Chapter Twenty-Six:
"Hey, thanks for lettin' m'stay over, man," Tyron told him as they headed to Peter's house.
"It was no problem, really, besides, Ned and I had some stuff we wanted to finish anyway," Peter shrugged and Ned grinned.
"Yeah! I got this new Lego set - we're recreating the Millennium Falcon!"
Tyron rose an eyebrow, "That's cool! I never really got much into Star Wars myself, but m'bro loved it. How big is it?"
"About this big," Ned said, bringing his hands apart to show it's size. "It's supposed to take about three hours to make, but," he chuckled. "That's the amateur timing, ours will probably be half that, maybe less."
Tyron smiled, and Peter pointed to an apartment. "That's it."
"So, s'jus' ya an' ya aunt?" Tyron asked, curiously.
"Yeah, my parents, uh, died in a car accident a few years ago. I've been living with my aunt and uncle for a while, but, he died last year." Tyron frowned, speechless. He didn't know that so much death followed Peter, a boy he hardly knew. Tyron also knew it was a touchy subject as well, he seemed very closed on the subject and would probably rather not discuss it any more.
"M'sorry, man," Tyron muttered as Peter went to his apartment door, pulling out a key.
"Don't worry. It's in the past," Peter said, shrugging it off. He opened the door, allowing the two other boys inside. Ned went in first, Tyron behind him. "Fourth story, third door on the left," Peter instructed as they began up the steps.
Tyron felt his stomach growl as they went up the metal steps. He had tried to sneak a few more strips of metal he found beside the street, but couldn't eat much without people seeing him. So now, he was hungry in the prescense of humans, who would probably freak out if he stuck a soda can in his mouth.
The finally made it up the last flight, and Peter moved to unlock the door. "You can take your shoes off, if you want," he suggested, and Tyron did, and left his shoes nearly at the door.
The apartment was small, but not any bigger for more than two people. There was a kitchenette in a side room behind the door, which opened up to a living room. Beside that was a short closed off hallway, that probably led to bedrooms and whatnot. A slightly opened door beside the living room that showed a bit of a sink gave Tyron the impression of a small bathroom, and beside that, a closed closet - probably holding winter coats.
The apartment had been a bit messy at first glance. Not too messy that Tyron had to watch where he stepped, but at the same time, not exactly giving the impression that they favoured tidiness.
Tyron smiled, it was homely, which was certainly unlike his house in Jersey - run down, mouldy projects, and his neighbors mainly consisting of crack heads and meth labs.
"It's nice," Tyron commented.
"Ah, thanks," Peter said, finaly managing to take off his other shoe. "Through here," he said, waving them down the hallway. Tyron and Ned followed, and Ned began to chat as they walked.
"Have you seen the movie poster for the new Star Wars remake?! It's supposed to be coming out next year, or the year after! It looked so good, and everyone's different! I heard that they might bring Luke back in the new one, but I don't believe it. I mean, it's been so long, he couldn't even be alive, ya know?"
"I saw that!" Peter said, opening his bedroom door. Tyron gaped, it was a mess. A proper, boy's room mess. There were books and gadgets spread everywhere, clothes on the floor and hanging off chairs. The bed was nearly recognizable, and the closet of more things. Tyron chuckled to himself, if his mom had come into his room and saw this, he'd be beat so fast.
"What's wrong?" Peter asked, noticing his face.
"Nothin'," he smiled. "Don' worry about it."
"So," Ned began. "Where's the set?" A grin spread across Peter's face and he rolled over his bed to get to the side, which had been pulled out a little. Tucked between the small space between his bed and the wall, was a white decorated box, and a picture of the model space ship they were going to recreate out of legoes.
Peter smiled and opened up the box, "Let's get to work."
- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -
Tyron, Ned, and Peter worked on the Lego set for an hour and a half. Once they had finished, Tyron felt mentally exhausted. "Well, boys," Ned said, equally as exhausted and impressed with their intricate Lego designing. "Looks like we finished."
"Not yet!" Peter said, standing on his bed and grabbing a small Lego piece he brought it down and showed the two others. It was a small red Lego flag. "The flag!"
"Was that in the kit?" Tyron asked, curiously.
"Nope," Ned said.
"On all of our remodels, we put the red flag on top," Peter explained.
"It's like our signature," Ned shrugged. "Last piece to the brilliant puzzle."
"Wanna do the honours, Tyron?" Peter asked, holding the flag to him. Tyron was surprised at first, but gently took it.
"The last puzzle to the masterpiece," Ned repeated. Tyron stuck the flag on top and Peter came behind him, hot gluing it down.
"Now it's done," Tyron smiled, actually feeling apart of the group.
"Yep!" Ned seemed very pleased with all of their hard work. "Should I take it?" Peter nodded and handed it to Ned.
"Why do ya take it?" Tyron asked, a bit confused.
"Aunt May doesn't like to see the legoes, she thinks she'll step on a loose one. And, Ned had his own room - he has three sisters. So he can keep it at his house, hidden from all the females who believe that seeing a Lego immediately means they'll either step on one, or they have the sudden urge to destroy it." Tyron barked out a laugh and Ned gently took the Lego masterpiece.
"I have to head home, or my mom will probably be screaming at me later," Ned said, carefully leaving the room. Peter and Tyron followed.
"Tell her I said hi," Peter remined as Ned set it down and began to put on his shoes. Mrs. May came out of her bedroom and smiled.
"Are you heading out?" She asked.
"Yeah, it's getting dark. And, I will, Peter," he said, slipping his feet in haphazardly. "Bye, May. See ya, guys!"
"Bye," Tyron and Peter said in unison, as the door closed and Ned's footsteps disappeared down the steps.
"What do you two boys want for dinner?" Mrs. May asked.
"Pizza?" Peter suggested, and Tyron forced himself to nod, but his stomach said otherwise. "I'll order it."
"I'll be in my room if you boys need me," Mrs. May said, and then turned away. Peter grabbed the house phone and began down the hall again, so Tyron followed. He sat on his bed and dialed a number.
Tyron listened silently as he ordered a large cheese pizza. He felt slightly guilty when he heard the total, and decided to slip Peter the cash for it later to pay him back.
"It'll be here in about forty minutes," Peter said, leaving the house phone at his nightstand.
Tyron nodded, "I gotta finish m'homework anyway," He said, picking his backpack off the floor. "It'll be a good way to pass the time."
"Yeah, me too," Peter said, going to grab his bag and pulling out his books. Peter had picked up a copy of the homework for him since he skipped the rest of the day. Besides, he already had a ton of makeup work to finish for the past few weeks, so he definitely had his work cut out for him.
Tyron dove right in, reading the text for history. They were studying quietly for about ten minutes, or so. Then, as Peter switched subjects, he asked. "What school did you go to before you came here?"
"Uh," He rubbed his neck, not looking up from his paper. He didn't know how to lie his way out of this one. "I didn't. Like, go to school. I, kinda, quit-ish in middle school. Then, I studied an' came back later, for high school, ya know."
Peter looked at him, surprised. "What made you quit school in middle school?"
"Home circumstances. M'family s'pretty fucked up," he said, chuckling. That was an understatement.
Peter could only nod, and turned back to his work, so Tyron did too. Tyron bit the end of his pen, hungrily gnawing on it.
Suddenly, his bag vibrated and Tyron froze. He forgot about his phone. He reached over, digging in his backpack for a few seconds before finding it, with Tony's caller ID displayed on the front. He quickly shut down the phone, and pushed it back in his bag.
"Who was that?" Peter asked, curiously.
"My... Dad," Tyron replied after a hesitant second, then turned back to his work and frowned. "Hey, did you do the history assignment yet?"
"No," Peter shrugged and Tyron sighed, going back to the question and scanning his book. "Oh, dude, you missed out earlier," Tyron glanced up for a moment send Peter continued.
"Hmm? Wha' happened?"
"Liz happened. I saw her glance at me in the halls earlier, between lunch and third period. And, I swear I saw her smirk!"
"Wow, she totally checked you out," Tyron teased and Peter huffed, nudging his leg with his foot. "I don' even know why ya have ya eyes set on her. I mean, isn't she head of, like, everythin'?"
"Not everything," Peter huffed testily. "Just debate, decathalon, student council-"
"That's practically everythin'!" Tyron laughed and Peter crossed his arms, frowning.
"She's really nice, I mean, for a senior. And she's hot, so..."
"That's not what ya looking at, though, aren't ya?" Tyron rose an eyebrow. "Course homegirl is hot, I mean, didn't she date Miles Forbes at some point? And, she's head of everythin', which means she's hella smart. That's wha' ya want - smart. I mean, look at ya. Ya all brains and no brawn. I could knock ya down with a breeze, dude."
"That's not fair," Peter pouted, but sighed, "She's never gonna notice me anyway..."
"Hey," Tyron frowned. "I didn't say she'd never notice ya. If ya need her to hook up with ya, m'pretty sure I can arrange a few thin's..."
"What do you mean by 'arrange a few things'?" Peter said with a suspicious eyebrow.
"That means, don't worry ya little brown-haired head about it," Tyron smiled. "If ya want Liz Allan, ya will have Liz Allan. Jus' gotta pull a few strin's."
"I don't want you to hold my hand through the entire process!" Tyron rose an eyebrow, confused. "I want to... Introduce myself. I wanna do it myself - I'll figure it out."
"Ya sure? I mean, I really can-"
"Don't worry about it," Peter laughed, so Tyron dropped it. "What about you anyway? You never talk about anyone you're interested in."
"Hmm..." Tyron muttered, turning back to his work, but Peter was not having it.
"Oh, come on!" He whined. "I just told you all about Liz. Give me a name, just one you might have you sights on."
"S'not tha' big of a deal," Tyron said, laughing. "I jus' got out of a relationship. We..." Tyron swallowed down a bitter taste of despair. "We broke things off. It wasn't working out."
"Oh..." Peter was softer, and looked down. "What was her name?"
"Pietro," Tyron said before he could stop himself.
Peter gave him an odd look. "That's not a girl's..." He trailed off, then his eyes went wide, and his mouth made a small 'o'. "Oh. Oh! You didn't tell me you were gay!"
"You didn't ask," Tyron shrugged.
"Oh. That... That makes a bit more sense..." Tyron laughed, now nudging Peter with his foot.
"What, are ya upset?" He teased, but Peter flushed.
"No! I just... I dunno. I never expected..."
"It's a'ight," Tyron told him, laughing.
"So, Pietro, huh? What was he like?" Tyron looked away, trying to ward the silly grin off his face.
"He was perfect, man. Like," he exhaled, shaking his head. "He was so perfect..."
"What happened?" Tyron's smile faltered.
"Ah, he... And I..." Tyron rubbed the back of his neck. "Things, uh, fell apart..."
"I'm sorry, man," Peter said quietly, but Tyron shook his head.
"S'fine. I... Need to move on, right?" He shrugged, then went down to his work, trying to stop the tears from coming. He bit the inside of his cheek and focused on the history problem he was on.
They went into a uncomfortable silence for about ten more minutes, but then a knock sounded at the door, and Peter shot up. "That's probably the pizza," He said, going to open it.
Tyron stayed where he was, trying to finish his question. After a couple of minutes, he got suspicious and stood up.
"Peter? Ya a'ight?" He asked, coming out of his room, his metal pen still in his hand, ready to absorb it at any moment.
"Oh, yeah!" He said, scrambling to stand up. Tyron walked into the room, and then froze. "Your aunt just came over apparently," Peter said, then whispered in a low voice, "And you didn't tell me she was hot..."
"She's not," Tyron deadpanned, staring at Natasha, who was giving him a smug smirk.
"Maybe not to you, but-"
"Is it a'ight if we talk outside?" Tyron said, stiffly. Peter finally seemed to gauge their seriousness and frowned.
"Yeah, that's cool, I'll be up here," he said.
"Thanks," Tyron replied as Peter turned to leave. "Oh, an' I left m'bag in ya room."
"You might want to grab it," Natasha told him.
"I'll leave it here," Tyron said, his voice tight. Then, he marched towards the door, Natasha trailing behind him. He dashed down the steps, and out the front door, Natahsa only seconds behind.
"Why are ya here?" He demanded once the apartment building door has closed.
"I could ask you the same thing," she replied. "Shouldn't you be at the Tower? Why haven't you come back yet? Do you know what time it is? You could've called, you know."
"I can't come home," Tyron growled. "Not yet. I..." He glanced around, having to remind himself that Zion might not have as much power in this area opposed to the Hood.
"Did you get in trouble? Are you hiding from someone?"
"No, I...!" Tyron sighed, shaking his head. "Ya wouldn't understand."
"I would understand, if you'd talk to me, Tyron! What's going on!? Why can't you come back?"
"I..." Tyron bit his lip, looking away from Natasha. "Remember that girl that made me eat that cookie - Michelle?"
"Yeah, what about her?"
"She knows," Tyron ran a hand down his face. "Nat, she knows about everythin'. An' she threatened to tell an' if... If Baron found out where I was, if he found out I was livin' wit' y'all... He'd kill me." Tyron ran his fingers through his hair, trying to breathe.
"Okay. Okay, we can talk to her, get her not to tell."
"She won't listen. She... She said I killed her best friend's family when... I was wit' Baron," he explained, not meeting her eyes. "She... She was there. She..." Tyron covered his eyes. "I know wha' she's talkin' 'bout too. I-I remember it, Nat. I remember Baron tellin' m'to kill 'em, an'..." Tyron clenched his teeth. "She said for m'to give her name before the end of the week. I don't know her name, Nat. I-I don' remember it." Tyron exhaled. "Look, she... She don' know that m'wit' ya, so... If she thinks m'stayin' 'ere..."
"Tyron, you can't stay here forever," Natasha reminded him gently.
"I know," he said. He didn't tell her his plans on skipping town in the morning. He didn't need her looking for him. "I jus'... After all y'all have done for me, I don' wanna ruin y'all lives. If people knew ya had m'in the Tower, a mutant an' a murderer, y'all would be in trouble. I can't do that to ya."
"Tyron, we can help," Natasha said, frowning at his stressful situation. "We can talk to this girl. You've changed now, we can show her. Or, we can convince her not to tell anyone about your situation."
"She won't listen," Tyron stressed. "Look, jus' go, okay? M'sorry for not callin' ya. I will as soon as this situation clears. Jus'... Give m'some time, a'ight?"
Natasha sighed, seriously hesitant on this suggestion, but then look at him. He felt on the verge of tears from frustration, and blinked them back quickly, so the woman wouldn't see.
"Fine," She said. "I'll talk to the others. Call us in the morning so that we know you are alright, okay?"
"Got it," Tyron said, fixing his face. Natasha moved closer and hugged him tight. Tyron froze, he still wasn't used to hugs and hugging. He stiffly hugged her back and then let go. "I'll call in the mornin'." He promised.
"Do you need anything? Money? Food?" She asked. "I can run over at-"
"I'll be fine," he assured, even though he felt like his stomach was going to burn a hole through his skin if he didn't eat soon. "Don't worry. Go, I don' want anyone seein' us..."
"Why's that?" Natasha asked, smirking slightly.
He rolled his eyes, gently pushing her away, and she began to walk. "Don't forget to call," Natasha told him.
"I won't," he assured, then turned back to the apartment and buzzed the door.
- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -
Tyron and Peter stayed up late that night in his bedroom, and Tyron narrowly managed to dodge eating the entire night, assuring Peter he wasn't hungry. They talked for hours, mostly about schoolwork, but then about girls and guys at their school.
"So, yeah, Liz is good an' all," Tyron was saying. "But, what 'bout Samantha? From science?"
"I've known Samantha since seventh grade," Peter said. "I dunno, it'd feel weird with her."
"Ya have been brainwashed by Liz!" Tyron teased, and Peter laughed, shaking his head.
"Then, I'm happy to be trapped under her spell," he joked and Tyron chuckled. "Besides, it could be worse."
"Yeah. She could be a bitch," Tyron agreed, and the statement was followed by a very undeserving pillow to the face. "Hey! It was only a suggestion! An' it's true! She could have been, but good for ya she was raised right!"
"Shut up," Peter said laughing, turning over on his bed. "Who do you have your eyes set on, anyway?"
"Meh," Tyron shrugged. "It's too soon to say. I mean, ya guys got some fine lookin' guys, but they're all way to young for me. Ya know m'seventeen, right?"
"Yeah, I know," Peter sighed. "What did it feel like, to be in love with someone like that?"
Tyron smiled, "Magical."
"You are such a sap," Peter teased and Tyron barked out laughing.
"It's true! He was... He was so perfect, ya know? Like, ya don' really find that kind of perfect 'ere."
"Where was he from?"
"He... Immigrated 'ere, from Slovakia. Before all the shit happened to it," Tyron said. "He was smart too. An' hot. Don't forget hot."
"I'm sure you won't," Peter chuckled, and Tyron rolled his eyes.
"Ah... Man, I miss 'im..." Tyron murmured, his heart feeling heavy.
Peter decided to change the subject, "When did you know you were gay?"
"Hmm? Seventh grade," Tyron said with a yawn. "S'gettin' late, an' we got school tomorrow."
"Yeah, okay, I get it," Peter said, rolling his eyes and moving over to pull the light switch.
Tyron, who had been on the floor, closed his eyes. He was going to sort everything out in the morning, which meant he needed to sleep well tonight.
"'Night Peter," he said with a soft yawn.
"'Night," Peter replied. Tyron waited for hours, until both Peter and Mrs. May were definitely deep into sleep.
He stood slowly, grabbed his bag, pulling out the extra textbooks, and shoving a few pairs of Peter's clothes in. Then, he opened the door, grabbed his shoes and went out of the window and into the night.