James Woe Park, Two Years Ago...
"I could kill you for this dude," Alex mutters irritably.
I flash a toothy grin at my best friend/crush. He's so cute when he's annoyed, he rolls his eyes as he tosses a few bread crumbs toward some ducks.
"Aww, the little freshman thinks he can take me," I tease with a slug to his shoulder.
"You wanna bet hotshot?" Alex sputters.
I cock a brown eyebrow, unsure about going through with this. I'd love to put his little fourteen-year old ego to shame, but at the same time the last thing I wanna do is hurt him.
"Armwrestling. If I win you gotta lemme kiss you," I smirk.
"Ah no way!" Alex replies.
Alex has known about my crush on him for almost two months now, I tried to kiss him and he ran off before I could. I'm homosexual, and I guess it wasn't my smartest idea to try kissing my too-straight best friend. I was just so attracted to him that I let desire over-power my mind.
"Okay, how about this? If I win I get to kiss you. But if you win then I won't drop out of school next week," I propose.
Alex frowns at me, deep in thought. After a few moments of silence he sighs in defeat and nods his head in agreement.
"If I win, the kiss will be ten seconds and you have to respond," I announce.
Alex reluctantly follows me over to a picnic table under an oak tree, he takes the seat next to me and sighs. He pops his knuckles and stretches a bit.
"Let's do this," I smirk.
Alex slowly turns to me and plamts his right elbow on the table, and I do the same. I take him in for a moment. Gosh he's so gorgeous that it makes my head swim. Those wide, innocent dark eyes pierce into my soul. His face is so flawless that it almost hurts to look at. And his thick, straight black hair that falls a bit over his eyes. I have every urge to reach out and stroke those stray strands over his eyes...no. I've got to stop this kind of thinking...I'll only be rejected again.
Alex takes his hand in mine and my pulse skips a beat. His hand feels so soft and warm. Ugh, somebody this perfect should be illegal...it's a danger to the health of the female and homosexual male population.
"1...2...3!" Alex counts.
I push down with as much strength as I have, the struggle lasts for about twenty seconds, and then I cans ense Alex's muscles growing weaker. I use up my own last ounce of strength and slam Alex's hand down, I yell out an overdramatic victory cry. When I finish I notice Alex staring awkwardly at his Converse.
"You can't tell anyone," he murmurs shyly.
I nod my head and slowly reach outand place my palm on the left side of his neck, he looks up at me. My heart pounds in my chest and I close my eyes. I lean towards him with my head slightly tilited, and when our lips make contact I press deeper and begin to kiss him slowly and oh so deeply. He responds instantly.
Wow. I've dreamt about doing this so many times but I could've never even imagined it feeling this good. We kiss gently but even while kissing him I feel a sense of longing for him. How long has it been? Probabaly well over ten seconds by now. Whatever, I don't care.
I rest my left hand on his knee and slowly move my fingers from his knee to his mid-thigh and back to his knee again over and over. Then Alex really shocks me by what he does next. Alex flings his arms around my neck and slides on to my lap, his knees on my hips.
I slip my fingers underneath his greyskin-tight Batman shirt and caress my way up and down his spine while he clings to me tightly. After a good sum of minutes I pull away, but leave our faces only inches apart.
"I love you Alex," I whisper softly."Please at least consider giving me a chance...you might be able to love me too."
Alex frowns slightly, I can clearly see from his expression that he's very conflicted right now. He slides off my lap and raises up off the bench.
"I don't know...I-I'll think about it," Alex mumbles before walking away from me.
James Woe Park, Present Day...
As I stand here starring at the withered old oak tree and the now rotten picnic table I remember that day almost as if just occured. Even in times like these I can't help but smile at the memeory, this was where everything began. It was where I had my first kiss with Alex and where I told him I loved him for the first time. I never knew this place could bring me such waves of sadness until now.
The hospital has scheduled to take Alex off of the life support tomorrow afternoon, and I've made a decision. If Alex is leaving this world in less than a day then I'm going with him. I refuse to live in a world without Alex's exsistence, I love him too much for that.
I can't sleep. First, because of Ashley's outraged screams coming from downstairs and second, because if I allow myself to sleep then I'll just dream of my baby again; then I'll end just end up crying again when I awake because the dreams aren't real.
"Mom, he's still just a kid!" I hear Ashley shriek.
I glance at all of the pictures of Alex and I that I have taped together on a bulletin board hanging on one of th bedroom walls. I instantly spot my favorites and my eyes linger on them.
The one with Alex asleep on the couch after he'd just showered, with his hair soaked and wavy, was taken almost a year ago. Then there's the one with Alex flipping off some homophobic bitch that had given us dirty glances when we'd hold hands, I was standing there in that local zoo with him smirking with my head rested on Alex's shoulder in that picture. That was only about seven months ago.
My eyes land on another one of my favorites. It was a picture of twelve-year old Alex with his sister. They were standing on the front steps of the high school. Ashley was dressed in a graduation gown and was holding up her high school diploma, and Alex had his arm wrapped around her waist and they were both smiling for the camera.
So many pictures potraying many great memories. My heart begins to ache for him again. I'd give anything to just hold him again, anything hold his hand and just lie awake and talk with him for hours at night like we used to. That's when I let the tears fall.
I clutch my pillow tightly to my chest and just sob right into it. Maybe I can somehow convince Sharon to give him some more time to come out of this thing. Maybe if I-
"Ashley put that down!" Sharon pleads.
"No I'm not letting you kill my little brother!" Ashley screams.
I hear a loud bang. And then another one after that. Silence. I spring out of bed and fly down the stairs. My stomache does a 360 at the sight in the living room.
The front door is halfway open and Ashley is gone. On the floor is Sharon, covered in blood, barely concious. A few feet from her is a silver revolver, and outside I hear an engine start.
"Ashton," Sharon mumbles drowsily. "Help me."
I shove my hand into the back pocket of my grey skinny jeans. Empty. At first I'm confused, my phone should be there, but only seconds later I remember. My phone is is currently being worked on in the store I bought it from. Reason being, a couple days ago I dropped it in the bathtub.
"Just hang in there Sharon!" I panic.
I dart out the front door just in time to catch sight of Ashley's crimson Mercedes racing out of the driveway and it dissapears down the roadin only seconds. I couldn't care less at the moment, Ashleyw asn't my purpose for coming out here. My feet seem to control me and instantly take off towards the woods. That's where the closest residence lies, at the end of the woods. If I could just get to a phone in time then maybe Alex's mom has a chance.
About halfway into the woods my foot gets tangled up in a pile of twigs and vines. I'm sent face first on to the ground. I cry out in pain as I feel a dozen sharp points dig into the skin of my bare forearm. My eyes fly down to see my arm caught in a small thorn bush. I scream as I yank my arm free, and once I untangle my foot from it's captivity I'm back on my feet and running again.
It takes almost two minutes before I'm out of the woods and emerging into a large clearing. Up about twenty yards northwest a two-story beige house stands with no light escaping the windows and has a driveway vacant of vehicles. There's probably nobody home. No matter, I'll just have to break in.
When I finally reach the house I race up to the porch and snatch up a birchwood rocking chair. I slam it into the very first window I catch sight of. The thin glass shatters and I dive into the home.
I'm inside a beauitfully furnished living room- with absolutley no telephones in sight. I spot a door up ahead and race through it, entering a marble kitchen, with a corded telephone hanging on the wall beside the stove. Before I have a chance to run over to it the room suddenly floods with light. I whip my head around to the light switch.
Standing next to it is a six-foot tall, fifty-year old manwith short, thick wavy grey hair and a huge beard. In his hand is a gigantic shotgun. His finger is rested on the trigger and the gun is aimed straight at my torso, the man glares daggers at me.
"Who the hell are you?" He growls with a raspy, southern drawl.
"My name is Ashton Riley and my boyfriend's mother has just been shot. Can I please use your phone?" I beg.