I cross the dark room, catch the curtain fluttering in the wind and look out of the window. There’s a thick oak tree growing right in front of the house, its branches so close to the walls that they have to be trimmed every spring. I look down and, through the maze of leaves, I see a slim figure in a dark hoodie let go of the lowest branch and jump to the ground with a muffled thump.Raven.My first instinct is to call out for him, but I hold my tongue. If he went to such lengths to sneak out, it’s unlikely he’ll just come back when called. Also, it could wake Catherine up, and I don’t want to upset her. She relies on me. I can handle this.I turn around and hurry back to my room. I move around it like a tornado, grabbing and pulling on my pants, shirt, shoes, tying my shoelaces. Then I tiptoe to the stairs and go down as quiet as I can. There, I grab my keys and head for the exit.Once on the street, I breath in
Dark trees blur together as I keep on running, turning from one desolate alley to another. Occasionally, I notice people. Some of them stare at me, others step back into the shadows, even less willing to be seen than I am to see them. Whoever comes here after dark knows what they’re looking for. What am I looking for?Raven. I’ve got to find Raven and get out of here.Finally, I stop by a small grey building with a restroom sign on its wall. Ladies to the right, gentlemen to the left. Even without the sign, the smell in unmistakable. I lean with one hand on the brick wall and try to catch my breath.I’ve lost him. I should just go home and hope he comes back. If he doesn’t...well, not that I care about him, but Catherine could lose her fostering license if something happened to him while in her care, and helping children means so much to her.Damn.There’s voices behind the wall, and then a quiet
When I come home from school, I can tell that Raven is already there. His school bag is on the floor by the entrance and his shoes are lying next to the shoe rack. Apart from that, music is blaring upstairs.My annoyance rising, I glance into the kitchen. The sink is full of dirty dishes from the last night and today. He’s been living with us for three days already, and he hasn’t washed them once, despite picking it as his chore. Either Catherine will have to do it again, or I will, to save her the trouble.No freaking way.I go up the stairs. His door is closed, but he’s not allowed to lock it, so I push it and stride in, and then freeze, the volume of music so powerful it almost pushes me back.Raven is sitting by his desk—his profile to me, his feet on the table, his books and papers in disarray, his clothes on the bed. He has begun plastering posters of what appears to be his favorite band, “Fake Drug&rd
Violence is never the answer,” says Catherine. “You shouldn’t have hit him.”We’re sitting in the kitchen, the yellow lamp under the ceiling filling the space with soft cozy light. The tablecloth is familiarly sticky under my elbows, and the sandwich is tasty despite the tomatoes she insists on putting in it even though I hate them. They contain antioxidants, she tells me every time. They’re good for you.Only had she really cared about what’s good for me, she wouldn’t have brought Raven into our home. Everything was fine. Now this piece of shit is sitting across from me by the table, looking like some emaciated panda with his ridiculous smokey eyes makeup. Sandra used to make up like this, that is why I know the term, but where she was subtle, Raven seems to slap the whole contents of his makeup kit on his face and then add some more.“He called me a faggot,”
I like this dream. It’s one of those rare ones when you know that you’re dreaming, so you can pretty much do what you want. Given that Sandra is in it with me, it’s clear what I wantShe’s sitting on my bed, smiling invitingly, dressed in a black lingerie that I have never seen her wear in real life. I wrap my hands around her and help her on top of me so that her butt is rubbing against my erection. My hands roam over her body, squeezing and groping, helping her out of her barely existing lingerie. Her smile gets wider as her fingers wrap around my cock, forcing a moan from me. I hope I don’t wake up before we do it. It’s been a while. Having sex in a dream is better than no sex at all.And yet the fabric of the dream gets thinner, perhaps chased away by my moan, and even though my hands still feel her hot skin, I also become aware of the ticking of the alarm clock next to my bed and a car honkin
I pull Raven up to his feet, swing him around and wrap my hands around him so that his back is pressed to me. At first he makes a half-surprised, half-pleased sound, and rubs against me, but as I begin to drag him towards the door, he realizes my intentions and begins to struggle. He tries to unclench my fingers and digs his heels into the floor, but I make it to the door and open it with my elbow.“Let go,” he hisses once we’re in the corridor.“Shut up,” I whisper.“What’re you doing?” he whispers back. It’s almost funny how we keep our voices down and our struggle as quiet as possible, both of us unwilling to wake Catherine up, although for different reasons. He doesn’t want to face the consequences of his actions, while I just want to save her the heartache of finding out the boy she hoped was on his way to recovery is secretly taking drugs. As ridiculous as her trust i
perhaps all the evidence is hidden under his excessive make up.“Morning, sweetie,” says Catherine, pecking me on the cheek. “Did you make a sandwich for Raven, too?”“He’s not a baby,” I mutter. “He can do it himself.”“Yes, but a bit of thoughtfulness could go a long way,” she says before disappearing into the kitchen. Raven pauses to give me a smug grin.“Morning, sweetie,” he says quietly so that Catherine wouldn’t hear. “Have fun at school,” he adds, louder. “I’m, sadly, suspended.”“Yes, and I hope you’ll use it to prepare for that math test,” Catherine says from the kitchen.“Sure, I will.” He turns away from me and goes into the kitchen. “One of my friends has agreed to come and help me to study, if you don’t mind,&rdquo
He’s poisoning my life. Even as I’m sitting at my lessons, or hanging out with the guys during the breaks, or eating my lunch, or driving to the baseball practice, there’s just constantly that underlying feeling of something wrong. Knowing that Raven is at home and up to who knows what new mischief is nagging at me.I guess it’s the lack of control that gets to me so badly. Not having nearly as much influence over my life as I thought I had.I’ve got to find some way to convince Catherine to get rid of him.Even coach Williams notices something’s amiss.“Are you all right?” he says. “You seem distracted.”“I’m fine,” I say, but then, surprising myself, add, “No, actually, I don’t feel so well.”“Oh?” He frowns, then reaches out and touches my forehead in a surprisingly parent