01 | THROWN OUT
I didn't want to sleep beneath my rival's flag, so I slept in his house instead
Ivan's POV
My father threw me out of his house three months after I got to know my mom was dying. Don't feel too bad for me, he wasn't a great father anyway. He was abusive, homophobic and an alcoholic (more so now that my mother was waiting for death and he was drowning in debt), but he was still my father. And in some ways, I was bound to feel some amount of sympathy for him. I felt like an orphan even though both my parents were alive.
It was dark and the streets were empty. Nowhere to go, I fiddled with the zip of my duffel bag as I came to a stop in the entrance of a tiny bar. I knew I looked a mess â my black hair resembled a wet raven and my faded t-shirt was damp in the armpit area.
I refused to care about how I looked and got a plate of (soggy) fries. When I was done, I walked my way to the children's park my mum used to take me to when I was younger. It looked so different in the dark: the slides and swing-sets were free of loud kindergartners and their bored parents. Free of those idiot straight couples who thought they were the center of the universe and had nothing better to do apart from kissing their "better" half.
You probably think I hate the world. I just hate myself too much to care.
I'd say I don't hate anyone or anything as much as I hate myself but I'd be lying. I'd be lying as long the Riverwood High basketball team â aka the Falcons â existed. But hating them comes in the job description of playing for their biggest rivals, the Everly Wildcats, so I guess that doesn't count
But I do hate them. Man, I do.
I perched myself on one of the swings in the park, slowly oscillating as a cold drought hit my face. The flag on the top of the post fluttered as it rid itself of the creases. It's red and I could see the symbol it bore. It was an orange falcon with the words 'Go Falcons!' printed below it.
The Falcons, of course. I couldn't believe they'd stoop low enough to advertise themselves, much less in a kids' park.
A wave of anger flooded my senses. My hands balled into fists and my jaw tightened. I shut my eyes, counted back from ten to one and pictured myself punching Lex Hope, the douchebag playboy up-to-no-good captain of the Falcons.
When I opened my eyes, my body was relaxed but my fists were still clenched. I guess they'll relax only when I've actually punched Lex Hope and wiped that smug smile off his face.
I strapped my backpack and headed out of the park. There's no way I was spending the night beneath a Falcons' flag.
The scars my father gave me as a farewell present burned every time the wind blew past me. I'd got my hoodie on but it barely made a difference.
I saw a car racing from the corner of my eye. Before I could react, the car unsteadily speeded towards me. This is it, I thought. Weirdly, I wasn't dreading the possibility of the car running over me.
But it stopped. A hair-strand away from my feet, the dark brown car skidded to a halt, saving me and my precious legs, both.
And they say gays can't drive.
"I'm sorry," the driver said, stepping out of the car. He didn't look drunk. He had dark circles beneath his eyes and was probably in his mid-forties. His green eyes looked familiar but I doubt I'd seen this man before.
"Are you drunk or something?" I asked even though I'd guessed the answer already.
He shook his head, sighing. "I haven't slept in days. There's â There've been a hell lot of emergencies in the hospital. My colleague is on maternity leave so I'm covering all her shifts. It's been a rough week. I know that's no excuse but..." His voice trailed off. "I'm sorry. Really."
"Hold up," I said. "You're a doctor?"
He nodded. "The roads are empty when I drive back this late. I'm sorry, I didn't expect you to be walking. I have a son your age and he told me one day I'll take more lives than I'll ever be able to save if I keep overworking myself. I never thought I'd do something so bad but..."
When I didn't respond he said, "How 'bout I give you a lift? You can drive if you don't trust me with this thing." He gestured at his car. "Where do you live?"
I stared at him. I don't know why but at that moment, I decided to trust him. It's not like I had a lot of inspirational father figures in my life to look up to anyway. "I ran away from home."
He gave me a look of sympathy. No pity. Thank God.
"You can spend the night at my place," he offered. "My wife's a social worker and she wouldn't mind. Not at all."
I shook my head. "Listen, I'm not the kind of guy who takes favors he'll never be able to return."
"I know guys like you," he said. "And... it's not really a favor; I'm trying to make it up to you. If I don't help you now, my conscience will be stained forever. Not that I'm ever going to forgive myself for this. So please, for both of our sakes. I'm giving you a room for yourself and a hot meal. If you want to leave in the morning, you can. You're welcome to stay as long as you want. But I'm not the kind of person who sees a boy on the street and leaves him there."
"What makes you think I'll trust a guy who almost killed me?"
"Because the guy would've done everything to save you. And he promises that he'll never to something like this again."
I couldn't help but smile. "How about you take a break, Doctor? I'll drive you home."
xxx
Dr Richard lived in the wealthier part of town. A red convertible was parked in front of his house. A brunette woman who looked ageless greeted us at the door. She must be his wife.
"Richard, I was so worried!" she said, hugging her husband. Her eyes flitted to me.
"Emelia, this is Ivan," Dr Richard introduced us to each other. "And Ivan, meet Emelia, my wife."
"Hello," I muttered. She returned a warm smile.
"I almost ran over him," Dr Richard said as he slipped off his shoes.
"'Almost' being the keyword," I interrupted. "I'm fine."
Emelia and Richard exchanged a few glances (and maybe glares), having the kind of silent conversation my mom would have with my father when she was healthy and he was, well, not completely drunk.
"Come on in," Emelia welcomed us. "I've got some leftover dinner for you both. There's also some bread in the kitchen. I'll bring the boys down if they're awake."
It was well past the middle of the night and this family acted like it was the middle of the day.
"I think my sons are going to like you," Richard said in between bites.
I shrugged. "Only time will tell."
As soon as those words left my mouth, a boy came down the stairs. His unruly hair black hair covered half his face and his eyes were a piercing green. "I'm Sebastian." His voice was sweet and innocent, not unlike him I thought. He was at least a couple of years younger than me.
"I'm Ivan."
"Where's your brother?" Richard asked Sebastian.
"On his way. Mum's talking to him."
A couple of minutes later, another boy descended the stairs. He looked my age, dressed in a hoodie and shorts. His hair was a blend between dirty blonde and chestnut. And his eyes: they were the most gorgeous shade of green-grey I'd ever encountered. There was something familiar about him, but I couldn't place my finger on it.
I stared at him. First with awe because he was beautiful. Then with rage because I recognized him, and I immediately regretted every compliment my mind had silently granted to him.
We locked eyes. The tension between us was a rope we'd stretched too much. I stared and stared and stared.
Lex Hope was staring right back.
xxx
A/N
I never said I didn't like cliffhangers...
Also, I've been thinking, Ivan's a lot like Tom Holland in this situation. He has no way home XD
Ever fantasized how life would be if you ran away from home?