“And here I thought you were more worldly than these bumkins,” he bites back.
It’s our usual banter, and it feels like coming home after a long and miserable day. Here by Abraham’s side, I can always findthat one bright spot of joy. I’ve never understood why he wasted it here on these people.
We sit in amicable silence for several moments. The warmth of the peppermint tea fills me to my very soul, and I feel my lips start to loosen.
“I wanted to fight back, but the last time I did, Grandma Julia dragged me by my ear to each house, because they all still live at home, and made me apologize for hurting those boys. It was humiliating!” My voice steadily rises in volume until I realize I’m shouting at my only friend.
Taking a deep, fortifying breath, I reel in my emotions and try again.
“It’s easier if I don’t fight back, so I started outrunning them. But yesterday they expected that and were waiting for me. I’ve tried taking different routes home, but the last stretch is always the same. I’ve tried varying the times, but they apparently areverypatient. Grandma Julia says they’re good boys and the only reason they would attack me is if I provoked them first. Believe me, I’ve tried explaining to her but she won’t listen to me.”
“And what do the boys say provoked them?”
I glance up to meet Abraham’s gaze, shocked he asked a question. Normally, he allows me to vent and listens, rarely adding in feedback or questions. I guess today is one of the latter days.
“They claim I tried to hit on them. Because apparently that’s whatgay boysdo,” I say that last bit with a huge eye roll and finger quotes. “After I supposedly make a pass at them, which I don’t, they attempt to cleanse me of my devilish ways by preaching the good word to me. Which I apparently ignore and become violent, requiring them to defend themselves.”Gaslighting to the max.
“Everyone believes them?”
“Yup. Because of my ‘Jezebel of a mother’, I must bear her sins, which is why I’m gay. The accident doesn’t help my case either.” My voice peters off until it’s barely a whisper, and I hate how weak I sound. My fingers find those scars and run along them. One shit situation spiraled into a shit-filled life. None of which, honestly, had anything to do with my mother’s choices.
Abraham’s eyes bounce to my wrists, and he opens his mouth as if to ask about the scars, but then quickly closes it. It’s a subject we’ve danced around, but never fully dove into, for a long time. His lips pinch in tightly and he breathes deeply, wrestling with himself. His expression returns to relaxed once he settles on the words he will say versus those he clearly wanted to say. “The child shall not bear the sins of the mother.” Abraham’s words are both kind and wise, if only everyone were as gentle as him.
“Think I could get that in writing?” I joke.
“Ezekiel 18:20,” he quotes, and I stare at him in a new light.
“But…but…you have like witchy books and shit.”Can you say brain misfire?“I mean, what the fuck, Abraham. I thought you were my friend and you’re one ofthem?”
His stupidly handsome face remains soft, impassive. “First off, breathe, Rami. Iamyour friend. I have studied many religions and occult magic because I have a thirst for knowledge. But I was raised in the church. If that affects your view of me and our friendship, then you’re not the man I thought you were.”
The hurt on his face feels like daggers in my chest. And now I feel like the scum of the earth. I’ve insulted my only friend.
“I’m sorry, Abraham. Of course you’re right. I shouldn’t have judged.” I drop my forehead onto the counter with a loudthud. The pitiful groan that escapes me begs the floor to swallow me whole. “I’m no better than them if I judge someone for their choices.”
A warm hand presses against my back and rubs reassuring circles into my body. As my body relaxes into his touch, those strong fingers card through my long, blonde hair. It feels nice, and I find myself leaning into his touch.
“It’s okay. You’ve had a rough few days. It makes sense your response is more reactionary. Honestly, you’re my only friend too. I’m just the bookshop guy, no one bothers getting to know me.”
Sitting up, my eyes roam over his features as I stare at him like I’ve never really seen him before. The pain he speaks of shows brightly in his warm gaze and it calls to me.
The hand he had in my hair moves to cup my cheek, and I love how it feels there. His strength and warmth fills me. When his eyes drop to my lips, they suddenly become dry and I have to run my tongue over them. His eyes follow the movement of my tongue, and my stomach knots in anticipation of what I think is going to happen.
Abraham leans over the counter, and I freeze, too afraid to move. He pauses only a breath away from my lips, and I’m fairly certain I’m going to combust. As if he can read my mind, his soft lips press against mine and my brain loses its shit.
Oh shit. Oh shit. Ohshitohshitohshit!
His mouth parts, and his minty breath ghosts across my lips, and I shudder. I willingly open for him and when I taste the sweet jam on his tongue, it’s like an electric current runs through me.
I jump back so fast. One hand is on my lips, the other is over my chest where my necklace is hidden. I can feel the warmth of the crystals there.
“I-I-I-I…” I stutter and then cringe.
Abraham looks as shocked as I do, his eyes wide and his shoulders bunched up. “I’m so sorry, Rami,” he whispers. “I don’t know what came over me.” His pink tongue darts out tolick his lips and I can see his pupils blow wide with desire as if he’s tasting me there.
“I can’t.” Those painful words feel like the final nail in my coffin. My life here is bad enough without dragging a boyfriend into the mix. I have to get out of here and a relationship will only succeed in doing the opposite of that. “Abraham, you’re my friend. Myonlyfriend. I can’t risk that. I’m sorry.”
His head bobs up and down, causing a few stray pieces of hair to fall against his forehead and making him look a bit boyish. “I understand.”
