Never Alone

Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

The white static on the black screen looked like a furious blizzard as it grew in size and took shape in front of our eyes. The particles seemed to cluster together until it became one bright light beaming from a large stadium post. The dark night sky behind it was the perfect backdrop for the warm, yellow glow it transformed into as Ken's mind recreated a memory for the rest of us to see.

The sound of white noise dissected into parts and each cheer roared as the excitement of a crowd filled the treatment room around us. Ken's face was peaceful, his lips turned up in a content smile, and I wanted it to stay there so my heart would not have to feel the pain I knew was coming. Just like before, the image seemed to drip and melt as he looked around inside his own head. Nothing could take a firm hold in this place, only form for a second and then fade away as he took in something else.

Bright green turf beneath cleats, stretching and rolling for yards and yards. White painted lines and perfectly drawn numbers keeping track of the yards as the tiny bits of rubber mulch lifted and flew from the soles of the cleats in front of him. He was chasing someone, his chest expanding, his legs moving quickly, and I could almost feel the way his body was built for this as I watched through his eyes the view from inside his helmet.

His hand was outstretched on the screen and in the chair, reaching for the jersey in front of him, pulling his opponent back. Together they got tangled, their bodies colliding and rolling as they slid along the turf. I realized I was holding my breath—out of fear or excitement, I wasn't sure—but my heart was pounding and my head felt light. Ken's body was rigid in his chair. The smile from before was gone and already I saw a tear slipping down his cheek and into his hair. He knew what was coming.

Ken reached his hand out, an offer to help up the kid he'd tackled as he pulled himself up from the ground, but the boy's voice was hateful and full of venom as he shouted, "Don't touch me, fag!"

The players on the field melted into the ground right in front of us and the colors swirled together like a rainbow spilled into a sink and slipping down the drain. I glanced at Damien. His hand gripped his chair tightly as he watched Ken twitch beside him.

The screen above them went black again and the white static gathered like stars in the sky. Music played somewhere in the distance and the sound of a whispering voice faded in. Ken answered, "Just another minute." We were outside now, behind an old brick building. Cars were parked in the lot some distance away and the only light emanated from the windows far above. Ken turned his head to look at another boy, dressed in a tux, leaning up against the bricks. He smiled shyly and Ken took his hand. "Dance with me."

The boy in the tux smiled. Ken tugged him closer and in the darkness, he took him into his arms. Their bodies swayed to the song playing in the background. The world at the fringes of his memory was lifting and falling like the acoustics of the song. It was a beautiful memory. As the dance ended, Ken kissed the boy, closing his eyes and virtually shutting us out, but we didn't need to see what was happening to know that this kiss meant something to him.

"Ken?" A girl's voice called and suddenly his eyes opened and he widened the space between him and the boy in the tux.

"Over here," he answered. "We were grabbing a drink." He pulled a silver flask from the inside pocket of his jacket and held it out to a beautiful girl in a sparkling pink dress. She giggled and the sound of it made the image on the screen flicker as if the scene was switching from fairy tale to horror. She wrapped her arm around him and he looked at the boy with so much sadness in his eyes I could feel it on my skin. It hurt, so why was Ken denying who he loved?