The Boys Across The Road

[Gossijay]

Chapter One: A hole in your body

Ryan

Three Months Earlier

When someone’s watching you, it’s like you can feel it. That weightless beam of curiosity resting on you. The person’s glare so strong, your forced to look up and find where the gaze is coming from. For me, I looked up into the eyes of the Stranger.
“So, Dude, what are you getting?” Daniel Falconer my best friend asked me, his green eyes bright with excitement. “The lip piercing, the tongue or the industrial? The lip piercing is mega cool, but it’s impossible to hide. The tongue piercing is cool, but not as cool as the lip, but it’s easier to hide. The industrial’s not really cool at all, but your Mom would probably accept it way more then the other two.”
Daniel and I were sitting in the waiting room of the well-known town tattoo parlour X-Inkz. The room was dim with red walls and black accents. There were pictures of tattoos and people with piercing all over the walls. There was only one girl who worked there; Piper Geoff. She was the older sister of Kristoff Geoff, the latest victim of TJ’s cheating.
“I think I’m going to get the tongue piercing. It’s cool and easy to hide.” I looked over at Daniel who was gazing at me in such a way under his thick black eyelashes. Ever since he admitted he was gay, I was a little jumpy about how he looked at me and the way he acted around me. I didn’t want to have to tell off my best friend because he had a crush on me. Without even knowing it, I had become a Stag Hag; the male equivalent of a Flame Dame. A guy with a gay friend. “Do you think it’s going to hurt?”
I felt immature for asking that question, but come on we are immature. We’re two fourteen year old boys planning on getting piercing only to have them ripped out of our faces once our parents set eyes on them. Knowingly going into it knowing that a large sum of money was about to be paid and we would have to go through needless pain and painful healing. My plan was to hide the piercing until it was fully healed, and keep a spare stud on me. So when Mom found out and took away the original one, I could still wear the spare one to school without her knowing.
Silence fell over my ears, that’s when I really noticed the stranger. It is not polite to notice someone while their noticing you, but I could not help it. It was like someone slipped glasses over my eyes. Magnifying his gaze and finally allowing me to face the fact without distraction. He was watching me.
The stranger had grey hair the colour of sterling silver. It gleamed in the grey light, and hung in front of his eyes in wisps. I know he had dyed it, because his eyebrows were a dark blonde and his eyelashes were long and blonde. His face was so interesting, I couldn’t look away. I just wanted to run my fingers over the smooth angular contours of his face. He had bright green irises, hidden behind hooded lids. He looked bored, un-amused, but amazing. His skin was pale and almost ghost white. The angles in his face were sharp and it gave him an edge. The way his nose sloped softly and his high cheek bones. He had thin shapely lips, which turned down slightly at the corners.
As soon as he noticed me noticing him noticing me his lips turned into a small smile. “Boy,” He whistled loudly, sending the whole parlour to turn and look at him. His green eyes were traveling from the top of my unkempt and messy hair to the bottom of my feet. Up and down, just like an elevator “You look exactly like your brother.”
The boy was behind the counter. He looked to be roughly eighteen, just about to graduate from high school are already moving onto College or University. He was leaned over the counter, gazing at me with those eyes. Those intense green eyes flicking across my body like flames. The way he smiled wasn’t just with his lips but with his eyes and his whole being. He was just beaming at me. There was something about him that attracted me, drew me in. He was just so different I wanted him to know about me and I wanted to know about him. His gaze was captivating. Was being a Stag Hag making me this way? Was this attraction?
“You know TJ? TJ Milton-Edouard?” I asked, tensing slightly in my chair. I found myself wondering if I looked like a fool in my baggy skinny jeans, green and blue high necked hoodie and green chucks. I smoothed out my sweater, no need to have odd lumps appearing all over my body. I was even beginning to touch my hair when I gave myself a mental slap.
“Oh jah, oh jah!” The boy was putting on a Swedish accent now. His eyes were dancing behind his silver bangs. “Ve vere very good friends.”
Daniel was almost crying now with laughter. He had to wipe tears from the corners of his eyes. What little pride he had, he was forcing himself too much on Holiday. Laughing at every word that came out of his mouth.
“No really. TJ tried to hook me up with this person I didn’t really like too much. I see you and TJ in the hallways sometimes, but TJ never says ‘hi’ to me. The whole school knows he’s gay now, and nothing really changed. For TJ, being so damn good-looking and popular, nothing even homosexuality is going to drive away people. His football friends even joke with him about them liking him and all that crap.” The boy continued. He rolled his eyes at some parts, smiling a sad smile.
“He’s cute funny and not a slave to the popular authority? Daniel likey!” Daniel whispered in my ear. Daniel looked at the boy with those eyes filled with infatuation. He growled and made purring noises silently.
Do you see this? Is this really my life?
“I’m Holiday McMillin by the way. I know you are Ryan Milton-Edouard.” He walked out from behind the counter and grasped my hands in his. They were warm and slightly chalky. It’s hard for me to admit this, but I liked the way his hands felt. Smooth but just a little rugged, probably from doing manual work. He gave me a strong firm handshake.
Holiday. What a name. It was different and unusual just like the way he looked. Holiday’s face is one that you never forget.
“This is my best friend, uh…what’s your name again?” I joked. Daniel looked like he wanted to sit on my head and let a knee-trembling fart fly.
Holiday started giggling. “I’m joking. He’s Daniel Falconer.”
Holiday shook Daniel’s hand with as much warmth and kindness as he did to me. “So what can I do for you little kids?”
It was the first time I noticed Holiday didn’t have any piercing or tattoos visible. Maybe he had them hidden under his clothes? Good glob, I was thinking about Holiday in nothing but his underwear now.
“We want to get our tongues pierced.” Daniel told Holiday. He folded his arms across his chest as if he was cold, and looked over at me.
Holiday grinned and stuck out his tongue. Revealing a silver stud in the middle of his tongue. “I have three piercing you can’t see right now.”
My face was burning now. I looked over at Daniel and he looked over at me grinning. He was fixing his shirt and inspecting his popped collar like Holiday was going to ask him out on a date right at this very moment.
“I’d get you guys all set up, but there’s one problem. No parental permission.” Holiday crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Daniel with those green eyes, then he looked over at me.
“My mom drove me here. She knew I was coming here, and I wouldn’t just fly over to somewhere with 100 dollars in my pocket for no reason.” I lied. Daniel and I had trucked through the snow all by ourselves. By the time we got here, Daniel and I had to hold hands to warm each other up. You can imagine all that was going through my head.
Daniel kicked me in a completely oblivious way and gave me those eyes. The eyes that were screaming at me that I cannot tell a lie if it was to save my life.
Holiday chuckled, covering his mouth as if he was letting out a huge cackle. “Do you really think I’m that dense? I’m sorry, kiddos, you need permission. Come back with your Mommies and Daddies, and I’ll be happy to help you. Ryan, just bring your mom. She’s sex on fire.”
I rolled my eyes as the two fools (Holiday and Daniel) chuckled into chuckle city.
“Please, Holiday! My mom will never let me get it, please, please!” Daniel was begging now. Clasping his hands together like a bum on the curb-side.
Holiday shook his head. “Now you two run along, I have customers to attend to. Come back with permission and I would be happy- no thrilled to put a hole in your body.” Holiday giggled along with the last part, smiling like he was actually amused with kicking two teenage boys out of a tattoo parlour.
Daniel and I climbed out of the chairs and prodded over to the exit and slowly dragging our feet. Daniel and I looked behind us at Holiday, who was still standing in the same place with his hands in his pockets. Begging him silently with our eyes to beckon us back and pierce our tongues. Holiday wasn’t about to give in.
I could feel it again. Holiday’s on me. I knew he was watching me again. I turned around to see him disappear behind a door. I was coming back to this tattoo parlour if it was the last thing I did. Permission or not. I was coming back.


“Dirk! Dirk, are you here?” I called loudly as I pushed open the hazardous metal, plastic and glass door, it swung open easily almost smashing into my shin.
I was there in the Ghost House. It was called the Ghost House because no one knew it existed. It was abandoned years upon years before I was born, now it was bug infested and filthy. But what really made it the non-existent house, was the fact that there was a huge spruce tree that grew right in the middle of the front yard of the house. Everyone thought it was a street corner until it burst into flames eight years ago. Despite the knowledge of the house, no one would live there, except for one kid.
Dirk Milkrow was the teenage boy who got kicked out of his parents house a few years back. I felt sorry for him, since he was barely 16. A homeless street kid that had no where to go spotted the charred Ghost House and decided to make it his home. With nothing but the clothes on his back and his acoustic guitar for entertainment, he stays in the ghost house all of the time. He’s 21 now, but he still acts like he’s a kid. TJ and I just met him last year and TJ refers to him as the walking disease, but come on, you’re a hobo, the last time you took a bath was when you stood outside in the rain.
When I heard the few slow strumming notes of Dirk’s guitar, my mind flooded back to when I first met him. Last summer, the summer TJ made his big announcement.

“I dare you to inhale Blake’s fart!” TJ said to Rikku Santo. Rikku and TJ were both 13 year old boys, fresh out of Middle School. Neither of them valued sports over girls, Rikku was the pervert master. He was the only guy to graduate North Woods Junior High who took pictures under girl’s skirts.
TJ had a real cute girlfriend then. Theresa Collens. He had his arm around her right now, whispering sweet words.
Blake was rolling his eyes, but he looked excited all the same. Blake that silly fool, never turned down a dare.
TJ, Blake, Rikku, Theresa, Kristoff, Melanie Ivory and I were all outside on the pavement in the middle of the road, at the middle of the night. Stupid of course, but we were so immature then. I know it was six months ago that we were sitting on the grass doing dares. Ever since TJ made his big announcement, everything had changed. So much, that six months felt like six years.
Rikku flicked up the collar of his green polo. He grabbed Melanie’s small face in his hands and kissed her like he’d never see her again. Her eyes were so big, they rivalled the circumference of a dinner plate. “Just in case I don’t ever live again.”
Blake, TJ, Theresa and I whooped and hollered. Melanie and Rikku always liked each other, but it took a lot of pushing and about three years to get them to go out.
Blake was crouched over waiting for Rikku. Poor Rikku was already making his way over to Blake. His Louis V sneakers slapping on the cold concrete. The moon was covered in a layer of clouds and the stars were hung out. I don’t know what a bunch of teenagers sitting in the middle of the road at midnight were doing. It certainly wasn’t smart.
Blake let fly a deep knee-trembler. Honestly, it sounded like a gunshot, and I bet that the sound wasn’t even the worst part.
TJ was keeling over and Theresa’s whole body was shaking with giggles. Melanie had her shirt over her nose, trying to filter the scent.
Poor Rikku. I saw his chest rise as he inhaled deeply. His eyes went wide as if he saw a ghost. He was grabbing at his heart as if he was dying. Nice one, Blake.
Rikku staggered to his feet and ran over to the man-hole used to let in rainwater. He got down on his knees and threw up right through the bars.
Ew.
When everyone quit laughing and they finally calmed down, it was Blake’s turn to dare who ever he chose.
Rikku was still bent over the man-hole, and he was in fact laying in foetal position around the drainage hole. “Ryan, I’m going to die!” He hollered to me. I sniggered and put my attention back to the group.
“Ryan!” Blake yelled, pointing one finger at me. “I dare you to stay in the Ghost House for ten minutes!”
“I heard that house is haunted.” Theresa said, gripping TJ’s arm tighter and looking into his eyes. Ironically, TJ looked over at Kristoff. His secret lover. The boy who brought him out into the world of homosexuality. At the time, the world of confusion.
“I don’t back down from challenges, right TJ?” I jeered at my brother poking fun at the fact that he always turned down his dares. He hated doing anything besides obeying the rules, homework and sucking up to mom. It’s like he was afraid of letting himself be himself.
I rose from my spot in the middle of the concrete and made my way over to the house. My sneakers felt sticky against the floor, and I almost wished that I could just get stuck to the floor and never have to move forward into that house. The wind cut through my white hoodie like a hot knife through butter. Why did I think this was a good idea? Why couldn’t I break free and gain independence from TJ? Why couldn’t I make my own friends? I could’ve been snuggled under a cover talking to them about the latest episode of Death-Note. Here I was about to enter the Ghost House.
My fingers fumbled for the cool metal latch. The door was made of thin pieces of metal, plastic and glass. I struggled with opening the door, as if it was jammed. When I did pull it open, it swung widely and collided with my shin. I swore loudly and took a step in. Cobwebs stuck to my face, and were hard to brush off, just like my fears. It was completely dark in the house. Darkness just seemed to swallow up the whole house. The colour in the peeling wall-paper. The supposed lustre in the hardwood floor. All of the light that filtered through was a God given gift. I tried to walk in the light, as if that was going to protect me from the darkness. It gave me a sense of security, the fact that I could see what was a few feet in front of me.
Sounds of footsteps filled my ears and I froze. My whole heart was pounding and thrashing. Blood was swimming quickly through my veins. My palms were sweating, moist and clammy now. I clenched my fist together and swallowed. I opened my mouth and a panicked gasp escaped my throat. I felt like bolting out of the door, but I know I shouldn’t. Five minutes didn’t even pass yet, but if felt like five years had passed. The scent of must, dirt, grime and soot was just overwhelming. I had to get out of here, or else I was sure I was going to have a panic attack. The moment I was sure that my heart was about to burst through my chest, someone grabbed my shoulder.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, turning around to see who had frightened me.
And there he was. He looked barely over 19 years old now, but he looked so grime-filled and filthy. He had stringy sand brown hair. It pooled around his shoulders. He had pale brown eyes, that were wide and vulnerable. There was a guitar on his back. He was wearing a tattered dust covered Blink 182 t-shirt, that was baggy on his emaciated form. He was also wearing a torn, dirty brown hoodie, a pair of jeans and an old greying pair of Timberland Boots. He looked like a typical teenager, aside from the fact that he looked like had lived in this house for all of his life.
“Holy ----,” I gasped for my breath. “You almost killed me!” I screamed. I clutched my heart like Rikku had, my heart beat racing like a car down the high-way.
The boy chuckled and crossed his arms over my chest. “Well that’s my job. I don’t need no other homeless punk-ass kid tryna steal my home.” He sat down on the stair case, which caved in upon his malnourished body sitting on it.
“You live hear? You’re homeless? How long have you been camping out in this house?” I asked, in shock. I know he was dirty and tattered, but I really didn’t expect him of being homeless.
“My folks threw me out of the house when I was sixteen for getting some girl pregnant. I told her I didn’t want anything to do with the baby. She was such I slut, I bet the baby wasn’t even mine. I had an apartment, but I stopped paying rent and they kicked me out. I didn’t have any place to go, so I just decided to settle down here.” He confessed. “Better then being out in the rain and snowed on, you know?”
“Why are you telling me all this?” I asked him. I was wondering why he was so interested in sharing his past with me so blatantly and so quickly. He barely knew me. For all he could’ve known, I could’ve been a hobo here to steal his house from him.
“Well, I haven’t talked to anyone like you in a while. Everyone who’s ever looked on me gives me that pity glance and a few nickels. You looked at me like I was an actual person.” The guy said. He ran his fingers through his hair. “I think I’ve been here for about four years. I don’t know. You loose count when you’ve been doing something for so long.”
“Don’t you eat?” I was looking at his arms again. His bones were showing through his pale skin. His fingers were like boney little projections. “Do you want me to get your something to eat?”
“You know the compost thing? How everyone just takes all there degrading or degradable, I don’t know, garbage and puts them in those green bins? I go through them sometimes. Find some good things. I found a whole trey of brownies once. Best treat of my life.” He smiled as if he was tasting the brownies as he spoke. “They weren’t even that rotten. Just a little fuzz here and there.”
“I’m Ryan Milton-Edouard.” I told him and held out my hand. I looked at him through the moonlight, and he looked just like any other kid. The vulnerability in his eyes were impossible to ignore.
“I’m Dirk Milkrow, pleased to meet you.” He grabbed my hand and shook It vigorously.
“Dirk! Dude, can you answer!” I yelled as I brushed cobwebs out of my hair as I moved forward in the house. The floor creaked under the weight of my sneakers. There were footsteps in the black of the dirt, where Dirk must’ve walked around.
“Ryan? Is that you?” Dirk emerged from the shadows, his guitar out on his lap. He was strumming slowly, with a sombre smile on his face.
“Dude, I need you to stand in as my Dad again.” I admitted, tucking my hands into my pockets. I looked around trying to find a place to sit. I still remember the way the stairs fell in when Dirk sat down.
“Is this a school thing? They are not going to believe you’re Dad is a bum with ratty clothes, knotty hair and a rugged beard.” Dirk chuckled.
“I want to get my tongue pierced and the stupid guy’s saying that I’ve got to have parental permission. Holiday, you’re my last hope.” When I realized what I had said, I slapped my hand over my mouth. Was he really beginning to stick into my mind?
“Who’s Holiday?” Dirk asked me, his eyebrows already arching with his questions. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest and gave me a grin.
“Ugh, he’s this guy. Can you come with me down to the tattoo parlour? Just to stand in as my Dad? I’ll pay and everything.” I leaned on the soot covered banister and looked at Dirk.
“Alright then, let’s move.” Dirk said. He swung his guitar off of his back and hung it off of the coat hanger.
It boggled my mind that no one had came and interrupted Dirk. Some good Samaritan come to put him in a shelter, or a nosy neighbour reporting an abandoned house. Dirk had been living here for so long. I know others didn’t have the same compassion I had for Dirk, but maybe the people in my street decided to let sleeping dogs lie.