Chapter 12

Things were as normal as they could be around the house. Well apart from him receiving another envelope from Matthew. It had just been on the table. When he opened it again it was one thousand dollars on the dot. He appreciated the help honestly but he didn't need it. More to add to the college fund. Maybe Matt might get to go to a college he had only ever dreamt about. That was a nice thought.

Speaking of Matt where was he? The house was too quiet so he might be outside. He made his way outside the room and his eyes caught something foreign. He had to backtrack to the spare room. They had a spare bedroom. It was a three bedroom house and they never did use the spare room. It was more of a room that they just kept stuff when they didn't want to put it in the garage or couldn't be kept in the closet.

The wardrobe had been slightly ajar and he had seen what he had thought were shoes as he walked by. Walking closer he decided that his eyes weren't deceiving him. It was shoes. Not just two pairs, but seven. Seven pairs of shoes that weren't his. They weren't his style. Mostly sneakers and not the type of sneakers he would wear anyway. These were for the youths. People younger, people like Matthew. When did he get these shoes?

Well he was getting paid for editing, but why didn't he keep this in his room? He didn't know why he felt like he was hiding this. No that was not it. He should really stop doing this. Doubting him. It wasn't a good thing. He was about to close it when he saw fabric. He opened it and there were clothes hanging off the rail. They looked new, smelt new and he could see the tag. He knew he didn't buy all these. Well it was a good thing that he was spending on himself. He was happy even. If he was doing this then he wasn't thinking about the current problems that they were facing. No, that he was facing.

He pulled on a price tag and he blinked surprised. That was quite a lot just for a shirt. And he had bought close to eight if not more, with bottoms, jackets and sweaters. Just how much was Matthew doing. Even if he made one thousand dollars from five stories it still wouldn't be enough. He closed the wardrobe. If Matt was pushing himself too hard just to help him he had to stop him.

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"Matthew!" he called loudly as he came downstairs. There was only silence.

"Matt where are you? We need to talk" there was still no reply.

His search was derailed by a knock on the door. He composed himself as he went to the door. Opening it he was presented with the sight of a smiling Beck.

"Good morning Mr. Henderson" he greeted like the polite boy he was. That calmed him down a little. He was happy that Matt had a friend like him. Strong where he was weak.

"Beck. Come in" he stepped aside.

"Thank you" he walked in and made his way to the living room. He had been over so many times so he was familiar with the place and he had no problem making himself at home. "Did Matt step out? He said he was around" he looked to him waiting for answers.

"He was around a while ago, but he must have stepped out. I wasn't even aware. You can sit and wait for him, maybe call him" he suggested.

"I can just wait. It's been long since we talked" he said politely and beamed like the golden boy he was.

"Okay then, sit" he gestured to the couch.

He did so and Elliot sat on the armchair beside him. "So how are things? How is school?"

"It's okay. Doing my best" he said casually.

"And Matthew?" he knew he should have made more small talk, but he was really worried.

"You should know. He's your son" he laughed, but then stopped when he realized that he wasn't laughing.

"He's alright if that's what you're worried about. Did something happen?" he asked worriedly.

"It's nothing" he felt bad for making Beck worry, and also dragging him into something that didn't concern him just because he was suspicious. "It's just that I think that-well I feel that he's doing too much. Wearing himself out with his new job and all".

"Yeah. I had the same concerns too, but he assured me that he could handle it with his other job too" seemed like Beck was keeping an open mind.

"Yeah he said that he was editing manuscripts. I'm not around most of the time, so that means when I'm not around he's hunched over his laptop for hours looking through how many millions words-"

"Million?" Beck tilted his head.

"Yeah. It seems he went shopping and spoilt himself a lot…a real lot and I can't help but wonder just how many manuscripts that he had to read through. Does he get any sleep? Does his eyes hurt? Does his back hurt?"

"I understand your concern but I'm sure Matthew wouldn't do what he couldn't handle" he tried not to wince as he said that. This was the same concern he had and it seemed he wasn't alone. "Sort of funny don't you think? Seeing that he hates literature. Anything fictional" he laughed.

"Then why would he take a job he hates?" Elliot queried.

"Well-you-uh-um" he went into a coughing fit then

He knew that he was trying not to be suspicious of his son, but when situations kept popping up that kept incriminating him it was sort of hard not to.

"Has he said anything to you concerning any of this? Does he even talk to you about editing? Have you seen him edit at all?" he just had to know.

"Unbelievable dad!" Elliot and Beck jumped like they had been doing something wrong. They turned to see that Matt was in the kitchen. He must have come in through the back door and he definitely heard the conversation. "You don't believe me so you go behind my back and question m friend. Thanks dad" and he was storming off to the stairs.

"Matt wait" Elliot tried to stop him but he didn't listen. He didn't even glance at Beck.

When Matt had gone to his room and slammed his door shut the two of the just stared at the other.

"I'm sorry?" Beck said unsure.

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Matt tried to stay mad. He had every right to be mad. His dad questioning Beck because he didn't trust him. He screamed into his pillow. Ever since that-since he had sold himself looking into the mirror was just…he couldn't look at himself most days. Self-loathing consumed him seeing his own reflection. He had stooped so low to let that happen.

He slapped his cheeks quite hard and began to scratch rather harshly. He stopped when he heard a knock on the door.

"I'm sleeping!" he shouted. "Come back later".

"It's Beck!" he heard from the other side.

"Here to talk about me to my face now?" he asked turning to the wall. He heard the door open and he didn't stir. He still made no effort to acknowledge him as he sat on his bed. He did jump when he felt him lay down.

"Get off" he muttered. He was too tired to care. He wanted to be alone now. He didn't need Beck to care and his dad was right to be suspicious. They should just leave him alone.

"Your dad cares about you Matt. That's why he's acting like that".

"Of course you would defend him. Not everyone has a perfect family like you. Don't push it on others" he said scathingly.

Beck laughed. It sounded bitter and hurt.

"I know you project when you're hurt, that's your defense, but don't think for one second that just because I'm the star quarterback, I get perfect grades, I'm rich and I seem to have things going perfectly for me…"

"I will punch you" Matt cut him off bluntly.

"It's just appearances Matt" he sighed. "My mum is a raging alcoholic and my dad constantly belittles me that I think he's competing with me".

"Competing?" he looked over his shoulder at Beck who was looking at the ceiling.

"Remember the episode of Keeping up with the Kardashians when Kim said…"

"Of course" he sighed tiredly, but Beck had manages to make him smile. If any boy would watch that it would be Beck.

"I'm not sure that if I suddenly disappeared that they would notice" he sounded so sad.

"That's a lie" he grumbled.

"And your dad cares about you" he retorted.

The two of them stayed silent.

Matthew muttered under his breath and turned on his back.

"Want to get out of here or you want me to stay with you while you sulk?" he teased.

"Let's get out of here" he breathed out like it was such a chore dealing with Beck, but deep down he knew he wouldn't trade Beck for anything else. Not even for ten thousand dollars. He couldn't let him find out. He couldn't lose this. Any of them.