Street Dreams by Tama Wise

Author:Tama Wise [Wise, Tama]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781602826908
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
Published: 2012-01-24T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

All the times that Tyson had wondered how it would all turn out, all the times he had played it through in his mind, it had never been like this. The silence that had fallen over the two of them was slowly crushing Tyson like a vise. Under him, it felt as if Marc had stopped breathing. He heard Marc clear his throat, replying at a murmur.

“That’s cool…but I don’t swing that way, my man.”

Tyson felt the overwhelming pain of emotions sweep over him. It had been easy to say after all that. But now that it was said, he wished that he could take it back. Tyson tried to hold back the tears, but they were choking and swallowing him. He did his best to try and get up, despite the weed’s hold on him.

“I’m sorry, bro,” Tyson managed, barely at a choke. It was all he could manage to pull himself from under Marc’s heavy arm. The absence felt worse than anything he had ever felt. He tried to get up from the couch. He didn’t want anyone to see the tears that were ripping him up inside.

“Where you going?”

Tyson didn’t answer, trying to get his things together before he started crying. It was bad enough with the emotions swelling up inside him, more difficult because he was high. Marc did a better job than him of standing up. Everything was swaying around him, threatening to pull him off his feet.

“Tyson, where you going?”

Tyson couldn’t hold back the tears any longer as Marc’s arms came up around him. He tried to pull away. He knew for certain now that Marc wasn’t into guys. Marc wasn’t like him. No one was like him. Tyson felt so incredibly alone as his body was wracked with sobs. Marc was the only reason he was still standing up. Marc held him until it hurt to cry any more.

“Sit down with me, mate. You’re not going anywhere while you stoned,” Marc insisted. Tyson felt him pulling him back down. “Probably knocked the high out of you, anyway.”

“I’m sorry, bro.”

“Nothing to be sorry about, my man.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Quiet, man.”

Marc kept his arms tightly around him, but it didn’t feel the same. Tyson still tried to pull away but Marc wouldn’t let him go. He held Tyson until he stopped fighting, and then until he stopped crying. By the time Tyson was done, he felt sick, like everything had been stripped out of him. Con Psy continued rapping, unapologetic at being a visitor to Tyson’s horrible situation.

“I dunno why shit has to be so hard, bro.”

“That’s just life, my man,” Marc said, still holding on to him. Tyson pulled up, and this time Marc didn’t stop him. Marc’s words stung, even as he qualified them. “You just got to keep strong.”

“I can’t.”

“Then you ain’t going to make it. But you made it this far, so I’m guessing you ain’t the sort to give up easy.”

Tyson wondered how Marc could know anything about being gay. He had nothing but hard feelings inside.

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