Splintered Hearts

Three

Noah

Who the fuck allowed the sun to have so much audacity?

My eyeballs throb inside my skull. Last night was barely worth the hell I’m in now.

I attempt to open one eye, then snap it closed.

Stupid ball of fire in the sky!

Worse than the pain in my eyes is the lingering scent of my best friend—a hell in itself. I’m not sure what it’s called. Probably one of those manly bro soaps with overly masculine names they sell in the body-wash aisle at the supermarket. Probably something like Kraken asshole or Satan taint.

I’m not sure. What I am sure of is that I’m not at home.

I’m not in my bed with the smell of peach and vanilla and... oh yeah, bonus points, my father tried to kill me because I’m gay.

Fantastic.

I hear the door creak open, and footsteps. Then light assaults my eyes as the heathen I call my best friend bathes the room in harsh sunshine. “Come on!” Groaning into the pillow, I wonder how hard I’d have to press my face against it to smother myself.

“Rise and shine, sweet cheeks.” Mark slaps my ass. “Damn, that’s a firm ass.”

“You should remember. It’s where you spent most of your sophomore year.”

“Ew. Why?”

“You spanked me!” I roll onto my back and splay my arms across his bed. “Kill me ah—” I wheeze as Mark’s weight lands on top of me. “Get off!” He listens, only to rip the blankets off as I try to wrap them around my head. “I’m going to kill you. Then I’ll console Hunter while he grieves you—don’t worry, it won’t be for long—then I’ll make him mine.”

“Hunter doesn’t find you attractive.”

I snort. “Sure thing, babe. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“You’re an asshole. Come on. No more moping. I’ve watched you drink yourself stupid for days now. It’s adulting time.”

“Do I look like an adulty adult to you?” Mark pulls me upright, and my brain sloshes in my skull. Okay, maybe he’s right. My recovery time hasn’t been the same since I turned twenty-two.

“You’re probably the least adulty adult I’ve ever met.”

“You just want me out so you can get dicked down in peace.” Not that I blame him. My stomach twists. I’m being a dick and I know it. “Sorry.”

Mark pulls me into his arms, while I try so damn hard to block out the memories of fists and shoes flying into my ribs. I’m no stranger to being hit by my father, but beaten? What would he have done if I’d stayed? “I’m not going to watch you sit here for one more day and let him win. What’s done is done. You’re free.”

“I will get it together.” Tomorrow. Tomorrow’s an excellent day to get my shit together.

“Hunter came home this morning. Do you mind if we have our bed back?”

“Of course. It’s your bed, your house.” Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I try and breathe through the nausea, then collapse on my side in a boneless heap, opting not to deal right now. Mark doesn’t move, he just places a hand on my back and rubs it. “I would ask to be a third, but your naked body repulses me.”

“My naked body used to turn you on.”

“I’m nauseous. Don’t make it worse.” College had been a whirlwind of orgasms for us, but that shit ended, and now neither of us is proud of our dark and dirty past.

“I think you should eat. Get some water. Puke if you have to. Go out for a run. Do something. Just stop letting him win.” Mark squeezes my arm. “I love you.”

“Gross.” He slaps the back of my head. Shower, eat, and maybe read at some point today? I can do that. Take todayto catch up... feel better. Maybe I could find a library at some point. Books make everything better. “Oh, what’s the name of the body wash you use?”

Mark’s face scrunches. “Night Panther?”

“Ah, yes. That sounds about right.” A wave of nausea rolls through me like a bullet train as I try to get up. “Kill me now.”

“I mean it. No more binge drinking. It won’t change what happened. It’s not your—”

“I should have been more careful.”

“You living at home at twenty-two is the problem, Mr. Nepo Baby.”

“Fuck off—”

Mark cups my face, holding me still when I try to flinch away. “You being gay is not the problem. I know you know that. There is no queer man on earth more proud of who he is than you. There is nothing wrong with you, me, or Hunter. It’s your father who’s fucked in the head. Not us.”

I know that, deep down, but I still can’t shake the look he had—pure, heart-wrenching hatred. It wiggled something loose in me. Something deep I’ve kept hidden my entire life. All I ever wanted was my father’s approval, even when it meant hiding myself away.

He kisses my temple and I flinch away. “Don’t be gross.” Mark ignores me, going to his dresser and grabbing clothes. “They may be a bit long. Just roll them up. We’ll go out today, get you some things. There are a couple of thrift stores downtown.”

“A library?”

“Yeah, we can do that too. Jamie’s mother is the director. She’s sweet.”

Hunter’s mysterious friend . “That sounds good. Thank you.” While I’ve managed to save more than most people, I’m still nervous with my money. At least I had time before shit got serious. “Let me shower and see if my gorgeous round ass will fit in these sweats.” Unfortunately, in my rush to leave I’d grabbed no sweats or sleepwear of any kind. I did grab my e-reader, book logs, and ear buds, though, so my priorities were in the right place even under duress.

Who needs to wear pants anyway.

I reach for Mark and he tenses, before realizing I’m not actually going to pinch his nipples. “Thank you for everything.” And as he hugs me back, I feel a tiny smile on my lips.

“That sounded like it physically hurt you,” he says and I laugh, breaking the hug. “You smell like a bar. Please shower.”

“Can I use your tiger-pussy soap?”

Mark’s face pinches. “What... Yeah, just go shower.”

“Hey.” Hunter’s cooking at the stove, wearing a pair of black sweats and nothing else. Damn. While I’m not attracted to Hunter in that way, I know a hottie when I see one—love that for Mark.

The smell of bacon turns my stomach. Even on my best days, I hate it. It doesn’t matter, though, whatever Hunter puts in front of me, I’ll eat. “Drink this.” He slides a thick green juice over.

“What the fuck is this?”

“It looks gross, but just give it a chance. You might like it.”

“Is that what you told yourself when you met Mark?” Hunter closes his eyes, breathing deeply, and grabbing the cup, I swallow it down. I feel a little better after the shower. My nausea faded with the pounding in my skull. I still don’t have the desire to eat, but that’s most likely just depression, not my hangover.

Hunter puts food on the table, and the ache in my stomach doubles. “Mark dumped your vodka.”

Shit . “Good.”

“It looked expensive.”

“It was.”

“Your father’s?”

I nod. On my way out the back through the kitchen, I’d grabbed a bottle of vodka that probably cost a year’s mortgage on this house. I also smashed his aged bottle of whiskey on the floor because I hated whiskey and was petty as fuck. If being gay wasn’t the nail in our relationship coffin, that sure as shit will be. It was the only bottle like it in the world. Just more stupid shit that rich people held onto to make themselves seem more important.

“Good, then.”

Walking in with a bright smile, Mark wraps his arms around Hunter’s waist from behind. It hits something so deep inside me, I hate it. Jealousy. Not of them, just of what they have. I’d give anything to experience even a sliver of that.

What would it be like to have someone’s whole face brighten upon seeing me? It’d feel like flying, I just know it, but for now I’ll leave it to my books to give me romance. They never let me down.

Blinking back tears, I focus on the ass-flavored juice in front of me. It’s not that bad, it’s just a little sweet, with some other flavor I’m not brave enough to ask about. Mark kisses Hunter’s face before finding his lips. “We shouldn’t,” Hunter whispers.

“It’s fine.” I rest my cheek in my hand, taking another sip. “Seriously, what the fuck is this?”

“You made him your chicken-breast smoothie?”

“Chicken breast? Why the fuck is it green?”

“Vegetables.”

“Mark, I think you should end this now. I’m concerned for your health and safety.” Leaning back, I swig the rest, because I hate to admit but it’s helping my stomach.

Hunter slides into the chair next to me. “I know it’s soon, but you should talk to someone about what happened. Kicking you out was one thing, but almost—”

“No offense, but nothing will make my father hate me less. I can’t unblow that guy he caught me with. He can’t unsee what he saw. I can’t unfeel my father’s four-thousand-dollar shoes in my ribs.”

“You’re right,” Hunter says, finally. “Topic change, then. My friends are throwing me a party tomorrow night. I think you should come—”

“No.” Mark’s abruptness startles both Hunter and me.

“It’ll be fun. Drinking. Games.”

“And Jamie,” Mark says.

“Can you please give whatever weird feud you two have a rest? One night,” Hunter sighs.

“It’s not a feud. Your friend is an asshole.”

“Jamie?”

“One of my best friends,” Hunter corrects.

“And why do you two hate each other?” I ask.

“Because he’s an asshole.”

“Becauuuuse they’re both stubborn shit heads, that’s why.”

“Ah. Understood.” I set my empty glass down. I refuse to admit I liked it.

“It’s just going to be friends getting together. A bonfire. Good food. It’ll be fun. I’m going to go help his brother set up.”

“Why isn’t your roommate setting up your party?”

“Because he’s an asshole.” Mark mutters.

“Because...” Hunter glares at him. “His brother helps him out. He’s got some health issues, a lot of pain, especially in his back. Some days are worse than others. He needs help sometimes.”

“Babysitter,” Mark coughs into his hand.

“You’re starting to piss me off.” All the air gets sucked out of the room. “I know you don’t like him but I want one day. That’s all I’m asking. I think after being real patient this last week, I deserve that.” Hunter plates some food, sliding it roughly over to Mark, then walks out.

“Why do I feel like I’m in trouble?”

“Just eat,” Mark grumbles. I try, but can’t stop thinking about the party. I love parties, and what better way to take my mind off shit. “I’ll take you shopping. Maybe get you an air mattress for tonight.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch, it’s fine.” There’s no way I’m letting Mark accommodate me anymore. There isn’t even enough room for an air mattress in the living room. Between my crying and drinking the last few days, I owe my friend big time.

I owe Hunter too.

“Hey.” Looking up, I jump, feeling Mark’s hand on my knee. “It’s fine. You’d do the same for me, okay? Finish up.”

I nod, while Mark stands and starts cleaning up the table around me. “Hunter, he—”

“It’s fine.” Mark gives me a weak smile. “I’m going to go talk to him.”

He leaves me in the quiet of the kitchen. So many things have gone wrong lately, but I’m not going to ruin my best friend’s relationship. Today’s the last day I’m going to just laze around.

Tomorrow is a new start.

It’s time I start being myself.