Closeted | Boy x Boy

~Dreizehn~

I walked into the house, hot tears streaking down my face. I'd been crying since I started walking home, my hood pulled up over my face so that no one would actually see me crying like a fucking baby.

Mom looked up from where she was frosting this big, two-layer cake with pink and purple frosting. "Hey, kiddo!" she chirped. "How was school?"

"You're home?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah. Thankfully I got this big order, and they're paying me three hundred bucks for it!" she said excitedly. "I can't believe I actually- oh. Oh, oh, honey what's wrong?"

I wiped my eyes, sniffling loudly. "N-Nothing, nothing, I'm fine."

Mom wiped her hands off on a towel and walked across the kitchen, her socked feet creaking over the wood floors. She grabbed me and pulled me into a crushing hug, the frosting on her cheek rubbing off on my face. I buried my face in her chest, wrapping my arms around her waist as I sobbed into her breasts. 

"Oh, sweetie, is this because I haven't been home?" she asked, rubbing my hair with her hand. She worked her fingers through my curls, massaging my scalp with her fingertips.

I shook my head. "Mm-mn."

"Did something happen at school?"

"Mhm."

"You want to talk about it?"

I looked up at her, her face blurry through my tears. "Nobody likes me-" I whispered, my voice choked. 

Mom held me out at arm's length, her eyes wide with concern. "Oh, honey why would you say that? I like you, and so does Marley. What about all your friends at school, huh? What about all of them?"

"Th-They don't like me," I sobbed. "They never have!"

Mom winced. "Oh. You're at that age, huh?" She hugged me again. "Not everyone is going to like you, baby. Not everyone you meet can be a fan of you, it's just not that easy in life. But as long as someone likes you, then you should be happy."

"But I want people to like me," I sniffled. "I know it's pathetic but I want people to like me and I want them to think I'm cool, I want them to admire me, I want them to look at me for advice. Does that make sense? I can't just be happy with only one person liking me, I want them all to like me!" I wailed.

Mom nodded. "Oh, sweetie, I know how you feel. When you get a little older you'll be smarter about things like this, but right now you feel what you feel and that's okay. It's normal to want the attention of other people, darling. Everyone wants people to like them, it's just that at a certain time and place you realize that you don't need their validation to like yourself."

"But I do," I repeated. "I can't live without people liking me!"

Mom looked at me seriously. "Abe, I believe you can. Marley likes you, Jay likes you, I like you-"

"Jay doesn't like me!" I cried. I had told Mom a little bit about my partner for the project, and at the time it was when he was nice to me and kept complimenting me and shit. "He's just using me."

Mom frowned. "How do you know that?"

"Charlie told me!"

"But Charlie doesn't like you, does she?" Mom said sternly. "So why would you believe someone that you don't like, and who doesn't like you, over someone that does like you and wants to be your friend? Hmm?"

I blinked back tears. "But-"

"No buts. You have so many people that like you. Family, friends, it just feels like a handful of people not liking you is the end of the world. Think of it like food. Would you rather have a serving just right for you, or twenty pounds of it."

I sniffed. "What?"

"Do you want to waste the food given to you, or do you want the right amount that you're going to properly finish and enjoy?"

I wiped my eyes with my sweater sleeves. "Th-The normal amount?"

"Exactly. If you had twenty friends, some of them would get left out, some of them wouldn't like each other, and some of them would only pretend to like you. But you know Marley loves you, and you know I love you, and you know that Jay likes you. So you shouldn't be fretting about the people that don't like you, and pay attention to the people that all really, really do like you."

I smiled through my tears. "You promise?"

"Of course! I'm your mother, mother's don't lie," she said, flicking my forehead playfully. "Come on, you can help me frost this cake."