TBBM XI. Welcome to the McIntyre's

"Are you rea-y? Yo- c-n't go h-me like this?" he had his grip on the wheel.

"Wh-t? I'm s--ry, I c---dn't h--r you."

"Wear y--- se-tb-lt."

"Unwear----What?"

"Y-- keep on yappin n-nse-nse," he launched in front of me. And I thought he was going to do something. I closed my eyes. I could smell him. He reached on to my side half-naked. "D-n't dre-am."

Seatbelt. He strapped me to my seat.

I thought he was going to kiss me or something.

I bit my hair in embarrassment.

The rain fell relentlessly. Road visibility went really low. Yet, Red drove carefully until we'd successfully exited the university gates. He sped soon as we were clearly on the highway. I didn't know where Red was taking us. But one thing I knew was I had to trust him and his driving skills. I watched him steadied his weary eyes on the road. I wanted to say allot of things but I didn't want to ruin his focus.

Actually, I didn't want to annoy him. He seemed nice that time.

Dub dub. Dub dub.

My heart raced as I watched him. Why? Why was this happening to me? I was shaking in cold; he was shaking, too. But we couldn't really turn the air conditioning totally off.

I started feeling dizzy twenty minutes into the drive. I'd been trying to think of ways so I could help him but my vision went blurry and after sometime, I lost it entirely.

+++

I woke up to Red's face a few hours after. I knew because his room had a window showing a portrait of darkness outside. It still rained.

I froze as I gathered enough understanding of the situation. His hand was on my forehead, checking my temperature.

"Good you're awake," he greeted, smilingly. He had his hair down as opposed to his usual brush up. That and his smile made him look like a completely different person. "I thought you'd die but I know you've a hickey so---"

"So?" I sat up. I was on his bed.

"So, you won't die yet. Hickeys in the bum, they're destined to make you miserable for eighty years, at least."

"Really?" I gasped in surprise. "You have that, too, in Australia?"

"Bloody Oath, mate!" he laughed so hard.

I shook my head, not comprehending his discourse. My head still hurt a bit.

"Wow! Your house is big!" I pointed out as I gaze at the surroundings. I could see a swimming pool to the left and a garden through the window. He rang a bell and his housemaids came in, in colour-coded uniform.

"Towel for Hickey," he asked.

"Hickey?" the head maid inquired.

"Yes. `Coz she's got a hickey in the bum," I pinched him in the arm but he wouldn't stop. Or maybe, his biceps were just that strong.

"Eeeew!" the other two maids reacted.

"Wow!" I returned, sarcastically.

I dried my hair soon as I got the towel. My body felt sore and cold. I figured I should change my clothes at least---

"No! Who took my clothes off?" I panicked as I looked under the covers. I was literally just in my underwear.

"What? Did you think I was taking interest?" Red honked. "One of the maids, did. She said she retained your shorts and baby bra."

I couldn't understand how he had such audacity to talk about undergarments.

"Stop," I yelled at him.

"Since when are undergarments embarrassing?" he was making faces.

"But, I'm still really wet."

"Bloody yes! And I let you soil my bed."

"Do I thank you, then?" I copied him.

He shook his head, smilingly. I feel strangely warm every time he smiled like that.

He walked towards another door---which I assumed was the toilet---and brought with him a bathrobe.

"Get in there and wash up, if you're no longer dizzy."

"Where's my uniform?" I returned.

"In there," he pointed to the toilet.

I hurried and checked so I could dry it quickly but something in my sleeves stung my eyes.

Mud.

He wiped off the mud from his smartphone using my sleeves. I thought I could remember it but it wasn't clear.

"No," I shrieked. "My mother's gonna kill me."

"Oh, you saw it now?" Red heard me and came over, laughing badly despite his colds. "Now, you'd look more like a beggar."

"Is it fun for you?" I fumed.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" he stepped back. "You lost consciousness. I thought you were gonna die. I needed to call the nurse. Tell me, how do I make a call when you muddied my phone?"

I rolled my eyes at him. I watched him explain with so much air. What? Should I be thankful he soiled my sleeves?

"So, thanks Red?" he kept brushing his nose bridge as he stood near the counter in his black sando and short shorts. It looked good on him, but considering me in the equation, inappropriate.

"Forget it," I dismissed the topic. "Actually, can you wear something longer than that?"

"Perv in the house," he hummed, he seemed really delighted.

"Whatever," he called me ugly, then a beggar, then a perv. He soiled my uniform, too. Twice now. I felt like I was going to tear up. "My mother will have a hard time cleaning this. She already works too much. And I only have two uniforms."

He was quiet as I cried. I wasn't sure why I was crying over this but I cried, anyway. It must be my hormones.

"F-fine, I'll wear PJs," he stuttered. "Will that make you hate me less?"

I closed the door and started washing myself up. Today was strange, I realised, I'd spent almost all of today with Red. Today, I hated him. Today, I admired him. Today, I'd gone so confused about what to do with him. I'd been through so much because of him. But also today, I cried because of him.

I sat alone in his bathroom. It was big and beautiful. It was cold, despite the hot water so I didn't take too long like I would, at home. I also finished handwashing my uniform, blow dried it for a bit and hung it by the rack to dry.

I tried to turn my phone on but it got soaked in the rain really bad. I wondered if it was ever going to work again. My mother must be looking for me now. James must be wondering, too.

Before I left, I noticed hair residue in his trash bin. I wondered if he cut his hair himself.

+++

I opened the bathroom door and walked into his room. I was still about upset but I felt better.

He lied on the couch wearing PJs, like he said he would. He busied himself playing games with his phone.

"I'll leave once the uniform dries," I started.

"You washed it?" he sat up and spoke, sounding guilty. "I was going to ask them to wash it... for you."

"It should dry out in a few hours, I guess."

"Few hours from now could be 9PM, or 10PM. Do you realise how much storm there is outside?"

"Who cares? I should go home."

"No," he renounced. "It'd be safer if you stayed here."

"Safe?" I sighed. "Didn't you cause me so much trouble, alread---"

"I'll be nice to you," he cut me. "Promise."

He looked at me with an unrelenting gaze. He looked like he meant it. He looked like he really wanted me to stay. Bizarrely, he wanted me to stay.

There was a long silence. But I couldn't tell if I should trust him. I could not read through him.

He grabbed me by the wrist and showed me to his dresser.

"Obviously, I don't have anything for a girl but, go wear anything you feel comfortable with," he lowered his face very close to mine. "I know you think of me as a very unpleasant person but, I'll let you wear my clothes because I'm trying to be really nice. Stay, will you?"

I nodded, looking away.

"You will?" he smiled again, looking relieved.

Dub dub. Dub dub.

Dub dub. Dub dub.

My heart throbbed insanely fast again.

"Yeah. I guess," I murmured.

"Stop copying me, okay?" he laughed pleasantly. "Plus, you'd look really terrible out there. Imagine your oily, ugly face in the dark, wearing clothes my size?"

"Red!" I exclaimed.

"Oh, my bad."

+++

I took my time scanning through his closet. All those I touched were made finely. It must have costed a fortune. Formal wear, jackets, cardigans, sweatshirts, pullovers. He was a good-looking guy so he sure could carry all of them very well.

I stared at his portrait on the wall. Surely, that kind of face must have captured so many hearts. I wondered how easy a life like this was. I wondered if I could ever live easily as Red. I meant, even now, it felt like I was constantly defending myself from my body. Guys like Red were lucky for they were born in the right body. I wasn't---and because of that, things were always hard for me.

I ended up picking up a loose shirt and sweat pants, folded at the bottom of dresser.

He looked at me as I approached him. His eyebrows kept twitching as if something was off.

"What's wrong?" I inquired.

"That's my favourite sweat pants," he blasted.

"And? You wanted me to return it?"

"Why? Do you feel comfortable in it?"

I nodded.

"Okay," he kept on laughing. "Actually, I haven't washed that yet."

"The ones at the bottom are for washing?" I closed my eyes in despair. "Why can't I do anything right?"

"No worries, I don't stink," he grabbed me by the wrist again and sat me down on his bed. "Unlike your hair."

"You kept grabbing me by wrist lately, are we even close?" I protested.

"Just making sure you don't run in trouble. I noticed you end up allot in trouble when left to fend for yourself."

"Really?" he had a point. I couldn't deny it. "You think I'm really such a troublemaker?"

"It's fun, though."

"So you think, I am?" I cleared my throat. "Can you teach me how to be cool like you?"

"Cool like me?"

I nodded.

"Such a flat---"

"At first, I thought you were just rich that's why you looked so cool. But then, The PAC girls were rich, too; but they weren't always cool. You on the other hand, you looked like a complete mess sometimes, but you always seemed to get it your way. How is that even possible?"

"Complete mess---when?"

"Like when you went on a streak of absence and you were just out there at the bar, drinking your life away... and then you came back looking like your spirit died. Also, you volunteered to be the president---you had no idea I tried to sever myself from that post for four semesters. You looked cool in all of them, though."

Suddenly, he was really quiet. He sank deep in thought.

"You're the first one in this house who thinks I'm cool, you know?"

"I wasn't trying to compliment you---"

"Stop blaming your birthmark for everything bad, Hicks," he cut me. "You're authentic. I like that about you, actually."

I used to hate Red, but at that time, he was just warm. Still airy, but warm airy.

"Is that why you hated me so much?" I finally asked.

"I don't hate you."

"Lie," I judged him.

"Why," he scratched his nose. "Do you hate me, really?"

I nodded.

"Poor me," he sank on the floor and rested his head on the bed where I sat. "I even cut my hair because of you."

"M-me?" I wondered more and more what he had to say. Bizarrely, he had so many stories unlike back at school. "What did---"

"Remember when I told you to be 'careful'?"

"Yeah," I suddenly remembered him that day. "First period."

"If your birthmark brought you doom, didn't you think it could also bring doom to people with bad intentions towards you?"

"What's that to do with your hair?" I cut him. But he was making good sense.

"I tried to stick a chewing gum on you. It ended up sticking on my hair. Geez, I hate that day."

"So you cut your hair because the gum that you were trying to stick to me, actually stuck back at you?"

He nodded.

And we both laughed, lightheartedly. I could imagine his frustration that day. I couldn't stop laughing. He couldn't stop laughing at his idiocy, either.

We went on like that for minutes.

"Were you always about-nice like this?" I inquired.

"About-nice?" he ran his palms on his face. "I'm always nice---to my friends."

"So, you weren't nice to me because I wasn't your friend?" I bit my lower lip, nervous.

"If I let you in my room, you're already my mate---"

"Mate like?" I meant, it could mean something else. I wasn't going to like anyone else other than James.

"Friends," his brows gathered, confused.

"We are friends... now?" I repeated, astonished.

"I mean," he clarified. "My position's still higher than you. But I don't mind calling you a friend, now."

"I don't really have very many friends," I joined him on the floor and rested my head on the bed. "I live a difficult life. Not everyone can understand me. You should probably reconsider."

"Difficult like?"

I looked away.

"Because you're gay? Effeminate?"

"See," I bit my lip. "Even you don't get me. How can you be friends with somebody you don't understand?"

"Tell me then," his eyes were locked on me. "I mean, you look like a girl to me---an ugly girl for that matter."

I pouted as he called me ugly.

"Okay. Erase the 'ugly' part then."

"You asked me why I'm so feeble and why I don't walk steadily---"

"Because?" it suddenly felt like he was brooding me over. His attention was overwhelming. He grabbed me by the wrist again. It was making me nervous.

"You can say that I'm fighting my own body---"

"Because?" he asked, impatiently. "Tell me everything, Hicks."

"You see, I was born in the wrong body," I gulped. "Transgender, is the right term."

"And?" he gripped my wrist even tighter.

"And what?" I hesitated. "What's next are already private details."

"What's that got to do with your walking..or---"

"They give me shots every three months... on my thighs," I blurted. "But it has side-effects. I've been taking it beyond the prescribed length of time so---"

"So?"

"I've started to show signs of losing bone density," I confessed, looking down. "My hair's thinning, too."

"Don't get it then," his grip was tight.

"They said that it may have really bad effects if I continued. I thought that I could hold on for much longer. My mother, she was trying to make different solutions for the hair. Turmeric's one."

I looked at him. He looked pissed. Really pissed.

"Are you nuts? Why would you keep doing it then?" his voice raised.

"I guess, I am," I pouted, shaking the topic off. "But, stop belittling my choices, okay? I don't even belittle you---maybe a little bit, just a little bit---when you play evil with the weak."

"You must really be bloody hating me," he shook his head and let go of my wrist. "I don't play evil with the weak."

"What!?" I sighed. "What do you call the things you did to me?"

"I only do it to you. 'Cause you're ugly."

I couldn't tell whether he was simply being mean, or if that was just his way of showing affection. But nevertheless, it was harsh and inconsiderate. How could he be both warm and disagreeable at the same time? I wondered to myself as I watched him think.

"Also, yesterday," he added, fighting off laughter. "I was just... gonna scare you. But I didn't think of the puddles. But c'mon, you weren't gonna die just by being covered in mud and murky water! Call me evil if I ran you over!"

I remembered yesterday again. I wanted to get mad at him but, in the last few hours that I was with him, it felt like, I got to meet him---the real him.

"What's with the arm stretch, then?" I jeered.

"Arm stretch?" he looked at me defensively.

"Yeah. You stretched your arm out like this, flashing your wristband," I gestured.

"You're impossible!" he said aghast. "That was me signaling you I'd turn left, back to the school, on to the exit so I could check on you, Dummy!"

"Y-you were going to check on me?"

"I did, Miss," he scratched his head. "But you were gone. I wasn't evil like you portray me to be."

It got me dumbfounded.

"Oh-Oh!" he hit his right palm with his left fist. "That was why you launched at me this morning, wasn't it?"

I bit my lip.

"See, I was trying to do good," his voice was really loud in excitement. I couldn't overtalk him. "You just judged me, like that. Easy pissy. All this time, I thought you were nice and meek, actually."

"I thought you were nice and meek, actually," I copied him.

Since then, Red had been reproaching me for my ill-judgment of him. It was annoyingly incorrect but the more I disagreed with him, the more he presented me his arguments. He would make for a good debater---actually, I'd take it back, not a debater---but an influencer by force. He literally mansplained me every time I tried to fault his reasoning---he just overtalked, overexaggerated and overpoured me with biased examples. His explanations were overwhelmingly vexing but it felt fun arguing with him. He was never this talkative in class. It was funny when I got him so pumped up and cornered, because it only made him explain even more. I didn't realise he'd have this kind of child in him. In a way, it was cute.

May the Saints pray for him.