Jake C. Wallace: Wednesday Briefs

Enjoy installment #2 of Owen's story (yet to be named). This week the prompt I chose to use was "You know what I want." After you read this, mosey on over and check out the other authors flashing this week. Enjoy.

Owen fought the crowd streaming into the car show as he followed Wayne into the parking lot. Just when things had become interesting, Wayne had to go all protective older cousin on his ass. Owen wasn’t five, and he could take care of himself just fine. Thinking about Wayne’s rude, bossy behavior fueled his rage. In the time it took to reach Wayne’s truck, the knot in Owen’s gut was the size of a two-ton rock, his blood pressure had reached critical levels, and red coated his vision. He was so ready for a fight.

Climbing into the passenger seat, Owen slammed the steel door as a hard as he could. Outside Wayne stood with his back to Owen, mumbling something into his phone. Owen tapped his knuckle on the dash, his leg bounced, jaw twitched. He was tired of other people running his life, treating him as if he were made of fucking glass. Two years had passed. Two years and they still made him feel weak and helpless. Even the move hadn’t convinced them he could make his own decisions and run his own life.

Finally, Wayne climbed into the cab and pulled out his keys. The truck sputtered and finally cranked over. Wayne backed the truck up without even a glance in Owen’s direction. Owen fumed, knowing Wayne was ignoring him. How could he miss the scowl, the frenetic movements. the friggin’ steam rolling out of Owen’s ears, the—

“Spit it out,” Wayne said, maneuvering the truck through the crowded parking lot.

“What the fuck, Wayne!”

Wayne blinked. “What the fuck what, Owen?”

“Ugh!” Owen bellowed. “Why did you drag me out of there? I was just starting to have a little fun.”

Wayne snorted. “Yeah, I could tell.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Wayne shook his head. “I heard you coughing.”

Owen clenched his jaw. “I sneezed last week. Care to alert the media.”

Wayne’s head snapped around. “You sneezed?” He was dead serious.

Owen buried his face in his hands. Every ounce of frustration and annoyance and weariness bubbled to the surface. Moving here was supposed to be a change, a chance for normal. His parents, relatives, friends, parents of friends, teachers—who hadn’t worried about him for the past fifteen years of his life? That worry was like a layer of suffocating guilt on his skin. And if he had to face one more look of pity he would...Well, he wasn’t sure what he would do, but he could guarantee it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“I get it. People worry about me, but if I ran home every single time I sneezed, I’d be home all the time. And if you recall, you’re the one who dragged me out of my room today.”

“But you have to be careful. Aunt Emily said if you—”

“Pleeeease, don’t listen to my mom. If she could pull it off, I’d be living in a bubble.” Like an exhibit at the zoo behind glass. Look, but don’t touch. “It’s been in remission for two years, Wayne.

“I know but...” Wayne chewed nervously on his lip not doubt contemplating his words as he waited for a stoplight to turn green.

“But it’s come back before,” Owen said, finishing the big ‘but’ on the tip of Wayne’s and everyone else’s tongues. It had come back, three times since his first remission at the age of sixteen. A blood disorder. A rare form of leukemia with one of those long names that required a medical degree just to pronounce. From the beginning, Owen had refused to learn to pronounce its name. Why would he want to be on a first name basis with something trying to kill him? Just never made sense to him.

“Listen. I sneeze and cough, but it doesn’t mean anything is wrong so stop worrying about it. I just really need to move on. Have a life. I’ve spent the last twenty-seven years living with my parents because they were terrified to let me live.” He let out a morose chuckle. “Which is ironic because they’ve spent the last fifteen years trying to keep me alive. I finally moved out. Even if I am living with you and Aunt Kay, it’s a start.”

Wayne mulled over Owen’s words, no doubt weighing Owen’s need for freedom, and the ingrained need to protect poor, sick Owen. The war waging on Wayne’s face might have amused Owen, if not for the fact that the outcome could change Owen’s future. One word from Wayne to Aunt Kay would set off a chain reaction that would end with Owen living back in his childhood bedroom.

Wayne rolled his head and pursed his lips, and Owen knew right then whose side Wayne was now playing on. “So what do you want?” Wayne asked in a hesitant tone.

“You know what I want.” Owen waggled his eyebrows.

Wayne rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know what you want. And from what I saw today, he wants you, too.”

Owen had to suck in a lungful of air. He was going to climb that mountain and plant his flag, and hopefully claim Turk as Owen Land for the next two weeks. Owen shivered at the image of plowing into that hot, tight, muscle car loving ass. That would definitely stop his mind from thinking.

He didn’t want to think about his six-month checkup in two weeks, or the barrage of invasive, soul-bearing tests, or the days of nail biting, floor pacing, nightmare inducing wait for the results. No. He needed to forget, live in the moment, tell the world he was still alive.

What Owen wouldn’t tell Wayne—he really should be worried.

Other awesome authors flashing this week:
Nephylim