Page 7 of A Layperry's Hope
We step into Miles’ and Timalah’s house. Timalah takes Druim into his room while Miles and I go to the couch. I toss my shit onto the floor, feeling the weariness of travel wash over me. It’s nice to be in a comfortable, homey space again.
“I’m not so sure anyone really wants to loveme,” I say, finally answering Miles’ question. “But I’m not as against it as I was in the past. I don’t know. It’s complicated. I’m really fucked up, Miles.”
Miles freezes, turning to face me. “Don’t say that.”
I shrug. “It’s true. A lot of shit happened when I was a kid that fucked me up.”
Miles opens his mouth so say something before snapping his mouth shut again. He processes what I’ve said. “That’s not your fault, Miles.”
“It’s not and I know that a lot better now. That doesn’t mean it didn’t happen and it certainly doesn’t mean I’m not dealing with the fallout still to this day.”
Miles’ eyes dart between my own. “Jesus, you really have changed.”
I rub the back of my neck, staring down at my feet. All of those insecurities and hurts threaten to choke me all over again. I’m allowed to let people in. I’m allowed to let Miles in. Out of everyone, he’s the one person I’ve let in. He loves me. I repeat this over and over in my head, desperately working on believing it.
“Hopefully for the better,” I finally say. “I know I’ve never talked about it but my childhood was kinda fucked up. My parents were gone all the time.”
“Fuck,” Miles breathes out.
“Yeah. Umm, substance abuse. I stayed with my grandmother but she died. And then I hopped couches. Eventually I just got a place of my own. Told everyone I was eighteen, got a fake ID. It really screwed up my outlook on life for a really long time.”
“Jesus, Christian.” Miles pulls me into a fierce hug. I return it despite the way it’s making me uncomfortable. Telling people makes me feel like they pity me, or maybe they’ll think I should have gotten over it by now. If Miles thought that, I think it would break me.
“I’m really sorry you had to go through that.”
“Thanks,” I say, finally pulling back. “I just.” I swallow. “Everyone in my life has left me. Always. You were the first person to stick around.”
“I’m here to stay, for as long as you’ll have me. You’re my best friend and I love you.”
“Love you too,” I say, looking up at the ceiling. I feel flayed open and exposed in the worst possible way. It’s so gross, the way I have to heal and make myself better based on things that were completely out of my control. “Okay, way too mushy. I feel icky.”
Miles bursts out laughing and I can’t help but mirror his smile. I curl my legs onto the couch, getting comfy.
“Fill me in,” I say. “I want to hear all the piping hot tea.”
“Oh umm, notthatmuch? I guess?”
“Is that a question or a statement?”
“It’s a statement?”
I turn fully on the couch so I can face my best friend. I watch his face closely. He can’t seem to look at me and he looks guilty as hell. What’s going on? Why is he lying to me?
“What’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?”
“I have no idea what you mean, Christian!”
“I know you, Miles. You’re lying. What are you lying about?”
“I don’t like that you can see right through me,” Miles says with a grumble. “Something happened. I don’t really know how to tell you.”
“Okay,” I say slowly. My stomach is a mess of nerves as my mind comes up with the worst possible scenarios. Did someone fucking die? Did another alien race show up? Are we being evicted from our homes? What the hell is going on?
“It’s about your house,” Miles says slowly. “Someone moved in while you were gone.”
“Oh,” I breathe out. “Okay. That’s not the worst news, I guess. I thought you were about to tell me we were in active war with another alien race and you and I were going to be forced to become warriors.”
“What?”
