So here we are at another Wednesday. It's quite and exciting Wednesday because it's the day after Tuesday, which was the release day for Project X I'm so excited. This is a great book, even if I say so myself :)
There's a whole blog tour to look forward to, and the reviews so far are great.
Anyway, back to the flash in hand. The prompt I chose this week was 'Are you out of your mind?'
Carried away by the euphoria of the film, Cyan chattered
constantly as they made their way out of the cinema. Robin didn’t even realize
he was holding Cyan’s hand until someone banged against his shoulder almost knocking
him over.
“Fags.”
“What?” Robin turned to see the group of boys leering at
him. One of them spat on the floor. He was so shocked he hadn’t even let go of
Cyan’s hand. When he realised what had happened, he dropped it like it burned.
In a way it did. It burned his mind.
Reeling with shock, Robin staggered back until he hit the
wall. Life seemed to have slowed, everyone around him moving in slow motion.
Alex was yelling, Aivah was saying something to him, and Cyan…Cyan was staring
at him, his hand over his mouth and an expression of utter terror on his face.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ sorry.”
That was the first sound he heard clearly. Cyan was saying
it over, and over, and over. Robin wanted to say something. Anything. He wanted
to comfort Cyan, to say it was alright. But it wasn’t alright. It really wasn’t.
“I-I’ve got to go,” he muttered, and fled.
He didn’t stop running until he got to his room, then flung
himself onto the bed. Oh God, what had he done? What had he done? Now everyone
was going to know. Everyone would know he was…was…. What would they do? What would
he do? What would his mother say?
Gradually, his heart slowed and he buried his face in his
pillow to stop himself screaming.
The cheery singing of his telephone made him want to throw
it across the room. It wasn’t the first time. It didn’t seem as if it hadn’t
stopped and he wanted it to. God, he wanted it to. The last thing he wanted was
to speak to someone; anyone, but someone wasn’t giving up.
Finally, he checked the calls to find Alex had called four
times, and Aivah three. Cyan hadn’t called at all. Why hadn’t Cyan called? For
a moment, anger spiked, and it surprised him. Why would it matter if Cyan
called? But it mattered. It did matter.
Unbidden, a picture of Cyan’s face popped into his head. The
way it had looked in the cinema; the expression on his face. His heart skipped.
What had he done? He’d just abandoned him.
Automatically, he found Cyan’s number
but his finger hovered over the button, unable to make the commitment.
What the hell was he doing? His nerves were singing like
bowstrings, and he found his hand was shaking. If he did this; if he called
Cyan he’d have to do one of two things. He’d have to tell Cyan it was going to
be okay, and how the hell was he going to do that when nothing was okay – or he’d
have to tell him it was over.
Closing his eyes, Robin tried his absolute hardest to gather
his scattered thoughts. A spear of anger caught his breath. Why did he have to
do this? Why did he have to handle it alone? Why couldn’t
Cyan help him? It should
be Cyan who was helping him, comforting him. He shouldn’t have to handle this
alone. But Cyan couldn’t do that. Cyan couldn’t do anything on his own. He was….
“Robin?”
His mother’s soft voice at the door startled him, and he
threw his phone across the room and rubbed his arm across his eyes.
“Robin, honey. Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Can I come in?”
“No, I….”
“Please.”
“Oh…alright.” He dashed his eyes again and did his best to
pull himself together.
“Your friend’s here,” she said as she sat next to him.
“I don’t want to see anyone. Tell Alex I’ll call him later.”
“It isn’t Alex.”
“What? Who is it?”
“He says his name’s Cyan. Pretty name. Pretty boy, too. No,
not pretty, beautiful. He’d very upset.”
Robin groaned inside, then got angry again. How dare he. How
dare he come here. This was his sanctuary. He should be safe here. He should be…safe.
“What did he say?”
“Nothing much. He was too upset. He said he’d done a bad
thing and wanted to tell you how sorry he is. He won’t tell me what the bad
thing was. Do you want to give me a clue?”
“I…. It was nothing. Tell him….”
“I’m not going to tell him anything. You have to tell him
yourself.”
“I can’t. I can’t see him now. I just….”
“Is he your boyfriend?”
“What?” Robin couldn’t have been more shocked if she’d
poured a bucket of iced water over his
head. “Are you out of your mind? Why
would you say that?”
“Because he’s clearly in love with you.”
“He’s not. He— I— I’m not….”
“It’s okay, Robin. It’s okay. I’m not going to tell you what
to do, and I can’t tell you what to feel, but there’s one thing you need to
bear in mind. The heart wants, what the heart wants, and the road to hell
starts with trying to tell it, it doesn’t.”
“But…. You….”
Robin’s mother leaned forward and kissed him on the head. “The
heart wants what the heart wants. Give your heart what it wants and don’t worry
about anything else. All that can be figured out. Talk to Cyan, then come down
and we’ll work on the figuring out.”
“But…. Don’t you… Don’t you care?”
“I care that you’re happy and safe. That’s all. If this boy…Cyan,
makes you happy, that fine by me. More than fine.”
“You…you don’t care if I’m…? If I…?”
“Bisexual? Not at all. I’ve had my share of…um…well maybe
that’s for another time.”
Robin felt the foundation of his world shake. “Bi…bi…sexual?
Me? You?”
Robin’s mother smiled. “Talk to Cyan. We’ll talk later.”
With another kiss on his head, she got up and left. Robin
remained staring at the door until the hesitant knock.
Bisexual. That sounded a lot better than gay.
And now head off to the rest of this weeks wonderful flashers for some excellent stories.
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