He was extremely tired, having been driving since five o'clock that morning. It was a six hour drive to his new home and he really did not like being on the road for that long, but there was nothing he could do to change it. He had no choice in the matter whatsoever.
They started playing the Hell Song by Sum 41 and Travis sang along loud and proud. It was one of his favorites since Seven had really liked Sum 41 and gotten him addicted as well. He wanted to listen to the CD, but it was in boxes with the rest of his CDs in the U-Haul attached to the back of his mom's green 2001 Chevy Impala that he was being forced to drive. He hated it, but got stuck with it by default.
His mother was coincidentally on a business trip in Dallas so Travis was to take everything to the new house. The furniture was in the moving truck and the U-Haul was filled with boxes. He would drive back to the old house, return the U-Haul, pick up the last of the boxes, turn in the house key to the realtor, and return to the new house only to stay there alone for another week and a half when she would return from Dallas. Did this make sense to anyone?
The truck was getting off of the interstate and Travis dutifully followed them. He had accidentally followed them to "trucks only" rest stops several times. They kept making fun of him, but they were pretty cool guys. Well, cool as far as moving guys went, anyway.
They drove along small-town streets for a little while before they turned into a neighborhood and drove leisurely along small neighborhood roads with little kids running along the sidewalks, riding bikes and staring at the truck while playing games and enjoying their adolescent lives. It was a little nauseating.
Finally, the moving truck stopped in front of a house and Travis checked the address and pulled into the driveway. He parked the car and went up to the house. It was completely vacant when he opened the door, totally devoid of everything and he was here to change that all around. It made him feel a little sullied. He went up the stairs and picked out his room. There were three bedrooms other than the master and he chose the one at the front of the house, but in the corner farthest from the garage because there was a tree just below the window. He could effortlessly sneak out whenever he felt the need.
He spent the next few hours directing the moving guys and telling them what furniture went where. It seemed to take forever, but then they finished unloading the truck, even Travis's ever precious motorcycle that he had fixed up with his previous next-door neighbor and the man had let him keep it on discovery of the move. Travis had never been happier in his life. Anyway, after that the movers left and Travis was stuck emptying the U-Haul by himself. There were so many boxes…
It was only 2 in the afternoon and he was totally exhausted. It was then that he found the box that held his computer. He grinned and locked the U-Haul then carried the box into the house and to his room. It was time for a very, very needed break and he really hoped that Seven was on.
~%~
He had woken up at one o'clock in the afternoon, but hadn't gotten out of bed. He had no idea how much time he had spent staring at the ceiling, thinking about what an idiot he was. No one had come to his room yet, attempting to "connect" with him of try to figure why he was "acting out". They were probably wondering whose fault it was. They were wondering what they did wrong. They were blaming themselves.
Seven really didn't want to get out of bed. He didn't want to face them. They might be angry. This might be the last straw. They could handle a ten-year-old that was smarter than they were. They could handle someone so pessimistic that they told people to kill themselves. They could handle someone who thought that Judas wanted Jesus' body. Maybe they couldn't handle a faggot. Maybe that was just too much to handle, too much of a disgrace and they would kick him out. He'd be homeless and forced to live by eating grass. He wouldn't have internet access. He wouldn't be able to talk to Travis.
Forget the grass; he'd rather take a toaster into the bath with him than live a life without any connection with Travis. He got out of bed and went over to his computer, praying to the God he believed existed to laugh at humanity that Travis would be online.
DSL was a beautiful thing. It took less than 2 minutes for Seven to get onto AIM. He felt like crying when Travis' screen name was light gray and italicized. He looked down at the carpet and took a deep breath. He jumped when the little electronic sound of an opening door came from his speakers. There was Travis' screen name, black and bold. The message box popped up instantly.
YLDSHAMAMD: I missed you. I was completely surrounded by stupidity without you.
Seven77: I often have that effect on people. It's my utterly charming disposition. I was about to kill myself without you around.
Travis stopped typing for a second. This wasn't like Seven. It was usually Travis that talked about committing suicide and Seven saying that only morons killed themselves. Seven always seemed to think that suicide was for pathetic people that had no purpose in living in the first place so no one should care if they are dead or not. It was a very rude way of looking at things and had gotten Seven in trouble multiple times.
YLDSHAMAMD: Are you alright? That doesn't sound like something you would say. I'm the suicidal one, remember? You're the one that talks me out of it.
Seven77: The problem with IM is that if I say I'm fine you'll think I'm actually fine when I'm actually very much not. It's harder to trick people into seeing through you're cardboard brick wall this way.
YLDSHAMAMD: What happened? Is there any way I can help?
Seven77: Only if you play the part with the white stallion and shining armor and show up ASAP.
YLDSHAMAMD: I have a red motorcycle and my mom's credit card for a week and a half. Give me the address.
This was the biggest decision of Seven's life. Would he do it? Would he actually show up and take him away from everything? Rescue him like he was a damsel in distress? The biggest thing was, would he get to be with Travis?
He typed in the address without any further hesitation.
~%~
Travis stared at the address on the screen. It was all so simple. Plug directions into map quest and he was done. It was as simple as that. He pulled out his wallet and pulled out an old receipt and started writing the address on the back.
He then stopped in surprise and froze in shock. Then he started feeling like a really, really, REALLY big, COMPLETE idiot.
~%~
Travis had disappeared. Seven kept typing messages and got no reply. It scared him. What if it had been a joke? What if Travis wasn't really coming? What if he was going to be stuck here for the rest of his life and Travis wasn't going to come back ever?
Seven logged off and left his room, going down to the kitchen to get something to eat and inadvertently walking straight into the lion's den. There was his family unit, sitting at the kitchen table as though they had been waiting for him all day.
"Are you ready to sit down and talk to us like a civilized individual?" his mother asked. They were all staring at him and he really didn't like it.
"If I say no can I just get some food and go back to my room?" It was worth a shot.
"Sit," his father said sternly, gesturing to the seat between him and Karen who sat next to his mother. He slowly moved to the chair and sat down. He refused to make eye contact with any of them and just gazed blindly down at the tabletop.
Chad started the inquiries, his voice calm and soft, "What do you mean when you say that you think you are gay?"
That was a stupid question. What did they think he meant; sometimes he had fantasies about furless kittens doing the hula in Alaska?
"I like boys," said Seven, "I think about boys a lot. I think about kissing boys... a lot. I think about touching boys... all of the time. I have dreams about boys. Lots and lots of really, really nice dreams about boys in fact."
Evan was covering his face with his hands. It was obvious that this was probably the last thing in the world that they ever wanted to hear. Seven smirked, enjoying returning the torture that his brothers had given him.
Karen was next, "Have you been... doing anything?"
"The only friend I've ever had lives hundreds of miles away. What makes you think I would be doing something involved with a romantic relationship when I can barely even start a platonic relationship?"
The doorbell rang and everyone turned to stare at the door. His mother got up and went to answer in. The first thing Seven noticed about the person standing at the door was that they were tall, taller than Evan or Chad, which was odd since Seven didn't think there was anyone else in their small town much taller than Evan or Chad.
It took a minute for the recognition to register, but less than a second for Seven to rise into a standing position and knock over his chair. This was way too strange for words to describe.
He moved towards the door with cat-like stealth, but the person still saw him. Then they grinned.
"Hi, Seven," he said with teasing charm. Seven lips moved to form the name of the one standing at the door, but the world started going black and the floor came rushing up to meet him before any sound could come out.
~%~
It took him a few blinks before he recognized his surrounding because it wasn't often that he stared at the ceiling while lying on the couch in the parlor. His eyes slowly moved around, seeing his mother, father, and. Travis.
"Travis?" he asked hazily.
"What up my homie-G?" the brunette above him said with a grin.
Seven blinked at this, "Why are you in my house?"
Travis smirked a little, "I kind of just moved in across the street a few hours ago."
"Mom," Seven said quietly "Is there a very tall guy with brown hair in the room or did I hit my head really hard and become delusional?"
"Well, you were always delusional, sweetie," his mother replied, "But yes, he is actually here."
"And he's saying he moved in across the street, right?"
"Yes, dear. Yes, he did."
Seven sat up slowly and smiled, "What took you so long getting here? You were away from your computer for at least ten minutes before you showed up here," he asked eagerly.
"I was planning out my entrance," Travis replied, sitting on the small sofa next to Seven, "I considered taping my mom's credit card to my head and riding up to your door on my motorcycle, but decided that would be lame. I also considered making a suit of armor out of duct tape and cardboard boxes, but that would've taken too long. Then I thought about just writing 'shining armor' on a T-shirt and wearing it when I came over, but decided against that. By then I just wanted to see you so I walked over here."
Seven's head was spinning with mystification and delight. He blinked repeatedly as he attempted to register all of this information, "So you live here? And you'll be going to my school? And we'll get to hang out and stuff all of the time?"
"Pretty much, yeah," Travis said with a nod. Seven grinned and jumped off of the couch, shouting, "This is the coolest thing to happen to me EVER!!"
Travis laughed and ran through his cheek-bone length brown hair that parted down the middle and covered his eyes next to constantly. It was attractive in a roguish way.
"Have you met my family?" asked Seven to which Travis replied, "Only your mom and dad."
Seven grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the kitchen, "That's my older sister, Karen, and my older brother's Chad and Evan. Guys, this is Travis. Hey, do you want to join us in. eating stuff?"
Travis laughed at this and said, "Actually, I have to get back to unpacking. She-Satan ditched me with this and took off for Dallas. I've got to go back to the old house tomorrow and get the last of our stuff. I have a lot of stuff I have to do before I go."
"I'll help," Seven said immediately. "I have nothing else to do today."
His father cleared his throat and Seven just glanced at him before turning back to Travis, "Nothing really important anyway. It can wait for later. Let me go get dressed and I'll go back with you."
~%~
"Just how tall are you?" Seven asked as they walked across the street. He was tying a navy blue bandana over the crown of his head so it kind of looked like a headband as they walked. He wore a shirt that had once been a short sleeved t-shirt, but he had cut the sleeves in such tiny sliced ringlets that connected so the sleeves extended past his elbows. His pants had once been forest camouflage army pants, but were cut off at the knee and covered in patches that said things like 'Keep Your Country Nice and Clean' and had a picture of a person throwing a swastika into a trash can, a swastika with a red slash over it, and various band symbols like MXPX and the Dropkick Murphy's and others. His shoes were black converse high-tops that had been splattered with red and blue paint. It was a very strange ensemble all together.
"Six foot, seven and a half inches," replied Travis whose outfit was very plain in comparison to his blonde friend's. He wore a black t-shirt that had "Atreyu" written on it in red lettering and large, dark blue jeans with scuffed up Vans occasionally peeking out from under the 45-inch hems.
"Damn you," said Seven. He hated how it seemed like everyone was taller than him.
"My sperm provider was 6'11"," Travis explained. They had gotten to the front door of Travis' house ands he was pulling out the key.
Seven asked, "Why did you bother to lock your door?"
"People don't steal stuff around here?" replied the brunette skeptically. Seven shrugged and said, "Not really."
"Hm," mumbled Travis as he pushed the door open, "This place doesn't seem too bad."
"Wait until school starts," Seven said while walking through the door way, "You've got your jock/bully combos, preps, white trash, pseudo-Goths, and me. That's the entire school. We have six black students in the whole school. I think we might have a "Hispanic" in there, but that might've just been a rumor."
Travis was laughing and locking the door behind him, "It all sounds very thoroughly redneck. I am very glad that I have a proper guide to aid me in my battle against the futility."
"Life is hopeless and pointless and everyone needs to just give up already," joked Seven, "That's what I keep telling people."
"What had you so upset earlier?" Travis asked, "I've never heard you say anything about killing yourself before so I know it was pretty bad."
Seven replied, "I really don't want to talk about it." His voice was soft, but harsh. It scared Travis a little.
"I thought we were friends," said Travis, "Friends talk about shit that bothers them. It's the way it goes."
Sighing, Seven closed his eyes and whispered, "Not now. Maybe I'll tell you some other time. Just not now, ok?"
"Ok," Travis replied, "Whenever you want to talk, just go ahead."