Broken Toys

Chapter 2

Casey never thought of himself as someone who hated birthdays, but after today he might just change his mind.

It might not have been so bad if mid-term break wasn't starting in a few days. All of his teachers were reviewing rather than covering new material and Casey already had straight A's. He'd practically memorized his notes for the upcoming exams. There was nothing left to distract him.

He could take some pictures, but he was down to his last roll of film and had no money to buy more or develop all the film he'd already used. He couldn't get used to the fact that there was no darkroom at this school, the one place he'd always considered a refuge.

He was tired of all his cds and had already read all of his books. It was too late to go to the library and he didn't really feel like reading anyway.

Restlessly he wandered the room, randomly picking up scattered clothes and debris more for something to do than because he wanted to clean. Snatches of the phone conversation he'd had with his mother last night replayed in his head.

"Your father and I think it's for the best, Casey."

"We're taking a little vacation."

"You can use the time to study."

It didn't matter what he'd said, the decision had been made before she'd called. They didn't want him home for mid-term break and they were taking a vacation to avoid him. Hawaii. The one place his father swore he would never go.

So they got a week in paradise and he got this. Angrily he kicked at a stack of Billy's dirty clothes.

He wanted to be angry, to stay angry. It was easier that way. It kept him from thinking too much; wondering what he'd done to deserve exile and abandonment. Wondering what would happen in a few months when he graduated from this place. Thinking that he'd never be welcome at home again. Deciding that he must be an awful person to not even deserve a birthday. Because...because if no one remembered, or cared enough to call or send a card or anything, wasn't that the same as not having a birthday at all?

The anger faltered and tears pressed against his eyes. He wiped them away with harsh movements, refusing to give in to such weakness. It was weakness that caused him to be exiled to this place to begin with. Life wasn't perfect in Ohio, but at least he had...

He stopped cold, laughter catching in this throat and almost choking him.

Zeke

Sometimes he marveled at his brain. Truly it was amazing the lengths to which it would go to allow such self-deception. He didn't have Zeke. He didn't have anyone. What difference did it make if he couldn't go home? There was nothing for him there. Better to start new here, to try for something more than the pathetic, downtrodden life he'd lived until a few months ago.

So what if his parents forgot his birthday. So what if there was no card, or phone call, or present. So what if he was reduced to borrowing and begging supplies because they forgot to send him the paltry $10 this month to buy soap and toothpaste and shampoo.

So what.

The moment of resolve faded and he looked up at the clock and sighed. Too early for bed, too late to go to town. And he didn't have any money anyway. Irritated, he walked to his desk and slammed his textbook closed, dropping it on the floor with the rest. He threw himself down on the bed, glowering at the ceiling.

If he was this bored now, what would it be like when Billy left for break? Stuck here for a whole week with no one to talk to and nothing to do.

The ring of the telephone startled him and he wondered how long he'd been lying there thinking of nothing. He let it ring a few times, tempted to just ignore it. He was in no mood to play secretary for Billy.

The phone kept ringing. Casey threw the pillow aside and stomped over to pick it up. "Yeah?" he said not caring if he sounded annoyed.

"Casey?"

Recognition sliced through him sending a shiver up his spine.

"Zeke?"

"Yeah. Listen, Case. I just wanted to see how you are. Wish you a Happy Birthday and all that."

"Oh. Thank you." As much as Casey didn't want to talk to Zeke he couldn't stop himself. Just the sound of his voice was enough to warm Casey from head to toe. A glimpse in the mirror proved he had a sappy grin on his face.

"You ok, Case? They treating you ok at that school?" Zeke's voice was like honey on sandpaper, smooth and sweet but rough underneath.

"Um, yeah. Yeah, it's ok. Just." Sentences, Casey, he scolded himself. You can do it.

"You coming home soon?" Was he just imagining the double meaning in that question?

"No, no. My parents think I need to stay here over break and study." He didn't try to hide the bitterness in his voice.

"Is that what you want, Casey?" The absurdity of that question made Casey laugh out loud. Since when did what he wanted matter to anyone? Bitter anger sheared through him and resentment for not being rich like the other kids here; for not having parents who even pretended to give a shit about him.

"What do you care, anyway, Zeke? You're the one that ratted me out. I could be in Canada now, instead of in this place. They don't even have a darkroom here." To his embarrassment, Casey felt tears tightening his throat.

"Do you really believe I betrayed you, Casey? You know how I... Why would I do that to you?" Zeke's voice was softer now, soft and urgent, demanding an answer. If they were in the same room, Casey was sure Zeke would be gripping him by the shoulders, gently shaking him.

"You're the only one who knew where I was going. Who else could have told my parents?" He swallowed hard against the painful memory. "The cops dragged me away in handcuffs. Did you know that, Zeke?"

"I saw the photos, Casey. I'm sorry. But I didn't tell your parents. I would never hurt you like that. Never." Zeke's voice was whisper soft, with a bit of a quaver. Casey could drown in that voice, and for a moment he closed his eyes and just listened. But then he opened his eyes and forced himself to straighten up.

"Zeke. just don't. Look, thanks for the birthday call. You're the only one who remembered. But do me a favor and lose this number. You've got Miss Burke, you don't need me."

"Casey."

Casey hung up gently, whispering goodbye after the handset was back in the cradle. And he thought he couldn't possibly feel any worse today. Stupid stupid.

He paced the room again, finally losing the battle with himself and taking the photo out of its hiding place. It was the only picture he had left of Zeke. He'd destroyed all the others before leaving what he used to call home.

He felt like he was filled with something hard and terrible that was trying to force its way out, pressing painfully against his chest. He rubbed away the moisture in his eyes and curled up on the bed, pulling the covers up around his shoulders. He was so cold.

Zeke in the photograph was smiling. Casey didn't have to close his eyes to remember every detail of that day, when things had seemed perfect and life was something wonderful. But he always closed his eyes against the memories that came after, painful and heartbreaking, inseparable from the good.

If he allowed himself, he could even remember *the* night. Still tweaking on Zeke's chemicals and giddy from relief and victory it had seemed right to hug everyone and laugh with them. But when Zeke gathered him in his arms and they locked gazes, there was jolt, a sudden knowing.

The night was nearly over when the school parking lot was empty and Zeke offered to drive him home. Fifteen minutes later they pulled into the driveway at Zeke's house. Without words Zeke led the way to the kitchen where he poured them both a glass of water. Their hands touched as he handed a glass to Casey. It shattered on the floor, unnoticed, as Zeke's lips closed over Casey's, stealing his breath away with sweetness.

Fingers found cloth and skin, exploring, as tongues twined around and against each other.

It was a short distance to the bedroom but they managed to remove most of their clothing before reaching it. There was no hesitation or fear as Zeke gently uncovered the last bit of Casey's body, running his hands all over his soft skin.

Casey tilted his head back and moaned, the reality so much better than he'd ever imagined. Trying to follow Zeke's lead, Casey knelt to remove the older boy's boxers. On his way back up he couldn't resist the urge to lean in and give him a kiss on that sensitive spot just below the navel.

Zeke gasped and shifted making Casey smile. Standing again he pressed close to Zeke, gasping as Zeke gently touched his face.

"Have you ever?"

"No," Casey admitted shyly.

"We won't do anything you don't want to. Just tell me and we'll stop." He caught Casey's shoulders and made sure the boy was looking directly into his eyes. "I won't hurt you, Casey."

Casey nodded his understanding, sealing his agreement with an open-mouthed kiss.

The bed was unmade, the sheets rumpled but Casey thought it was the most comfortable place he'd ever been. Zeke lay against him, one hand softly caressing. Casey surrendered himself to the feeling allowing Zeke to lead and although there were moments when one of them hesitated, the other always managed to help him through with gentle words or caresses. Even through that eternity of pain into pleasure. The final moment was golden and they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.

The return to bitter reality broke Casey's control and he wept silently into his pillow, the photograph lying, temporarily forgotten on the edge of the bed.

*****

Billy opened the door carefully, not wanting to disturb Casey if he was sleeping or studying. The sight of the smaller boy curled up on the bed, body shaking with grief made him ache.

He understood all too well.

Not letting himself think, he quickly and quietly set aside his books and removed his shoes. Carefully he laid down on the edge of Casey's bed and drew the boy into his embrace.

Casey tried to pull away, opening his mouth to protest, closing it again when it twisted with barely contained sobs.

"It's ok, Casey. It's just me."

Unable to stop, Casey collapsed into the embrace, his back against Billy's chest. He managed to slide over to one side to make more room and felt Billy get more comfortable against him.

"I forgot the lights," Billy whispered, sliding out of bed. Moments later the room was dark and Billy was back. He touched Casey carefully, offering only what comfort the other boy would accept.

"Is this all right?" Billy asked as he shifted into a more comfortable position. Casey mumbled something that Billy took as acceptance.

"You can tell me in the morning if you want to, Casey. And if you want me to leave you alone tonight, any time, just say the word. Understand?"

Again the mumble.

Billy pressed his forehead against the back of Casey's neck and closed his eyes. If Billy let himself imagine, if only for a moment, he might even pretend that this was Joey.

With visions of dead or lost lovers in their minds, the boys slept.

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