Coming to terms with his sexuality, Theodore Moore is a seventeen year old who is just about getting by. He makes minimum wage and has aspiring, out-of-reach dreams to become a lawyer.
Violent and aggressive, Antony Barbosa is everything wrong with...
I hear a knock on my bedroom door. I didn’t bother to look over the covers out of annoyance at Tom for not telling me what he went to do the other day and for my parents for not understanding me. “Theo?” I hear, and I’m instantly pulling the duvet down, just as Fernanda opens the door and steps in. She gulps a little, crossing her arms over her chest. “How are you?” She asked me, and I slowly sat up, being careful of my ribs.
“I’m alright.” I tell her, tapping the space near my feet on my bed. She clears her throat before sitting down, wrapping her arms around my body. “How’s…?” I glance away from her.
“I don’t know.” She admits, and my jaw clenches. “He hasn’t come home since…” Her words trail off. I glance up at her, noticing the sadness in her eyes. The betrayal in her features. The anger that she’s trying to hide.
“I didn’t want you to find out this way.” I tell her quietly, and I hear a sharp intake of breath before Fernanda speaks once more.
“It seemed like neither of you wanted to tell me at all.” She says, a little harshly, before she huffs, her breathing heavy. “How long has it been going on?” I asked her, and I closed my eyes, shaking my head a little.
“A few months.” I tell her, and she nods her head slowly. “But… it’s not serious, or anything. We’ve just been…” I shrugged my shoulders.
“Yeah.” She says quietly, and I glance up at her as she licks her bottom lip, tears gathering in her eyes. “I’m really fucking worried about him.” She admitted, and my lips quiver as I picture his bruised and broken face in my mind, filled with his father’s fury. The tears in his eyes as he walked away and the blood dripping down his body as he blinked away his pain. “I have no idea where he is, and he’s not answering the phone, so…”
I gulped, glancing down at my phone. Over the past few days, I’ve been calling him and texting him non-stop, but he hasn’t answered. Not once. To say I've stressed myself out about it is an understatement. “Have you heard from him?” Fernanda asks me, but I shook my head, my gaze landing on the bed sheets between us. “I’m so sorry, Theo. About my dad, he shouldn’t have… he had no right to hurt you.”
“It’s not your fault.” I sniffle, and I look up at her just as the bedroom door is opened again and Tom walks in, freezing when he sees that I have company. He looks from me to Fernanda, his jaw clenched and his nostrils flared in annoyance.
“Fernanda, I think you should leave.” His voice is clipped as he opens the door wider for her, and she only blinks at him.
“What?” I snapped.
“Excuse me?” Fernanda gets to her feet, obviously upset. Tom looks between the both of us, raising his eyebrow.
“You need to go. I’d prefer it if Theodore didn’t see anyone from your family, right now.” Tom says, his voice calm and authoritative.
“You’re not my fucking keeper, man.” I glared at him, but Fernanda only bows her head and walks closer to Thomas. He stands taller and looks down at her as she scans his face. His mouth parts slightly. She purses her lips.
“It’s okay, Theo.” Fernanda says to me, even though she’s still staring at my brother. “It’ll probably be better if I go. For everyone.” She says, pushing past my brother. His jaw clenches once more.
“Nanda-” I speak, but she’s already out of the room and I can hear her footsteps disappearing down the stairs. “What the fuck, Thomas? You had no right to just kick her out like that, you cumrag!”
He only raises an eyebrow at me, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans on the wall. “You can’t be around that family anymore, Theo.” He says, shaking his head. I scoff, turning away from him. “I’m being serious. What, you think you can go over to her flat like normal after what’s happened? You think you can carry on shagging Antony after this? It’ll only get worse, and you know that.” He snaps, and my nostrils flare in annoyance.
“You don’t control my life, Thomas.” I say, quietly, rubbing the tip of my nose.
“You can’t even control your own life, Theo. Someone has to.” He tells me before swiftly leaving the room. I stare at the wall opposite me, my eyes stinging from holding my tears in. I sniffle loudly, pressing the bottom of my palms into my eyes, forcing myself to keep my emotions composed. It’s like everything has been pulled from under my feet in the last few days, and there’s nothing I can do to stop myself from falling. I’m hitting the floor at such a pace, that it doesn’t make sense to even stop it.
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