Date: Sun, 7 Sep 2008 08:00:28 -0700
From: Rory Lachlan <tearsdry66@gmail.com>
Subject: Beautiful Tragedy Ch.2

Beautiful Tragedy
Chapter Two

Friday came faster than I had expected it to. I stood outside in the
student parking lot, waiting for Ayden. I took a deep breath and glanced
down at my watch, 4 o'clock... he was late. I glanced around, there weren't
many cars left in the parking lot and the only people here were the staff
and the students who belonged to clubs or sports. I leaned against the stop
sign behind me and dug my foot into the loose dirt under my feet. The late
summer sun burned the back of my neck as I threw my messenger bag over my
right shoulder. I looked up as I heard a car approaching, sure enough it
was Ayden's red mustang. He pulled up in front of me and leaned over to
open the passenger side door. I shyly walked to the car and got in. "Hey
Ror." He said, flashing me a smile, exposing his pearly white teeth.

"Hey." I answered trying hard not to blush. Ayden is two years older than
me, tall, with a swimmer's body--thin, with perfectly toned muscles. His
naturally bronze-toned skin had a glow to it from the sweat, since it was
hotter today than it had been. He pulled out of the parking lot and started
driving down Main Street.

"Does Allie know you're with me or are we still on the down low?" he asked
pulling his black baseball cap over his dark wavy hair.

I started fidgeting with the strap of my messenger bag. I felt awkward
letting Allie know that Ayden and I were ...well going out. "No..." I said
nervously biting at my bottom lip. "She knows I'm with you, but she doesn't
know about us."

He shook his head a little. "I wish you would tell her and stop hiding your
relationship with me." He said. By the tone of his voice, I can tell he was
hurt that I hadn't told Allie since she was my best friend and one of his
friends also.

I let out a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry... I'll tell her okay? I promised..." I
say as he pulled into the driveway of his house. He didn't say anything,
just got out of the car and walked over to the front door. I got out and
followed him, leaving my bag in the car. "Ayden." I pleaded. as I went
after him.

Inside the house he was standing behind the couch looking down at the
floor, his cap covering his eyes so I couldn't see his facial
expression. "Ayden?" I whispered softly as I walked over to him and wrapped
my arms around his waist. "Don't be mad at me, please? I just haven't told
her." It made me feel bad that it upset him so much just because I hadn't
gone public with our relationship.

"Do you even want to be a part of this relationship?" he said somewhat
coldly as he pushed my hands away from him and turned around. "Because the
way you've been acting it's like you're ashamed of me."

I look at him confused, I don't know why he's so upset or why it even
matters so much that he'd take this whole situation and make it so
negative. "Of course I do." I moved closer to him and held my hand out to
touch him but again he moved away. "I'm new to this whole relationship
thing Ayden, you're the first boyfriend I've ever had; you cant just expect
me to ease into it like it's nothing and just be all open about it. After
all, I'm not fully out you know?"

He turned to look at me and I could tell he was hurt. "You're right." He
said as he places his hands firmly on my hips and pulls me close to him. "I
can't expect you to be open about having a relationship, especially since
this is the first one you've ever been in." he adjusted his cap so that he
was wearing it backwards. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." I said as I leaned my head into his chest. He smelled so
good. A mix of chlorine and lavender, he probably had just taken a shower
after swimming at the public pool. He cupped my chin and made me look into
his dark green eyes--I could have stared into his eyes all day if I
wanted to and just gotten lost in them.  Before I knew it, he pulled me
closer until I'm just a few inches away from him. I felt my heart racing in
my chest as his arms encircled my waist and before I could do or say
anything I felt his lips against mine; soft and sweet with a faint taste of
peppermint. I practically melted against him as he held me tight; I felt my
eyes start to water. Why the hell was I crying? My first kiss and there I
was ruining it by crying. When he finally pulled away, I quickly wiped away
the tears clinging to my eyelashes. I felt light-headed as he looked at me
and smiled sweetly. When I was with him I felt like a completely different
person, like no matter how bad things got, he could make them better when
he held me.

I pressed my cheek against the side of his neck, closing my eyes as I felt
his arms tighten around my waist. For the first time since I can remember,
I felt safe. The bad stuff started when I lost my dad. It was at a crucial
time in my life, one in which I felt like I needed him the most. I was
fifteen; it was the summer before my sophomore year. My father and I were
inseparable. I had the perfect father-son relationship with my dad, the
kind that some people wish they had. I was able to tell my father anything
and he understood me. I had known for a while that my parent's marriage was
falling apart. He'd leave for work and hour earlier than usual and come
home extremely late, just to avoid my mom. My mom accused him of having an
affair--which he denied. I knew my My father was better than that. As the
summer dragged on, I witnessed my parents' change. My dad wasn't the same
person he was before; he was more closed off, distant and depressed. My
mom, who I never had a very good relationship with--especially after
coming out to her became even more distant from me. Maybe because I
reminded her of my father, she was beginning to despise me My father's
older sister Janna always told me that I looked more and more like my
father every time she saw me. And in a way, I was beginning to see it
too. The same platinum blonde hair which for the last year I had
continuously dyed black, the same tall, slender frame and the big ocean
blue-grey eyes.  As September neared, I was more than relieved; school
would be starting in just a few short weeks and I could finally get out of
the house, and away from my parent's constant bickering.

My mother and I went down to the local grocery store, the only one in
Easton to do our shopping for out 2-week groceries.  Normally she did this
on her own and I just unload the car when she got home. But this time he
insisted on me tagging along with her. He handed me a twenty-dollar bill
and told me to buy something for me. We returned to our house about an hour
and half later to find my father sitting in his favorite chair in front of
the TV, the remote resting on the arm of the chair beneath his right
hand—a .9-mm hand gun in his other.  The sight sent chills throughout my
body and I couldn't move--I was paralyzed. I could feel my knees shaking
as I stood in the doorway of the living room staring disbelievingly at my
dead father. My mother walked in with her hands full of groceries and
glanced over at him, shaking her head. "I knew we should have gotten rid of
that gun." She placed the bags on the kitchen counter, her face and voice
completely devoid of any emotion. "It was only a matter of time before he
did something stupid like this." She looked up at me and smiled.  I was
stunned and horrified. I couldn't believe my mother could be so
cold-hearted and callous—the man she had been married to and with whom
she had a child—me—just killed himself and she couldn't care
less. Once I finally was able to move I robotically walked over to my
father and picked up the phone that was on the coffee table in front of him
and trying to keep my shaking hands under control, I diale)called 9-1-1.
*~* The bad thing about living in a small town was how fast word
traveled. I couldn't go anywhere without someone coming up to me and
telling me how sorry they were for my loss. Easton being a very
church-going-community-involved-small towns. There were people who were
really sorry to hear about my loss and then there were the ones who just
said it because they felt it was appropriate because I'd grown up with
these sanctimonious church-goers, I knew in the back of their minds they
were thinking "His father is going to hell for doing such an act. It's
against God's will."  It was at that time in my life that I lost my
faith. I stopped going to church. I didn't feel there was any point
anymore. Almost everyone who attended the Little Church on a Hill knew what
my father had done and everyone looked at me as if I wasn't human. I Even
more so once word got out that I was gay. I asked myself, if there was a
God, why did he make my life so difficult? To test me? To see if I was able
to handle being under pressure?  My mother continued going to church, she
said she needed a place to go that would not judge her. Whether she knew
they constantly judged me I am not sure. After my father died, her drinking
became excessive. Sometimes, she'd go out and be gone for days at a
time. Sometimes she'd leave me money, sometimes she didn't. We rarely had
food in our house since dad's death, so I had to depend on friends and
myself. Allie, Chris and Janie would come over when my mom would leave and
bring with them loads of junk food and video rentals and we'd all just
veg. Without my friends, there was no way I'd have been able to make it
through that stage of my life When school finally started, I got a lot of
sympathy from my teachers and the principle. Ms. Junta, my English teacher
who was also our neighbor, offered me tutoring if ever I needed
it. Ms. Junta was older than my mom, maybe in her late fifties; she had
this out of control mass of curly red hair and gentle green eyes. I spent a
lot of that following summer at her house. I would help her clean and
rearrange furniture or just to hang out. She'd make dinner and have me stay
over while my mother was off bar-hopping, looking for some random guy to
screw. I practically lived at Ms. Junta's place. That was until my mother
got pissed off at me one day for coming home at almost midnight so she
forbade me to leave the house for the rest of the summer.  ~*~

Ayden looked into my eyes and smiled softly. "Are you alright?" he asked
softly caressing my cheek.

"Yes I'm fine." I answered placing my hand on top of his and pressing my
lips against his palm. I'd only been with him a few days but already I felt
something for him -- something stronger than friendship. I was beginning
to love him. Maybe not full blown heart wrenching love, but the kind you
feel for someone who just has the power to make you feel safe with just a
single touch.

He took my hands in his and pulled me closer; bring my arms to wrap around
the back of his neck. "I should probably get you home." He whispered as he
placed his hands on my hips.

"I glanced at the watch on my wrist, it was getting late and I was really
in no mood to listen to my mother bitch.

When I got home, I walked back to my room and sat on my bed. My head was
spinning and I felt like I was floating... I didn't think anyone or
anything could possibly ruin this moment. Not even my mother. I pressed my
fingers against my lips and closed my eyes; he actually kissed me. I fell
back and stared at the ceiling. I wanted to call Allie, to tell her how
great I felt right then. How amazing it was being in Ayden's arms... but I
knew she wouldn't understand. She was most likely going to be pissed off at
me for not telling her about Ayden in the first place...