Resist (Sphere of Irony 3)

Prologue

Gavin

Today is the day I’m going to die. Just another random October day in Malibu, chilly at night, hot as hell during the day. Nothing special about it.

I’m tired. So damn tired. And sad. The black hole I’ve been struggling against has sucked me in too far. As much as I’ll miss my mom, my friends, watching the sun set over the Pacific after a day of surfing, this is the only way to stop feeling useless. Feeling like a failure. Feeling like a screw-up. Feeling like a constant disappointment.

To stop feeling anything.

Trembling, I pour the contents of the little amber vial into my open palm. Amazing how such small objects have the power to do such enormous things. Irrevocable things.

I curl my fingers around the pills, squeezing tight. My heart is racing in my chest. Hammering in a last ditch attempt to stop me from giving up. As if it knows I’m about to silence it forever and it’s crying out for mercy.

I walk across the deserted stretch of sand, watching the waves break against the shore. It’s early. Too early for anyone to be walking the beach. The sun hasn’t yet risen above the horizon behind me, only a sliver of light giving the sky an orange glow. The cool sand squishes between my toes when I curl them.

I’ve always loved the ocean. It’s peaceful on the outside, but as they’ve always said, looks can be deceiving. Under those blue-green waves lie torment and fury and the ability to cut a grown man down. Sort of like me, beautiful on the outside—or so people tell me—but inside, I’m a twisted wreck of anguish and self-hatred.

Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to it.

I settle down on the soft sand and close my eyes. A breeze ruffles my shirt. I loved it when the wind would blow through my shaggy blonde hair, drying it in the warm sun, the salt making it stiff. My hand rubs over the top of my buzz cut head and tears prick the back of my eyes.

“You look like a goddamn girl with that hair, Gavin!”

My dad’s words sting like a slap to the face.

“I’ll turn you into a real man if it’s the last thing I do!”

“A fucking fag! My son is not going to be a fucking cocksucking faggot.”

I tried to resist the feelings inside, tried to deny that I was different, but I am who I am and my father hates me for it.

I shake the pills in my hand, then tilt my head back and throw them in my mouth. Swallowing them dry, I lie back on the beach and close my eyes, a trickle of moisture running down my temples.

Sorry dad. I guess you’ll never get the chance to turn me into a real man.

Chapter 1

Gavin

“C’mon Gav. I’m bored. Let’s do something.”

I see Hawke moving out of the corner of my eye, all fidgety and restless. Nothing new there.

“Hawke, I’m not in the mood, all right?”