Creme Brûlée
Chris couldn't sleep.
It wouldn't be the first time that he's lost sleep over Josh Washington. But it was the first time that he's lost sleep because he's scared that Josh is going to rip his throat out in his dreams. Chris doesn't remember the last time he had a nightmare and the events last night seemed so unreal, Chris is sure he imagined half of it. Regardless.
Chris couldn't sleep.
So he plays video games until the sun beams through his window, eyes adjusting the new glare on his screen.
He can hear his dad rummaging around in the hallway. A knock comes to his door, the click of the knob turning fills the air. His dad appears, looking a little rough around the edges but smiling.
"I'm heading out. Left money on the counter, okay?"
Chris nods, squirming under the other's scrutinizing gaze. His dad gestures to the tired lines in Chris' face. "Not sleeping?"
"Josh is pissed at me." And possibly going to kill him in his sleep but Chris keeps that to himself. His dad chuckles softly.
"I think this is the longest you guys have fought since middle school." His dad muses. "What was it then? You sat with... what's her name?"
"Maddison Mitchell." Chris answers, a small smile slowly forming on his face.
Maddison Mitchell had been the new, it girl in Devil's Kettle, basking in the spotlight as the town finally stopped stalking critically acclaimed director, Bob Washington and his unnecessarily attractive family. Regardless Maddison Mitchell had moved here in middle school and Chris committed a heinous act against Josh Washington by sitting with his middle school crush at lunch and receiving his first kiss from her.
"Maddison Mitchell!" His dad exclaims, grinning widely. "Ah, Maddison, she moved didn't she?"
"Yeah." Chris sighs, digging the handle of his controller into his chin. Moving was the polite way of saying your father is a pedophile. Chris' dad beats his knuckle against the wall, giving Chris a small salute.
"I'll see you tonight."
"Right. Have a good day at work."
"Makin' money. Dollar dollar bills, y'all." His dad wiggles his fingers as he disappears down the hall, leaving a smiling son behind. They had gotten better. More specifically his dad had gotten better, once he set down the bottle and closed up the cabinets, and in turn Chris stopped locking himself in his room. Chris appreciated his dad's efforts despite feeling guilty that he wasn't as good at hiding his dejection as he thought.
Chris levels up a few more times on Fallout before readying to school. He doesn't check his phone, avoiding the creep of disappointment he knows he'll feel. Chris steals a cardigan from his dad's closet, layering it over a dark button up, before leaving with a swipe of his keys from his desk. He pockets the money left on the counter before leaving. The dent remains in his dashboard, this hand-shaped slope right in the middle, the only evidence any of what happened last night was real.
Chris passes by a news station van on the way to school, curiously eying two idle police cars parked near by. He hurries inside the school building once he's parked, eyes narrowing at the sobbing faces he passes on the way in. The cafeteria is full of students, some in mourning, some laughing and throwing paper balls across the tables. Chris checks his phone, searching his unread texts for answers.
"Chris!"
Chris spins around on his heel, nearly toppling over when Jess slams into him. He clutches his phone tightly, knees locking to accommodate the new weight. Jess is crying, hard, mascara streaking down her face, shoulders trembling and Chris is confused as to why everyone is crying, confused as to why he has a sobbing Jessica Sunderland in his arms.
"Marion Kinley is dead." She sobs into his chest. It takes a beat before he remembers who exactly that was. Marion Kinley was their school's baseball ace, Homeking two years in a row, overall decent human being and Jess' previous boyfriend.
Chris hugs Jess close, smoothing a hand over the curls in her hair. He thinks of Josh standing in front of Lexington smelling like disinfectant, thinks of Josh alone in the woods. It could've been Josh not here at school.
"Fuck, Jess, I'm so sorry." Chris holds her tighter.
Jess shakes her head, hiccuping loudly. She twists the front of Chris' shirt with small hands, crying even harder. He sees Matt in the distance, whose eyes are also red with feeling. Matt heads in their direction, wiping at his face furiously with the sleeves of his letterman jacket.
"Hey." He greets, sniffing.
"Hey. I heard. I'm sorry, bro." Chris tells him. Matt and Marion had been on the baseball team together, so close to best pals Chris isn't sure why they never fully initiated him in their band of misfits.
"Bear attack." Matt whispers incredulously. "A bear. We don't even get bears around here often."
"What? A bear?" Chris frowns. They were in Minnesota, Minnesota had bears, but no bears that troubled their sleepy hideaway town.
A group of kids Chris vaguely recognizes walk by, staring at Jess with pity and soft whisper of condolences. He hears bits of their voices as they leave, how the police found Marion picked apart in pieces, how his mom had to be the one to identify her only son.
Jess releases a heartbreaking wail, squeezing Chris' middle. Matt winces, reaching a hand out to touch her shoulder before he curls back in on himself. He glances back at Chris, regret lingering in his eyes, before walking away.
Sam finds them later, once Chris has managed to settle Jess down ("I'm such a mess, I'm so sorry, Chris." "No, stop it.") and gets the dried makeup off her face. She lets Jess manhandle her into more hugging, more crying and Sam sits through it all in uncomfortable, somber silence. Chris assumes she didn't know Marion very well, like him.
"Have you talked to Josh?" Sam asks softly, dabbing Jess' face with tissue. Sam turns to Chris. He shakes his head.
"Someone really, really... great.died. Life is short, Chris." Jess blows her nose noisily. "Go make up with your boyfriend before he dies of a fucking b-b-bear attack."
Chris doesn't correct her, watching helplessly as Jess collapses in tears again. Jess was right though. Sam gestures to the watch on her wrist.
"He's in his car. Class starts soon."
Chris thanks her, heading down the side hall to the front office. He passes by more distraught teenagers on his way out, a couple of teachers talking quietly against a pillar. Josh's car is nestled in the back of the parking lot, engine purring under the hood as the car remains idle.
Josh isn't smoking, which surprises Chris. Instead he's in his seat, knees pressed to his chest, texting on his phone. He appears better, a lot fucking better than earlier this week, color coming back into his skin. The dark circles receding into something that could be excused with not enough sleep. He also wasn't snarling so Chris takes this as an improvement.
"Hey."
Josh's fingers still over the screen, shoulders hunched. He folds his arms over his abdomen, kicking his legs out over the center console. Josh doesn't look at him.
"Hey." Josh replies curtly.
Chris props himself against the car, leaning down to peer inside the open window. He notices thin red lines along Josh's arm.
"Did you hear about Marion?"
Josh tenses up, closing up impossibly tight and he nods slowly. His jaw locks, fingers curling around his arms. Josh exhales shakily, tears filling his eyes.
"Josh-"
"I don't want to talk about it." Josh snaps, slumping down in his seat. Chris opens his mouth to speak, words dying as he watches Josh bite hard into his knuckles.
"Josh," Chris licks his lips. "We're bros. We're best friends. I'm your best man."
"Chris, I really-"
"Just listen, Josh." Chris stresses, hands coming to rest on the window frame. Josh looks at him, head rolling to the side, eyes rimmed red and Chris doesn't want to watch Josh cry. Not today. Preferably never.
But this was better. Better than the car ride from Lexington, better than Josh storming out into the dark, leaving Chris alone with his thoughts, with his fear.
"Ashley needed me. I didn't... just ditch you, Josh. I wouldn't have done it without a reason. You know that. She-"
Josh scoffs. "I don't care. I don't want to know, okay? I don't. I fucking don't, Chris. I have enough shit."
Chris grunts angrily, frowning. He sighs heavily, forcing himself still when he wants to march away. Josh is wiping at his eyes.
"Yeah, well. I'm your best friend. Deal with it."
Josh forces out a laugh. "We aren't friends."
"Someone fucking died, Josh!" Chris shouts, startling both of them. He takes a shaky breath. "We're bros, dumbass. Are you skipping class or what? It's a school of crying kids. I don't want to see that."
To be honest Chris feels sick, really sick because Josh could've been the one in a billion in regards to a bear attack. A fucking bear. Josh gives him a lopsided smile, all evidence of anger slowly evaporating. "I hate crying."
"Then let's go."
Chris claps the side of the door, rounding the hood to fall into Josh's passenger seat. Josh straightens in his seat, rolling his eyes with a snort when Chris hits his head on the door. Chris falls back with a groan, struggling to pull on his seatbelt.
"Fuck." He snatches Josh's aux cable before the other can, grinning widely when Josh pinches his arm.
"Any shit music and I'm leaving your ass."
"Just hurry up and leave before Bateman catches us."
Josh shifts gears, easing out of his parking spot as Chris selects a song. He watches the school fade away, watches the cop cars out front, the news van all fade into soft shades of blue and green and orange.
"Did you know you growled at me?"
Josh's hand stills on the gear. "I did?"
"Yeah. Yesterday before you went all batman and disappeared into the forest." Chris leaves out the part out where Josh had left a dent in his car.
"Freaky." Josh mumbles, tapping his fingers nervously on the steering wheel as he drives. He's quiet, moving in between cars with practiced ease. The sun hits him in the side just right, skin glistening brown and the shadows under his eyes seem so far away. Chris finds himself staring. Josh squints, hooking his visor to the side.
He notices Chris. "Dude. You're staring. I'm still pissed so you can't just stare at me like you used to."
"I-I don't stare!" Chris gapes, blushing furiously. He catches the beginning of a smirk crawling across his best friend's face. Chris presses his fist against his lips, intently staring out the window.
"You stare, Cochise."
"Shut up, Josh." Chris mumbles.
They stop at McDonald's, Josh ordering too much food and handing the cashier Chris' money when they get to the window.
"Dude. I'm saving for.." Chris resigns, taking the bag of food shoved into his chest along with his change. He drops the coins into the cup holder.
"Still pissed." Josh snorts, changing gears and they're driving again, along the emptying roads. The same roads Chris has driven on all his life, smothered in trees and wood and rock. The same roads that didn't hold any value until the Washington's moved here.
"Are you driving to make out point?"
"God, Chris, you're such a lame. It's called the Point."
"So you are?"
"Just shut up, bro. I don't want to deal with crying kids. It's depressing." Josh changes gears. "There's no place else to go in this bumblefuck town anyway. Why, Cochise? Finally gonna lemme suck you off?"
"You wish." Chris smirks despite the pounding in his chest. He rolls down the window, trying to ease the heat that swells inside him. Josh snickers beside him. Chris punches him in the arm without looking.
The Point wasn't a dramatic hill overlaying the city, wasn't some carefully placed slot of land next to a lake. It wasn't even a point. It was a parking lot, a parking lot with a broken down brick building beside it that sat on the edge of town. No one knew what it was, what it used to be but the roof held together with its bare windows and degradation.
Josh parks in the bushes, his small car easily fitting among overgrown vines and plants. He follows Chris inside, lighting up a cigarette as they walk, shoulder to shoulder, arms brushing one another.
"You bring Ashley here yet?" Josh inquires, tossing his lighter in between hands.
Chris bumps him. "No, dick. This place isn't nice enough."
"You're such a girl, Cochise."
The Point was gross. It smelt of piss and sour wet tang. Graffiti lined the walls, spiders webbed along the corners. Chris wouldn't bring anyone here. Ever. Josh pushes open the door leading to the fire escape, elbows bent back as he leans, cigarette in hand, watching Chris hurry inside. They take the stairs two at a time, until the empty windows stop, leaving a dark trip to the entrance of the roof.
Chris hadn't been up here since the end of freshman year and it had been with Josh and Emily, who bitched the whole time but her mom was leaving so Chris figured she had things to bitch about. Nothing had changed since then, still a flat, rustic looking surface with police tape wrapped around a dejected generator. Josh sits on the edge, swinging his legs over the brick side. Chris eyes the edge warily, slowly sitting down on the shifting ledge. He peeks over, tiny rocks stumbling off. The parking lot spreads out before them. Josh laughs at him.
"I won't push you. Promise." Josh flicks the bud to the parking lot beneath them.
Chris fishes out a McChicken, shoving it into Josh's hands without a word. He nervously unwraps his own burger. They eat in silent for a moment, a bird chirping as it soars over him.
"You kiss her yet?" Josh looks at Chris, mouth open around another bite.
"Nah. She's not that into me." Chris replies, earning a frown.
"You ditched me to not kiss Ashley? I'm confused. She likes you."
"Josh, Ashley is a lesbian. An actual lesbian. Real life lesbian." Chris stresses, searching Josh's face for any sign of understanding.
Josh continues frowning. "Ok. So you bailed... on me, your bro, for Ashley, who is not into you and a lesbian?"
"Her parents."
"Oooh." Josh says in acknowledgement. He sets his elbow on Chris' shoulder, crinkling the burger wrapper in his hands. "Bummer."
"Nah." Chris shrugs, handing Josh another burger. His friend takes it gratefully. "Hannah says you got a new medication."
Josh nods. "Yeah. 's making me fucking hungry all the time. It sucks. It's affecting my stomach and my dick. Can't get hard for shit. I don't even want to."
"This the part where you say to take it to my grave?"
"You bet, Cochise. Can't have the ladies thinking I'm off the market. Even though currently I am. I have the sex drive of a snail. Slow and just not going anywhere. 's making me salty."
Chris chuckles. "That the real reason you've been so pissy?"
Josh's arm on his shoulder folds down, fingers pinching Chris' right nipple through his shirt. Chris yelps, burger tumbling from his hands to the hard cement beneath them as Josh whistles beside him.
"No homo."
"Fuck, dude. That hurt." Chris whines, rubbing the sore spot on his chest.
"I'm sorry. I was just... bummed. It was kind of a big deal. Inviting you." Josh smiles, tucking his head on Chris' shoulder, arm draped uncomfortably between them.
"I'm sorry, man."
"'s cool, Cochise." Josh says smoothly, taking out a clear prescription container. The name is scratched out. He thumbs two small white pills out, slipping them into his mouth wordlessly. Chris watches Josh's throat work, Adams apple dipping before it rolls back up. He thinks about kissing Josh, about sliding his fingers through that thick, messy dark hair and kissing him.
Josh tilts his head, eyes boring into Chris' face, lips parting slowly. Chris doesn't realize he's leaning in until they're almost too close. He can smell Josh's cologne, the minty shampoo he used this morning. They're so close, necks elongated, chins angled and it'd be so, so easy to just kiss Josh Washington.
"I feel bad about Marion." Josh averts his gaze. He forces a smile, arm sliding from Chris shoulder and he's moving away. "I didn't know him very well. Only through Jess, ya know? But he was a nice guy."
Chris pulls himself straight, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes. His cheeks feel warm.
"You haven't been sleeping. Cause of me?"
"Nah, dude. Been having some weird dreams." Technically it wasn't a lie.
Josh smirks. "Oh yeah like what?"
Chris wants to tell Josh that all of his nightmares this week have been about Josh coming into his room, sharp toothed and hungry and sometimes he'd press his broken nails into Chris' stomach until the insides bleed out. He wants to tell him, but Josh is staring at him expectantly, those crisp eyes narrowing with every beat of silence.
"My mom." Chris lies, sliding his glasses up his nose. "She comes back and bakes one single apple pie. Then she leaves with it."
"That is weird." Josh pats Chris on the thigh. "You gonna see her soon?"
Chris hadn't been to his mom's grave since she died four years ago. He knows his dad frequents it often but Chris, Chris had yet to make that journey.
"I guess I should." Chris admits, fiddling with the ends of his cardigan.
"Want me to go with you?"
Chris didn't want to talk about it. "Is there going to be a thing for Marion?"
Josh frowns at the subject change but doesn't try to bring it up again.
"No idea. Probably. He was popular." Josh says quietly, scratching his shoulder. Chris wants to say he's glad it wasn't Josh but it seemed like a shitty thing to admit when the town has to have a funeral. Josh gives a half hearted shrug, reaching down inside the McDonalds bag.
"Want to split these nuggets?" Josh asks, setting two small containers in between them. He fishes out barbecue sauce from the bottom of the bag.
Chris nods. "You still pissed?"
Josh's eyes flicker up to him, lingering on Chris' mouth before turning away. Chris wonders if he thinks about it, thinks about kissing the way Chris thinks about it all the time.
"Kinda pissed. I've been having bad dreams." Josh stares down at a nugget in his palm. It's shaped like a whale. "My parents think I'm just freaking out over the new medication so I stopped talking about it. But they're bad, Chris. Really bad. I've had them since last weekend."
"Guess me not coming really took a shit on your life." Chris jokes but Josh doesn't smile like he normally would, doesn't slur out a curse or nudge Chris in the arm. Josh just stares, stares into the whale nugget as if it holds answers to whatever's warring in Josh's mind.
Josh cocks his shoulder back, hurling it without warning. Chris follows the nugget until it disappears into the trees. Josh places his hands on his knees, legs rocking slightly over the edge, back and forth and back and forth.
"Guess so." Josh sighs, fixing Chris with a dopey grin. He punches Chris, hard. Really, really hard.
"Ow!" Chris yelps, rubbing the affected spot roughly. It pulses under his hand.
"Not pissed anymore. Let's go play games at your place. Wanna kick your ass at least twice on Tekken before lunch." Josh smirks, bringing his legs back over the edge. He crushes the McDonalds bag under his boot.
"What about the nuggets?" Chris hurries to follow after him, snapping the containers closed.
"Leave them. The birds will eat it." Josh says over his shoulder, thin legs crossing the long distance with ease. Chris blinks and Josh is already at the door, propped open by his foot. He takes out a crushed pack of cigs.
"Dude, come on."
Chris groans, hauling himself up and leaving the half eaten food behind. He jogs lightly the rest of the way, smacking the Marlboro's in Josh's hand to the ground.
"Dude!" Josh exclaims, bending down to swipe the cartridge up. "Why are you such a dickweed?"
"It makes your sisters sad. You should stop." Chris tells him.
Josh jabs a finger in Chris' chest, teeth barred.
"Don't." Josh hisses. "Fucking don't, okay?"
Chris sighs, holding a hand up in surrender. He knew it was a sore subject, family in general was despite how close Josh was to his sister's. It was for Chris too. But he'd rather laugh about the fact that his dad's a sobering alcoholic and his mom is dead than cry.
Josh sighs, regret twisting his mouth into a frown, and he places a hand on Chris' shoulder, thumb pressed into his collarbone. Josh squeezes gently, turning to begin the dark descent down the stairs. Chris trails after him, waving a hand in front of his face as Josh's lighter clicks to life, the thick swell of smoke following.
"I'm sorry about Ashley."
Chris stares at the back of Josh's head, taking in the slight bend in his spine, the way he sags into his left side as he walks. Chris wasn't sorry about Ashley but he was sorry that her coming out story wouldn't be a smooth one.
"It's whatever. More girls right?"
Josh's shoulder tenses as he walks but he's nodding, holding up his hand in agreement. The cigarette in his fingers burns quietly into ash.
"More girls, Cochise."