When I Met Him In The Summer

Twenty five

The strong stench of bleach, disinfectant and rubbing alcohol fills my nostrils and makes me gag as I open my eyes and look around, my brain instantly registering the white washed walls around me. I sit up begrudgingly in the bed and sigh.

I cannot believe I almost died.

I mean, it was scary, but now I am living for this, pun intended, for the plot.

It was never supposed to get as far as me needing a hospital...people have been beaten up much worse, and they have made full recoveries at home. Now, I'm thinking I should not believe everything I see on Netflix.

To be fair, though, I might have overestimated myself. I am not built to be a punching bag.

I still don't like this one bit. Hospitals have been depressing to me for as long as I can remember. I personally think if you're trying to nurse someone back to health, instead of disinfectant, you can light a scented candle, and do more in the way of decorating—these walls need a splash of color.

My mom enters the room and when she sees me, the to go cup drops from her hand and spills coffee all over the floor. She slumps her shoulders, puts her palm on her chest, leans against the door and exhales with relief.

What had the doctors told her?

I pull the oxygen mask off my face as she walks over to my bed and holds my head to her chest.

"Mom, why am I in the hospital?" I do not even sound like me...it feels like my voice is coming out of someone else.

"Well the doctor says you had some internal bleeding, severe trauma to the ribs so somehow one of your lungs almost collapsed. But you're going to be fine now."

"Collapsed lu—how long have I been out?" I ask, clutching my temples.

"Just under a day. Danny, don't worry about it...it is not critical," she says softly, and I stare, wide eyed at her.

Now we're all lying to each other?

She's not wearing the clothes I last saw her in, and she must think I'm stupid to believe that I've only been out one day...she would not have left me to shower and change if I'd been here "just under a day".

I want to ask her just how long I've actually been here, but there's a knock at the door, and Jake peeks his head through. Mum nods him in and I grab the sheets on my bed to hide my shaking hands.

"Hey. How are you feeling?" he asks, his face riddled with...I think it's guilt, and I nod my head at him.

"Okay," I squeak. He's responsible for this, so what exactly does he care?

"Can we talk? Alone?" he asks, folding his arms across his chest to hide his bruised knuckles from mum.

It might not be working as well as he thinks, I can still see the slight purple against his black shirt.

"Honey? Are you okay?" mum's voice cuts through my thoughts and I nod.

"Give us a minute?" I ask, and she kisses my head and walks out.

When the door closes behind her, we just awkwardly look around the empty room, neither of us ready to face the other.

I flinch very visibly when he reaches over to touch my leg—must be the PTSD?—and he pulls his hand back, leans against the wall and closes his eyes.

"Why didn't you say anything?"he asks finally, staring out the window. I sigh.

"Would your reaction have been any different?" I shoot back, and he goes quiet. I thought so.

"That time in the bathroom...,"

"Oh my God, you have to be playing with me right now. That was not supposed to happen and don't worry, you did not become some fetish for me." I snap, slightly angry.

"But you said you wanted someone in you that night. When you talked in your sleep, remember?"

Jesus Christ, he was not going let this go, was he?

What did he want me to tell him? That I may or may not have thought about screwing him that day and like the two subsequent days after?

"Well it was definitely not you. I mean I can do better than that."

His eyebrows go up in shock, and I shake my head. I definitely did not mean it like that. Jake is a total catch...he is just my brother, and saying this, I realise calling him a catch is a bit weird.

"Well then Austin must be such an excellent choice huh?"

There. There was that anger, the jealousy in his voice. The exact, same tone Austin had used with me.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Considering you snuck into his room multiple times in the middle of the night to suck him in his sleep...need I say more? What...that's what you do when straight guys refuse to sleep with you?"

I must either be heavily medicated, concussed or still asleep. I'm afraid I did not hear that right.

I snuck into Austin's room? Me? Multiple times? To suck him? In his sleep? And I asked him to screw me? My blood is boiling right now. Is that what Austin had told him?

"Is that what Austin said?" I ask, and he grabs the end of my bed and leans over me.

"So it's true then?" he asks, and his eyes darken. "It's bad enough that you're gay, Danny. But doing that taboo shit? You're fucking related, for fucksake!"

Bad enough that I'm gay?

"Please leave, you made sure that I'm not in the condition to have this conversation just yet." I say and face away from him.

"Why? Because I'm right?" he asks, his voice starting to get agitated. But I'm not scared of him. We're in a hospital...he cannot touch me here.

"Jake, go." I say calmly, lie back down and close my eyes. I am done talking to him.

I am scared if I continue talking, I might give something away that I'm not supposed to, like Sora.

"You know what? Whatever, screw you." he says, and walks out.

As soon as I start to calm down and relax to the soothing beep of the heart rate monitor, the door opens again, and I groan. Jake needs to understand that I'm not going to say anything more to him.

"I thought I told you to...oh."

The words catch in my throat as I open my eyes to see my father standing in front of me, right by the foot of my bed.

Great. Just when I thought this day could not get any worse.