Wesley laughs at my tough-guy act but doesn’t call me on it. “Thanks. Can I…can I leave it here? My…mom…she’d…”
He stops talking and doesn’t fill the silence.
She’d what? I’ve been friends with Wesley for years, and I know next to nothing about his home life, other than the small bits he shared. I’ve asked to go to his place, but he always tells me no. The only reason I know where he lives is because my mom dropped him off at home a few times. I have no idea what his room looks like, what kind of furniture and shit they have, nothing.
Will his mom break it? Will she take it from him? Will she laugh at his dreams of wanting to be a singer?
I wish I could ask him, I wish I was brave enough to pry into his life, but if I do, I’ll lose the best friend I’ve ever had.
So, I fill the uncomfortable silence once again. “Yeah. Grab it when you want. You can play it here whenever.”
“Thanks, Jax.”
I smile as I stare at the ceiling, glad he came here when he needed a safe place.
TWO
WESLEY
Death and sin sticks to my skin and drowns me….
I wear it like a shroud, pulled tightly around me…
The demons that plague my dreams get off on the debauchery…
Nightmares come true, but just like you
They’re hard to hold on to…
One day I’ll have you in my grasp, and I’ll own you.
And you’ll be mine, my twisted deadly valentine.
Words pourfrom me as the sounds of banging and moaning come from the next room. My stomach roils as I try and fail to ignore my mother getting fucked by one of her johns. They’ve been at it for nearly an hour, the noises almostinhuman.
I can’t fucking wait to leave this house.
I turn the music in my headphones up as loud as I can, but the volume isn’t the best, and the sounds of sex still sneak through.
Still, I try to ignore it as the words for another song almost burst from me. My fingers itch to get to Jax’s guitar to strum the chords. It’ll be a grittier song, nothing like the ballads I usually sing only for him.
Well, it wouldn’t be Jax’s guitar anymore, would it? It’s mine.
I have a guitar.
For the first time in over a week, I smile. Jax gave me his guitar. Sure, he doesn’t play it often, but it’s an expensive instrument, a Fender American. A guitar I could only dream of owning, and he just…let me have it.
With one last loud grunt, the moaning on the other side of the wall falls silent. But it doesn’t last long. Not even five minutes later, the bed thumps against the wall, and moans and groans drift through the air once more.
Usually, I’d be able to tune her out, but it’s impossible tonight. I’m still raw from last week, and the sounds of pleasure make bile rise in my throat.
Fuck this shit. I’ll go over to Jax’s house. His mom said I could come over. I don’t have a way to call her to pick me up, but I don’t think she’ll mind if I walk this one time. At least I hope she doesn’t.
I pack a bag of filthy clothes and tuck my notebook at the bottom of the bag. Maybe I can wash my school clothes without Mrs. Collins knowing. Their washer and dryer are in the basement, so there’s a good chance I can get away with it.
Once I’m packed, I open the door as silently as I can,though I shouldn’t worry. The loud screams and moans coming from my mom’s room drown out any noise I make.
Before I can take more than two steps, a hard slap lands on the back of my head, and I stumble into the wall, barely catching myself from falling.
