Page 11 of Loving Trent
My drunken sleep is interrupted hours later by the shrill of the fire alarm. At first, I’m confused and disoriented, not understanding what’s happening. That is, until I stumble into the living room and open the front door. All the alcohol still pumping through my blood dulls my senses. Throwing the front door open, I sober up pretty quickly at the sight of orange and red flames consuming the hallways. The flames are blocking the elevators as they ignite the walls. My eyes sting as I pan toward the door leading to the stairs, only to find it blocked as well.
A voice inside screams that I have seconds before the flames reach the walls of my apartment. I need to find another way out, or else I’m going to die in here.
The air inside the living room is already thick with smoke. Thankful that I fell asleep fully clothed, I pull my shirt over my mouth, and slam the door shut. My lungs restrict as my heart tries to escape my chest for the second time tonight. Creaks andgroans come from the walls and the floor, which is getting hotter by the second. With the thick smoke surrounding me and the tears in my eyes, my vision is very limited.
My leg hits the corner of the coffee table, and on the way down, I hit my head hard on the warm floor. I’m temporarily blinded by bright lights and pain, but there is no time to lie around. I have to get to the window. It’s my only way to get out, to live.
My lungs burn, needing fresh air. My vision grows darker and darker with every passing second. Finally, my fingers connect with the cool glass of the large picture window that opens up to the fire escape. My whole body is being shaken by fear, and the hard coughs coming from deep inside me. There is a lock at the top of the window, but for the life of me, I can’t find it. Giving up on finding the lock, I plaster my face to the glass and see a small crowd gathering on the street below.
“Help me,” I shout and pound on the glass, hoping someone hears me. “Please help me.” Tears pour out of my eyes, as I suck more smoke into my lungs because there is no more clean air. Sweat pours off me as the flames keep moving closer. Finally, my eyes connect with deep brown eyes as a man looks up at me.
“Please, don’t let me die.” The last thing I see is the man with the brown eyes pushing people away, but he’s too late. My body hits the ground, and everything around me goes dark.
Seven
TRENT
Cape Girardeau is ten hours away from me. Honestly, I could have made it in one day, but I needed the time to wrap my head around the fact that I would be back in my hometown for the first time in twelve years. So, I split the drive into two. The probability of seeing anyone is very low. I’m not planning on spending any time in town, but the fact that Eve, Josiah, Betty, and Shawn are there scares me a little. By the time I start the second half of my drive, closer to evening. I can’t keep the memory of the first time I saw Shawn away.
Cape Girardeau isn’t a huge city that some may find in places like New York or California. Still, it’s big enough that there are multiple Elementary schools. I’ve gone to the same private Christian Elementary school for the past six years, but tomorrow is my first day at our only public middle and high school, which shares one building. Mom and Dad argued over the summer about whether they should send me to public schoolor homeschool me. They didn’t ask me my opinion, but I did not want to be homeschooled. Luckily, Mom won, so I got my wish.
The following day comes quickly, and the butterflies in my stomach go wild as I walk up the sidewalk toward the colossal building. It’s so different from my old school. Bigger. Louder. But I’m excited because there are no longer religion classes, I don’t have to wear a uniform, and there are more students. Maybe now I will have a chance to make friends. I never really fit in with the boys from my old school. We didn’t have anything in common, but I’m hopeful that with more than ten kids in my class, someone will want to be friends with someone like me.
All of my attention is on the brick building and the tickle of anticipation building inside me, so I don’t notice anything going on around me. Especially the older boy riding his skateboard straight toward me. It’s not until I’m lying on the ground, eyes burning, nose tingling as pain races down my arm, that I’m even aware I was in danger.
“Oh, crap. I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there.” The voice washing over me has the hair on my arms standing up, the butterflies erupting again, and a warm, fuzzy feeling settling low in my gut.
Looking up, I’m engulfed by the most intense green eyes I’ve ever seen. The color is what I imagine a lush forest floor is bathed in. The boy has short brown hair, darker than mine, but it looks soft in the morning light. For some strange reason, my fingers tingle to see if it is as soft as it seems. When a smile spreads on his face, my heart stutters to a stop, and that warm, fuzzy feeling turns hot, and something happens in my private area. A twitch, maybe. I don’t know. It’s all new and scares the shit out of me. What the fuck is happening to me?
The boy squats down, bringing his face closer to me. When he speaks, I swear I hear angels singing. “Are you okay?” The fresh mint smell of his breath ghosts over my face and leavesfire in its wake. My tongue sneaks over my bottom lip as if I’m hoping to taste him.
I nod because I’ve suddenly forgotten how to speak. Why can’t I find my voice? “I’m Shawn,” he says, holding a hand out toward me.
My hand shakes as I take his outstretched hand. As soon as my palm touches his, fire lights up my skin, and my heart starts beating again. It beats so loud that it’s all I hear, and my chest aches like my heart is trying to beat through it. “T… Trent,” I stutter, and my face flames again.
Shawn pulls me up but doesn’t let me go. “How’s your arm, man? I’m really sorry if I hurt you.” He pulls my right arm into his hands, and all I can do is stare at him as he raises my shirt sleeve. “Shit, you have scratches on it. Come on, I’ll take you to the nurse so she can check that out.”
I let him pull me into the school, through the halls, and into the nurse’s office. The whole way, electric tingling shoots through my arm, emanating from the place he is touching me. Shawn sits with me as she checks my shoulder out and bandages the minor scrapes. I try really hard not to look at him because I don’t know why my body is reacting like it is. After the nurse finishes, she tells me to get to class, and Shawn once again leads me out of the room.
“T… thank you.”
Shawn lays his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “No problem. I’m the one who hurt you. Well, I’m this way,” he says, pointing over his shoulder toward the hallway that says high school. “See you around, Trent.”
Standing here frozen, my eyes refuse to leave Shawn's back as he walks away. The urge to call him back sits heavily in my chest, but the words die on my tongue. Over the next three months, I spent every morning and afternoon after school looking for him. My eyes never fail to find him walking out ofthe high school building with two boys by his side. Every single time I see him, I want to rush over and talk to him, take him away from those boys, and demand that he spends time with me. Thanks to some sneaky research on the internet and a health class, I’ve come to understand what he does to my body. I'm finally attracted to someone, but he’s a guy, and that isn’t something that I can tell anyone.
The welcome to Cape Girardeau sign brings me out of the memory with my heart pounding behind my chest. Over the years, I never forgot about Shawn or the fact that he awakened my sexuality. God, I spent so much of my time those three months before Josiah found my journal obsessing over him. In all reality, Shawn is why I was sent to Camp Arrow. My whole journal was filled with dreams, feelings, and plans that my mind conjured up because of him. A fifteen-year-old boy who didn’t even pay me a single bit of attention after that day. But I don’t blame him. How can I? No, Josiah and Eve are the only ones that I blame for what happened to me.
When I was at camp, I tried really hard to push thoughts of Shawn away because I didn’t want the torment that I was going through to taint the memory of him. He was a good memory that didn’t need to be tainted by their darkness. There have been plenty of guys that have caught my attention over the years, but I’ve never acted on the lust that filled my veins. Every time I tried to work up the courage, Shawn’s pimple-covered face, mouth filled with metal braces, already deep voice, and the way one look from him would send my body into overdrive, would flit through my mind, killing that lust.
It’s stupid to still be caught up on someone I haven’t seen in twelve years, but it is what it is.
Shaking my head to rid it of thoughts of someone I will never have, I go over my plan a third time. Stop at the first gas station I see. Fill up the tank. Take a piss and then get out of town. Due to my restless night, I slept in this morning, so now the stars are filling the sky as I pull into my hometown. I’m just about to start pumping gas when the scent of burning wood fills the air. I look over my shoulder to the right and see that a building across the road is on fire, and people are rushing out of the front door. My feet hit the pavement as I race toward them.
“Are you okay?” I yell at the young male standing outside with sweat running down his red face.
The small family starts coughing. The father is holding a little girl who is sobbing loudly while the mother comforts a boy at her side. “Yeah. Do you have a phone? I forgot ours inside,” the father says between coughs.
I pull out my cell, unlock it, and pass it to the guy. More people are starting to crowd around us. “Is there anyone else inside?” I ask, panic lacing my words.
