and even from my friends who tend to appear at my door from time to time with beers or another kind of alcohol so that we spend time playing videogames or eating some junk, talking about sexy girls or attractive dudes depending on the case and the person with who I talk to, or simply because they have nothing better to do.
When I open the door I'm surprised to see Carlos de Vil, the white-haired boy with black roots who came to my trainings no more than two months ago, he dedicates himself to doing the exercises, he greets cordially and says goodbye to everyone without missing, he arrives on time and talks to anyone other than our teacher, that in the few occasions when he addresses the word straight to him, otherwise it would be thought he has no voice. He's about Joel's age, however he's smaller than him in addition to having the face of a teenager of fourteen, or even less.
I take a look at him now that I don't see him wearing the uniform we usually wear at the time, a loose black trousers with a red stripe on the sides of each leg and a black shirt, now I see him wearing shorts with multiple pockets, a black shirt of the same color and a leather jacket I would like to have for myself although surely it wouldn't fit me for our difference in sizes; I have way more muscles than him. He stands there, trembling and with his hands in his pockets, he looks at a point in the void and plays with an invisible pebble beneath his combat boots. He looks completely different from the guy I usually see every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for two continuous hours.
I clear my throat, drawing his attention back and seeing that a slight blush takes possession of his cheeks, covered with freckles, something that caught my attention the first time I saw him running at my side, that and his strange hair.
"Well, this is a surprise" I cross my arms in addition to arching my eyebrow in his direction, to which he shrugs and tilts a smile. "How did ya know where I live? If you don't respond then I'll think you've been stalking me".
He laughs softly, however he lowers his gaze and scratches his right arm with the opposite hand, like if I had caught him in some sort of trick, or like if I had found out he was actually stalking me. He doesn't seem like the kind of freak who is into that thing, he rather seems like the kind of guy you would catch while he's following you on the streets, very obvious and not knowing about discretion.
"Um… c-can I come in? It's freezing out here" he wraps his arms around him, emphasizing that last thing, and it seems the nature smiles at him as a chill breeze blows, causing his hair and mine to move. Bad idea to be in the streets wearing shorts for him, bad idea for me not wear sleeves.
"Of course, come in" I open the door completely, giving him free space. When he pass by I perceive a scent of synthetic chocolate, one similar to the lip gloss that Evie often uses when we hang out with Mal and Ben.
I close the door behind me, when I turn around I realize that he's standing in the middle of the small living room of the apartment, his arms still wrapped around himself, like if he were waiting for an order.
"Sit down, unless you want to stand there all the time".
He nods and sits on the edge of the two-seater couch, about to fall off since he doesn't seem to be at all comfortable, not on the couch, the cushions are so soft that it's impossible not to take a nap on them, though because of the skin lining they are somewhat annoying. He seems to be uncomfortable with the situation.
I return to my position in the/my couch, seeing his right leg moving swiftly against the floor, like if he were anxious. We stopped seeing each other at eight o'clock when the training was over, and I don't remember hearing anything about him visiting, though I don't spend all my time saying where I live or something, and I don't have him added to my list of friends for him to see the nonsense I wrote down, something strange since Facebook is something a person of his age should have by law.
"So" I say, breaking the ice and drawing his attention back since he was about to pierce the floor with his penetrating gaze, "can I offer you something? Water, tea, non-alcoholic beer, anything?" he licks his lips, pink lips that have small cuts on them, like if he had bitten them.
"I'd like some warm milk with a little sugar, of course, if it's not too much to ask for" he looks down, like if he were afraid I'd reject him.
"Warm milk with sugar, coming up".
I take my cell phone and get up, I enter the kitchen crossing the useless swinging doors that Joel accepted from one of his friends, like if the apartment were huge enough to make it look like an old canteen. I take the milk out from the refrigerator, a little pewter pot from the cupboard, sugar and coffee powder for him and me; second dinner.
Through the gap between the doors I can see him better, he's watching the television closely while his back is finally placed in the soft back of the couch, however his leg keeps moving.
"Shit" I hiss in low voice, hating the scent of the barely visible coat of hair of my hand when it gets burned by the blue flame of the stove. I pour the milk into the pot and place it on the stove, taking my cell phone with my free hand, looking at him once more.
I know you're there disgusting human being with purple hair and green eyes similar to the tone of a spit, answer now or you'll regret it the next time I see you!, I type, knowing I will receive a similar answer and with more insults from Mal.
Mal and I have been friends for three years or so, not that we care much about the date to celebrate or something similar, but she's the person with whom I have most connected with, she understands me in different ways, and in different likings, the same way in which I understand her, we get ahead in the good and the bad, we discuss and tell the other to screw off almost every day before talking again like if nothing had happened, besides that training with her is great because I can insult her as often as I want for her to be useless and I know she will do the same, also the moments when we can fight with blows and kicks against each other causes tensions to oxygenate, so that there are no grudges.
What do you want, idiot? I'm in no mood for your stupidities, that monthly curse decided to appear and all I want to do is die for a good damn time and forever, I receive in response in the next few minutes.
Do ya remember the new guy in the training? Carlos? You know, the one with white hair and who doesn't make any noise.
Of course I remember him, quite weird and quiet but he's cute, although he's two years younger than me like to try something on him D: I don't wanna go to jail, yet.
I am a younger than you and we're here anyway ;)
Nothing had happened, besides you're missing the point, idiot. What's the boy in this?
Sure, Carlos. It turns out he's in my house, he seems a bit anxious and out of his mind, like if he's distracted by something.
Well, maybe he is distracted by something, you should ask him and not bother me about the hook-ups that come to your house. But wait, how did he know where you lived?
That's precisely the question, I assumed that you or someone else had told him.
Dude, barely and we know that he complains during the exercises, he didn't come to me to ask nor anyone I knew. Do you want me to find out a little?
Later, now I have to attend a surprise guest.
Sure, and I hope you don't make him regret doing things with you.
You said it, he's under-aged, so I better abstain from anything ._.
You're under-aged too, so I don't think there's any problem.
Whatever.
Die already.
I take that as a goodbye, besides she's insufferable when the monthly curse as she calls it decides to attack, before anything she's irritable, besides her eyes seem to shine in a frightening way when she's about to explode.
I turn off the stove and pour the milk into two cups, I prepare what he asked for and the one for me, I take Joel's special reserve of cinnamon-covered donuts with chocolate sprinkles, without sending him a warning message, before going back to the living room, watching Carlos completely immersed and absorbed in SpongeBob, my favorite cartoon of a lifetime, mine and Ben's by far.
"Here ya go" I say, reaching out my arm with the cup in my hand, he takes it and I realize just how soft his hands are, he held mine for support before taking the cup. "If it needs anything else, let me know" he nods slowly and with a smile, looking at me straight in the eyes before taking a sip. His eyes are big, not disproportionate to his face, but big anyway.
"It's perfect, thank you, Jay".
I return to my place in the couch, with a handful of donuts in my free hand, he has the rest of them with simply stretching his hand. He eats one after another, interspersing each with a sip of his drink, and with each one he seems to grunt with satisfaction more loudly. I don't care they run out, they are things that can be bought again, what surprises me is that it seems he doesn't eat that kind of thing very often. He seems very happy.
I stay quiet, watching television and sending glances in his direction, noting he bites his lower lip but smiles, like if he were making the greatest effort so his laughter is not audible. I've never heard him laughing. And even with all that happening his leg doesn't stop moving. What's wrong with him?
I make a quick move to take a picture of him, I send it to Mal, being angry or not, since I really don't know what to do. Apparently he likes SpongeBob, and it's still weird that he doesn't stop moving.
The weird thing is taking a picture of someone who's distracted, freaking pervert. Besides knowing there's another moron who likes that nonsense is awful.
SpongeBob is classy as hell, besides you're missing the point, wannabe-fairy.
Call me that again and I'll kick your balls so hard you'll feel them in your throat.
You know I'm not afraid of you, and I don't even respect you ;) But that's not the point, what do ya think I should tell him to know what's he doing here?
Go straight to the point, you don't know much the word subtlety, nor touch, nor anything about decency but that's another story, just ask and period.
You really aren't helpful.
Whenever you want it :*
I throw the phone to my feet, it reaches to slide between the cushions, otherwise it would have fallen on the carpet or against the floor and the screen would have shattered, but anyway I need a new one since it is too small for my taste, about the size of my hand.
I turn my head at the moment when I see him looking at me, frowning and with the remains of donuts all over his face.
"Everything's fine?" he asks, his voice horribly worried. I give him a smile to reassure him, one that he returns to me.
"All is good, it was just an explosive moment, don't worry".
"I hope it's not a nuisance that I'm here".
"Not at all, anyway I wasn't doing anything important" I turn off the computer and slide it under the couch without taking my eyes off him.
"I'll believe you" he says, looking at his cup and frowning. "Would it be too much to ask for a little more? I understand if you don't want to get up but…".
"It wouldn't be too much to ask" I say, standing and taking his cup before he can even lift it. "You should stop giving excuses before people act, not everyone will react in a bad way".
"S-sorry, it's s-something I do all the time".
"You don't need to apologize".
I take my phone one more time, go back to the kitchen and prepare what he asked for, using the same measures in everything, so there isn't an excess and neither a lack, also filling my cup again, to take advantage of the second trip.
The vibration of a text message makes me growl, since the only ones who send them are dad and Joel. The vibration of a second message makes me roll my eyes and swallow the growl, Carlos could misinterpret it.
"So then, Carlos" I say, looking through the doors at him raising his head at the mention of his name, "I say again it's not a problem that you're here, but that's my question indeed. What brings you here?".
He swallows hard and lowers his eyes, he shrugs and it's like if his whole body wants to vanish at that moment, like if whatever that brought him here in the first place was something latent and from what he was trying to escape, like if a couple of donuts, warm milk and SpongeBob would have done it.
"W-well, honestly I-I don't know, you were the first person in which I could think of because… because…".
He gasps, he takes a deep and agitated breath, dropping his head back before releasing a heavy sigh. I return to his side and give him his cup, I go back to my couch and this time I don't lie down, I remain sitting, noticing that now his hands are shaking just like his whole body; ironically his leg finally stops at that moment.
He catches me looking at him and I give him another small smile, I turn the volume of the television mute so it doesn't become a distractor for either of us. He swallows the sip he drunk, a drop slips by the corner of his lips but I don't bend to wipe it away, I just let it go its way, and I shouldn't look at it.
"W-what happens is that…" he hesitates, which gives me the opportunity to sip my cup before it cools, though anyway being cold or hot it tastes good. "I told my mother that I'm into guys, that I'm gay".
It's inevitable the moment when I choke, I do it by surprise and by the strange laugh that takes hold of me to hear him say that, one that succeeds in getting out while I start coughing so much for the milk with coffee to leave my body, to not choke and die right now.
I hit my chest hard, making an echoic sound on the way, while my breathing is leveling, I stop coughing after fifteen seconds that seemed like eternal hours, but the laughter doesn't give up until I look up again and see him with his eyes wide open, blushing, his cup lies on the floor and his hands are placed over his knees. Once again he's shrugging and looks smaller than he already is, looking for shelter on the cushions.
"I-I'm sorry" I say, laughing one last time and placing my hand over my mouth to try to hide the smile, but since it's a real one it tenses the corners of my eyes, something that surely he's watching. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I-I'm sorry".
"I-I didn't think you were going to laugh in my face…" he looks into my eyes, something that allows me to see something dying inside of them, like a little spark of hope I hadn't seen before and that now goes off like the flame of a candle at the mercy of the wind. When he blinks it's when I see the tears about to come out, which makes me feel like the worst person in the universe. "This was a bad idea, I-I shouldn't…".
I stand up at the moment when he leans forward, which is why the hug I wanted to give him ends up wrapping his head and pressing it against my chest. I caress his hair, something that gives me satisfaction to some extent since I had wanted to touch it for a long time, as well as the softness I feel against my hand, but I'm not sure if it's what I just did or if it's the fact he's certainly crying but he trembles, violently, like if I had given him a scare of death, like if I had disappointed him.
"I'm sorry, Carlos, I'm really sorry for what I said and did. I didn't mean to laugh, it's just that what you said was… surprising, or whatever".
His arms wrap around my waist weakly, he rubs his cheek against me, like if on my chest were the comfort he needed, the support he was seeking and that his mother didn't give him in a moment of uncertainty.
But we just met, I don't think he can see that in me.
I move to sit beside him, forcing us to split our hug, and it's now when I can see his eyes reddened because of the tears, the traces of some that streamed down his cheeks; a face completely different from the shy boy who was standing outside my door a couple of minutes ago.
"Then I assume your mother kicked you out and that's why you're here" I say, sounding too rude with those words. Maybe Mal's right, I don't know that much about subtlety or touch.
"N-no, I-I escaped from my house, m-my mother would have done e-even the impossible so I would never get out".
"Are you sure about that? Don't you think you're overreacting a bit?".
"My mother is called Cruella de Vil, she has it explicit in the name, that's why I know I'm not overreacting about fearing her, besides she was about to throw me stuff for what I said, since I thought I could finally tell her after all this time that we have shared together as a family".
The raw honesty, the hidden fear and the serious tone of voice with which he talks about her makes me feel chills, worse than those that occur on winter nights. I don't remember seeing his mother attending to the trainings to ask for some kind of information or to talk to our teacher, he only showed up one day and asked about it, he was received on the spot as is often happens with people who attend alone.
"But… your dad, what does he think about it?".
"I don't know him" he says without even thinking. I really have many things to know about him, too many now that I think about it. "Mom makes no mention of him, she only refers to him as a freaking coward who left her with a son at the best moment of her life".
"Alright, don't talk any more. And just because it's sharing time, I don't know my mother either".
We stay quiet, the cartoons on the television move but there is no sound to accompany them, the wind doesn't blow on the outside, not even the crickets seems to be willing to sing. It's like if all this situation had polarized to the outside and everything was sunk in complete seriousness.
He wipes a few tears with the sleeves of his jacket, takes his cup again and gives it small sips, making a couple of gestures since I suppose he hoped it would stay warm, or maybe it have lost its flavor.
I take that moment to take my cell phone and read the annoying messages, just to know that I'm not losing anything. I just finished working, I'll be home in half an hour, that from dad; I'll spend the night at Jane's place, dad knows so don't make no-sensitive inferences, from Joel. I give him an answer, Have fun, if ya know what I mean ;), while I don't send anything to dad, as it usually happens when he sends me text messages.
"Why did you turn to me?" I look away from the phone in his direction, he looks at me and frowns, distressed and surely formulating countless things that he thinks I'm thinking about him. "I'm only asking".
"I-I told you already, I don't quite know it… I-I just thought you could help me, like a f-friend who helps another in a time of n-need".
I look at him carefully, thinking about what he says, seeing that he perceives a kind of bond that has been forged without much effort, which in a certain way has been given just like that. But he sees it in me, he believes in things I could do and in ways I could help him; Carlos believes in me, or something.
"C-can I spend the night here? Please" he asks, finally revealing all that was behind his surprise visit. I meet his eyes at the right time, again the spark shines in them. "I don't wanna be abusive, it'll only be tonight, I promise, surely tomorrow everything will be better and I can talk to my mother".
I keep looking at him, it's like if every word engulfs me in some sort of trance, like if he were hypnotic, and I don't know if I can give an explanation that is more or less coherent.
He does his request enlarging his eyes, something I'm sure he doesn't realize he's doing, and by the tone of voice, in addition to the desperate way in which he seems to be looking for someone, I'm pretty sure he'd be on his knees in this same moment, begging me to let him stay, and being a little more imaginative I imagine him crying, something that would be an excessive limit.
Finally I lower my gaze, when it's my turn to get into this. Dad would not bother because he is here, he doesn't usually bother about many things, although I have never brought someone home to spend the night, in any way, the one who is responsible for that is Joel and it involve his friends in the living room, chatting late and sleeping on the carpet.
I let out a sigh, causing him to move in his place, anticipating once more things that I'm not thinking about, I will not think about and that I will not say anything about. I don't understand Carlos very well now I think about it.
"You can stay, yeah" I look at his cheeks and then his eyes, noticing a blush and the glowing being more present respectively, "but I'll have to talk to dad when he gets home to give him a superficial explanation of what happened to you, I promise not to go into details".
He doesn't respond, he just wraps his arms around me, sinks his nose into my neck and takes a deep breath, something that makes me shrug because it's a spot too sensitive in me.
I give back the hug, bringing his body closer to mine, sliding my hands slowly over his back, seeking to reassure him, something dad used to do with me as a child, on the few occasions when something truly frightened me, like electrical faults during the storms.
He moves his head further, like if he wanted to nest on me, something I don't think I would deny, and in any case something strange happens, in me. It's like we've done this more times, he looking for help and me giving him my best, but dammit, we just met! I think I should take care of the chemicals I eat from now on, or maybe I'm just overreacting, like him.
"Thank you… Jay" he whispers in a voice barely audible, almost eclipsed by the cars passing through the street. I shudder again at the heat of his breath against my skin.
"No problem" I say, taking him gently by the shoulders, something to which he gives in without trying to make our hug to last any longer. "Now come on, I'll show you where you'll sleep".
"Oh, that's not necessary, I can stay here" he snaps, jumping up and down on the couch, "it's quite comfortable actually".
"It is, but I can't let ya sleep in the couch, it wouldn't be like a host to have people sleep in the living room".
"But…".
I take his hand before he keeps insisting and I force him to get up almost in a jump, since the space in which we are is too small it doesn't take us more than fifteen steps to reach my room. I turn on the light after groping on the wall, when it lights it I almost want to run away because of the mess that represents my bed, the sheets and blankets spread everywhere, the pair of pillows I use laying right on the floor; a mess. Besides Joel's mattress lies beneath mine.
"Sure, I'd forgotten a little detail" I say, and it's until I realize the softness of his hand when I realize that I'm still taking it, which is why I release it, something it didn't seem like he was going to do. I don't ask for his help to get the other mattress out from underneath mine, not even for him to help me to settle up where he's going to sleep, I only do it while he stands there in the doorway. "We're doing something like a remodeling with the furniture of the house, the first was the bunk in which I sleep, so I hope you don't mind that we sleep on the floor and in the same room".
"Not at all, I could use better than where I sleep in my house" he answers almost superfluously, like if it were a statement that doesn't cause others to ask questions. "But wait, I don't think that other mattress is down there for fun, I guess someone else sleeps on it, who does it? Cause I wouldn't want anyone to end up sleeping in the couch, or on the floor…".
"Oh, my little brother, Joel, but before you even think about going back to the couch, I'll tell ya that he shares bed with dad" I turn to see what he's doing, noting that he opened his mouth to ask a question. "Whatever you wanna know, I will not talk".
He closes his mouth, but he smiles.
I get up when the bed is ready, which seems to be a sign that lets him get inside to inspect the rest of the room. All painted with pale yellow, a wooden chest of drawers that matches a small piece of furniture that has the abundant pairs of Joel's and mine's shoes, which don't exceed beyond five, the jackets hanging on the wall on the left, the desktop computer, the printer and everything else lying on the floor, my mattress next to the wall on the right, Joel's a few inches away. Not very much to see in such a little space to live, but Carlos seems to enjoy meeting new spaces.
"It's…" he begins to say, taking a full turn, like if he were in the most stunning place there may be, "it's cozy, pretty much".
"Really?" I ask, actually surprised by his words.
"I mean it, it's very different from my room".
"But I remember hearing that you moved recently, that's why it's strange you say something like that" he turns to look at me, giving me a small but very warm smile. I place my back against the chest of drawers, as a support, feeling my knees a little weak from one moment to the other, although it wasn't a day of exercise so intense to feel such as tired after so much time.
"My mother makes sure that the houses where we move to get redecorated so that they don't lose the original design of the house that she had to sell when I was born, so that's why I have that feeling when I'm here".
Before I can say anything else by his comment he drops something to his side, a small backpack I don't remember he brought on his back. I look at him again and I see him rubbing his eyes, yawning, like if he were a small child who went through a very long day and wants to sleep. Sometimes I do the same thing.
"Very well, I'll leave you alone so you and your luggage can get a little more comfortable" he arches his right eyebrow at my statement. I answer the question without being formulated by pointing to his backpack with my head.
"Oh, it's not luggage as such, they're… vital things so to speak, I brought them in case everything had gone to hell at one time to another, which in some way it did…" he hesitates and shrugs, like if he were saying a lot of information, and he did, although I didn't quite understand it.
"Okay, get comfortable" I point to the door to the left, "that's the bathroom, the next room is dad and Joel's, I don't recommend you to enter because there's not much to see in there" we both let out a little laugh, something that is forced on both of us, "and… here between us, I honestly don't know what you're going through, it didn't happen to me, but I heard a situation like that has consequences, so if you wanna break into tears or whatever then don't hold back, I promise not to say anything about it".
He sits on the mattress, he gives a light kick to the backpack before sighing, from the bottom of his small body. It's like if the relief at least had come to him, like if the problems in which he was thinking about were being solved; everything in him has changed since the moment he arrived, he has his back upright, he shrugs only occasionally, he smiles and speaks with a more firm voice. His leg no longer moves; the calmness is with him. Or at least that's what he makes me think.
"Thanks, Jay, again" he looks at me and smiles.
"It's like you said it, I do it to help a friend" I grab the doorknob and start to leave, until the pinch of curiosity now passes to me, with a question that surely will sound stupid. "Before I leave I just wanna ask one more thing" before he can say anything I let the question out. "Are you really gay? I mean, are you one hundred percent sure you are?".
"Is it so hard to believe?" he answers, and among the few things I hate is when someone answers a question with another question.
"Well… yeah, if I were extremist I'd say there's nothing in you that lets know you are, and having heard you admitting it so suddenly caused a short in my head, that's why I didn't know what to do besides laughing, I'm sorry… again".
"That's okay, I got over it, I think…" he hits the tips of his boots a couple of times, like if that were enough to divert my attention from the question I asked him, "But yeah, I am".
"Surely-sure?" I arch my eyebrow.
"As sure as the fact you're Jay every day when you wake up".
"Fair enough" I say, admitting my defeat somehow, "if you need anything you know where to find me, anyway I always sleep late. Oh, and welcome to my life, in some way".
"A warm welcome too, I must admit it".
No word comes from any of us after that, to sign the conversation is over at last. I leave my room letting the door minimally open, just a slit that lets out the light from the inside, giving him the privacy enough he needs to do whatever it is he does before bedtime.
I turn on my heels and return to the living room, I take the mute mode off from the screen before taking the dirty dishes and take care of them, thinking that the new guy in training is sleeping in my room, something that would give me some reputation if this were a competition. I have no one to compete against in that regard, and I wouldn't feel well doing it.
When I finish them all I do is turn off the light in the kitchen and throw myself once more on the couch, feeling the cold cushions sinking by my weight. I take my cell phone to write again to Mal, being in any mood that she is.
Short story: he fled from his place for… stuff, so he'll stay here.
Surprisingly, her response arrives only a minute later.
And what're you doing telling me? Go and try something with him, because at least I would do anything for a guy so attractive to sleep with me ¬w¬
He's too sad, besides I never said he was inclined to that side.
Boys of his age run away from their homes for things like that, or they get kicked out, I don't know, but I'm sure when you say 'stuff' you mean that.
Anyway, I'll not try anything.
You're boring.
And you a wannabe-fairy ;)
I leave the cell phone between the back cushions and focus on the television, in a program that has any sense, but it's the best distraction I have.
I see him out of the corner of my eye when he comes out once more, with a brisk pace, he enters to the bathroom and comes out the next second, I hear him brush his teeth in the sink outside (the structure of the apartment is a bit weird), before seeing him when he enters to the room again, this time the light inside goes out, telling me he has finally decided to go to sleep.
Being as light of feet as I am, as well as curious, I stand up and walk without making the slightest noise towards the door, I kneel down and I move the few centimeters that I lack to arrive slowly, I stop when something like a murmur achieves to leave, a lament that produces shivers on me for the long sobs coming with it.
I get up and go back to the couch. I don't want to hear him while he cries.
"Jay! Wake up!".
I open my eyes by the voice screaming in my ear, and if I hadn't heard dad's voice at that very moment I would probably have punched him in the face, or if it had been Joel I would have put his face in my armpit until he pleaded for mercy since he knows that never, ever, for any reason, he should wake me up.
When my heart starts to beat in a more human rhythm I turn my head, seeing dad in the individual couch, with a sandwich in his hands and a smile on his face, something that is not very usual.
"What the fuck…?" I ask, disoriented by the sudden nap, and his expression changes to a reprisal one for my vocabulary, something that will not change in a long time. "I'm sorry, I guess, but you're gonna wake him up if you scream like that again".
"Joel?" he asks, taking a bite of the sandwich and talking with his mouth full. "He said he would spend the night with Jane".
"Not him, I mean Carlos" I get up and stretch, listening to the creak of some of my joints in the process. When I look down in his direction I see him still, he stops chewing, and I could almost say breathing.
"That explains why that door is closed, who is that Carlos you said?" he asks after a second, then he swallows.
"Oh, right, I forgot that little detail" I sit back and rub my eyes, trying not to feel so disoriented. "Two months ago a new guy came to the trainings, Carlos, and he's here because he needed somewhere to crash, he ran away from home because his mom went crazy when he said to her that he's gay".
"What age you say he has?" he asks, something he tends to do, go through the branches before returning to the point.
"Sixteen, and I don't remember mentioning it".
"You didn't mention it, and that's a problem" he takes another bite of the sandwich, which looks so good it makes me hungry, and this time he worries about swallowing before he talks. "He's underage, he wouldn't have to be out of his home, so the best would be…".
"He's sleeping, I can't wake him up and tell him to just leave" I argue in his defense, something I don't understand why I'm doing. "Besides, I'm sure if it was a friend of Joel's you'd let him stay without a word".
"That's because they've known each other for a long time, you just told me that you met this kid only two months ago, and I can swear you haven't spoken more than three times since then" he says, striking at everything he says.
"Whatever, I can't tell him to leave".
I look at the flat screen, noticing the nonsense program has now become a documentary on the history of Mesopotamia, something that will surely come to his aid in his antiques shop, his work of weekends. I still feel a little ungrateful to see he does everything here while I sneak guys into the apartment, but there's Joel too, and of course there have been times when I work for him, but he always gets a grunt when he gives me an order, like carrying heavy things or changing the shelves.
He finishes with his sandwich and cleans the corners of his lips, like if he were a complete gentleman. He growls and runs a hand over his face, reflecting the obvious weariness that always seems to drag behind him.
"Alright, alright! He can stay, geez" he stands up and turns off the television, staring at me sternly when I look back at him. "But I don't want you sleeping with the door closed, no talking at two in the morning, and I especially don't want any kind of noise before noon.
"You know I hate sleeping with the door open, besides for some reason it's cold at night although it's summer, also it would be even simpler than being closed you don't listen to our talks at two in the morning, and especially it would prevent us from making some kind of noise before noon".
"Just go to sleep and leave me alone, we'll talk in the morning" I wink my eye at him; victory for me. "And if he needs to stay longer for whatever the reason then he can do it, just tell me before letting him sleep in your room".
I give him a mocking smile, I stand up and slowly open the door of my room, fearing the light from the outside could wake him up. The rhythmic sound of his breathing tells me that nothing seems to be enough to wake him up, not even an elephant stampede would.
I leave the light off to be able to change my clothes freely, without the curious look of a boy who is sleeping in the bed next to mine, a boy who claims to be gay although I don't believe it for anything. I put on a pair of cotton pants along with a simple white shirt, but before I slide between my blankets I place one more over him, the night seems horribly freezing for some reason, before which he lets out a deep sigh of satisfaction.
Curiosity returns to invade me, I turn on the light bulb of warm light since the closed curtains don't allow the moonlight to filter in the room, besides I don't remember they were like that when I left. He must have done it, it was that or the entity that lives in the department decided to play a little prank on him.
In addition to a complaint, something that was bound to happen by the sudden light getting on, I'm surprised to see that he's extremely comfortable in the blankets, the one I have just put over him envelops his face in the same way that would make a blanket to a baby. He outlines a smile in his dreams, and the expression of his face, vulnerable, serene, calm, makes him a smaller being than he already is, more exposed to the world around him.
I keep that image in my head when I turn off the light again, I slide between the blankets and place my head on my pillows, turning on my side to look at the wall. I close my eyelids slowly while drowsiness steps over me to take me with it.
So many questions, so many things I would like to know about him. There's time for all that, for now the only thing we can do is sleep.