Could Tell a Love

I was standing in front of the stove, frying up some bacon. It was fucking stupid to be doing shirtless, but I couldn’t find a shirt in the dark. I didn’t want to wake Jared by turning on the light.

It felt good to be alone for once. No one will leave me alone. They’re all afraid I’m gonna go get super drunk one night and go kill Eric. I’ve thought about it, but that doesn’t mean I’ll do it. It’s been almost a month since the fight and we seem to be fine with each other. I realized that our relationship was built on sex, not much else. That’s how we kept it secret for so long.

Jared is a totally different story. I can hardly contain how much love I have for him. We’ve actually cut back on the activities in bed; we decided that it ruins relationships when there’s nothing but sex. Eric and Miranda will soon figure that out.

I still haven’t forgiven Miranda for what she did to Eric and I, but I have some respect for her. She brought his habits to my attention and brought me back to my senses. Eric had masked all my common sense with his false words. I believe that he’d loved me at one point, but he "loved" so many other people at the same time. I couldn’t handle not being the only one. That was the reason why I had gotten so mad at both of them for what they did. What came as a surprise to me, though, is Eric’s reasoning for intruding in on Jared and I last year. He said he was jealous. He wanted what we had, a steady loving relationship. When he said this, I felt so sorry for him. His sex habits weren’t entirely his fault or his choice...

6 years earlier...

There was a rapid knocking at my door. I put my beer down on the table and came to the door slowly, feeling the effects of the alcohol kick in at the difference in elevation. I unlocked the deadbolt and the doorhandle to my apartment and opened the door. I saw Eric, shaking and scared and a mess. He ran to me and hugged me tightly, breaking down in my arms. I felt something warm and wet on his side and he held in a scream of pain. I automatically let go and my hand was covered in his blood.

"Eric! You’re bleeding! What the hell happened you?! We need to get you to a hospital, right now..." I panicked and grabbed my car keys. He grabbed my arm and I turned to look at him.

"No. Don’t. He’ll find out." That was the last thing he said before he passed out on my carpet. I panicked even more and moved him onto my couch, taking off his shirt, examining his wound. It looked like he was stabbed. I barely had time to comprehend why he was stabbed. I got out a big white towel from my linen closet and held it to his side, taping it there with medical tape around his whole torso. I felt the urge to take him to the hospital, but I didn’t. I wanted to know who he was. I just sat next to him, wiping the sweat off his forehead, not saying a word until he woke up again.

His eyes fluttered open in an expression of pain. "What happened? Beau?" He asked, voice raspy and confused. He tried sitting up.

"Don’t move. Your side is really hurt. Just relax." I got up to get him some water, somewhat more comforted that he was conscious. I returned and gave him the water. "What happened, Eric? Aren’t you supposed to be at school?" I asked, looking at the clock: 11:34 am.

He sniffed. "Yeah, but my dad thought it would be a good idea for me to stay home today. He does that about once or twice a week, usually on the days that mom has to work. Today is one of those days."

"Why does he keep you home?" I asked, confused.

"Did I ever tell you that I’ve been sexually abused since I was 7 years old? By my dad?" Eric said quietly, not making eye contact with me.

I was put in utter shock by that statement. "How come you didn’t tell me this sooner?" I asked quietly, trying to process the situation.

"My dad would find about me telling people and he would beat me. I told my best friend in 7th grade about it once and he got a call from the school ‘cause I guess he told a teacher. Later after he had his fun with me—"

I cringed at the way he put it. That was so inhumane.

"— he took me outside so we wouldn’t wake my sister, who was calmly sleeping, probably dreaming of some cute guy in the third grade that she had a crush on..." He smiled as his eyes started tearing again. "So he took me out back and beat me up, almost to the point where I thought I wouldn’t see the sun the next day. Dad would’ve just blamed it on depression. He would’ve told my mom that I jumped off the roof of our apartment building and took my own life. He barely kept me alive so he wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt of death for the rest of his alcohol induced life, even if he did hate me more than anything.

"He warned me that if I told anyone what goes on in our house that the next beating would be worse. I barely understood him because I was too concentrated on my condition. I was coughing up blood and had the worst headache of my life. I was pretty sure that my organs were internally damaged and that I had a concussion, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I couldn’t even go to a hospital. I just slowly crawled back into the house, attempting to walk but falling after a few steps, more blood coming up. I came into the house as quietly as possible and slowly made my way to the bathroom to clean up.

The face staring back at me wasn’t mine. It was bruised and mangled, red with blood. I cleaned up as best as I could without either making it bleed more or making me scream in pain. I took off my shirt and examined the bruising on my stomach. It was worse than my face, looking as if the bruises would explode and bleed at any moment."

As I listened, I started crying, holding my hand in front of most of my face, looking straight at the wall. I didn’t know if I could handle this anymore. There was more after he wiped his eyes again, unbelievably.

"The beatings started becoming routine, unfortunately, along with his regular habits. Along with those were all the hateful things and harsh words he spat at me whenever I was around him. Today was the worst. He threatened me with a knife because I refused to give in to his nasty pleasures with me. I just wanted to go to school. I even threatened to move out with my sister. That’s when he stabbed me. He tried saying that it was accidental, but that’s complete bullshit. He was completely sober when he did it. Nothing to trip over, nothing to run into and make him fall..." He counted on his fingers, getting angrier as he spoke. "He did it all on his fucking own."

Before I could tell him to calm down he grabbed onto his side in pain.

"Alright, we really, really need to take you to the hospital. Your stab wound needs stitches. I don’t give a fuck if your dad comes after you, because I’m not gonna let him touch you. He’ll have to get through me first." I said, lifting him off the couch carefully and grabbing my keys again.

"Are you sure you wanna do this, Beau? Don’t underestimate him." Eric warned me.

I laughed. "A freshman in high school telling me not to underestimate their father. I know better, Eric. Who you really don’t want to underestimate is me. Just ‘cause I look scrawny don’t mean I’m weak." I closed my door behind me and opened up the back door of the car, laying him across the whole back seat. Thank god he was short. I did 15 over the speed limit all the way there, and started panicking when he started coughing. It sounded so horrible. I didn’t look back to see if he was coughing anything up, but it sounded like it.

We made it to the hospital and thankfully nothing came up. I carried him into the hospital and barged through the doors.

"Excuse me, young man! What’s going on?" The receptionist asked.

"He just got stabbed. He tried telling me not to bring him, but when I looked at it, it looked really bad. We need a doctor. Now." I said sternly.

The receptionist gasped and got a doctor on the phone for us right away. They called us back and I carried him into one of the rooms. They didn’t allow me in to watch him because I wasn’t immediate family, so I sat outside the room, unable to relax. What if the cut got infected before I cleaned it? What if the knife had rust on it?

"Hey, are you alright?" I heard a female voice ask. She had red hair and blue eyes and sported faded gray skinny jeans and a skelanimals shirt with black converse and a sweatshirt covered with different colored paint.

I nodded. "I’m sure I’ll be fine, and he’ll be fine."

She held a box of tissues in my face and sat next to me. I took a few and blew my nose.

"I’m Miranda. My friend’s here getting surgery in the next room." She held her hand out.

I took her hand and shook it. "Beau. My friend’s here too, getting stitches. Kinda sudden."

I sniffed, feeling a little better talking to someone. "Why is your friend getting surgery?"

"Well, not really surgery. She’s getting her stomach pumped. She..." I heard her voice crack. I grabbed her hand instinctively.

She smiled at me the best she could and continued. "..she tried killing herself. She swallowed every pill in her house and chugged a half bottle of vodka. All because her boyfriend broke up with her. Thankfully I found her in time. I don’t know what I would’ve done if she would’ve died." She quickly wiped her tears.

"I’m feeling the same way." I said quietly, playing with some clean tissues.

"So why does your friend need stitches?" She asked.

I didn’t know whether to answer this truthfully or make up some jackass story. "He was doing a skateboard trick and he feel off the poll and ripped his side open."

"Ow, holy shit. I hope he’s okay." Miranda said, making a disgusted face.

"Yeah, so do I." I looked at the floor, leaning on my knees.

"Mr. Bokan?" I heard the doctor say my name.

I turned to look at him, equipped with slightly bloody gloves. I cringed and got up, following him in the room.

"Is he alright?" I asked, worried.

"He’s fine, he’s going to be alright." The doctor reassured me. "Um, Beau. Did you know about any of these bruises?" He lifted up Eric’s hospital gown and showed me bruises all up and down his torso and along his arms. I covered my mouth with my palm. I shook my head. "No, sir, I had no clue. He was covered in so much blood that I barely noticed anything else..." I was going into hysterics.

"Alright, just sit down for a second, Mr. Bokan. Relax." The doctor led me to a chair beside Eric’s bed. After a few deep breaths, he started questioning me. "Now you need to tell me the truth. What really caused all this damage?"

"Before I answer, is this information confidential?" I asked.

"Absolutely." He agreed.

I breathed in deep and explained the whole situation about Eric. By the time I was done the doctor was speechless. "Has anyone told the police about this?"

I shook my head. "His dad would beat him more."

"Well someone has to do something. I’m not sending him back to that house." The doctor objected.

I was about to argue when I had an idea. "He can come live with me."

"What? No, that’s crazy-"

"I’m 21, I’m a legal adult. He can live with me. He’s only 14, for Christ’s sake, give him a break. He doesn’t need to live through this shit..I mean...stuff, any longer. And I really don’t trust foster care."

He sighed and put his face in his hands. "Are you sure you can handle that? The responsibility for him? Because most people go into it not realizing all the responsibilities."

"I know the responsibilities, sir. I had to raise my little brother, I can handle this."

He looked me straight in the eye. "Alright, I trust you, Mr. Bokan. But I’m hiring a social worker so they can check in on you to see how everything’s coming along."

I nodded and smiled. "Thank you, sir." I looked back at Eric, looking peaceful while under. I opened the door and Miranda was still sitting there, looking content.

"Hey, what was that all about?" She asked, looking more alert.

"It was nothing. Basically telling me that he’s gonna be out of here by tomorrow." I said, smiling, relieved that he’s not going to have to go back to that hell house he lives in.

"Hey, you wanna stay with me here tonight? I don’t wanna leave my friend alone tonight."

"Sure. I’ll stay. I really don’t want to leave Eric here all by himself either." I agreed.

I tried getting some sleep, as did Miranda, but we ended up staying up and talking all night. She was explaining to me how when she was 17 she moved out of her house and lived with her friend Sarah and her family. Then when Sarah was 18 they moved out and found an apartment together.

"So you’re 19?" I asked out of curiosity.

"Mmhmm. What about you? You don’t look more than 17." She asked, smirking.

I laughed. "I’m actually 21."

She dropped her jaw and just stared. "No you’re not."

"Yeah I am. Want proof? I have plenty." I pulled out my wallet and showed her my license.

She leaned back and hit the back of her chair. "Fine. I believe you."

There was a lull in conversation until Miranda spoke up again. "Hey, Beau. I know this is really soon, but are you taken by any chance?"

I almost fell out of my chair. That question came out of nowhere. "Uh, yeah, I am. Sorry."

"Oh, it’s okay. I just really like you." She said like she was unphased.

I blushed a little, slightly flattered.

"So who’s the lucky girl?" She asked, leaning on her knees, propping her head in the palm of her hand.

I laughed nervously, running my hand through my hair. "Not girl. Guy. Aaron."

She smiled. "That’s adorable. How long?"

"A few months. I think our fourth is coming up in a few weeks." I smiled.

"That is so cute. No wonder you didn’t seem interested in me." She joked.

"Well, I’m actually bi. I’ve dated a few amazing girls in my life. I guess I just prefer guys." I laughed.

She laughed as well. "I should’ve known by how amazing you dress." She laid on her stomach across the two person bench in the waiting room.

"Excuse me. Are you two staying overnight?" The receptionist came in the waiting room.

"Yeah, we were planning on it. Is there a problem?" I asked, crossing my legs.

"No, not at all. I just wanted to let you know that there’s a room down the hall a little ways that we use for people waiting for patients, if you’re interested."

"Thank you so much, we really appreciate it." Miranda said, sitting up, stretching. "Wanna go check it out?" She asked me.

"What time is it?" I asked.

She checked her phone. "About 2am."

I yawned. "Lets go."

The beds were actually really comfy. They were almost regular beds, they didn’t look like hospital beds, thank god. I would have the feeling that I was sleeping in someone else’s filth.

I laid down and almost feel asleep until Miranda took my phone off the table in between our beds.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Adding my number in your phone so you can call me if you wanna talk about anything." She flipped it closed. "Night."

I smiled and shook my head. "Night."

"What? I’m coming to live with you? Seriously? Is that even legal?" Eric asked the next morning, sounding ecstatic.

"Yeah, seriously. And it’s not illegal. I’m 21, so I can legally have you living with me." I explained, wheeling him out of the hospital.

"How are you gonna explain that to my dad?" He asked.

"We’re not. We’re going into your house, ransacking your room, grabbing all your shit, and leaving. No long explanations, nothing. Just get in and get out sorta thing, alright?" I said, helping him into my car. I wheeled the chair back into the hospital and ran into Miranda and her friend.

"Oh, I’m so sorry, are you alright?" I apologized.

"We’re fine, yeah. How’d you sleep last night, Beau? I didn’t get to see you at all this morning." Miranda asked.

"I slept really good actually. I thought I wouldn’t be able to with him in that room. Well, it was really nice meeting you, Miranda, but I have to go. He’s coming to live with me for a few weeks."

Miranda gave me a quick hug before I left. "Call whenever, okay?"

"Will do. Thanks for listening." I ran back to my car and drove off.

"Does Beau have a girlfriend?" Eric asked, smirking.

"No, Beau has Aaron and a new friend that just so happens to be a girl. You know me. I wouldn’t betray Aaron." I stopped at the stop lights.

"Yeah, I know. Hey. You guys won’t go all crazy on each other and shit now that I’m there, right?" Eric asked.

I laughed, not even thinking about that. "No, I guess we won’t. But we’re not gonna be totally off each other, either. I’ll let you know when so you can chill wherever you chill." I said, still laughing a little.

"I can’t believe I’m not going back there. You have no idea how happy this makes me." Eric said, smiling, really smiling, for the first time since I first met him.

"Yeah, no problem, kid." I messed up his hair and turned into his driveway...