Chapter Twenty-Five

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Author's Note:

Gah this chapter is so rushed. I'm sorry. The next one will be better, I promise. In the meantime, enjoy the filler-ness that is Chapter 25.

xoxo,
Q.

On Tuesday morning, time seems to be moving by at half the normal speed. I wake up groggier than usual, which I think is because I literally cried myself to sleep.

I really let out all thirteen years of frustration I’d been keeping inside of me.

On the bright side, I do feel like a weight has been lifted off of me. But then I remember what happened with my dad yesterday and it all comes crashing back down on me.

I groan, not wanting to leave my room at all.

But I know that locking myself in here and throwing a tantrum is really not going to do anything for me, so I reluctantly get out of bed and start to get ready for school.

My dad is downstairs when I get there, which isn’t normal—he usually leaves for work way before I even wake up.

“Luke, I want to talk to you.” He says as soon as I get down the stairs. Gabe, who’s seated at the kitchen counter, casts a scared look from me to Dad.

“Can’t talk now. We’re late for school.” I say. “Come on, Gabe.”

Gabe doesn’t need to be told twice. He jumps off of his stool and hurries after me. My dad calls my name again right as I slam the door.

“You know we’re really not late, right?” Gabe says, opening the car door.

I roll my eyes. “No shit, genius.”

“You know, you’re gonna have to talk to him sooner or later.” Gabe says, as I start the ignition.

“Yeah? Well, I prefer later.” I say, and pull out of the driveway.

The car ride is mostly silent, though Gabe does try to start a conversation at one point. Once he sees I’m completely not interested, though, he gives up.

When we arrive at school, he looks at me like he’s about to say something, but then just gets out of the car and hurries away.

I sigh and make my way into the school building.

“Morning, buttercup.” Alana says as I approach my locker. Then she sees my face and her smile fades away. “Oh, jeez, what happened now?”

I snort and pull a couple books out from my locker before shutting it and turning to face her. “Ah, nothing. Came out to my dad. Called me a fag.”

I shrug and begin to walk away when she pulls me back around and into a hug. I’m taken aback at first, and then I push her away.

“It’s nothing. Whatever.” I say.

“It’s not nothing. That’s your dad.” She insists.

“Yeah, I know.” I spit. “Just…leave it, okay?”

I whip around again and hurry off to first period History.

Happily enough, Nate is way too preoccupied with himself to even realize what a shitty mood I’m in. He’s practically bouncing in his seat.

“Jeez, who slipped the happy pills in your coffee?” I ask, as I take my seat beside him.

He ignores my question and instead grins up at me. “Guess what?”

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