Chapter 9: Keeping Secrets
"Morning," I told him the next day as I slid into his car. He said nothing, not even sparing me a glance as he pulled away from the curb and started driving towards school. We sat in heavy silence and I glanced at him uncertainly. "Mello?" I ventured quietly, and his hands tightened around the steering wheel. He still didn't say anything and I looked away, directing my gaze out the window instead.
The ride to school really isn't very long, but it felt long. When Mello parked the car he pushed open his car door and climbed out, standing impatiently, waiting for me to get out. I did, and he locked the doors, slamming his door shut and stalking towards the school.
I followed at a slower pace and by the time I reached my locker Mello was already seated in front of his, textbook open on the floor in front of him. I watched him for a moment but he didn't look up so I slowly sat down in front of my own locker and turned on my DS.
I couldn't focus at all, and I kept looking up to sneak glances at Mello. He studiously ignored me and I sighed to myself, staring blankly down at my game. I hated this; I didn't want to make things weird between us.
But what else was I supposed to do? Could Mello understand, with a family as accepting as his was? I mean of course he understood homophobia, but it was more than that. Explaining my family meant explaining why David hated me, why my dad drank, why I tried to stay away from home as much as possible. I'd never talked about those things with anyone and I tried not to dwell on them much myself.
If I told him he would pity me. I didn't want him to see a boy with a broken family when he looked at me; I just wanted him to see me.
Unfortunately he didn't seem to be seeing me at all right now, since when the bell rang he turned and walked towards his first class without a word.
He didn't say a word to me during chemistry either, except when he had to. He stood as soon as the bell rang and did not pause to wait for me like he usually did. I was worried I'd be sitting alone by the time I got to lunch but he was at our usual table, already eating. I sat across from him and went straight to my chicken nuggets, not expecting him to say anything to me.
"Why won't you tell me anything?"
I looked up in surprise, especially because he was willing to discuss this here in school. I swallowed a bite of chicken nugget and put it down to give him my full attention. "It's complicated."
"How complicated can it be?" he asked. "Are they homophobic? Is that it?"
"I honestly don't know," I told him. "But David will use any reason to hate me, and I'm sure this would just add to it."
His brows furrowed. "He hates you?"
Mentally I cursed myself for letting that slip, but I didn't let it show. "Maybe hate is a strong word but…yeah, pretty much," I said.
"Why?"
I fidgeted in my seat nervously. "A vast amount of reasons."
"Like what?" he questioned.
"Like stuff," I said, voice hardening slightly. "It's personal, you don't need to know."
He glared at me. "Like hell I don't."
My annoyance increased. "It's my business, not yours. They're my family and if I don't want to tell you I don't have to. It's not that bad, but it's not something I want to talk about, so just drop it."
Mello went back to his lunch, not saying anything. He ate quickly and once he had emptied his tray he looked at me again. His gaze was serious. "I don't like that you won't share your home life with me. It makes me angry. If you won't tell me about it at least do me the decency of not lying to me about it, because I can tell that everything is not fine." He stood without another word, and I wondered how he managed to make me feel so guilty when he said so little.
He didn't invite me over once that week. I resented him for it, and for him pushing me to talk about my family. He didn't have a right to push me the way he was. We spoke less, both of us annoyed with each other. Despite my annoyance with him, I missed going out with him after school. I had grown used to being with him, and by the end of the week I had started to miss him more than be annoyed with him.
We agreed to meet on Sunday because Mello had family obligations for Thanksgiving. He drove me home Wednesday after school and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. I wanted to ask him if we could go somewhere and that I missed him, but he pulled back and turned towards the road. I looked at him a moment then got out of the car and stood on the sidewalk as he drove down the road and out of sight.
/…/…/…/
The weekend with my family did not get off to a good start. Thanksgiving, a holiday where families gave thanks for what they had, was a foreign concept in my home. What did they have to give thanks for?
I emerged from my room around noon to find something to eat. David was sitting at the kitchen table, already nursing a beer. It was probably only his first or second one because he did not look particularly affected. I was proven correct when he turned to face me with clear eyes.
So he was just getting started.
I began to dig through the fridge looking for something vaguely appealing. I gave up, instead searching the cabinets. Finally I found a half empty box of cereal and resigned myself to spending the next few minutes with David. I poured myself cereal and sat down as far from David as I could manage.
"Some Thanksgiving feast huh?" he asked smirking. I said nothing. "You know mom used to cook. I can't remember her dinners very well but dad insists she was an excellent cook."
I began eating faster. Why couldn't he just let it go?
"I think that's why dad hates this holiday so much. He used to love Thanksgiving but without mom it's worthless."
I was eating my meal in record time, wondering how he could honestly hold a grudge for so long. Who does that? Blessedly, he was quiet for the next couple minutes, and that was all I needed to finish my cereal. I stood and carried the bowl to the sink.
"I'm surprised you're here at all Matt. Why aren't you hanging out with your little friend?" David questioned.
Something about the way he said 'friend' irritated me and, already frustrated with him and my dad for causing another roadblock in my relationship with Mello, I lashed out. "He's spending time with his family, because they're not a bunch of losers like you are."
David's smirk dropped abruptly at that and he stood. "Who are you, to call us losers? The reason we're not having a Thanksgiving dinner this weekend is because of you!"
"Just shut up!" I snapped. "I didn't ask for mom to die, or for dad to start drinking!"
"That doesn't mean it's not your fault," David growled, slamming his beer bottle down so viciously that it shattered on the counter, glass scattering across the countertop and the floor. He paid it no heed though, simply stepping over it and closer to me. "Whether you wanted it or not, dad started drinking because of you! Mom is dead because of you! You act like you're so much better than us but you're not! That really pisses me off that you think you're so above us, like you deserve better. You don't deserve anything."
"Fuck you!" I hadn't been this angry with David in a long time. "I don't think I'm better, I know I'm better than you!"
He reacted too quickly for me to defend myself, and his fist shot out and caught me across my right eye. I stumbled backwards into the counter and looked up at him.
He was still glaring. "Don't say you're any better than me when you've got one loser friend. Did you know he's a fag? That's how low you're willing to go for friendship? I suppose that pussy is the only one who would take you. Admit it; you're not worth a thing!"
"He's a better man than you could ever hope to be."
David lunged towards me and I lifted my arms in defense, but he shoved them away and landed a second punch on my jaw. He shoved me sidewise and I stumbled away from him, eyeing him warily.
"Don't fucking start with me little brother, you don't have a chance," he warned.
Although anger was still steaming inside me I knew he was right and looked away, my usual sign of submission whenever David was being an asshole.
"That's better," he said and pushed past me, pulling another beer from the fridge. "How can you begin to think you're better than me when you're such a weakling?" He looked up at me, staring straight into my eyes. "You deserve everything you get, now get the fuck away from me."
I shuffled past him into my room, locking the door behind me. I lifted my hand to prod at my eye and jaw gingerly. I cringed slightly at the blood; bastard had split my lip.
I went to my dresser, checking my phone for any missed alerts from Mello and finding none. I sighed, grabbing a tissue and pressing it against my lips.
David was right about one thing; I was a weakling.
/…/…/…/
"What happened to you?" Mello exclaimed on Sunday when he came to pick me up.
"Nothing," I mumbled, not having been able to come up with an adequate excuse. Clearly someone had hit me.
"Bullshit!" he yelled, but began driving nonetheless. He said nothing for a while, until we reached the park. It was, as usual during this time of year, deserted. The early snowfall made the chances of us being interrupted very low. Mello parked the car and turned it off, turning in his seat to face me. "Tell me what's going on," he demanded.
"Look, it's nothing serious," I said. "You don't need to worry about it."
Mello pounded on his steering wheel in frustration and leapt from his car, slamming the door shut harshly as he did so. Slowly I followed, moving to stand several feet in front of him. He was visibly trying to calm down, but his voice still emerged angrily. "I don't know how stupid you think I am, but I know something is going on with your family. Did they do this?"
"You're blowing this way out of proportion."
"Stop dodging the question!" he screeched. "I am so sick of you lying to me! Even when you're hurt you won't tell me what's going on! You don't trust me at all!"
Now I glared at him. "This has nothing to do with trust, its privacy. You have no right to demand me to-"
"I am your boyfriend!" he interrupted. "As your boyfriend I have the right to know certain things, like who is hurting you!"
"My boyfriend?" I scoffed. "You can't call yourself my boyfriend if we're not dating in public. You hide from the school like a coward! I was willing to come out and you decided you'd rather hide so no Mello! As my boyfriend you do not have the right to know what happened!"
"You're calling me a coward?! You're the one who won't open up to me! You're the one who is hiding everything from me!"
I clenched my hands into fists at my side. "As if you've told me everything there is to know about your life. What about your past, Mello? You skirt around that subject whenever you can. What about that person who was going to be valedictorian?"
His face went from angry to furious, and his voice dropped, becoming quiet and cold which was somehow even worse. "Don't fucking talk about him. I'm not going to share something like that when you won't even share the basics about your family."
"If you think yelling at me is going to make me tell you anything then you're wrong," I told him.
He clenched his teeth together and took a slow breath, allowing his face to become blank. "Matt, will you tell me what happened this weekend and why your brother hates you?"
I bit my lip. "I told you, it's not a big deal. It was just a small fight, it wasn't that bad."
He shook his head slowly. "That's a lie. Obviously it must be pretty bad if you will keep avoiding the question like this. I really like you Matt, but I can't be with you if you're going to lie to me. I can't handle that, and I don't deserve it. I've had enough of people who lie to me and I'm not taking it from you too. When you can tell me the truth call me, but until then I don't want to see you."
He turned away, walking towards his car. The anger drained out of me instantly. "No, Mello wait!" I rushed forward and grabbed his wrist. He stilled but did not turn to face me. "Mello, please, I've never talked to anyone about this before. You don't understand."
He yanked his wrist away. "No, I don't understand, because you won't let me. When you're ready to help me understand give me a call." He opened the car door and ducked inside. He looked at me once more through the window then started the car, backed up, and drove away. I stared after him, hating how he was making me choose, and hating my family for being the way they were to make this so hard for me.
But at that moment, I hated myself most of all, for not having the guts to tell him anything.
/…/…/
School was torture. Mello didn't show up early all week, or if he did, he avoided his locker and found somewhere else to go. He only spoke to me when it was necessary in class, despite my many attempts to start a conversation. He wasn't at our usual table, and I couldn't find him in the cafeteria.
To put it simply, I was miserable.
Being home was not helping at all. In fact, David had gotten even worse since the Thanksgiving incident, and he had gotten dad on his side. Each day I came home early David taunted me, asking why I wasn't out with Mello. His insults grew worse and he had taken to standing at my door, pounding on it for ages, telling me how worthless was.
What was worse that I really did feel worthless. How had I driven Mello away so quickly? What was wrong with me? We had only been dating for a month but I'd felt such a strong connection to him and I had ruined it by being too stubborn and cowardly to tell him what was going on.
But now I was even more scared to call him and tell him I was ready to talk. He was mad at me, so would he really listen? We hadn't really spoken in a week, so did he still want to hear from me? But even if he would listen a part of me was scared to tell him. I didn't want him to see how weak I really was. Not only was I too weak to tell him what was going on, I was too weak to even stand up to my family.
My dad had started to follow me around the house, accusing me of taunting and provoking David, saying I didn't do enough for the family for the right to defend myself. I tried to ignore him, but his drinking always got worse near holidays, and he was relentless. When I left the room they would double team me, throwing accusations. David was trying to rile me up, to provoke me to attack him in front of dad, but I refused to let that happen. It made him even angrier that I had so much self control and he grew more personal, aiming attacks at me and Mello instead.
"I know all about your little fag friend Matt," he told me.
"Leave me alone," I muttered, watching my dad who was opening a new bottle of beer.
"Hang around a kid like that long enough and he'll turn you into one too. Not only would you be a murderer, you'd be a faggot, and I would not have to justify beating your head in for that. I'm sure plenty of people would want a chance to do that if you were one."
I ignored him, but inside I was alarmed. David very rarely threatened me with serious violence, and with the mood he'd been in since I insulted him I didn't want to give him any other excuse to come after me.
He got worse as time went by, and after it had been nearly two weeks since I fought with Mello I was near my breaking point. After a particularly nasty jab about how even if I were gay Mello would never date someone like me, I rushed from the kitchen and slammed the door of my bedroom, sliding down the wall and burying my head in my knees.
Because David was right, Mello didn't want to date me. I was too much of a weakling and a coward. It had been me who drove Mello away. This entire situation was my fault. I hadn't wanted mom to die, but she was dead because of me. I had ruined their family, so their reactions towards me weren't surprising. I had lied to Mello, I hadn't trusted him. He deserved someone who didn't lie to him, someone who didn't hold back anything.
I hated myself for it. I screwed up everything. I had even screwed up the one thing that I really had going for me.
My dad was pounding on the door now. It was early Friday evening and he hadn't been drinking much yet, so for him to demand entrance was serious. Not wanting to face the consequences of ignoring him I opened the door.
He was scowling, and I wondered what I had done to merit this kind of attention. Had David said I did something? He must of, because my dad did not look happy. He turned and walked towards the kitchen and I followed.
"I am getting sick of the way you disrespect your brother, insulting him and storming out when he was defending himself."
I gaped at him. "Insulting him?"
"I don't need to hear any more lies from you," he said as he reached for his beer bottle on the counter.
I just stared at him. "What do you mean lies?" I asked. Usually David didn't spin stories to make dad angry. The past few weeks' frustration caught up with me again and once more I found myself speaking up instead of remaining silent like I usually did. "He's the one always telling you lies!"
His scowl deepened and he stepped towards me, which I mirrored with a step backwards. "Don't start pinning blame on your brother. We provide you with food and shelter despite your arrogant attitude so you have no right to disrespect us the way you do."
"I wouldn't say you provide that much," I muttered quietly to myself, but he must have heard it because suddenly he exploded.
"Sometimes I think I should kick your ass out on the street! You're not bringing any money in like your brother and me, and you certainly aren't grateful for what we provide for you!"
I seethed. "I have a job."
My dad took another gulp of beer and glared at me. "For college, a lot of good that's gonna do you. You're not getting anything out of a college education."
"It's not like I don't buy any food around here, since you waste so much money on beer!" It burst out of me before I even thought of biting the words back, and my dad stopped mid-drink and stared at me.
"You don't like the way I run this house then you can get out. I don't care what you do. Stay or go, it don't matter to me, but you better stop being such a pain in my ass, trying to fucking lecture me. You're my son and you'll do what I fucking tell you to." He stepped forward and I recoiled, but he merely tossed his bottle in the trash and pulled a new beer from the fridge before stepping towards me. "What, nothing to say to that?" he asked, leaning down. "I'm sick of this attitude you got with me. Learn your place or I'll kick your ass out. Now get out of here, I don't want to see you for the rest of the night, got it?!" His voice had risen steadily with each word and he turned abruptly, moving into the living room.
"Oh Matt, what have you done to make him so angry?" David asked, emerging from the hall.
I turned without a word, stalking towards the front door. I couldn't deal with this anymore. I just couldn't take it. This constant harassment was killing me, and going through it alone was even worse. I'd gotten used to at least having Mello's presence to look forward to, but that was gone.
I couldn't do this alone anymore.
I started off down the block, pulling out my phone and dialing his number. For a moment I feared he wouldn't answer, but he picked up on the third ring. "Hello?"
I took a deep breath and said, "Mello can I come over? I really need to talk to you." He was silent a moment and my heart hammered against my chest, fearing he would reject me. "Please." It came out nearly a whisper, and I don't know if he even heard it, but then he said yes, just as quietly.
I hung up and stuffed my hands in my pockets, hurrying towards his house.
I needed to fix things.
But most of all, I just needed him.
