My life, isn't your life.

3. What am I doing wrong? Why don't you understand?

"Oh, shit!" I exclaimed, trying to find a quick way out of the school. Unfortunately, there were so many students littering the halls, I couldn't find a path to get through.

"Luca, over here!" A familiar voice yelled from behind me. "Jonathan!" I said, relieved as he lead me to his locker.

"You remember that scene from Captain America?" Jonathan asks, quickly.
He was talking about the kissing scene, because intimacy really seems to intimidate most people.

"That'll never-" I started, but he interrupted by kissing me. My mother's voice was right in front of me, but she hadn't seen because of our full-on make out session.

Once she'd passed by, and was down another hallway, we broke apart. "Told you it would work." He smirked.
"Whatever." I said, rolling my eyes, but secretly I was extremely relieved this had actually worked.

Jonathan and I often had debates about the stupidest shit ever, and that kissing scene was one of them. I'd said it would never work in the real world, but he didn't believe that. And he was proven right today.

"You got lucky." I remarked, annoyed.
"Well, our luck is about to run out if we don't leave right now!" Jonathan exclaimed, looking behind me.

I turned to try to find what he was looking at, and there was the school's security, most likely looking for me.
"Oh, shit!" I exclaimed again, this time feeling totally hopeless. I knew if I went back now, I'd be suspended by the school, and much worse, my parents...

"C'mon, let's just go! We'll take my car, yeah?" Jonathan said, waving me out one of the school doors.
"But your parents..." I said, I really didn't want to get Jonathan in trouble, even though I was constantly getting him in trouble with the stunts I've been playing lately.

"It's ok, I'll explain everything to them."

"But, you don't even know what's going on." I stated as I climbed onto the passenger seat, closing the car door behind me.

"I can guess. Your mom found out, because the principal told her?"

"How did you-"

"Angela tried to make me go to prom with her since you'd be 'busy'. I assumed she told the principal about you, even though he probably heard when you pulled that stunt the other day." He explained.

He quickly revved the engine up, pulling out of the parking lot.
"So, your parents will be ok with me staying over for a few days, until thing cool down?" I asked, a little reluctant to take so much of his parents' hospitality.

"A few days?! I thought you meant just a couple hours! How bad is it?!" He exclaimed, completely surprised at my poor choice of words. I hadn't meant to make him worry.

"No, no, it's not that bad. They just...my dad's a pastor, so he's not really into that sort of...stuff. But, it'll be ok. I'm sure they'll cool off in a few hours..." I let my voice drift away.

I knew they weren't ever going to get over it. They'd probably kick me out, even though I'm still a minor.
Or they'd send me to conversion camp. I shuddered at the thought of being strapped to a bed with electric shocks hitting my brain.

They'd probably enjoy that though. They'd probably want to come, just so they could watch me suffer.
Because that's all they seemed to do, make me suffer. I sighed, trying to shrug those thoughts off.

"If it really was going to be ok, you wouldn't be running from school and asking to stay at my place for a few days. What's really going on, Luca?"
He knew me too well.

I guess that's what friends are for.
I took a deep breath, knowing full well that what I was about to tell him would only cause him and me lots of pain.

"They...sometimes...do...stuff." I tried to spit out, not wanting to break down sobbing.
I was struggling not to let my emotions take control of my actions, but ever since I was little, the only reason I ever acted out at school or outside of the house was because of my parents.

They were so toxic, always yelling and screaming at me to 'figure it out' when I asked for help with almost anything, and to 'hurry up' when I was supposed to do all the chores.
And by all the chores, I mean all the chores.

Every single one is expected to be done before they get home from work, but I don't even have a car, so getting there before them is almost impossible.

"Is that why you don't tell me how you get those bruises that randomly show up in the mornings? Because they're hitting you?" Jonathan asked softly, trying not to upset me.
I appreciated that immensely, but it didn't work at all.

I just nodded, biting my lip to keep the sob that so nearly threatened to escape.
Jonathan just nodded, and didn't bring it up again, or ask anymore questions.
I kind of wish he would though, or say something! This silence was kind of scaring me, like he was plotting my parents' murder.

We pulled into his driveway, and he got out of the car without another word. I followed close behind, waiting as he unlocked the front door to the huge house.

"My parents won't be home until late. I can order takeout, or make something if you want." He offered, walking into the kitchen. "Whatever you want." I said, not hungry at all.