Chereads / Devil’s_Eye / Chapter 29 - Chapter 29

Chapter 29 - Chapter 29

5' 3"

"How long are you planning to be mad?" Ethan had no idea how he was supposed to behave with a person he cared about, especially when the person was angry with him. Audrey had been mad at Thomson for years, and he still didn't fix that problem, no matter how hard he tried. He was begging for forgiveness; he was making promises, and he was ready to do what he had promised. He was trying to barter; he was arguing with her; he was expressing his emotions so openly, like he had never done with anyone before. His sister was adamant. It seemed there was no way he could deserve forgiveness. He could only hope that it would be easier to understand Morgan than his sister, even though the chances were close to zero. At least, Ethan and Audrey shared some character traits, which could help to predict each other's reactions to the same situation, at least partly. Morgan was worlds apart from them, no matter whether it was about his emotions or general mindset. He was thin-skinned but at the same time open-hearted. He was soft but had a stiff character. He was vulnerable, but he never refused to help the others. And he was extremely right and principled. Of course, Ethan was fascinated by all of these Noah's character traits, and he was, well, attracted to them. There was no need to deny it. However, they also irritated Ethan a bit. Especially the last ones. Do you live under the rock, Morgan? This world is full of shit, and people who live here are also full of shit. Ethan felt that way about it. Noah was the opposite. 

Morgan flinched and turned around to look at the car that had been slowly following angry Noah for some time already. He still looked up tight, even though Ethan had given him a break from himself for a good ten minutes. It was a short period of time for a stranger and awfully long for Thomson, who was short-tempered when the matter was about someone from his personal circle. Ethan tried to ask the question like he didn't make a big deal out of it, so that Morgan wouldn't understand how nervous he actually was. Thomson could easily handle fights, conflicts and scandals with anyone besides…family. In that case, irrational anxiety that the person would give up on him hit him hard. He was afraid that the person would turn their back on him, just like Audrey did. 

Ethan didn't choose the best behavior strategy, but not because he wanted to offend Noah or make him think he wasn't important. He was afraid to demonstrate the level of addiction to Morgan, even though that addiction felt almost unbearable. That irritating feeling caused mixed thoughts. However, Ethan would never show it to him. 

"I'm not planning anything," Noah said and continued his walk to nowhere. 

"How about changing your location?" Would you like to be mad at me in the car?" Ethan suggested. 

"I'm not mad at you!" Morgan said and ruffled his hair in a funny way.

"Then why are you yelling?" Ethan asked, looking at Noah's blue-green, washed out, curly ends falling back on his shaved back of the head. It looked cute. 

"I'm not yelling! I…I… I'm letting negative emotions out into the atmosphere, hoping these emissions won't contribute to global warming!" 

"Go ahead and do your global warming here, in the car. I'll turn the A/C on." 

"Ethan, is it a joke to you?" 

Maybe just a tiny one.

"I have no idea what you want from me," Thomson replied honestly. "I'll find out if you tell me straight." 

"I don't know!" Noah got angry and made a funny, helpless gesture. At the moment he looked like an angry kitten that was mad that someone had taken his toy away, and due to this reason the kitten pushed out its claws while it was being petted. 

"I didn't set any goals and I didn't want you to do anything in particular. I just suddenly needed to go for a walk! Why? I don't know!" 

"Because you're mad. Who can you be mad at if not me? At Scott?" Ethan carried on. 

"At myself!" 

"Why, though? You're our innocent angel," Ethan said and laughed. Noah frowned irritatedly. 

"What do you mean 'our'?" he grunted. 

"My innocent angel," Thomson corrected himself calmly. Noah was about to blush, but the rage was bigger than the other emotions. 

"I'm not an angel, by the way," he said, acting like he didn't care about Ethan's last words. For a moment, Thomson thought that Morgan would say something like, 'I'm not YOUR innocent angel.' It would've been a low blow. Luckily, Morgan thought about something else. "Do you even know how many times I wanted to tell the whole university about every single nasty detail of every person that was getting on my nerves? I would've organized a quiz show on TV where people would've fought for the award 'The worst, dumbest and most pathetic jerk of the year'? Can you imagine how many times I pictured that I would grab someone, push them on the floor and start punching their face with my feet?!" 

"Wow," Ethan drew back his hoodie and blew onto his chest, acting like he was getting hot. "I don't know about the planet, but I'm definitely getting warm in here." 

"Stop clowning around; I'm serious!" Noah exclaimed. 

"Me too," Ethan assured him. "I like when you're mad. You look extremely sexy."

Noah froze. Noah opened his mouth to say something back. Noah closed his mouth. Noah thought about something and frowned. 

"If you're trying to make me feel embarrassed this way, it's not going to work!" Morgan said. So naive. 

"I'm not trying to make you feel embarrassed. I'm just stating the facts. Have you ever noticed that you lower your voice when you get angry? You sound like a phone sex operator. Speaking of which," Ethan made a thoughtful look. "I should call you one day before you go to bed. Or maybe ask you to record a couple of voice messages." 

"Stop it!"

"Why? Don't you want to whisper something erotic into my ear?" Ethan leaned closer to Noah. "Or maybe you want to kick my car again? I bet I would probably get turned on if I didn't want to die at that moment." 

"Jesus! I'm begging you to shut up!" Morgan hissed, his face red like a lobster, and looked around. What if somebody heard them? No. There was no one around.

"I told you you wouldn't make me feel embarrassed," Ethan said in triumph. 

"Because you have no sense of shame whatsoever!" Noah said in an almost desperate tone of voice. 

"When you're right, you're right." 

"No matter how hard you try changing the subject, I won't let you! There are more important things to talk about than… sex," Noah stuttered before saying the last word, but he recollected himself almost immediately. "Don't you want to ask why I never turned my desire for revenge into actions?" 

"Because you're an innocent angel?" Ethan smiled. 

"Because I want to remain a person my grandmother could be proud of! I don't want to stoop to their level, okay?! And I certainly don't want people I care about to do the same! I know it's easier to just go around and insult others. And punch them. But the easiest way isn't always the best! I want to follow my conscience! And I wish you to do the same!" 

"Conscience is a rudimentary organ for a lawyer," Ethan sighed. "I've been trying to get rid of it for ages. Which is ironic, because now I got it back in my life when you showed up." 

"Again… You don't want to take me seriously!" Noah complained. 

"I'm sorry. You're right. In my defense, I can say that you're doing everything you can for my blood to rush down my body from my brain," Ethan pointed at his zipper. 

"What a vulgar person you are!" 

"I'm trying to be fair!" Thomson shrugged his shoulders. "Now, get in the car." 

"I… I think I need to get some fresh air," Morgan said, looking downhearted. His anger was finally gone, leaving a bittersweet aftertaste of despair. 

"Okay. Then we continue walking," Ethan nodded. 

"Are you going to continue following me in your car at a snail's speed like some pedophile creeps after their victim?" Noah asked to clarify. 

"I'm only two years older than you," Ethan reminded. 

"I mean, it looks weird." 

"I don't care how it looks." 

"You could catch up with me without a car." 

"What? Catching up with my short little legs when you have such long ones? Not under any circumstances!" 

"I hope you're joking, right?" 

"Yes, but only now. How about getting in the car? Didn't you change your mind?" 

"After literally five seconds? No. I need some time to think."

"Do I disturb you from thinking?" 

"Of course you do! The only thing I can think about is you when you're around!" Noah rattled, and then he grunted through his teeth helplessly, understanding that he had plumped out a remark again. 

"Oh, I see… There's nothing you can do about it, young, innocent creature, so come to daddy. He's going to teach you all the bad things," Thomson tapped on the passenger seat with his hand. At first, Noah felt astonished, but then he burst into laughter. 

"Ethan, it sounded awful!" he said through laughter. 

"There's so much shit you can do sometimes to make your boyfriend laugh, even if you're not a joker yourself," Ethan sighed, not even trying to look shy after what he had said. 

Finally, Morgan got into the car. 

October's chilly wind was already sometimes blowing in the face; it was the only escape from the neverending heat. The days were getting shorter. The sun in the evenings wasn't burning as much, so finally you could feel some fresh air at dusk. 

"What are we going to do now?" Noah broke the silence halfway from campus to his house. 

"I have an idea, but I don't know if it's possible to realize it," Ethan answered vaguely, even though he knew there was nothing impossible when Duncan Smith took the action. "As far as I know, it's possible to trace the SIM card." 

"I think I saw something like that only in movies," Noah admitted. 

"But it's actually quite possible." 

"Thomson. Ethan Thomson. Dry 'Martini'. Shaken, not stirred," Noah suddenly said with a perfect British accent. Ethan broke out in a sweat. How many surprises did Morgan hide?! British English was another Thomson's weak spot. Sooner or later, Morgan could unwillingly give Ethan a coronary. 

Noah didn't notice Thomson's sudden mood swing and continued casually:

"By any chance, is there a rotary phone hidden in your shoe?" he laughed, hinting at spy movies. 

"No, there isn't. However, I can find one if it turns you on," Ethan smirked, noticing the driver behind blinking his lights, making him either go faster or let him through. Usually Ethan drove so fast it seemed like he was some husband rushing to his wife in labor. However, Ethan didn't want to press on a gas when he was together with Noah. The sooner they would arrive at their destination point, the sooner they would separate. Later, Ethan would need to make himself catch some sleep and not drive to Noah's house early in the morning. It wasn't the easiest task.

Ethan decided to let the driver pass him. 

"I've never noticed you liked dirty talk so much," Noah grunted. 

"The key here is that 'you've never noticed'," Ethan replied. "Besides, impunity sets my hands free. I'm beginning to enjoy it." 

"I thought you weren't interested in sex. because… Well…" 

Ethan sighed heavily, trying to suppress the anger. Clearly, Morgan didn't mean anything offensive, but Ethan felt he had to be embarrassed of the fact that, after everything he had done before, he still hoped for intimacy. As if Thomson didn't deserve it, because he remembered well how it had ended. 

"I'm disgusted by mindless sex with no emotional base. However, I'm not frigid," he explained carefully. "At the rehab, though, it was my fixation. I've read a lot about how I could lower my libido or get rid of it entirely." 

"It didn't work out, did it?" 

"It didn't. Libido can go down because of fatigue, stress, drug intake, or bad sexual experience. It seemed like I got the whole list... But, oops, my body decided to do me a bad favor," Ethan laughed sadly. "There was one guy in my rehabilitation center. It's funny, but I don't even remember his name. He got into rehab because his overprotective mother busted him with a joint. She didn't think of anything better than to send him to the clinic, in the company of people who had done heroin, cocaine and methamphetamine." 

A sudden picture of a cute boy, who was eagerly eating every yogurt Ethan had given him, appeared in Thomson's head. In return, he would tell his same old British jokes. 

"Listen to this!" he told him, looking away from the crossword, which was the only type of entertainment in the center. "Seems that the royal family is almost broke. They're down to maybe two million pounds. Sure thing it happens when no one has worked in your family for the past thousand of years," the boy was laughing at his own jokes. Ethan maybe didn't remember his name, but he remembered his low voice and the sound of his laughter. It was beautiful. 

"You've already told it. Twice," Ethan would notice, still afraid to even think about showing someone his true feelings. That was why he looked like a robot, who was unable to feel emotions and never laughed at the jokes, even though some of them were indeed funny. 

"Oh, really? Then how about this: In order to make ends meet, the Queen thinks of having a garage sale in her backyard to sell some stuff she doesn't need anymore, like Canada." 

"I've heard that one, too." 

"You know all my anecdotes!" 

"Because you were the one who told them." 

The guy always laughed after this phrase. The same dialogue would happen a couple of days later. 

"I had a meltdown after I understood that I wanted to have sex with him. I was taking tranquilizers for a week straight. They were afraid that I'd try to hurt myself. To be honest…I was thinking about it during that time," Ethan forced himself to return to reality. 

"I… I didn't mean to... Well, you don't have to... I'm sorry I say stupid things sometimes," Noah mumbled with a guilty look. 

"I don't think so," Ethan shook his head. "I have nothing to hide from you. You can ask me any questions, and every time I'll answer. And if you don't like something, you can also tell me about it. For example, if you don't feel comfortable when I flirt awkwardly, tell me, and I'll stop." 

"What? No, I didn't say I didn't like that! It's not awkward at all; it's actually…" Noah stopped halfway. "I just don't know what to expect from you." 

"I can understand you in this one, since I also don't know what to expect from you, because I prefer not to expect anything. I'm going to let your every action be a surprise for me. Good or bad, it doesn't matter." 

"Uh… Well, what happened to that boy? Do you still keep in touch?" 

"If we did, I would remember his name, don't you think?" Ethan smirked. "Unfortunately, he was released a month later. I stayed in rehab a lot longer than that." 

So that was how the talk ended. Noah was processing what he had just heard. Ethan decided to focus on the road. Morgan's street looked like home already. In the morning, Thomson was looking at the dawn's sunbeams; now he could enjoy the orange sunset.

"I have to tell you something," Morgan said as soon as the car stopped. Ethan raised his eyebrow skeptically. Considering how worried Noah was saying this phrase, it was probably nothing. "I know you have an Instagram account," quod erat demonstrandum. 

"I never tried to hide it," Ethan shrugged his shoulders. 

"Can I follow you there?" 

"It's up to you. Even though I'm not sure whether your account isn't actually taken by your cats. What?" Ethan asked in response to the surprised look. "You thought I didn't look up your account? Or are you surprised because I'm half-hearted about the pictures of your cats in every possible position? To be honest, I'd prefer the pictures of you in every possible position." 

"Ethan!" 

"You can always tell me to stop." 

"No… I don't really mind," Noah mumbled. 

"Is it going to be our little game then? I'll be saying dirty things, and you'll be getting angry while actually not being uncomfortable?"

"Kind of," Noah mumbled quietly. 

"Should we find a stop-word so that I know when I cross the line?" 

"How did you find my account?" Morgan tried changing the subject awkwardly. It looked like he was ready to die of humiliation. 

"There's a link on your Facebook page. And your Facebook is awfully easy to find. More interesting is, how did you find my account? I haven't had any links posted anywhere for a long time; besides, I deleted my Facebook page. Only some strangers follow my account. Probably some bots." 

"Andrea told me about it. I don't know how she found you, though," Noah shrugged his shoulders. "M-m-m-m… Can we… My mom asked me, and I... Well... " Morgan was so hesitant, as if he was about to propose to Ethan to do some nasty stuff. Unfortunately, there was little hope for it. "Could we take a picture together? With no mask. It's for my mom." 

"Only if we're not standing too close," Ethan stated his conditions. 

"Of course," Noah nodded, but Thomson couldn't unsee a sparkle in his eyes. What was he up to? Maybe he should've said 'no'?" Nonsense. Ethan lost his guard because he was glad that Morgan had told his mother about him and wanted to show him to her. Thomson took a deep breath and held it, took his mask off and leaned to Noah a little so that he could be visible in his front camera. Morgan was trying to do something with his messy hair while extending the hand with a phone in it. However, his hair decided to live its own life. 

"Are you ready?" Noah asked. Ethan nodded. "Three, two, one…" Morgan suddenly moved forward, and Thomson's cheek started burning where he kissed it. He heard a sound imitating the shutter. Ethan quickly moved back from Noah—too quickly, probably, because he hit the back of his head against the car door.

"Are you nuts?!" he hissed, suddenly turning angry. 

"I got it!" Noah announced, instead of apologizing. 

"I told you not to..." Ethan choked on his own disturbance when Morgan showed him the picture. The photo was worth being in some kind of gay drama. Ethan was looking kind of from underneath his eyebrows with one eye shut at Morgan's kiss. The picture was so sweet it could give diabetes. 

"The picture looks stupid," Ethan said with tension in his voice. "Don't do it again." 

"Yes, I'm sorry, I stepped over the line," Morgan agreed, but not really persuasively, still staring at his phone. "It won't happen again." 

The promise was supposed to ease Ethan down, but it just made him angrier. In order not to lose his temper, he started looking for some wipes but didn't find any. He was too off-guard!

"I need to go home," Thomson said, putting all his effort into staying calm and not telling Noah to get the hell out of his car, go straight home and start scrubbing his lips with a sponge and soap. 

"Oh, yes, sorry, I kept you waiting for too long," Noah started bustling after he probably understood what he had done, but it was too late. Morgan took his seatbelt off, grabbed his backpack and jumped out of the car. 

"Hey," Ethan called him when he closed the door. Noah leaned forward to the open window. "Take a shower." 

"I'll dive into bleach," Noah promised with a smile and headed towards the front door. 

"And one more thing..." Ethan probably looked stupid: first he made Noah get out of the car in order to make him come back several times. "S…" Ethan shuttered and hated himself for it immediately. "Send me the picture, okay?" it took him even more effort to say. 

"Sure!" Noah flourished and waved Ethan goodbye. 

As soon as Morgan closed the door behind him, Thomson fetched his phone out and saw already three missed calls from his father. What could be so urgent? 

"Guess what I want to talk to you about?" he heard Michael's cheerful voice, which promised nothing good. Ethan needed a couple of seconds to understand what he was about to say. 

"Oh, no. No. NO! I told you last year I won't go there again!" 

They were talking about a charity event that his father's company organized every year in the middle of October to celebrate the day of founding the company. The richest clients would come to gossip about the main events of the year and make their donations to the fund while sipping expensive champagne and listening to classical music. These donations were later used to pay for those clients who couldn't afford the expenses. Since Ethan was the son of the company's founder, he was supposed to be the first one to enter the event. What was worse, his main responsibility was to communicate with clients' children. Every year Ethan felt like he was chained because he had to think over every word he wanted to say; he wasn't allowed to get into a conflict with anyone, or else it could affect both his father and the company's reputation. It was torture. 

"I won't go there." 

"You'll have to. This is the successful man's son's life!" 

"The successful man can successfully go to hell!" 

"Well, too bad... I thought you'd be interested in taking your boyfriend out to a high society," the father sighed. 

"He has nothing to do there, just like me." 

"Sure, but you're going to miss an opportunity to see him wearing a suit, a white shirt, a tie, and some shiny shoes," his father continued. Ethan froze for a second. His imagination drew him a picture immediately. 

"You're a devil," Thomson said. 

"No. I'm just a lawyer," Michael laughed. "So, can I count on you?" 

"First, I need to ask Morgan. He might refuse. If he does, then I also won't go." 

"Something tells me he's going to be happy to join!" 

Unfortunately,'something' was telling Ethan the same. 

5' 8"-5' 9"

Noah and Scoot agreed to meet nearby Andrea's house around six, but the friend sent him a last-minute text that he was going to be a bit late terribly late. Noah wasn't upset by the fact that he had to wait for him because the weather was great, just as Morgan's mood was. As soon as he sent Ethan their selfie, he received an interesting proposal to attend a real charity event! Noah thought it was cool, even though Ethan had sent him a surprisingly, at least ten lines long, message where he described in every single detail how pathetic that event would be and there was nothing to do there besides dying from boredom. However, just as Morgan thought, Ethan had to attend that event (after all, his father was the person to organize it!), which meant that Noah needed to join him, at least to support Thomson and to prevent his death from boredom. There was only one question Morgan was worried about: what his status at that event would be? How should he introduce himself if somebody asks? Ethan's friend? Or maybe… But Thomson had never announced his orientation. What if Noah's openness does a bad favor? Though, apparently, Ethan didn't care about what the others might think. Then he might get offended if Noah introduces himself as a friend. It was so complicated! If Morgan could, he would go around with a big neon sign saying 'That's my boyfriend' and an arrow pointing at Ethan. Of course, it wasn't nice to brag, but he could always dream about it! 

Noah felt his cheeks burning, so he placed his cold palms, which could only be warm when it was boiling hot outside, on them. Instead of daydreaming, Morgan should've better thought about what kind of suit to buy for this occasion. Thomson said it was a black tie event. 

'It's okay. I still have a suit from my high school graduation ceremony!'

Yes, he still had it, though Noah didn't take one important thing into account. The fact that he had suddenly lost a bunch of pounds during the first summer after high school. Besides, Noah gained several inches of height, too. It wasn't a surprise that, when Morgan tried the suit on, it looked like a potato sack on him. Moreover, the sleeves and the trousers were too short. In the morning, Noah had to persuade his mother to give him some extra money to buy a new suit. She acted like she didn't enjoy it, and, just for a show, she suggested adjusting the old suit first, and then she added, 'Your boyfriend was the one to invite you there, so he should be the one to buy you a freaking suit!' However, she showed some mercy later and promised to help. 

There was another thing Noah was worried about, which wasn't connected neither with the event nor with the suite, or even Ethan. His thought kept coming back to the moment when some girl had bumped into Morgan by the building where they were looking for Chad. Noah didn't tell Ethan about it because he was afraid that he could do something wrong in his spate of anger, and Morgan didn't want to see his new boyfriend in a precinct. He also didn't want him to get into jail or do some community service work. 

'Get away from him,' that was what the girl said. Away from whom? Away from Chad? Was she also involved in this scheme? And what about the girl that had bumped into Noah the day earlier? The same had already happened the week before. Until the brunette spoke to Noah, he always believed those things were just a coincidence. He also thought that it happened so often just because he was probably too clumsy. 

Now he understood that it wasn't just a coincidence. These girls were always different, too. Did all of them try to protect Chad? Why? Were they all involved? But… Why? Noah just couldn't get the real reason. He had been thinking about it for three solid years, and he still couldn't find the answer. In Noah's opinion, they were most likely Matthew's admirers. But still… What did they have to do with Chad, and why were they trying to protect him?! What was the reason? 

Scott was already half an hour late. Noah started rolling heel to toe to kill time, looking at Andrea's house from time to time. The light was on in his friend's room. Soon, somebody turned it on in the corridor as well. The door opened, and Andrea's mom showed up. She put her purse on her shoulder, then said something to a person at the door and went towards the car. The door was shut almost immediately, but Noah could see who that was. It was Andrea. It was definitely her! 

Scott texted that he needed another fifteen minutes, but Noah just couldn't wait any longer. Now he felt like he hadn't believed in Scott's theory that Andrea was lying to them until that moment, but now he saw it was true. Noah felt betrayed. 

What the hell is Andrea doing?! Why's she lying? Why did she disappear the way she did, hiding behind some fake reasons?! Are we even friends? Had Andrea ever told the truth when she was leaving the town? Or had she been lying that whole time?

Andrea's mom drove out of the parking lot, and the second later she was gone. 

Noah texted Scott that he was about to go to the friend's house and headed towards the porch, thinking over thousands of questions. Some melody broke the silence of the house when Morgan rang the doorbell. 

"Wow, what a fast delivery! I should give them a five-star review," he heard someone mumbling. The voice sounded husky, like it usually was when a person had been crying. Noah knew that better than anyone. 

The lock clicked. The door opened, but then someone tried shutting it almost immediately down at Noah's face. It definitely would've happened if Morgan didn't stretch his arm to hold the door. 

"Andrea, what the fuck?" Noah demanded the explanation. 

"Don't look at me!" after Andrea had understood that she couldn't compete with Noah's strength, she stepped away from the door and hid in the shadow of a corridor. Morgan only managed to notice her stained, worn-out pajamas and her unbrushed, dirty hair. "Don't look!" Andrea screamed, hiding her head and hunching herself down. 

"Uh… Andrea, I've come to talk to you. Can you, please, explain what—

"I SAID DON'T LOOK!" the girlfriend screamed and rushed over to the staircase leading to the second floor. Noah understood immediately what she was about to do, so he ran after her to stop the other door that almost shut in front of him. That door led to Andrea's room. His friend was so desperate that she ran over to her bed and hid under the duvet. 

"Andrea, what the hell are you doing?" Noah opened the door quickly and stopped short. He didn't have words to describe what was going on in the room. It wasn't just a mess. It seemed that Noah suddenly ended up in a hobo house after a wealthy home. The floor was completely covered in trash. There were dozens of full trash bags in the corners of the room. There were candy wrappers, empty chocolate bars, and pizza boxes, where you could sometimes see leftover pizza slices covered in mold, apple cores, crumbs, dirty plastic plates, and half-empty bottles of lemonade. The smell of fust, must and foul odor blasted Noah's nose. It was so heavy that Morgan felt dizzy for a moment and was on the verge of having a gag reflex. 

But Noah pulled himself together and entered the room, trying to hold his breath.