21. august

TWENTY ONE

august

Wednesday, April 2nd

August went home shortly after Isaiah had fallen asleep.

Picked up by Morgan, it was a quiet ride, save for the soft indie music coming from her radio. He pushed his ring up and down his finger, twisted it this way and that, eyes unfocused on the scenery passing by. Isaiah was on his mind, as he had been for a while now. He never seemed to leave; he always trumped the flashbacks of the Bad Days.

He sat his elbow on the ledge protruding from the door, and rested his chin in his palm to hide his smile, letting his hair fall into his face. Isaiah was a deep sleeper, he'd noticed while he was there. He also clung to August like a little koala bear, with his leg thrown over his hips and arm draped over his chest, fingertips ghosting his side. His sleeping habits weren't what August expected, but he didn't mind. God no, he found it adorable.

August remembered admiring his sleeping face (fuck, it was cute), and he kept it ingrained into his mind for the Bad Days and the Good, because he didn't quite know when he'd be able to lay beside him like that again. It could be tomorrow, could be in a month, maybe never again (August didn't like to think about that option).

"Shit," August whispered. He facepalmed, rubbed at his face with a groan.

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "What's up? You were just smiling like an idiot."

"I thought I hid that," August mumbled, frowning. Morgan snorted. He ignored that and continued on: "Shit, Mo. I really like Isaiah, and it's freaking me the fuck out."

Morgan gave him a sympathetic look. "You do know not every guy is like—"

"I know," August interrupted, shaking his head, not wanting to hear that name. "I know. That's not what I'm scared of. Isaiah doesn't have a mean bone in his body."

"Then what is it?" she asked softly, looking at him once they hit a red light. August tilted his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to make out the stars behind his eyelids.

He exhaled sharply. "I don't want him finding out about how it happened," he admitted, opening his eyes again to look down at his prosthesis. Just looking at it made his chest squeeze painfully.

"He's going to have to know sooner or later," she told him honestly. "He can help you."

"But it won't help him," August responded, hating the way his voice wavered and cracked. "If anything, it's just going to make him so much more terrified to be who he is. He hasn't said it out loud, but I can see how painful it is to like me the way he does."

Morgan went quiet, and August could tell she didn't know what to say, so he left the conversation there to pick back up some other time. The rest of the ride was filled with low music and short words, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Wasn't awkward either. Morgan knew when August didn't feel like talking, and he knew the same for her.

Minutes later they arrived outside August's house, and he said goodbye to Morgan with a kiss to the cheek and a ruffle of her hair. She smacked his hand, and he laughed, waving on his way out of the car and up to his doorstep. She didn't drive away until he was able to push the door open and close it, his mother shooting up from the sofa when he did.

"August!" she exclaimed, hurrying over to the boy, who knew what was coming. "You said you'd be home by six. It's almost seven, I was worried sick."

He sighed. "Mom, I was at a baseball game, there were tons of people around. No one was gonna kidnap me or something," he explained, rolling his eyes, but he knew why she was so concerned. He didn't blame her, but it was starting to get tiring having to calm her down when he wasn't home on time. "My friend got sick. I went home with him and I just stayed there for a bit to make sure he was okay."

She grasped his shoulders and nodded, but his words didn't seem to ease her worries. "Text me where you go next time," she told him. "Whether it's to the gas station or a friend's house. Okay?"

August gritted his teeth. "Okay."

She exhaled quietly and pulled him into a strong embrace, holding him tightly against her. August grimaced, but hugged her back, only letting go when she wouldn't. "Mom," he hissed, and she apologized quickly, pulling back and wiping at her eyes.

Fuck, he thought. His mom had her Good Days and her Bad Days too, and her bad ones got more frequent around the anniversary. It was obvious she was having a bad one, and August hated when she got like this. She became clingy and overprotective; constantly worrying and crying every time something didn't go exactly the way she wanted it to. It was exhausting, and whenever they had a Bad Day at the same time, he always ended up being the one comforting her.

And he loved his dad, he did, but the man was terrible at anything related to emotion. When his mom was sad, all he did was make sure everything that needed to be done in the house was done. He kissed her more, hugged her more, but was never able to really understand her, so he left that part to August.

His dad wasn't even his real dad, only his step-father, which explained why he couldn't quite understand August's mom. He wasn't around when the accident had happened, so he didn't witness firsthand the horrors of the whole situation. August supposed he was doing his best, but his best wasn't helping anyone but himself. August was tired, and he hated being at home when his mom was the way she was, and he wished he didn't leave Isaiah's house so soon.

"I'm going to my room," he told his mother. He gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Homework." He didn't have any homework, but it was the only excuse he could give to escape. She nodded again and sniffled, squeezing his shoulder and letting him hurry upstairs.

As soon as he made it to his room, he flopped down onto his stomach, situating a pillow underneath his chin. He pulled out his phone, texted Morgan an S.O.S message, and waited for a reply.

August: mom is having one of those days again and it's extra overwhelming today please help

Morgan: wanna spend the night? my parents won't mind. and i'm sorry, guess today isn't a day where you can handle it?

August: no. i have problems of my own - i can't just have other ones piled onto me, expecting me to fix it. when i can't even fix my own

August: i would spend the night, but i doubt she'll let me leave when i just scared her by coming home late

Morgan: i'm sorry ;-; will a nice ol' game of stardew valley soothe your soul?

August: hell yeah

So that's what they did for the next few hours, played Stardew Valley and farmed to their hearts' content. There were no interruptions, until August's phone chimed, and he snatched it up when he saw Isaiah's name flash across the screen.

"Isaiah texted me," August mentioned through his mic, and Morgan let out a cooing sound, completely absorbed into the game. He chuckled.

Isaiah: When did you leave? ):

August: like an hour or so after you fell asleep. kinda wish i would've stayed sigh

Isaiah: oh, damn. Everything okay?

August: yeah, just family stuff ig

Isaiah: Wanna talk about it? (:

August: i'll tell you tomorr -

"August," Morgan whined. "Stop talking to lover boy for one second and help me plant the parsnips."

"One second," August hissed, eyes trained on his phone screen. "Almost done."

August: i'll tell you tomorrow, okay? morgan and i are playing a game rn

Isaiah: oh okay! see you tomorrow then

August: yes sir lol

August: btw you're a clingy cuddler x

Isaiah: oh my god

___

Q: any theories on what happened?