Crying Out Silent Read online

  I’d lost both my virginity and the guy I loved.

  5

  ASH RATA

  Ash can’t fuck!

  Those words still rung in my head, playing on a continuous loop, what Jenna had said utterly humiliating me. Everyone was staring at me, making me feel so tiny. I hadn’t meant to hurt her. I’d thought I was supposed to push inside of her like that, and why wouldn’t I think that? No one had told me that my dick could hurt a chick. Joel had never said a word about it happening to him, and in the pornos chicks loved it, which meant that Jenna was right: I was useless at fucking.

  Joel sat down next to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Ignore her, mate. She’s a total bitch. You’re better off without her.”

  Ant sniggered. “Or she’s better off without you, Useless-at-Sex.”

  “Shut it!” Joel snapped at Ant. “It’ll be her fault, not Ash’s. He should never have gone out with that virgin cunt.”

  Pissed he’d called Jenna that, I stood up and walked away from him before I said something I shouldn’t.

  He jumped up and followed me. “Honestly, Ash, you’re better off without her.”

  “Just leave me alone,” I said, feeling totally humiliated. People were still staring at me, some even sniggering. Joel snapped at one of them, threatening to punch the guy’s face in.

  Not wanting him defending me, I took off, knowing I didn’t deserve it, not even one bit. I sprinted across the field, Joel no match to keep up with me. I glanced back at him. He’d already given up. My cousin was too slow, not to mention unfit, the amount of weed he smoked partially the cause. I scaled the school’s back fence and jumped over it, spotting Llewellyn Davies sitting behind the factory, eating his lunch. The small redheaded kid looked up at me with a surprised expression.

  I slumped down next to the fence. “Stop staring at me!” I snapped.

  He instantly dropped his head, causing a curtain of orange hair to cover his face. He looked so much like a girl it was unreal, if anything, he was prettier than most of the girls in my class, only Jenna and Tiana prettier. He peeked up at me through his curtain of hair, his stunning hazel-green eyes dispelling that thought instantly, because in that moment, he wasn’t pretty, he was beautiful, even Jenna and Tiana not that good-looking. Pity for him he wasn’t a chick, because he would’ve had loads of guys after him, even me, but I wasn’t into dick, the thought grossing me out.

  “Sorry,” he said, so softly I almost missed it.

  I exhaled, feeling bad for snapping at him. Even though I didn’t like his constant stares, he never bothered me. It was only Ant who had a problem with him. I pushed up and went to walk past him.

  “Ash,” he said, in a quiet voice.

  I stopped and turned to him. “What?”

  “Um...” He held out a sandwich. “You want to have lunch with me?”

  “No, I wanna be alone.”

  “Why?”

  “Just do, and why you here?” I asked, wishing he would bugger off. It was my spot, the place I went to when I wanted to get away from school, but was close enough to go back.

  “Hiding from Ant.”

  “Why? He hasn’t done shit to you for ages.” Yeah, Ant insulted Llewellyn every so often, but he’d stopped going near him.

  “He still scares me,” Llewellyn replied.

  “Your fault for perving at his cock.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Whatever.” Not interested in his lies, I headed off, stopping as I heard a sob behind me. I turned back again. The guy was covering his face with his hands. “Why you crying?”

  “I’m not,” he said behind his hands.

  “Stop lying, cos it’s obvious.”

  He wiped his face, which was all splotchy, his pale skin going red in patches. “I didn’t do anything to Ant, he’s the one who stares at me.”

  “Like you stare at me?”

  His face dropped. “I don’t stare.”

  “Yes, you do. So quit it, and quit crying too. You look like a blubbering pussy.”

  I turned the corner, what I’d said instantly making me feel worse. I hadn’t meant to make him cry, like I hadn’t meant to make Jenna cry. I wiped my face, feeling like crying myself. Llewellyn wasn’t the pussy, I was. He may be hiding, but I was the one running away.

  I started running again, sprinting towards home, proving what a pussy I was. Before I knew it, I was opening my front door, finding my stepdad in the sitting room vacuuming. The guy was built like a construction worker, about six-foot-two, and with sandy-coloured hair. He looked up in surprise, probably not expecting anyone home so early. He’d been made redundant from his job, so had taken over the household chores, which was bad for my family, since we could barely pay the rent let alone other shit. I hadn’t lied to Jenna, because our phone had been cut off. Still, I could’ve gone to a neighbour’s to call her, or even have gone back to her house. I just couldn’t make myself, what had happened so bad. I was scared she’d yell at me, tell me I was a loser, and that she never wanted to see me again, which basically was what she’d done, so I was right.

  My stepdad turned off the vacuum cleaner. “Why are you home, Ash?”

  I took off to my room, not wanting to talk about it. Feeling like a total loser, I slammed my bedroom door shut and flung myself onto the bed. I’d wanted to have sex for so long, been aching to fuck Jenna, but now, I wished she’d never asked, because it had been like everything else in my life.

  Fucked up.

  The door opened, followed by my stepdad’s voice. “What’s wrong, Ash?”

  I shook my head, not wanting to tell him. Instead, I wanted to scream at him to get out of my room, but didn’t want to show my face. I felt the bed go down and a hand land on my back. He repeated the question.

  “Just leave,” I said into my pillow.

  “It might help to talk about it,” he replied.

  “It won’t change what a fuck-up I am.”

  “You’re not a fuck-up, you’re the nicest boy I know.”

  I turned around at his words. My stepdad was looking down at me with a concerned expression. I didn’t understand why he thought I was so nice. Maybe it was because he didn’t know me well enough. He’d only recently gotten married to my mum, their relationship progressing so fast that it made my head spin. My uncle had said it was because my mum had latched onto the first man who treated her well, unlike my father, who’d been an utter bastard to her. My father was still in prison for bashing her and hurting me, his addiction to meth having turned him into a monster. He was getting out later this year, something I was scared of. I wanted him to stay in there forever, because, for the first time in a long time, I could sleep at night.

  “Ash?” my stepdad said. “You gonna say anything?”

  “I’m a screw up.”

  “No, you’re not. C’mon, get up. We can have a beer while you tell me what happened.”

  “Mum said I wuzn’t allowed to drink beer.”

  “She won’t know if you don’t tell her, and it’ll be good to talk over a can or two. Might make you feel better.”

  “I still can’t tell you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Cos it’s humiliating.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Nuthin’!” I barked at him.

  He jolted. “Calm down, boy.”

  I turned around and planted my face into the pillow again.

  “Did something happen at rugby?”

  I shook my head.

  “Did that Maths teacher upset you again?”

  I shook my head.

  “A girl?”

  I remained still.

  “Oh, so it’s that kinda problem. Is it to do with that pinky-blonde-haired girl?”

  I nodded.

  “Have you two split up?”

  I nodded. After what had happened there was no doubt in my mind that Jenna and I were over, which upset me even more because I liked her a lot. She was a bit rough at times, often giving me a har
d punch on the arm if she didn’t like something I said or did, but I still liked her. And all her talk about Tiana wasn’t true. Although I thought Tiana was even hotter, I wouldn’t have dropped Jenna for her, especially since I didn’t think Tiana would be interested in me. She was the typical good girl, who did everything right, while I did everything wrong. Plus, she was always giggling around me, like she thought I was a joke. It was probably because I was dumb at maths, that fucking arsehole of a teacher telling everyone I’d only gotten ten percent on my test.

  Chaz patted my head like I was a dog. “Just go away,” I said, shaking his hand off.

  “C’mon, Ash, forget about Jenna, you’re better off without that nasty little tramp.”

  I wanted to defend Jenna, but remained quiet, just praying that Chaz would leave before I yelled at him again.

  He sighed. “Okay, I’ll leave you be.” He got off the bed and left the room.

  As the door closed, I sat up and kicked my boots off, my thoughts going to what Ant had said—that Jenna was better off without me. He was right. Everyone was better off without me. First I’d hurt Jenna, then I’d upset Llewellyn, making the li’l dude cry. Was I a nasty arsehole like my father, someone who picked on people smaller than themselves? I didn’t think I was like that, but Jenna’s angry face and Llewellyn’s tears were stuck smack-bang in the middle of my head. I glanced down at my crooked pinkie that my father had broken, not wanting to be like him. I looked up at the mirror, promising I wouldn’t hurt anyone smaller than me—ever again.

  6

  LLEWELLYN

  I stayed seated for ages, just crying for no reason, other than the boy I liked had been mean to me. But he’d looked upset when he’d jumped over the fence, so it probably wasn’t to do with me. Who was I kidding?! Ash still didn’t like me, and never would, no matter how much I wanted him to.

  I pushed to my feet, not caring that I’d missed a whole lesson. I opened the gate that Ash had ignored and headed onto the school grounds, crossing the rugby field. The grounds were quiet, everyone probably in class. I entered the Maths wing and headed for the toilets, not to hide, but because I needed to go. As soon as I entered it, I stopped in my tracks, finding Ant standing alone at the urinals, pissing. I should have turned around, gotten the hell out of there, but I froze, the memory of the previous time we’d been alone in the toilets coming back.

  He finished what he was doing and turned, jumping at the sight of me. Then a slow smile crept across his face, making me snap out of my frozen state. I went to leave, but he rushed me, slamming a hand against the door over my head, making sure I couldn’t get out.

  “Let me out!” I yelled, trying to get the door open.

  He grabbed me and spun me around, covering my mouth with a large hand. “You were perving at me, weren’t you?”

  I shook my head rapidly, not believing this was happening again.

  “Don’t be scared,” he said. “You can admit it; I won’t hit you.”

  “I wasn’t perving!” I shouted into his hand.

  He cocked his head to the side. “I don’t mind if you were, you can look and touch all you want.”

  I stared at him in shock.

  He laughed. “You look so sweet when your eyes go big, and I promise I won’t hurt ya. I felt bad ’bout the last time.” He let go of my mouth, then ran a finger down my nose. “Your freckles are so cute. Are they on your body too?”

  “What?” I said dumbly, the word the only thing I could get out.

  He took hold of my arm. “You got freckles here, but do ya have them on your stomach?”

  I looked down at his hand on my arm, wanting to pull away. “No.”

  He let go and grabbed my shirt, causing me to press my back against the door.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Just seein’ if you’re lying or not.” He lifted my shirt, his gaze locked onto my stomach. He ran a hand over it. “You have no hair on your body. How come you have no hair?”

  I kept quiet, wishing he would stop touching me.

  “Doesn’t matter, I like it.” He let go of my shirt and looked up. “What are you doin’ after school?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You wanna come home with me?”

  “I can’t,” I said, definitely not wanting to.

  He frowned. “Why not?”

  “I got chores,” I lied.

  “You just said you had nuthin’ on.”

  “I forgot.”

  “Then, they can wait for later. I’ve got some really cool games, PlayStation ones. You’ll like ’em.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Oh, c’mon,” he said. “It’ll be cool, plus I can show you my cello. I saw you playin’ classical music the other day, so I thought you might like it.”

  “I didn’t see you at Music,” I said, not believing him, the guy rough. No way would he know how to play a cello.

  “I’m in a gifted programme, and I wuz just passing by. You looked so wrapped up in the piece you were playin’ you pro’bly didn’t notice me watching. You were playin’ Vivaldi on the electric guitar, totally shredding it. It wuz amazing.”

  I gaped, shocked he’d watched me, let alone knew who Vivaldi was.

  “I play at national level,” he said.

  I remained silent.

  “You don’t believe me, do ya?”

  “It’s no-not that,” I stuttered, wishing he’d just let me leave.

  “Bull, and I’ll prove I can play. Come to my class after your next lesson and I’ll show ya.” He rolled his eyes when I remained silent. “Okay, I’m sorry for what I did to you, so just say yes, then when you see I’m telling the truth you can come to my house.”

  “No, you scare me,” I blurted out, not knowing why I’d admitted that, other than I didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

  “Oh.” He frowned. “Can’t blame ya for that, but I won’t hurt ya this time. I promise. I like you.”

  I shook my head. “But, you can’t like me.”

  “Why not?”

  “You punched and kicked me, and you call me names.”

  “I didn’t wanna, I wuz just saving face with my mates. I don’t normally go round punching guys I like, I just panicked. Joel’s a homophobic shithead, and I didn’t want him knowing I’m gay.”

  “You’re gay?” I said, although I shouldn’t have been surprised, considering he’d kissed me. But my brain wasn’t working, the only instruction it was giving me was to shake.

  He smiled. “Straight guys don’t go round kissing dudes.”

  “But Kelley’s your girlfriend.”

  “She’s a beard.”

  “A what?”

  “A cover.”

  “You still had sex with her.”

  “I wuz horny and she wuz willing, and I wuzn’t thinking ’bout her when I banged her arse.” He smiled, his eyes running up and down me, telling me who he’d been thinking of.

  I coughed, feeling even more nervous now. “But, you’re big and on the rugby team,” I said, trying to find any excuse as to why he couldn’t… shouldn’t be gay.

  “So?”

  “You don’t look gay.”

  “You do, though,” he laughed.

  “I like girls,” I snapped, now angry.

  “Only for advice on clothes.” He smirked. “And no straight guy would’ve returned my kiss.”

  I went to say I didn’t return it, but he cut me off.

  “You don’t needa be embarrassed, there’s nuthin’ wrong with liking my kiss. Plus, why wouldn’t ya?” He smirked. “I’m a great kisser.”

  I didn’t reply, not wanting to insult him.

  “So, will ya come watch me play cello?”

  I nodded, hoping it would appease him, plus I figured it was safe enough since it was at school, because there was no way I was going home with him.

  “And come to my house to play games?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I told you, I’ve got chores.”
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  “And I told ja they can wait, which means that as long as I prove I can play the cello you hafta come home with me.” He grabbed my hand. “Deal.”

  I watched him shake my hand, again thinking that this couldn’t be happening. He let go and held up his hand, which I stared at, not knowing what he wanted me to do.

  He laughed. “Slap my hand.”

  I did, eliciting a “Cool” from him, then he patted my shoulder. “I’ve gotta go now. Come to the small music room in fifty minutes. I’ll play a Bach piece for you.”

  I nodded and moved out of his way, still not understanding how this rough guy knew who the classical musicians were. He disappeared through the doorway, making me wonder whether this was a good or bad thing, or whether I’d hallucinated it all.

  I went to the toilet, then my next lesson, getting told off for being late, but I didn’t care, because all I could think about was whether Ant was telling the truth about being able to play the cello. After the lesson, I walked slowly towards the small music room, my brain fighting with my legs, trying to talk me out of going. But I figured if I didn’t show up Ant would be angry, which would in turn make my life a lot harder. It would also have been rude not to go, and anyway, I liked string instruments and was curious whether he could actually play, let alone at national level.

  I closed the music room door behind me, the walls soundproof, which meant I’d missed the beginning. Ant was seated on a stool, playing in front of the music teacher, Mr. Grey instructing him. But as far as I could tell Ant didn’t need his advice, what he was playing was absolutely beautiful. And he didn’t appear to be listening to the teacher. Instead, he was lost in his own world as he moved that bow across the strings, the guy a contradiction between rough and cultured. I sat down on a chair by the door, totally enraptured. I loved classical music; it was what I preferred to play on my guitars, especially the electric one. It just enthralled me, totally took over me, its beauty beyond description, even better than when I lost myself in heavy metal.

  Once Ant had finished the piece, a tune I definitely recognised as Bach’s, he looked up, jerking in surprise when he saw me, which confirmed how wrapped up in the music he’d been. A smile spread across his face, something I was finding to be his most defining feature, the curves of his lips easily moving between cruel and endearing. He looked up at the teacher as though waiting for instruction, but instead the man turned to me with a raised grey eyebrow. He was my teacher too, Mr. Grey’s hair the same colour as his name. He was a slim man, with what everyone called a pretty-boy face, although he was far from a boy, since he looked in his forties.