NOTE: This chapter contains explicit, triggering topics. If you are not comfortable with any of the triggers listed at the beginning of this story, this section may not be safe to read. Please go ahead and skip to the next chapter if this may apply to you.

DECEMBER 12, 1997 ; 10:00pm
Last Night

He had been working there for two years, but the ping of bowling pins never ceased to make Des' ears scream at him. Even with the dying down sounds of arcade games and rounds that were coming to a close, Des could not wait to get home. He wouldn't have stayed so long if the job wasn't so close to his house, and if it didn't surprisingly pay so well.

Des' manager had just announced the closing of the bowling alley. Disgruntled families with children who had fallen asleep, groups of teens, and couples who weren't finished with their makeout session were escorted out of the door. The electricity powered down, leaving only the work lights on.

As someone who was in charge of cleaning after the parties that came to play, Des was always the last to leave the building. In order to save money, his manager turned off the cameras overnight. He hadn't decided to do this until he could learn he could trust Des, but something in Des' mind told him to act like they were always on–because if his manager was one thing, it was spontaneous. And he loved spontaneous trust checks.

Being a Thursday, the mess wasn't as bad as it was over the weekend or, even worse, on Fridays. There was clearly a large party at one of the alleys, because there were at least ten plates full of crust and half-eaten pizza. Des shoved the remains in his trash bag. He grabbed his broom and dustpan and started to sweep.

"Hey."

Des practically jumped. He dropped the pieces of pizza onto the ground, his trash can falling with it. He rolled his eyes and turned to the source of the word. Luca Barrett was waving at him, an awkward grin stretched across his lips. His hair was slicked back, and the shirt he was wearing looked exactly like one you would expect to see in a bowling alley. He looked more like an employee than a player. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"So this was what your sister roped you into?"

Luca nodded. "Yep. I didn't know you worked here. I didn't see you."

"You know, it's closing," Des responded, hoping he would take the hint.

"Yeah, it's my sister. She's in the bathroom, she's... having some problems," Luca said, as if to avoid saying the word. "I'm her ride, so I can't really leave without her."

"Ah," responded Des. It was common for customers to find excuses to stay at the alley longer. Periods, throwing up, car trouble, he saw it all the time. He wouldn't be surprised if, in a few minutes, Luca asked for some popcorn "since he's there anyways."

Luca paced and observed the alley surrounding him, even though nothing had changed from the last time he checked. Des did the best he could to avoid Luca's gaze, staring straight at the pile of pizza crumbs acclimating on the floor in front of him. Sure, he considered Luca to be a close acquaintance, not exactly on friendship level yet, but considering that Des was trying to sweep and Luca was tracking dirt when his feet paced the floor, the relationship didn't mean much for Des' annoyance at that moment.

"We have some tampons in the back closet if you need some."

Luca, as if surprised by Des' mention of the "t-word," shook his head and laughed a bit. "No, no, she has one. She's just not feeling good. Probably about to..." Luca threw his hands out to symbolize vomiting. "You know."

Des nodded, eyes still on the pile. He swept it into his dust pan. "I've got trash bags back there too."

"She'll be out in two minutes tops," said Luca. Des had never seen Luca with any hint of nervous energy before, but here he was in front of him, one breath away from sweat dripping down his face. He took a step towards Des. "Need any help?"

"Thanks, man, but I'm good." He looked up to meet his eyes, and made sure to give Luca a smile. Luca smiled back, but clearly wished Des took the offer. In order to cleanse the incredibly awkward atmosphere, Des searched his brain for any non-personal small talk he usually engaged in with customers. "So, did you win?"

"Huh?"

"The game. Did you win the game?"

"Oh." Luca chuckled. "No, my sister won. I was pretty close though. I mean, thirty points is close, right? Not bad?"

"Yeah, not bad, dude," Des lied.

"I guess I'm more of a runner." Luca sat down on a stool by the concession stand, and Des was relieved to finally be able to sweep where his feet had been. "I used to play basketball. Maybe that's where I get it from. The running."

"Aren't you, like, 5'7?"

"Still taller than you."

Des lifted his head and crossed his brows. "Ouch."

Luca laughed. "Plus, I never said I was good at shooting or defense. Just that I could run. I was playing this game, back in eighth grade, and I think every single person in the team touched the ball at least once except me. But, I realized I didn't care about getting the ball. I didn't even really want it. I just liked running. So I quit."

Des nodded, half paying attention to what he was saying. "So what about you?" asked Luca.

Taken off guard, Des stopped sweeping for a moment. "Me?"

"Yeah. What were you like as a kid? Or like, what you used to do?"

Des pondered this. He went back to sweeping. "I kind of did the normal kid stuff. Soccer, swimming, lots of hiking."

"What schools did you go to?"

"Oh, it was a different county. You wouldn't know it."

Luca scooched forward on his stool and held his head in his head toward Des. "Try me."

Des sighed. He made his way towards the snack counter where Luca was sitting and started to work in that area. "Jupiter Middle, before Hunter's Middle, of course. Elementary, shit, I went to so many. Lion was one of them. Brexton was another. And I think Clark... or Clare. Something like that."

"Yeah... you were right. I've never heard of those."

"Told ya."

Luca giggled, looking down at his hands. "I'm glad you transferred to Hunter's."

Des looked up to face Luca, resting his broomstick in his palm. "You are?"

"Yeah." Luca stood up and faced Des. His eyes widened, the stress wrinkles across his skin softening. "I'm really glad."

Des broke eye contact. "You know," Des rushed. "you really should go help your sister."

Luca chuckled a little. "Des." Des felt the light brush of skin against his hand. He looked down, but Luca didn't move his hand away. "My sister, she uh, left with her friends."

Des stared Luca in the eye. For once, Luca didn't look away or change the subject. Des had expected for the whole thing to be a lie, but not for this reason. They barely even knew each other. Talked sometimes during track practice, sure, but they were practically strangers. He held his breath. "Des-" Luca started.

"I should really get back to-"

Luca gripped Des' hand and pulled him in, pushing his lips into his. Des' eyes closed from shock. It took a few moments of contact for Des to realize what was happening. He removed his hand from Luca's and shoved his chest.

"Whoa. Whoa. Luca, look, you're cool, but I don't feel that way about you."

"It's okay, Des," Luca took another step forward. Des flinched. "I'm like you."

Des inhaled sharply. Luca and him were next to each other in the locker room. He wasn't like him. And besides, he wouldn't even know about Des. It wasn't possible.

"I don't know what you mean," answered Des.

Luca paused, as if gathering the courage to speak. Des wasn't sure what courage he could be gathering, since it must have all come out when he kissed him. "I like you, Des." Des remained silent, clutching the broom in his hand. "Track has been hell." He laughed. "I try to focus on running or whatever, but you always have to show up and look, well, like you. You know, you're just so, so perfect. And I can't talk to you for shit. I don't know how you do it." He paused, smiling. "I'm sorry for coming on strong. I just knew you were scared."

Des cleared his throat finally. "I think you should leave."

"I know that you're scared of people finding out–I am too–but nobody's going to find out. I promise."

He wanted to walk to the other side of the room, to guide him, or even push him out, but he was completely still. "Luca. I'm closing. You have to leave," he said with as much strength as he could muster.

"The cameras are off. It's okay. It's just us two." Luca came closer to Des so his breath lightly touched his face. He raised a hand to his cheek. He whispered, "Nobody has to know."

Before Des could let another word out, Luca's mouth was on Des' again. Des let go of the broomstick, and it smashed against the floor. Luca pinned Des' arms onto the counter, releasing from the kiss only to go in for another. Des struggled against his hand's grip, but to no avail. Panic seeped through his skin and up to his heart, then to his head that anxiously tried to dodge contact with Luca's. He fought to speak, to tell Luca to let him go, or just to say anything at all, but between the suction between their lips and his vocal chords refusing to cooperate, he didn't let out a word. The only sounds that escaped his mouth were groans of discomfort.

Luca's hand slid up Des' side. His heart pounded so hard that that intensity alone should have shoved Luca away. Luca's hands made contact with Des' shirt, the slight feeling of a second layer hitting his nerves. It continued to slide, and Des did everything in his power to shove Luca away. Des was stronger than Luca by a landslide. But it was as if there was a piano hanging by a string over his head, and if he moved or said anything, the string would loosen. And in that moment, he felt a hundred pounds and two feet smaller.

"Stop," he managed to get out. "I'm not-"

Luca's kiss silenced him. His hand made its way up to the place Des was dreading for him to find. He released Des from his lips. Des stared at him, unable to move. Luca's hand was gripped on a piece of stretchy fabric under Des' shirt. He pulled away from Des, a look of confusion and mistrust plastered on his face. "What is this?"

"Get away from me," whispered Des.

Luca let go, but stayed at the same distance. It was as if his feet were planted in cement. "Des, you're-"

"Fuck off."

"You're a gi-"

"Fuck off!"

The grip on Des' arm vanished. Luca flung back from where he was standing, face too filled with shock to explain the situation at all. He coughed once, then twice. The third time resulted in a pool of blood in front of his feet.

Luca collapsed to the ground, as if somebody had hit him over the head. A "snap" sound filled the air, and before Des could process what was happening, a large hole was forced into Luca's head.

The impact caused a volcano of blood to shoot out from his skull. His eyes bulged out of his head, the same green eyes that had shot down Des' now filling up with a bright shade of red. His mouth that had previously formed into a pucker was wide open from the two halves of his jaw disconnecting. His entire head split from the hit, skin peeling all the way down to his ears. His penetrated head slammed against the hard tile, the vibration hitting Des' feet.

Des blinked, and suddenly, in Luca's head was a long skewer of wood–at the very top, was the end of the broomstick that Des was using. And his once white uniform displayed splatters of crimson blood, from his hair to his white high tops.

Des attempted to catch his breath, but instead of letting out air, he turned to the side and threw up his insides. 

---

Author's Note

National SA Hotline (US) : 1-800-656-HOPE(4673)

Other resources, international and sorted by region: https://ibiblio.org/rcip/internl.html

You are strong. You are loved. I am so proud of you.

-Nicholas