Eddie made sure to walk out of Daniel’s ward slowly and calmly on Friday night, though once he left the hospital he picked up speed. His cheeks were warm, probably from the weather. Yes, the weather.
The sun was swimming into the horizon as he brushed past people with no regard to how rude he might have seemed, trying to get home as quickly as possible. His shoulders drooped under the weight of his backpack, which housed a so-full-it-could-burst-at-any-moment pencil case and numerous books on Shakespeare.
‘Hey, is that…’ a voice called out. Eddie sped up even more. ‘Hey, Ed!’
Eddie sighed and turned around. A tall and muscular boy around his age walked towards him, wearing gym gear and smelling like a deodorant can. The boy had a grin on his face but was rubbing the back of his neck.
He continued. ‘It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? It’s, uh, good to see you again.’
‘Um, likewise. So, uh…’ Eddie paused on purpose, looking up at the sky as if trying to remember the boy’s name. ‘...Dean… what brings you here?’
‘Oh. I moved here. Austin had to move so I went with him.’
Eddie smiled but looked away. ‘Great….’ He began scratching his chest right where his heart was, his other hand in a fist. ‘So I’m guessing things are good between you.’
Dean laughed a little. ‘Yeah, it’s been pretty good. Thank you for that, by the way.’
There was no way Eddie was going to cry in front of this boy. He clenched his jaw until it ached. ‘No problem. Glad to be of help. So how are the others?’
The smile on Dean’s face dropped a couple of millimetres. ‘I don’t really know, to be honest. I haven’t really talked to them since moving. I told them about me and Austin and they kept cracking these godawful jokes like they thought they were doing some brilliant stand up routine.’
‘Pricks.’
Dean nodded in agreement. ‘I didn’t out you, by the way.’ A sigh of relief escaped Eddie’s mouth. Dean put a gentle hand onto Eddie’s shoulder. ‘But seriously, thank you. You know me. I still can’t figure out basic shit like geometry, so I have no clue how long it would’ve taken me to figure out who I really was without your help. You were my… what did you call it again?’
This was the final straw. Eddie shoved Dean’s hand away. ‘I have to go. Sorry. It’s getting dark and I have to be home soon.’
‘Ah. Understood. I’ll see you around, then.’
After a quick nod, Eddie walked slowly until he was sure he was out of Dean’s line of sight. Then he broke into a run.
He swore under his breath when his cheeks felt wet. He knew he should have put on waterproof mascara.
Yes, mascara. He tried to force his brain to think about makeup, metal, anything else, but the memory of his conversation with Dean kept bumping into those thoughts like a sibling who wants to use the television.
It was only when he arrived home that he realised how short of breath he was. He panted as he fumbled for his keys.
He rushed into his room, collapsed onto his bed and cried into his pillow, now caring for neither the smudge of mascara on his cheeks nor said mascara’s potential to spill onto the pillow.
After he finished, around ten minutes later, he turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He said the words he couldn’t say to Dean.
‘Closet key.’
He sat up and looked at the mess that was himself in the mirror. As he wiped his makeup off, he mentally repeated the same words to himself while recalling Dean’s muscular frame.
Faggot. Sissy. Fairy.
He then added a question to the mix, though it was worded differently each time.
What are you doing crying over this like some little girl who tripped over?
The image of Dean eventually morphed into that of Daniel. He spoke in Eddie’s head.
‘If I knew you’d have this side to you, I wouldn’t have bothered asking you to help me. What happened to Cheerful Eddie?’
Eddie responded to the image.
‘How could I stay cheerful when I’ve met yet another dumbass with a football for a brain?’
Imagined Daniel grabbed Eddie’s hand like the real Daniel did at the hospital. Eddie felt his cheeks flare up again.
He wiped the last bit of makeup from his face and, with a wry smile, whispered into the mirror. ‘Closet key, huh?’
ns 18.68.41.140da2
