Louie.

Holding Rockwell was brief, but then again one moment can feel like forever.

He pulled away before I did, my body was reluctant but I did it anyway. Our faces were inches apart, and his eyes were staring into my soul. I stopped breathing and I could feel my stomach drop. His gaze was strong, so I broke it and found myself looking at the faint freckles dusting his nose and cheeks. Then I looked at his lips, the way they moved and how his teeth were perfectly aligned, not a bright white but still close.

Then his facial expression changed, eyes squeezing shut and he said my name through clenched teeth.

I thought I might be crushing him so I started to stand up.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, watching his discomfort.

“Can you give me my pain meds? They’re on the drawer.”

My eyes snapped to where he was reaching when I walked into the room. The pill bottle was out of his reach, along with a brand new water bottle. I grabbed both.

“Do you need an icepack?” I asked, glancing at him.

“Top drawer.”

Rockwell carefully scooted himself over and adjusted his pillows to elevate his leg. I sat on the edge of his bed, opening the water and handing it to him, then opening the pill bottle. He took everything from, and for a second it felt like it was a routine. Like I’ve done this before. Like I helped him all the time

The plastic, room temperature pouch began to cool down once I squeezed it and shook its contents. Rockwell gave me the meds so I placed them on his desk, which was closer.

Rockwell wedged the ice pack between his cast and skin, but I could tell it wasn’t enough.

“Do you want food?” What a shitty thing to say, nice going Ben.

I couldn’t stand his reaction so I looked away from him and at the lasagna.

“Yeah.”

So I served some for the both of us and somewhere along the way his music stopped playing. Things got quiet and the only thing left to fill the silence was the fan in his room and our forks scraping against the plates.

Then I blanked out.

I was stuck looking at the threads that made up his blankets and the material of my sweatpants.

“Am I wrong?” Rockwell voice broke through my trance. I furrowed my eyebrows and looked at him but he was looking out the window.

“Am I wrong for being mad at Lorraine?” He clarified.

“What happened?” Words passed my lips before I even processed them. I could feel the mood shift. Rockwell bowed his head and he didn’t look at me.

Rockwell wasn’t the loud-mouth, foul-language dropper anymore, and then I realized that he hadn’t been for a whileor maybe he never really was. He looked sad,and I didn’t like that.

“I. . . I’ve know her my whole life. We’ve been through everything together. . .she doesn’t care that I’m. . .” Rockwell hesitated for a moment, but then he looked at me, straight in the eye.

“I’m gay.” I know.

I think he was testing the waters, checking to see If I even cared, but I didn’t. We were passed asking if I cared.

“I don’t care,” I said, but it sounded harsh. Rockwell smiled, like he was going to laugh but then was sad again.

“But some people do. . . but Lorraine always avoided them, she stuck with me. Then she made some new friends. . . and they didn’t like who I was, but they were subtle. Lorraine never caught on, but I did. I didn’t think they’d do anything, Then we went to that stupid party and she was acting like an idiot. She was all over some guy, trying to keep his attention. And he was a douche bag, but apparently she was too stupid to realize it,” he was getting angry.

“His friends kept dropping comments and then I realized the dirty looks people were giving me. Then it all happened so fast. . . he was too close to her, I didn’t like the way he had his hands on her. So I stepped up and asked him to give her space. . and the way Lorraine fucking looked at me. . . at me. . . I couldn’t believe it. That for a moment she chose an asshole over me, and then they started to pick on me. To insult me, to call me names just because of who I am. I was livid at that point and I got in one of their faces, and he pushed me, so I shoved him back. But then one of his friends pulled me back, and the other punched me. I stepped wrong and twisted my leg. . . and I felt the pop. . .” Rockwell wasn’t in the present, he was in the past. His eyes had the faraway look in them, I could feel my stomach squeezing unpleasantly.

“I fell, and I tried to pop my leg back but they were all towering over me. . . I was so fucking scared.” I heard a sharp intake of air and his voice cracked, and I knew exactly what was happening. I moved closer to him and pulled him to me. Rockwell didn’t resist, his hands scrunched the fabric of my shirt. His back started to shake, so I held him tighter, one hand rubbing circles into his back.

“I was so fucking scared, Ben, and Lorraine didn’t do anything. She was just looking at me and I felt stuck. My leg wasn’t okay anymore and I couldn’t get up and no one was helping me. Everyone was judging me and I was so afraid that they would put there hands on me. I got up, somehow I fucking got up but my leg wasn’t okay and I was freaking out because it hurt so much to put my weight on it. So I went for the closet and I had Lorraine’s phone so I texted Beth. I didn't want to sit down but I tripped and I felt the pop again. . . and it was normal but it fucking hurt and I was still so fucking scared.” He was straight out balling now, his words were rushed, and high pitched. I felt him pulling at my shirt and I felt like throwing up.

I didn’t like the image of what really happened. I didn’t like that they put their hands on him like that and that he was that terrified.

I cupped his face and looked at him, thumbs trying their best to wipe away the tears. Rockwell’s face was red and he looked afraid. I pressed my forehead against his, eyes watching is, hands holding him still.

“I’ve got you” I said, softly.

I got lost in his eyes and I realized that I was a goner.

His tears stopped and he closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. His hands cupped mine and I felt my stomach drop again.

How did I get here?

Our faces were so close, out breaths were mixing.

But this isn’t the time for that.

And I think Rockwell realized it too, because we gave each other a lit bit of space. His hands let go of mine and I let go of his face.

I should go. This is too much.

I could feel myself closing up again and I think Rockwell noticed too.

“Stay Ben, let me kick your ass at Call of Duty.” His voice was different. Rockwell was changing the subject, he wanted me to stay. I wasn’t sure if I should.

“Ben.” Although he said my name it felt like he was telling me to stay. I was starting to feel super uneasy and self-conscious. Shit.

“I’ve got you.” The way Rockwell said it was a lot different than when I said it. There was hidden just one game.

When I looked into his eyes I felt my stomach drop again and I realized that I was fucked.

“Okay.”