-Theo-

I would've loved to know why Deon was so nice to me. We spent the afternoon just driving around. We didn't talk much, but there wasn't really anything to talk about. Beau was all I could think of, and Deon seemed to be deep in his own thoughts. At some point he drove us to the beach and parked the car at the side of the road, turned the engine off and focused his eyes on the sea. Neither of us spoke a word in a long time.

I didn't mind the silence – I just wanted to wallow in my sadness.

I couldn't believe Beau had fooled me like that. I'd let my hopes up, only to be crushed by him all over again. This time it didn't hurt as much as it had the first time, but it still hurt too much.

"I want to die," I said out loud. At first, I wasn't sure if Deon had heard me. He stayed silent for a moment before he let out a sigh.

"There are plenty of people who wish they could live," he spoke quietly. "People with cancer and shit."

"Tell me how, and I'll give my life to someone else," I said. "Someone who deserves to be alive."

"You should be more grateful," Deon said and turned the engine on again. "If you hate your life, do something about it. Change it."

"How?" I muttered, but he heard me.

"Don't be such a whiny bitch. High school is over soon, and then you'll get away from all those idiots," Deon said, and continued quietly, "Then you're free to do whatever you want."

"Why do you care?" I asked in frustration. "Why would you care about me?"

"I don't," he said shortly. "I thought we had established that already."

I shook my head. "Whatever."

"Look. I really, really want you to understand that I do not care about you. I've said it countless times, but it's still not sinking in! Tell me, what can I say to make you believe me?" he asked angrily.

"Well if you really don't care about me, why am I here?" I snapped at him. "Why did you drag me with you? Why did you buy me the ice cream? Why are we driving around? Help me understand what the hell is going on here!"

"No," Deon said.

"No?" I repeated.

"I don't need to explain anything," he said nonchalantly. "Oh, and I'm not coming to school tomorrow."

"What? Why?" I asked and my mood dropped even lower.

"None of your business," he said coldly.

I stared at him for a couple of seconds before I sighed heavily, and muttered, "Great."

"Maybe you'll learn to appreciate me while I'm gone," Deon grunted.

I didn't answer him. I'd get beat up again – that was for sure. Neither of us spoke in a while, and I was pretty sure he wouldn't open his mouth anymore. I had the feeling he was trying to decide whether or not to throw me out of his car.

"Just stay hidden and you'll be fine," he said suddenly, breaking the icy silence.

So now he was back at being friendly again.

"I give up," I sighed and shook my head.

"On what?" he asked.

"Trying to figure you out," I said shortly.

"Finally!" he breathed out dramatically.

I snorted at him, but then started laughing quietly. I wasn't even sure why I was laughing exactly, but the whole situation was so absurd that all I could do was laugh. I saw Deon looking at me with a confused frown, but I couldn't stop laughing for long enough to explain anything.

"You're so fucked up," he muttered and concentrated on the road.

"So are you," I snickered.

He gave me another short look, but then he shook his head and laughed too. By the time we reached my home, we both were laughing hysterically, and I had no idea how on earth Deon had managed to keep the car on the road.

"Why are you laughing?" I asked when he stopped the car.

"I have no fucking idea," he chuckled and wiped tears from his cheeks. "Man, I haven't laughed this much since... Since ever."

I laughed a little more, but then something in his eyes caught my interest. He looked... Sad. He was rubbing his chest absentmindedly with a tired smile on his lips, and I had the feeling he was thinking about something.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Huh?" he turned to look at me, and his mood turned one hundred and eighty degrees. "Nothing's wrong. Get the fuck out of here."

I stared at him for a moment, but he was getting angrier by the second.

"Fine, I'm going, I'm going," I muttered and gathered my stuff. "Thanks for the ice cream."

He didn't reply to me, so I got out of the car and closed the door. When I turned to wave at him for goodbye, he had already hit the gas pedal, and his Mustang sped away. I let out a deep sigh and rolled my eyes. I wondered if Deon had any friends, since he really sucked at making them.

"Don't be ridiculous," I scolded myself. "No one wants to be friends with me."

Deon just needed me to carry his bag at school, nothing more. No, he didn't need me – he was just having fun at my expense. He was probably going to see his friends and tell them all about how stupid I truly was, and they all would have a good laugh.

My posture dropped along with my mood, and I turned to walk to the front door. For a moment there, I really thought that Deon wanted to be my friend.

How utterly stupid I truly was.

*****

"You should die," I told myself later that day.

I was staring at my reflection in the mirror once again, and I hated everything I saw. "You really should."

It wasn't enough that Beau had crushed me, and Deon had made fun of me. The principal had called my dad and told him that if I skipped another class, he would expel me for good. My father couldn't care less about my education, but he still spent almost an hour yelling at me. At one point I thought he'd hit me, but he grabbed another beer instead.

"Your mom would be disappointed," he'd grunted as his last words before opening the TV and letting me go to my room.

"I'm sorry, Mom," I sniffed. "I miss you so much... I don't want to be a disappointment."

But I was. Everything I did, everything I tried to do... I only ended up disappointing her. She probably regretted having me.

I turned my back on the mirror and exited the bathroom. I grabbed my bag from the floor and sat down next to my desk, then took my black notebook and turned to a fresh page.

"Disappointment," I breathed out and began writing.

I wondered if my mom hated me for being gay. I didn't recall her ever saying bad things about anyone, but everyone thought gays were abominations, so maybe she felt the same way? How disappointed would she have been if she knew what I had become? Was she disgusted about her youngest son liking other boys?

She would've definitely been disappointed to hear how horrible my grades were. She would've been disappointed to find out I had no friends. And even if she still loved me, even though I was gay, she would've been disappointed with how I looked, how I dressed, how little I ate...

I let out a long breath when I was finished writing the word 'disappointment' on the page.

"Would you be disappointed if I killed myself now?" I asked quietly, wishing she'd answer me.

But she didn't. She never did, and never would.

"I miss you so much," I whispered, my sight getting blurry as the tears started rolling down on my cheeks.

I crossed my arms on the desk and rested my forehead on top of them, letting the tears fall down on my notebook. I had no idea what to do. I didn't have the strength to carry on, but I didn't want to die either – not really. No matter how sick and tired I was of my life, I still was stupid enough to keep trying. Maybe I was a coward, or maybe the thought of my mom kept me going. Or... Maybe I was foolish enough to still believe, after all this time, that everything would change for the better.

I heard my phone making a silent beep at some point, but I ignored it. I was too miserable to even move, but when I heard the sound for the second time, I pushed myself to sit up on the seat. I searched my phone from my bag and stared at the screen. I had two new messages.

From Beau.

I frowned and almost threw the phone away without reading the messages, but my curiosity won, and I opened the first one. Beau asked why I hadn't come to school that day, and in the next message he said he had hoped to see me.

"No, you didn't," I muttered, but I felt butterflies in my stomach.

I wasn't sure what to reply to him, or if I should say anything at all. I was done being hurt by him, but I couldn't help but feel happy he still remembered my existence.

I hesitated for a long time before I quickly typed 'I was sick' and sent it to Beau. I waited for a couple of minutes for his answer, trying to decide what to tell him if he asked why I was sick, but his next text was even shorter than the others.

'See you tomorrow?'

My first reaction was to tell him yes, but then I remembered Sabrina. Beau's girlfriend.

'I saw you with Sabrina today,' I wrote, and pressed 'send' without giving it a second thought. I had to wait almost five minutes before he replied to me.

'That's complicated,' he said without explaining.

I frowned when I read it. How could it be complicated? He was dating Sabrina, so unless he was going to dump her, there wasn't a chance for me.

'I'm still sick, so I can't come to school tomorrow,' I told him.

It technically wasn't a lie. I didn't care if I got expelled from school, and since Deon wasn't going to be there either, I was better off staying home.

'Okay,' was Beau's reply, and after that he didn't send any new messages.

I put the phone away and stared into nothingness for a while. Beau's kiss had thrown me off balance, and I had started to imagine things that would never happen. I was so damn tired of being hurt all the time. I was so tired of crying all the time. Beau's messages had seemed cold. I couldn't tell if he really wanted to hang out with me after all, and it made me feel sad.

I stared at the dirty floor, trying to remember what it was like to be a happy, carefree teenager. I had almost forgotten what it was like, but... not quite. I wasn't sure why, but Beau's coldness didn't hurt quite as much as I had believed it would. First, I thought I'd grown a little more emotionless during the past four months. Maybe I was just getting used to being hurt.

Or maybe it had something to do with one particular jerk who had bought me my favorite ice cream just so I wouldn't go and do something stupid.

I picked up my phone again and typed a new message.

'Thanks for the ice cream. It really meant a lot to me.'

I put the phone down and was about to stand up, when it let out a small buzz. I picked it up and read Deon's reply.

'It was just ice cream.'

'For me it was more, so thank you,' I told him, and I didn't need to wait long for him to answer.

'Fine, whatever,' the message said.

I smiled a little. Maybe 'whatever' was his way of saying 'you're welcome'. At least I liked to think that.

*****

I got up from the bed early on the next morning and took a shower before Dad or Allen woke up. I really didn't want to go to school that day, but since Dad would get mad at me if I stayed home, I had to go. I really did not want to, but I had to.

I had to leave early if I wanted to avoid getting in trouble, so I washed my hair hastily before scrubbing my skin with a sponge. My stomach twisted unpleasantly when I thought about spending the day without Deon by my side, and I almost decided to stay at home after all.

Then I thought about Mom. She would've wanted me to go, and I let out a deep sigh.

"All right, I'll go..." I muttered.

When I stepped out of the shower and reached for my towel, I saw a glimpse of my chest in the mirror. I had multiple green-and-yellow spots all over me, but not a single black or blue one. It was amazing how fast bruises healed when I wasn't getting any new ones. I had almost started to believe they never healed because I always got new ones on top of the old ones.

I wondered how many new ones I'd have the next time I looked at myself in the mirror. Sean, Drake, Glen and all the others would find me. They always did, and I'd get hurt. I shivered when I thought about it as I went to find clean clothes to wear.

An hour later, I stepped inside through the gates of our school. It was raining, and my feet were already soaking wet. I was way too early, so it would take a long time before the janitor opened the doors, and I'd get safe from the rain.

I tried to find a place where I could hide without getting wetter. I had my black umbrella, but the weather was getting worse by the minute, making the umbrella more inconvenient than useful as the wind kept trying to take it from me.

I looked up at the sky as I walked through the yard towards the main building. It was going to be a stormy day, and it reflected my mood perfectly. There was a turmoil inside me. I tried to avoid thinking about Beau and his mixed signals. I tried to avoid thinking about Sean and the fact he was going to remind me about my life before Deon. And I tried to avoid thinking about Deon and his bipolar attitude towards me.

But it all was useless. I had a million questions in my head, and not enough answers. I was so confused about everything that my stomach was getting upset too. I felt physically sick whenever I tried to understand anything.

With those thoughts in mind, I wandered around the main building until I spotted a small spot of dry ground next to the wall at the backside of the school, under a small roof. It wasn't hidden from the view, but at least I'd be safe from the rain.

I ran towards it, but slipped on the wet grass. I managed to maintain my balance, but I hurt my ankle. I was pretty sure it wasn't anything severe because I could walk just fine, but with everything else going on, after the sleepless night and being outside in the cold rain, I almost started to cry out of misery.

I limped the rest of the way and sat down on the dry gravel next to the wall. The roof gave me just enough shelter from the rain, but my clothes were already wet and the wind was chilly. When I wasn't moving anymore, I started to shiver. I rubbed my hurting ankle halfheartedly and cursed myself for not taking a jacket – the wet hoodie was sticking onto my skin without giving me much comfort.

I looked at the clock on my phone. I still had to wait almost an hour before the first class would start. I'd probably freeze to death before that. It was a comforting thought. I was so miserable and so confused that the dark thoughts started to emerge.

I'd be better off dead.

I watched the wind tossing trash around the yard, and I found it somehow soothing. I was just like those small pieces of trash. People pushed me around however they pleased and ignored me when I didn't get up from the ground. Then, when I'd finally find the strength to get up, they would start again. I couldn't help but wonder if that was exactly what Beau was doing to me.

No. I shook my head. That wasn't the Beau I knew. I remembered him as a kind and caring person. He had explained to me why he acted like a jerk, and I hadn't even given him a chance to explain what was going on between him and Sabrina.

I'd been fast to jump to conclusions before, and it had never worked out too well for me. After all, Beau hadn't said anything about wanting to date me. He'd only wished we could be friends again. I wasn't sure why he had kissed me, but I wanted to believe he was just as confused as I was. Maybe he was scared too.

For some reason, I felt better and calmer. I leaned my back against the wall and decided to talk to Beau and let him explain what he meant by saying the thing with Sabrina was complicated.

The rain started to pour down even harder as the minutes passed. I was still safe from getting wet, but the moment the wind changed direction, I'd get soaked. I tried to find a better position on the hard ground, curling up against the wall. I had my arms tightly around me, sheltering myself from the cold. I stared right in front of me, not really seeing anything. All I could see was Beau, even when he wasn't there.

There was no one around, but I still kept my eyes out on anything that moved. Both of the corners were far away, and I could spot anyone who approached me, so I had plenty of time to run away if needed. And since I was behind the school where people usually didn't come, I thought I'd be safe.

Except I wasn't. The sleepless night had taken its toll on me, and I dozed off after a while. How stupid of me. A sudden, sharp jolt of pain on my side woke me up, and when I opened my eyes, the first and last thing I saw was Sean's mean smile and his fist approaching my face, sending me back into unconsciousness.

*****

The next time I woke up, I was lying in a soft, warm bed. It took me a moment to realize it didn't feel like my own bed. My bed was hard and my covers were thinner than the one I had now. It took a lot of effort to open my eyes to see where I was, and when I finally did, I found myself in someone else's room. I didn't see anyone around, but I was still in too much pain to get up from the bed and look around.

I gazed at the room lazily, studying everything I saw closely. The room was clean and neatly organized. There was a small desk under a huge window, and a big bookshelf next to it, filled with books, magazines and DVD's.

At the other side of the room there was a double-seated couch and a small flatscreen TV in front of it on the opposite wall. The whole room was decorated black and white, and I liked it a lot. It was almost twice as big as my own, and it even smelled nicer.

Soon enough, I heard someone approaching the room, and I saw a woman in her forties stepping inside. She had kind brown eyes and long blonde hair in a ponytail. She didn't look much shorter than me, and she had a lean but feminine figure.

"Good, you're awake already," she said with a warm tone in her voice as she stepped next to the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Um, fine I guess," I said. "Where am I?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Mia Steele, but you can call me Mia. I'm Deon's mom," she explained with a smile on her face. "And this is our home."

"Why am I here?" I asked, maybe a bit rudely without meaning to.

"The school wasn't open yet," I heard a low voice near the door. "I brought you here."

I turned my head and saw Deon leaning against the doorway. He was wearing black chinos and a tight, black tank top, and his long hair was in a casual bun.

"I'm a doctor, so you don't need to worry about anything," Mia told me encouragingly. "You need to get some rest, but otherwise you're fine."

"Thank you," I said quietly. "I think I should go now..." I added with a mutter and tried to get up from the bed.

"I don't think so, young man," Mia said sternly. "You'll stay here and rest. I'll call your parents so they won't get worried."

"My dad is at work, so I don't think he'll answer," I muttered, not really wanting Deon's mom to call him.

"Give me his number and I'll try," she said with a smile. "He needs to let your teacher know you can't come today."

"Mom..." Deon suddenly said with a quiet voice and shook his head a little when she turned to look at him.

They both exchanged short looks, but it seemed more like an actual conversation, only without the words. Mia's expression dropped, and she turned to look at me.

"So you're the boy Deon spent last Friday with," she said slowly, and I could see something click in her head.

She looked at me with worry and sympathy in her eyes, and I could tell Deon had told her about my family. I turned to look at Deon, but when our eyes met, he quickly turned to look away. I felt betrayed. Whatever happened in my home was none of his business, and I sure as hell didn't want to get in trouble with my dad if an outsider came to snoop around.

"I really should go now," I grunted, ignoring Mia, who tried to stop me.

I tossed the thick blanket off me... And noticed I was only wearing my underwear. Mia looked away courteously while I pulled the covers back on me, feeling embarrassed. There was no chance in hell that Mia hadn't noticed my bruised skin. I'd just made things worse for myself.

"Your clothes were soaking wet," Deon chuckled. "It takes a while until they're dry, so you better get some rest."

"He's right," Mia said sternly. "You need to rest," she added and walked to her son. "Keep an eye on him, will you?"

Deon nodded and sat down on his couch while his mom walked out of the room, leaving us alone. I really wished Mia wasn't going to call my dad, and if she did, I wished even harder she wouldn't mention my injuries. Dad would only get furious at me for getting him in trouble for neglecting me and Allen.

I sighed and lay back down against the soft pillows. "How did you find me? I thought you weren't coming to school today," I asked, trying to get something else to think.

"Well, lucky for you, my doctor's appointment was canceled," he said. "I saw you and Sean from the parking lot."

I nodded weakly. "My jaw hurts," I said quietly, rubbing my cheek gently.

"He managed to hit you once before I got to you," Deon said apologetically. "Seems like I can't leave you alone even for a moment."

"How is Sean?" I asked out of curiosity – Deon didn't look hurt.

"He ran after a few hits," Deon chuckled, looking really pleased with himself. "I believe one of the teachers saw him hitting you, so things might get pretty messy from here."

"It's all right. They've seen me getting my ass kicked before, so..." I trailed off when I saw Deon's furious look.

"They know about what you're going through?" he asked angrily.

"I... I think... Yeah..." I muttered. "But why do you care, anyway?"

"Stop fucking asking that already! I told you, didn't I?" Deon raised his voice and leaned forward on his couch in a threatening manner. "Why does everyone keep thinking I'm an asshole?"

I stared at him with wide eyes for a moment. For a guy who kept saying he didn't care what people thought about him, he got pretty mad at me. He rubbed his temples and sighed angrily without continuing, so I gathered all my courage to speak up my mind.

"You said you have to help me, but I know you were going to say something else," I said tentatively. "Why do you think you have to help me?"

"I don't have to help you," Deon spat at me, but once again he failed to explain anything to me.

"Then what is it? You can tell me. I won't laugh or tell anyone or anything," I pleaded – I was going nuts soon if he didn't tell me why.

He gave me an ugly look, but eventually he sighed and leaned back against the couch.

"I just want to do something right," he said quietly. "I've done a lot of bad things, and I want to... I don't know... Make a difference at least once. Do something good for a change."

That was the first time I saw him looking almost... fragile.

"Oh," I said quietly, not knowing what else to say.

"I really meant what I said the other day. I hate to see people getting hurt by someone who is bigger and stronger than them. When I saw your bruises I really felt bad for you," he said and laughed with a sad tone in his voice. "I hate violence."

That was surprising to hear. He was known for getting into fights a lot. I'd learned a lot about him during the past couple of days, and he sure was quite different from what I had expected.

"I want us to be friends," I told him truthfully, but his mood changed drastically.

"Well I don't, so stop thinking about it," he said harshly and got up on his feet. "I told you, it will never happen," he continued and stormed out of the room.

I sighed and closed my eyes in frustration. Why was he being so weird? Why did he react so strongly every time I mentioned our friendship? The way I saw it, we were friends. Maybe not good ones, but at least it seemed like we were friends. So why was he acting like that? There was something bothering him.

Something – like a secret.