Made For Him

Chapter 1

Aiden at 15

Aiden Summers always knew was different. That difference cost him plenty. His father’s respect and love for one, his mother’s life for another. The former didn’t have to do with anything with him being gay.

Deep down, he knew his father needed a new target practice for his fists after lung cancer took his mother away six months ago. Sometimes, he blamed her too, for giving up so easily.

The front door slamming shut was the first indication of his father’s mood. The walls of the trailer seemed to vibrate. Aiden knew what came next. Tucking himself into a ball, a book on his lap forgotten, he curled into a tiny ball. He wished he possessed the power to disappear.

Heavy and clumsy footsteps thudded outside. Breaking ceramics followed by a stream of creative curses. Panicked, Aiden looked around the bedroom. One mattress didn’t make a room, but he’d learned to re-adjust to their new home. After mom died, his father started drinking heavily and lost his job. At least they had this trailer. They weren’t out in the streets yet. Most of the time he and his father took turns sleeping on the couch or bed.

He should have stayed outside today, shouldn’t have come home to do his homework. But where would he go?

The kids at his new school hated him. Everyone seemed to think of him as fresh meat.  Aiden heard high school was horrible for everyone, but some of the pranks the guys pulled on him weren’t funny.

Hide what you are. Pretend. Those were the last words his mother told him after they relocated from the city to bumfuck central.

Aiden ignored that advice. He was no coward. Some days, he regretted being out of the closet. It was too late to take back his proclamation because everyone in school knew. The non-haters were as bad the bullies. They didn’t lift one finger to help him.

Where the fuck are you, you little piece of shit? hollered his father.

The trailer wasn’t big. Thank god for the influence of alcohol. The old man didn't sound coherent. With finals looming tomorrow, Aiden didn’t want to end up looking like he’d gone through several rounds in the ring. Coming to school last week with a puffy left eye already raised a couple of questions.

One way in and one way out this shit hole, unless...

Aiden considered the small window they never opened. Leaving his books aside, he rose to his feet. The door to the room rattled.

What the fuck? How dare lock me out, you little fucker?

Fists pounded on the plastic door. Aiden kicked his heavy school bag toward the door and went back to the window. Grunting, he lifted it. Sweat dribbled down his back.

His father’s curses rose a pitch higher, becoming increasingly creative and disturbing. No doubt the neighbors heard them. No doubt someone would call the cops, but nothing would happen. Hurling abuses and breaking things was a common thing around trailer city.

The window moved a couple of inches but got stuck midway.

Shit, he muttered under his breath.

The window was barely small enough for his skinny frame to squeeze in. He needed it entirely open. Pouring all he strength into the task, the window slid free, one painful inch at a time. Cool night breeze hit his face.

The door swung open with a thump. His father came at him, a roaring bull. Big hands gripped the back of his t-shirt. Aiden had one foot out of the window, one still inside. Fabric ripped, but it didn’t matter. Fingers wound into his hair, tugging him back savagely.

Get the fuck away from me, Aiden yelled.

Snarling, he lashed out, foot catching his father in the chest.

Groaning like a wounded beast, his father stumbled back, but it was only a matter of time before he got his momentum back. Aiden slipped out of the window, falling face-first into the ground.

Tasting dirt and blood in his mouth, he spat them both out and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He waited for the dizziness to pass. By some miracle, he managed to get back on his feet.

The old man started making noises inside again, banging and wrecking things. There would be hell to pay, but that was still later. For now, he was free.

Breaking out into a sprint, Aiden zigzagged his way past a bunch of trailers. Most of the time, TVs were on, drowning the sounds of angry voices, crying, barking dogs and fists.

This was his world. His present. His future. Aiden hated it.

His sneakers crunched on the dirt, eventually leading him back to the entrance of the park. Soil gave way to gravel. Aiden kept walking.

It was a twenty-minute walk to town. Most of the shops were closed by now, save for the old cinema and the bars. Aiden didn’t mind. He liked walking the silent streets. Aiden imagined he was in some kind of ghost town.

Aiden kicked aside an empty beer can. More littered the roadside, along with used condom wrappers. Once he covered a good chunk of distance, there was nothing but trees on either side of him.

It was an unexpectedly chilly tonight. Shoving his hands in his jeans pocket, Aiden hummed a tune he heard from the neighbor’s radio. Few cars passed him by. For a second, Aiden was tempted to stand on the other side and stick his thumb out.

He’d hitchhike to whatever the driver was going. It didn’t matter where, as long as it was far as possible from his hellhole.

Where would that lead him though?

Would he be content being a vagrant who didn’t even graduate high school? Aiden saw himself waiting tables, an aspiring nobody no different from all the hopefuls arriving in the city. Dejected, Aiden trudged onwards.

Eventually, Aiden passed the town welcome sign and entered the town proper. People littered the streets—happy couples, high school boys and girls in groups, slinging beer cans in brown paper bags, smoking weed on the side.

They reminded him of wolf packs, inclusive and unwelcoming of others. Aiden had always been alone, someone to pick on at school and hurl abuses at. A human punching bag.

Sucking in a breath, Aiden spotted Cray Matthews and Jansen Reed. Seniors and members of the football team. His least favorite people. He made a quick turn, ended up on a small street, a quiet residential neighborhood. The houses here had actual fences and no wheels. Envy rammed into him.

Blissful silence.

He walked on, imagined living in one of these places with a caring family. What was he doing? Feeling sorry for himself only made him feel worse. Aiden exited the neighborhood and fumbled for his pockets. He had a couple of quarters, enough for a soda and maybe chips on his walk back.

Silver’s General Store was opened 24/7. Reaching the parking lot of the store, he noticed one flashy electric-blue Mustang that looked vaguely familiar. The car windows had been rolled down, but he couldn’t make out the figures inside.

Jagged laughter cut through the quiet night. Smoke rose from the windows. Just a bunch of kids who loved getting high.

Walking past them, he entered the store. He lingered in the beverage section, eying the selection. A cold beer sounded tempting. He mentally counted the coins in his pocket, searching the other pockets for loose change. When he found a folded twenty in his left back pocket, he wondered what this was for. Probably school stuff, but who cared?

Aiden got drunk easily, but he didn’t drink that often. He was tall enough to pass for an adult. That was the reason why his father always used him as an errand boy. Aiden had only been asked for ID once. He strolled out of that place, muttering he forgot his wallet in the car.

One beer wouldn’t hurt.

Once the effect of alcohol kicked in, his mood would mellow out. Did he really want to end up like his old man? Tucking the bill back in its hiding place, Aiden settled for soda and his favorite Popsicle.

Aiden, how are you and your dad doing? asked widowed Mrs. Silver.

Her husband used to own the general store and she took over it three months ago after Mr. Silver passed away. He’d encountered her several times during his nightly walks. She always had a kind smile but never asked about his bruises or what he was doing here at this time of the night.

He’s— Awful and impossible to live with. Aiden faltered. Doing great.

I see. Mrs. Silver scanned his purchases and placed one wrinkled hand over his. He blinked in surprise. If you need someone to talk to, I’ll always be here.

Heat creeped into his cheeks and neck.

Thanks, Aiden muttered."

Peeling away the Popsicle wrapper, he savored the artificial cherry sweetness on his tongue on his way out of the store. He couldn’t wait to get out of here. Aiden hurried out, glad Mrs. Silver could no longer see his retreating figure from this side of the lot.

Seeing the four guys hanging by the blue Mustang, every muscle in his body froze. Swaggering towards him, they formed a loose circle, blocking his path.

Shit. Why wasn’t Aiden looking at where he was going? Years of dodging bullies taught him to be aware of his surroundings but tonight, he turned his radar off.

What brings you here, faggot? Cray asked.

The senior had a beer in one hand, a cigarette stick in the other. Jansen, his right-hand-man, stood to his left. Two boys, he didn’t recognize stood by Cray’s side. One was a senior. Aiden recalled seeing the gorilla playing on the football team.

The other was a boy who looked vaguely familiar, a sophomore like him and someone from his class. Cody, he remembered. Cody looked pale, not meeting his gaze. Cody looked like he didn’t to be here.

If he remembered correctly, girls couldn’t stop gushing about Cody. Cody was the kind of guy who everyone got along with. A golden boy who came from a good family, earned good grades and to top it off, had good looks.

Well, fuck Cody.

They were going to beat the living daylights out of him and Cody would watch, throw in a punch or two. After Aiden recovered from this and came back to school, Cody would slap him on the shoulder and tell him no hard feelings. Cody was a coward, a coward who sought approval from his peers, even worse than Cray and Jansen.

Ignoring Cody, he turned to Cray. Standing this close, he was all too aware of the fact Cray was huge. Aiden silently swore that once he got out of this shit hole he’d reinvent himself. He wouldn’t turn into a bully but  he’d become someone no would dare mess with.

What do you want, Cray? I’m on my way home, Aiden said coolly.

Quietly, he assessed the situation. Running away seemed like the best option, except he knew how that scenario would go down. He won’t make it far.. Aiden could run back to the store. Mrs. Silver would be there along with that pimply part-timer, but putting the only adult who had ever been kind to him in danger wasn’t an option.

Black faggot boy here has got a spine tonight, Jansen remarked.

Without warning, Jansen’s fist blurred and slammed into his ribs. He gasped, dropping the Popsicle and the bag containing his orange soda. Some of the sticky cherry fluid spilled on his ragged shirt. Another blow to the ribs stole the air out of him. Doubling over, Aiden tried to think past the pain.

Cray, this place is too open, muttered the third senior.

Jansen fisted his shirt. Moaning, Aiden could barely focus on what they were saying.

What then, Brody? You chickening out?

No fucking way. You promised me I’d get a chance to ram my dick inside that faggot’s hole. Over there, Brody said, jerking his head to the alleyway beside the store.

Those words jolted some fight back into Aiden. What the fuck? Brody was worse than both Cray and Jansen combined. Jesus. Up until now, he’d accumulated bruises from the nasty pair, but this was the worse kind of humiliation.

Aiden never imagined his first time with another man would be like this, in the mercy of bullies. Even if he spoke out, went to the police, no one would take his side. Every single person in town saw Cray and his football buddies as local town heroes.

He kicked and screeched, but it was no use. Another punch to his rib made his head reel. Agony streaked throughout his body. Jansen practically dragged him to the alleyway.

Nausea hit him. Frantically,