I woke up in the morning to the smell of breakfast lingering up the stairs and into my bedroom. I sat up in my bed, still groggy from the sleep, and heard, "Jean! Breakfast is ready" come from a familiar voice. I glanced over and noticed the empty pallet on the floor beside me, empty. Marco must have left early this morning I thought to myself. I got up, found a clean-looking shirt in my closet, put it on, and headed downstairs. "Morning mom" I said while stretching my arms in the air with a huge yawn. "Good morning!" she replied in her usual, cheerful tone, "You two must be starving." You two? I thought to myself. I glanced over and noticed a familiar, freckled boy helping my mother set the dining room table. "M-Marco?" I stuttered, "I thought you left." He grinned at me, one eye still black with obvious bruises on his face, "I heard your mom making breakfast, so I came down to help" he responded. He had several bandages on him and it was obvious that my mom had put her nursing skills into use on him. "Let's eat" she said to us. We all sat down at the table and began eating our breakfast over awkward small talk. "Are you okay, Marco?" I asked sincerely to the boy as I neglected my breakfast. Marco instantly gained a frown and looked down at his lap. "Now, now." My mother said, "There is a time and place for that conversation. When do you guys go back to school?" Marco raised his head and said, "Next Monday." I had completely forgotten about school. As my mom and Marco continued with their small talk, I could not help but remember the previous night.

          Marco and I walked slowly from the bench in the park to my car; my arm still wrapped around him. I opened the passenger door for him as he slowly sat down in the car. I walked around to the driver side, took a deep breath, and got inside. "What am I going to do?" Marco said to me, his face in his hands. "Don't worry about it." I responded while placing my hand on his back, "You've got a place for now." "I don't want to burden you and your mom" he said, still avoiding any eye contact with me. "You have a place" I said sternly, "Don't worry about it." I started the car and began driving. The entire trip was completely silent besides the occasional night owl sounds coming from the woods around us. I glanced over at Marco and started shaking at the thought of his dad. How could someone do something like this? I thought. The worst part was that he was used to this. It was not a one-time-thing. "Marco?" I asked hesitantly, "Has this sort of thing happened before? Like to this extreme?" "I mean" he mumbled, still avoiding eye contact with me, "He's never taken it this far before but, yeah, I've had some rough times with him." "Why haven't you said anything before? I know we've talked about this, but if it has gone this far multiple times why do you keep letting it happen? He could take it too far one day and then what was your plan?" Marco's head lowered as hearing this made him obviously uncomfortable. The remainder of the car ride was filled with tense silence until we made the final turn to my driveway.

           I quickly helped him out of the car and lead him into the front door of my house. My mother was at work and unable to attend to Marco's wounds leading me to take him to the upstairs bathroom. He leaned against the counter as I began to raid through the cabinets looking for any kind of antibiotics or peroxide to clean him up. I started cleaning his wounds as best as I could but I was not able to fully cover them. "I think this is all I can do with some bandages and rubbing alcohol. When my mom gets up in the morning I'll have her stitch you up properly, okay?" He gave me a short nod before following me down the hall. As we walked into my bedroom, I started rummaging through my closet. "What are you doing?" Marco asked me, hesitantly. "Well" I responded, "You can't sleep in that" I said, looking at the torn and dirtied shirt he had on. I handed him a shirt and pair of pajamas. "Here" I said, "This should do." I turned in order to give him some privacy and he thanked me before starting to change himself. After a moment I looked back just as Marco was starting to slip on the new shirt. I felt myself blush at the sight of him. After snapping back into reality, I noticed an ungodly amount of bruises on his back, some of which were almost healed. At the sound of my gasp, Marco turned around a revealed yet another grotesque bruise covering the majority of his abdomen. "Marco, what the hell?!" I demanded. "They aren't as bad as they seem!" Marco practically yelled, "I-It looks a lot worse than they feel." He quickly tugged on the shirt with a pained wince. With a sigh I crossed the room over to him and pulled his shirt up. "Marco!" I shouted, "We need to get you to the hospital. That looks bad." "It's fine" Marco insisted, without a care for himself, "It only hurts when I strain myself. It's just bruised." I placed my hand over his bruised abdomen, trying to check for swelling. I smiled sympathetically at him but he suddenly flinched at the touch. I instantly pulled my arm away from him and said, "I'm sorry." "It's really not that bad" Marco said, returning his shirt to its original position, "I've had worse." He was trying to be strong but I could not help but notice the tears starting to form in his eyes. "You can't just ignore this" I said trying to console him. "I'm trying to deal with it in my own way" he said abruptly, "Can we please talk about this tomorrow." I quietly accepted that there was nothing I could do. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence I helped make a palette in the floor for Marco and we fell asleep almost instantly, trying to forget the previous events.

            "Jean!" I instantly woke from my daydream during breakfast. "Are you finished?" My mother said, about to grab the half-eaten plate of food in front of me. "Yes" I responded, "Thanks for breakfast." "You're welcome, Jeanbo" She replied. She headed towards the sink to start washing dishes but not before Marco stood up to grab the rest of the plates. "No!" She yelled at the boy, startling him, "I've got this. You and Jean go upstairs and talk." She ushered us up the stairs and into my room. Finally, the two of us together, Marco decided to talk but not about what I was expecting. "I like you, Jean." These words sent me into a rollercoaster of emotions. I was not expecting this at all. "W-what" I stuttered. "I like you" he said with a hint of a smile, "I don't want it to be weird anymore. I'm tired of thinking about my dad and all of the shit he's done. I want to be happy." I could feel my lips forming a smile on my face. Little did I know, I liked him too. I never would have thought that I was gay in the slightest but from day one, I have liked him. "I want you to be happy too" is all that I could mutter. His face lit up. It was like the one ray of happiness he had left was shining through. "But" I said, knowing that I was treading through a dark path with my upcoming statements, "What are you going to do?" To my surprise, his smile never left his face. "I spoke to Armin" he said happily, "I'm going to stay with him this week and then just stay at school until the end of the school year." "It looks like you've got it all figured out huh?" I asked. He nodded in agreement. "So" he said, clearly steering clear of any more conversations about his family, "Are you into guys?" What? I thought to myself. "A-are you asking if I'm gay?" I asked nervously. "Yes" He said. "I don't know" I said, looking down at the floor beneath me, "I know I like you though." It felt like a weight had been lifted in the room. I felt... happy.