FicWad

This chapter has been beta-d TWICE because I now have TWO betas. So I hope this chapter doesn't suck. It's kinda long...hopefully worth the long wait.

Chapter 9

"Stop screaming, stop the damned screaming!" I continued screeching my insides out, with my eyes squeezed shut. I was too scared to take a good look at the man. So many ideas swarmed around my brain like a cloud of gnats. Who was this guy? My sixth sense was telling me that he was some sort of child molester. Along with that thought came a few possibilities about what he was going to do with me. As a chain reaction, I began thrashing my arms and legs about, until I heard a yelp of pain from the man. Peeking through half-shut eyes, I saw him stagger away from the bed. Taking this opportunity as an advantage, I slid off the bed and ran towards the door, which conveniently lay wide open. Continuing to scream, I snapped my head both ways, locating the stairs. I hadn’t even taken a full step when I froze and slowly turned around. My scream slurred into a silence and I blinked, shaking my head to make sure I wasn't hallucinating.

"Hey Bert," Quinn approached me with a wide grin playing at his lips. He leaned to look over my shoulder, "I think you just beat the crap outta my dad."

His dad? No, no way. Either I had to be imagining this or Quinn had to be mistaken. Nervously, I glanced back into the room, hoping to see an unfamiliar face. As things would have it, I recognized the brown-haired man from yesterday. He was getting up from the floor, with a hand covering his eye and another clutching his stomach. God-fucking-damn-it, could I get any stupider? I quickly focused my attention to the floor so that he would not see me blush. The feet of Quinn’s father soon came into view and I thought it would be a little rude not to look up, so I did.

He grinned at me, a little, with a look of chagrin on his face. Moving both his hands away from himself and holding one out, he said "Hey there. I think I might have scared you a little." I couldn't be sure, but I felt a touch of sarcasm interwoven into his voice.

I shook his hand, feeling myself blush, "Uh…s-s-sorry, sir."

His smile grew larger. "Its okay, little man."

I heard Quinn wince after his father’s comment. His dad laughed heartily, making the sound echo in the corridor and walked around me, to the stairs. My blond crush and I were alone in the hallway now, staring at each other wordlessly. I immediately broke the gaze, fearing that I might accidentally try to kiss him again. I could also vaguely recall being angry with him earlier. The exact reason was in the back of my mind, but there was no way it could have been too important. Then again, nothing seemed very important to me at that moment. All I wanted to do was go home and make my dad like me again…or at least steal my pills back. I crossed my arms over my chest, on the verge of tears. But I wouldn't cry in front of Quinn. I just refused. I wasn't sure how long I could hold it all inside. I had to get out of here.

"Um…" I started, "I'm…uh…going home now, okay?"

Quinn frowned at me. Since he didn’t say anything, I took this as an okay for me to leave and turned away from him. This time, a hand grabbing my wrist halted my forward motion. Realizing it was Quinn's hand, I squealed in delight before catching myself. As he yanked his hand away from me with a startled, freaked-out look on his face, I blushed from mortification. Apparently, humiliating myself was the thing of the day. Quinn let out an uneasy chortle, still giving me the weirded out look.

"Um…okay then…" he scratched his head with one hand. "I was just gonna ask you why you were sleeping on the sidewalk…"

My mouth formed into an 'oh.' My eyes rolled upwards, waiting for a good alibi to fall from the ceiling. "Well," I spun my head around my neck and tilted it to both sides, looking around for a way to get out of this "I was sleeping on the sidewalk," I paused for a second, squinting at the floor so that I wouldn't have to see Quinn's face, "Because I was really sleepy." It was believable, right?

"Why didn't you just go home then?" his eyes somehow managed to lock into place with mine.

I didn’t have a clue how he did it, but I was speechless. My jaw had clamped shut. I could feel a lump of rolled-up words lodged in my throat, too large to swallow. When my lips parted, only a breath of air came out. It was impossible to lie, at this point, when he was looking at me like that. But what a fucking dilemma; if I told him the truth I was sure I'd cry. What do I do? My brain shut down on me with a click. It was not used to making such huge decisions. Having no other option, my mouth opened, and out came the truth.

"My dad kicked me out," I confessed.

I stubbornly curled the fingers of my hand into a fist, rebelling against the urge to start bawling. It was almost funny how long it took my determination to crack. I would have laughed if I hadn't begun to cry. Rubbing away the tears, I managed to stop myself from crying anymore and thus save myself from further embarrassment. I sniffed and tried to manage the least ugly version of one of my smiles. I didn’t know what else to do, other than that. It might have seemed a bit out of place, but it sure as hell was better than crying again. Quinn's expression also bordered on strange. From what I knew of reading faces, it seemed as though he didn't know what to feel. He opened his mouth a couple of times, but closed it before any words came out. I got tired of waiting for him to say something, so I spoke up.

"So I'll just go, all right?"

Quinn's mannerisms reeked of guilt, which puzzled me. "Uh, where are you gonna go?"

I shrugged. I'd probably end up sleeping on the street, I didn't care. Hopefully, I'd get run over by a car and everything would just be over. If that didn't work out, I'd have to take drastic measures and go jump in a lake or something. I thought, keeping that under lock and key. It wouldn’t do to have my crush think I was a crazy suicidal freak. I twisted a strand of hair around my finger, once again forcing a tight-lipped smile. I walked backwards, so I could see Quinn. He stared at me with pursed lips. I took a backwards step down one stair when he stopped me.

"Wait, hold on," I noticed the way his hair seemed to bounce as he ran towards me, and I figured he was going to tell me not to go down the stairs backwards in the way I was doing. Didn’t want to leave a mess on the stairs, after all. "You can stay here...if you want to."

My heart swelled almost as large as my eyes, filling with hope and wonderment. I wanted to say yes, throw my arms around his neck and smack my lips onto his cheek. Of course, I didn't do any of those things. I could clearly see that Quinn was unsure about what he was suggesting. I couldn't blame him. Maybe, just maybe, he liked me when he had first met me, but now I was sure that he thought I was a freak, like everyone else I knew. I had pretty much proved to him that I was a whiny, wimpy, childish little faggot. I knew it was out of sheer politeness that he told me I could stay at his house, and was flattered that he was nice enough to offer. I mean, shit, why would he want me around all day in his house? I didn't even want myself around. My breathing hitched threateningly.

Nevertheless, I had surprising composure, "No, that's okay. I don't wanna bother you like that. I'll leave."

"It's not a bother," he said quickly. It sounded like he just blurted it out before he had time to think twice, "I have this extra fold-out bed thing in my room." I opened my mouth in protest, but Quinn interrupted, "Shut up, don't say anything. Did you have dinner yet?" I shook my head silently. "I'll get you something, come on." He slipped past me, gesturing for me to follow him.

We ran down the stairs, while I tried to make it obvious that he didn't have to suffer and let me stay here. I finally had to give up; the guy was impossible to argue with, even if I was arguing for his own good. I trailed behind him. We passed his blissfully occupied dad in the family room. He was staring at the flashing television screen while rocking a cradle back and forth absently. Then, we entered the kitchen. The blond man from yesterday—Quinn's other dad—was loading plates into the dishwasher. He turned around, probably hearing us come in.

He scrutinized me up and down, "Are you the sidewalk kid?" His voice was deep and gruff. I gulped, feeling a little scared. He must have noticed, because his face suddenly broke into a grin, "What's your name, son?"

"Bert," I mumbled.

He chuckled, "It's nice to meet a guy under sixty who goes by the name Bert."

I laughed softly and switched my eyes to Quinn because I had nothing to say. He filled in what would have been an awkward silence, "Bert, this is Uncle Tim." I frowned for a second, and then realized that it was probably less confusing than calling both his dads "dad." And probably less embarrassing too… Quinn continued, talking to Uncle Tim, "Uh, Bert doesn't have a place to stay right now, so he can be here for a few days, right?"

In my head, his reply was something like, "No way, Quinn! Not this freaky kid who has an old guy name."

In reality, Uncle Tim shrugged, "It's fine by me."

"Thank you so much," I said sincerely, "But if it's too much trouble—"

Quinn cut me off, "Oh, shut the fuck up, Bert. You don't have to be so polite."

I blushed, simultaneously feeling alarmed. He just dropped the f-bomb and his father said nothing. Oh my fucking God! I glanced at Quinn, who winked at me. Butterflies flew around in my stomach. I could almost hear the sound of their fluttering wings. I bit back a giggle. My thoughts were now edging closer and closer towards superficiality. Even though I knew I had bigger worries, I just couldn't stop obsessing over how cute Quinn was. I didn't think I'd ever had such strong gay emotions before. Hell, I didn't even remember liking another boy before this. I was sure this was more than some petty crush, though. I was ready to rip my heart out, wrap it up in glittery paper, and give it to Quinn. He could keep it, until he felt like throwing it away, though I didn't have a clue what I'd do. I'd die. God, did anyone ever feel this way? I needed him to return the feelings I had for him. It was probably stupid to try and make someone like me; especially some guy I'd known for only two days. I had never believed in love at first sight; the whole concept was crap. Maybe this was just lust. Maybe my dick was just wired to control my mind sometimes, I couldn't be sure. Slowly, I dragged my mind away from such baffling matters. There was no point in thinking; thoughts got me nowhere.

I concentrated on the happenings in the Allman family kitchen. I discovered that I hadn't missed much; just Uncle Tim leaving. Quinn's head was now in the fridge and his butt stuck out. I convinced myself that it wouldn't hurt to gawk a little. Much to my disappointment, he turned around momentarily, with a Lean Cuisine ready-to-eat meal in hand. I looked down at my tummy. Was he subtly hinting that I needed to lose weight or something? In my opinion, I wasn't fat at all, but if Quinn thought so… I sucked in my stomach. My self esteem probably dropped another level. However, I kept quiet and watched as the blond boy punched in numbers into the microwave. He didn't speak a single word while the frozen food was being thawed. Consequently, I spaced out, vacantly staring at the spinning plate inside the microwave. I nearly jumped out of my skin upon hearing the loud beep, which signaled that my dinner had been cooked.

"I hope you don't mind," Quinn said, pulling the plastic plate out, "This Lean Cuisine shit is like, the only thing we have in this house besides baby food…my dad wants to lose weight or something. Oh, this is salmon. Damn it, are you vegetarian?"

I shook my head and took the dish from his hand, with a quiet thank-you. And then my mouth twitched into a grin. I couldn't help myself, "It's okay to eat fish 'cause they don't have any feelings."

He blinked his mesmeric eyes at me a few times before bursting out into laughter, "Dude! That is like, the coolest line Kurt Cobain ever wrote…" he stopped talking for a second to get me a fork, "You like Nirvana?"

I nodded, adding, "Love 'em." and stabbed my new eating weapon into the dead sea-creature. I didn't feel very hungry, so I wasted time cutting it into little pieces. It was starting to look rather unappetizing to me, but I didn't want to seem ungrateful. If I were out on the street by myself, I would have nothing to eat. I shoved some of it down my throat. It was a bit bland, but bearable. I chewed carefully, while letting my eyes wander around the room. My gaze rested outside, on the dining room table. It was a safe thing to stare at.

"Um…do you wanna go sit?" Quinn asked after a few seconds.

"Sure," I replied through a mouthful of fish.

The next part was exciting; the two of us walked out of the kitchen and sat down at the dining table. I know. Walking next to the love of my life in utter silence. Exhilarating.

I twirled my fork in the air while eating the last bit of my dinner. I tried hard not to look stupid, but that effort was destroyed when the fork flew out of my fingers. It clattered noisily onto the hardwood floor. There was a scoff from Quinn, which made me blush uncontrollably. Ohgodohgodohgod. I needed to divert attention away from my clumsy action.

"So how'd you find me?" I asked quickly after picking my fork up, "On the sidewalk, I mean."

"Well," my companion began as if he was about to tell me the most exciting story ever, "I was taking out the trash and you were right outside. I figured I shouldn't leave you there so I literally dragged you inside. That's why your shirt's a little dirty. And then my dad told me to put you on the bed, so I carried you upstairs. You're a really deep sleeper. I dropped you on the way up," he flashed his trillion dollar smile, "You're really light too."

I swooned on the inside at the thought of Quinn carrying me. I was actually in his arms for a few minutes. God damn it, why couldn't I have been awake? I strained my memory to give me at least a vague idea of what that experience had been like. I received nothing useful.

Whatever. Happiness was the strongest emotion in my body in any case. I now had many possible fantasies to have about the way Quinn must have held me. I was very relieved nobody could read my mind, though. I sounded so weird, even to myself. I guessed it was okay…in the privacy of my own brain. I suddenly realized that I had been silent for too long a time. I must have looked like an idiot. I, of course, wanted to keep that status.

"OH!" I shouted to the air.

"WHAT?!" an alarmed Quinn yelled back.

"Nothing."

"Bert, are you okay?"

I didn't bother answering his question because my mind had already found something to occupy itself with. It had spotted—all the way across the room, on a table—photo frames. For some reason, I loved looking at photographs. Maybe I was just a loser, but the thought of frozen memories almost excited me. I slid my chair back and ignored the loud screech it made. I walked like a hypnotized zombie. I heard Quinn trail behind me, muttering something along the lines of, "What the fuck?"

My footsteps stopped near the table and I bent down to look closer at the pictures. I recognized Uncle Tim in one of them, and Quinn's other father, also. I examined their faces then stole a glance back at their son, who raised both eyebrows at me. The three of them looked nothing alike. Well, obviously not, Quinn must have been adopted if he had two dads. I deserved a smack upside the head for taking this long to realize that. However, there was slight resemblance between the brown-haired dad's nose and Quinn's. It was probably just a coincidence. The other snapshots on the table consisted of people I had never seen before; probably their friends and family. It was a bore staring at unfamiliar faces. Just as I was about to search for another pass-time, something caught my eye, further down the table. A lone photograph stood there, propped up by its frame. I almost trembled moving towards it. The person inside the frame made my heart clench a little. A woman, maybe in her late twenties grinned at me. God, she was perfect. Her hair shone, her nose was pert, her smile was warm and inviting, her skin was flawless; it was all just perfect. She was a goddess. What really took me in were her eyes; they matched Quinn's exactly. I was beginning to get a teensy bit confused.

I turned around slowly and pointed at the pretty lady, "Hey, Quinn, who's that?"

Quinn's face clouded over with an expression I could not fully identify. It was sad, for lack of a better word. I saw his eyes start to blur with tears, but when he blinked, they were gone. With his shoulders slouched and his concentration on the floor, he crossed his arms, looking really small and helpless. I was getting ready to lean forward and give him a hug or something when his lips moved, although only someone who was staring at him would have noticed. I could faintly hear the words that he spoke.

"My mom," he whispered.





Let's leave it at that. By the way, anyone have any clue where Bert buys his clothes? Cause he has the best t-shirts I've ever seen...read, rate, hate, review. Which ones will YOU choose?