Chapter 18

Word count: 3,770.

Chapter 18

When I open my eyes, the world is slightly spinning. There's too much light in the room and I have to squint my eyes so I can see well. The first word is: fuck, and the first thought is: I'm in danger. I'm in a different room, and I remember partying so hard last night I can't remember some of it, but eventually, I know it'll come to me. Just a few memory lapses, I guess.

I roll over and groan, the headache getting worst. There's a pillow behind my back and front, sandwiching me, and I think back hard of what happened last night. I remember taking shot after shot of vodka, and I remember dancing in the center with so many people I know watching me. I remember seeing Donnie, Melody's ex-boyfriend, and I told him that he can rot in hell for what he did on Melody, for cheating. I remember him apologizing to me and in front of Melody's face, and I remember Matt nearly punching him on the face but we had to hold him. Matt was there. I remember taking a piss and... Wyatt. I remember Wyatt.

Holy fuck. I'm in a deep shit. I'm in danger.

All at once, memories of last night come rushing inside my head, flashing after one another. I remember me kissing Wyatt in the bathroom with no people around, and I remember that I forgot to wash my hands after peeing. I remember telling Wyatt that I didn't want to go home and I didn't want to be in the reunion party. He told me I was drunk and he was tipsy and that we'd rest and we'd go a place I'd like to go to. I remember hugging him, and then I kissed him. He kissed me back. Did he kiss me back? I'm confused. He did, didn't he? I remember telling him that he had my consent and he could do whatever he wanted to do with me.

I sigh in relief when I see that I'm still fully clothed, but I'm wearing different clothes now. The shirt is a bit big on me, and the shorts is quite hanging loosely around my waist. I put my face in my hands in shame and groan out loud.

"You're finally awake."

I jolt in surprise and stare wide eyed at Melissa, who is beaming brightly. She lets out a giggle and walks over to me, handing me a glass of water and Advil. I thank her and drink the Advil and the water, and I sigh in relief once the cold water refreshes me. Melissa smiles motherly at me and I smile back rather shyly. I'm remembering a lot of things of what happened last night and I want more than this bed to swallow me up whole to prevent me from getting more embarrassed, and yeah, so I don't have to finally come face to face with Wyatt and tell him how sorry I am for how I acted last night.

Melissa takes a seat on the bed and cups my cheeks. There's a tear slipping her right eye. She brushes it away and sighs happily, and leans down to kiss me on my cheek. I blush, hanging my head low.

"Would you like to have some breakfast?" she asks me as she stands up, smoothing her blue floral duster dress. I nod at her. She beams. "Come to the kitchen with me. I've prepared hash browns and mashed potatoes. Ajax eats them for breakfast. Those are his favorites."

"Thank you, Melissa. If I may ask, where's Wyatt?"

"Oh, he just went out to get something. We ran out of supplies, so he did the shopping."

"That's nice of him."

"Oh trust me, that boy never lets me do anything other than to let me live in this boring house." Melissa giggles, rolling her eyes playfully. "He does almost everything. From cleaning the house to going out to do grocery shopping. I literally have to beg him to stop doing those things for me. I'm not that old. I'm offended sometimes." She winks at me.

"So you can still kick some ass?" I joke.

"Yeah, I can still kick some ass."

"Awesome. You and my mom are going to be unstoppable."

"I'd like to meet her soon! And I love the pies she baked!"

"Then I have to tell her the good news." I laugh. "She's been asking me if you love the pies. She said she made it extra special." I roll my eyes playfully.

"I really have to meet her. I have to ask her the ingredients."

The headache is beginning to subside and I finally manage to roll over the bed and stand up. Melissa checks my every move as if she's not trusting me I can do this on my own. I may have a hangover, but I'm fine. I can manage.

Melissa leads me around her house. Her house is surprisingly huge, even though it's just a one-story house. As she leads me to the kitchen, through the window, I can see she has a big lawn and her house is surrounded with big, tall trees – live oak trees, which are pretty common here in Texas. Her house is well-organized and every furniture that is placed in the living room as we pass it by is complimenting the interior. She leads me to another room where the kitchen is, and a big oak table greets me with hash browns, mashed potatoes, bacons, scrambled eggs, and a pitcher of orange and apple juice placed on top. She motions me to take a seat and I oblige, smiling gratefully at her. She hands me a plate, and a spoon and fork. The foods look like it hasn't been touched yet, and it makes me wonder if Wyatt has already eaten his breakfast before doing grocery shopping. What time is it, by the way? Here in Texas, I can never tell. Sometimes it rains here in Texas, but it's always hot here. Just wait til' August and it feels like you're being put in an oven. Somehow, though, I've lost my Texas accent and I ditch the "y'all" and "all y'all" words.

I begin eating what she prepared. No doubt she's a great cook. The harsh browns are tasty, a bit salty, but that's the way I like it. I get three scoops of mashed potato, and Melissa pushes the bowl of gravy to me. I nod happily and drape my mashed potato with the gravy. I sigh in contentment once the taste melts in my tongue.

Once I'm done eating, I stand up and attempt to wash the plates, but Melissa just pushes me gently and shakes her head, telling me that she'll do it. I insist, but she only points me to the living room area and I nod at her. She tells me I can freely do whatever I want to do in the living room while we're waiting for Wyatt. I head over to the living room and observe.

The walls are painted a shade of cream, walls to the ceiling. There's a leather couch facing the plasma TV, and beside it is a three-story table. On the top there are pictures of the Wyatt family in frame. Below it are the photo albums, and on the last deck, it's a mini figurines of DC characters: Batman, Aquaman, Wonder Woman, and Shazam. Looking over the kitchen, remembering Melissa's words, I grab the photo album and take a seat on the couch.

I start to look page after page. I chuckle when I see a little Wyatt, maybe five or six years old, holding a fish in his hand with a toothy grin, facing the camera. His dad has a proud express on his face as he looks at his son. I flip to another page and see a little Wyatt on his diaper sitting on top of a karaoke machine wearing a hornpipe as a hat. Behind him is a Christmas tree. I chuckle at that.

"That was taken when 1 year old, a night before New Year."

Melissa takes a seat beside me, grabbing the photo album. She runs her hand across the picture, smiling softly as she looks at her son and husband. She flips another page and giggles at the picture of them having a picnic near a lake. Wyatt, who seems to be six years old, with a toothy grin and bright brown eyes, is running after his dad who has a kite in his hand. Melissa, younger in the picture, is just sitting there laughing as she watches her family.

"Ajax wanted to have a hat so bad, but Rupert's hat was too big for him. Ajax was just crying and crying until we gave him one." Melissa sighs in happiness as she recalls the memory. "We had to improvise. Rupert grabbed the hornpipe and placed it on his head, and Ajax stopped crying and he was so happy. He was giggling and he didn't want to take the hornpipe off his head."

"That's cute."

"Yeah. When Wyatt was growing up, he looked up to Rupert and he wanted so badly to make him proud. Going to catch a fish, Ajx would do it. Managing a kite, Ajax would do it. Everything. Just to make his papa proud. Rupert was very proud of him. But then when he was twelve years old, Rupert got murdered. Since then my little Ajax changed."

"I'm sorry for your loss." My heart aches for her and Wyatt.

Melissa grabs my hand, smiles, and shakes her head. "When Wyatt learned that his father died, he cried and cried. Though he changed, he still wanted to make Rupert proud. He was being competitive in anything – sports, grades, quizzes, anything."

"Yeah, he was competitive in high school." I recall and Melissa nods her head, a tear slipping from her right eye. She takes a deep breath.

"When he was fourteen, that's when he began to really, really change." Melissa continues and based from the expression on her face, it hurts her to tell me this story. My heart beats painfully against my chest and I want more than nothing to hug and comfort her. Melissa is a good mother, and she doesn't deserve all the pain. Wyatt doesn't deserve the pain. They didn't deserve it. "Ajax was bothered, threatened by almost everyone, academically speaking, and he kept mentioning someone named Pierson Matthews."

"That's me."

"I know," Melissa chuckles. "At that time, Ajax was also having a... let's say a crisis that happens to teens. He was so upset, angry, and he didn't want to accept any more changes in his life. And it hurt me. He was so scared and all he wanted was for Rupert to come back in his life and make things right. And I couldn't help him. But I know, deep down, that he's always been the boy who wanted to make everyone happy. I'm just not the right person who could bring it out." She smiles at me.

"Wyatt is really a good person." I tell her, squeezing her hand. "He was bullying me back then, and when he became my boss, I thought he was there to ruin my life. He was really, really bad at me when we were in high school. But despite, like you said, not wanting to change, I must admit that he has changed a lot. He became more mature, more patient, and less asshole." I chuckle. "Mia has a huge impact on his life."

"Believe it or not, it wasn't Mia who brought out the good back in him."

Melissa's eyes meet mine and I lower my head. Her words feel like it's directly to me. There are thoughts inside my head running, and it makes me question everything that is happening on my life, between me and Wyatt. Everything that Wyatt does is confusing me. He was supposed to ruin my life, fulfill his promise to me that he'd destroy me. We weren't supposed to be close with each other. We weren't supposed to kiss. My feelings shouldn't have grown into something more. I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. I wasn't supposed to know more about Wyatt. I wasn't mean to know these things about him. I want him to remain as a bully in my high school, not the troubled kid who lost his father at an early age.

Melissa squeezes my hands and smiles brightly at me.

"Thank you." She whispers and brushes the tears pooling in her eyes.

"I think I should go. I'm worried about mom. I haven't gone home last night and I'm sure she's worried. She knows I never do sleepovers." I let out a chuckle to lighten the mood. Melissa looks like she wants to insist I stay, but I pull my hands from her hold and stand up. My things are still in the room I woke up in. The sooner I leave this house, the better. "And I'll tell my mom you loved the pie. I'm sure she'd love to give you the recipes."

She nods and I make my way towards the bedroom.

My clothes are placed neatly on the desk, folded. I smell it and it smells so bad. There are stains on the shirt, and the pants smell like someone vomited on it. I'll just borrow the clothes I'm using right now, wash it, and give it back tomorrow or before we leave to Brooklyn.

I sit on the bed and let out an exasperated sigh. Even though the headache has been long gone, and I just literally had breakfast and just woke up thirty minutes ago, I feel like my whole body is screaming that I'm tired. Mentally and physically. Melissa's words run through my head, invading every part of my brain, and all I can think about is Wyatt and his past and how much he has changed.

"You're going home?"

I jump in surprise, standing up straight. Wyatt is standing there, his back perched on the doorway as he looks at me. I nod at him. He nods back.

"Let me drive you."

"No, that's alright. I can handle my own. Home is not probably that far away."

"I'm not taking no for an answer."

I purse my lips, not wanting to argue. Wyatt seems to be in a foul mood, and I want more than nothing to piss him off even more. He probably doesn't remember that we shared a kiss last night. If he did, he would have already brought it up. He motions for me to follow him. I grab my clothes and trail behind Wyatt. We pass by Melissa who is slouching on the couch. Her eyes meet mine. She smiles at me. Wyatt tells her that she's just going to take me home and that he's going to be back soon.

Climbing in the passenger seat, I put my seat belt on. Wyatt hides a smile that I caught and disguises it as a cough. I pretend I didn't see. Wyatt turns on the radio and backs away from the driveway. Now that I'm seeing the outside of his house, it is really huge. It's not really a mansion, but you can tell that they paid a million bucks to have this built. The lawn is newly trimmed, the plants near the back are taken care of, and the oak trees are healthy.

Within a minute, we're already hitting the road. I recognize the street and immediately know that I'm just a few blocks away from his home. Wyatt is supposed to turn left, but instead he turns right. I'm about to tell him that he should have turned left but Wyatt shakes his head, indicating that he has other plans. I remain seated despite the urge to throw myself out of the moving car, but I think better of it.

We're driving in the direction of the school.

"Why are we in Jacksonville?" I ask him but got no response.

Wyatt parks the car, gets out, and motions for me to follow him. I put my dirty clothes on the seat and climb out. I trail behind Wyatt, following him. We enter the school grounds and head straight to the back of the school, just near the football field. We halt to a stop near the benches. The place is empty. There's no one else around but us.

"Do you remember what happened here exactly 8 years ago, on this day?" he asks me.

I rack my brain for anything, a memory, but all I can think about is the football game that I attended with Melody and Donnie here. There's nothing else.

"Only the game between Jacksonville High School and New Summerfield."

"That's it." Wyatt nods his head and stares into the distance. He shoves his hands in his pockets. "It was around 8 in the evening, and the game was nearly done. You were watching with Melody and Donnie. And do you remember what you did?"

"Um... I was making out with Peter."

"Yes, you were making out with Peter. I saw it." He takes a deep breath. Wyatt has a conflicted look on his face. His face is a bit reddish, and his jaw is clenching and unclenching. "I knew Peter was part of the music club, and he was a pretty good singer, and that's probably what attracted you to him."

"I don't see... I... I don't understand, Wyatt. Why are you telling me this?"

"I'm really not a good singer. Actually, I'm a frustrated one." He chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. The conflicted look on his face is gone. "There was a music playing, and I was standing near this bench, and I was watching you guys kiss." He moves closer to me. "I was frustrated. This was the time I really realized that there's something in me that I wanted to let out. It was so hard. At that time, I was just singing "Dancing On My Own" by Robyn, and even though I'm not a good singer and I don't have a good voice, I just kept singing because that's how I felt."

"Wyatt..."

"I'm in the corner, watching you kiss her. I'm right over here, why can't you see me?" Wyatt sings. He looks like he's about to cry. "And I'm giving it my all, but I'm not the guy you're taking home. I keep dancing on my own."

I purse my lips, holding back myself from crying. Wyatt, as he sings, just looks at me with raw emotions in his eyes and it's too much for me. A tear slips from Wyatt's eye and I can't contain my emotions anymore. I let myself cry, but he continues singing.

"So far away but still so near. The light comes up, the music dies. But you don't see me standing here. I just came to say goodbye." He ends his song and Wyatt wraps his arms around me, crying his eyes out. "I've always liked you, Pierce. I didn't want to admit it to myself before, and I thought I had myself fixed, but then when I saw you again, feelings resurfaced. I... just... I just... I'm gay, Pierce. And I have always liked you."

Wyatt leans down and smashes his lips against mine. I oblige, kissing him back with just as passion. His palm rests at the small of my back while the other one cups my cheek. I shut my eyes and feel his tears against my face. My hands grip his hair, pulling him closer. I tilt my head to the side, deepening the kiss. He tugs on my lower lip, earning a moan from me. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in, and our tongues fight for dominance, but Wyatt slides his hand, the one cupping my cheek, to my neck and my knees suddenly get weak. His tongue roams inside my mouth, tasting every part and inch of me, and I love it. Wyatt pulls away, as breathless as I am, and rests his forehead against mine. My heart somersaults when I see the need in his eyes and I know that he has enjoyed the kiss just as much as I did.

"And I like the way you call me Wyatt and not my name," Wyatt states. "And the way you sing with so much emotions. I love that you prefer to listen to old music than the music presently, and I love how you made my mother happy. But I hate the fact that I've been so fucking scared since my father died, and I didn't know what to do. So I resorted to bullying you. Because I thought it made me look invulnerable. But I was wrong. I let the guy I had feelings for in high school graduate without telling him that I've always liked him. But it's a good thing he's standing in front of me, right?"

"Yes, yes, it is."

He chuckles, planting his lips against mine and I lean forward.

"This is really happening, right? We're both kissing? Wyatt? Ajax Wyatt? Kissing me?"

"Yes, yes. I am kissing you."

"Good, I have always had a crush on you back in high school."

"Do you still have a crush on me today?"

"No," Wyatt stops kissing me and stares at me. I can't believe we're making a conversation through the breaks of the kisses we share. "I think this is more than a crush."

"Are you for real?"

"Maybe..." He grins at me. We stop kissing, but I'm now missing the contact of his lips on mine. "But you don't have to dance on your own." I wink at him and he rolls his eyes playfully. "I'm tired of concealing my feelings, Wyatt. I like you. So much. So much it hurts."

"You don't have to be hurt anymore, especially now that I know you see me."

"Well..."

"And you're mine now."

"Excuse me?"

"Yes. You, Pierson Matthews, are mine now."

And I just blush. He leans down and captures my lips again for God knows how many now, but I let him. I love the feeling of his lips against mine. It's soothing and it's perfect on mine. I really this boy kissing me, that's in front of me. And I can't believe I'm so fucking happy right now, knowing I am Wyatt's, and well, he's mine.

And I think he's always been mine. We just didn't know it yet, but we have always been.