The Gay Gatsby

Chapter 23: Callaway Law-SIN

Authors note: Hey, there's this book I really love that I think all of you should check out! It's called "Gatsby X Nick Stories, ooohhh bird" by BlargMaster13 And I really love it (it's actually hilarious) and I think you'll all really like it too!

On another note, I think that this is the chapter you all have been waiting for. Or maybe not, don't get your hopes up.

Also, I'm only a 15 year old who has had no romantic relations whatsoever so don't blame me for being terrible at writing this kind of stuff.

And mom, if you're reading this, I'm sorry for being a literal sin.

Enjoy!

Chapter 23: Callaway Law-SIN

"It takes two to make an accident."

      - F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

Chance

The stentorian sound of a knock at the door palpitated through the air with distinct significance.

I regarded my dad with bafflement, breathing a meek, "I'll get that."

My dad nodded, smiling, as I awkwardly shuffled out of the kitchen and into the foyer.

I was thankful to be out of the heavy air, finally being able to breathe. I could feel my head spinning, spots flickering in my eye sight. I tried to shake myself out of it and rid myself of my overwhelming flurry of thoughts. Unfortunately, I was incapable and I had to deal with my teenage angst induced nausea.

My mind continued to hum as I stepped over to the door of my apartment. My hand grabbed for the metal handle of the door knob, and I swung the door open with an utter lack of finesse.

It was only as the door was swaying open that I realized I had no idea who (or what) was going to be behind the door. I hadn't paid any mind to the time, but I knew that it was well beyond midnight.

My already panic-stricken mind supplied me with the worst case scenario: I had died and God was coming to condemn me for being partially gay. Or maybe I was going truly insane and I had just imagined
the knock.

Both options were deeply concerning.

Thankfully, neither of those possibilities were the reality.

As the door swung open, my gaze came upon something unexpected. What I saw before me in the doorway was the definite outline of a small figure.

And the smell of cigarettes was suffocating.

"Smoking? Really?" I groaned at Callaway, rubbing at my temples.

The boy's mouth fluttered open, about to speak.

I interrupted him, "Don't answer that."

I glared painfully into Callaway's eyes as he shut his mouth closed.

"I know exactly what you're going to say and - and I don't want to hear it, okay?" I spoke to the dark haired boy. "I shouldn't have done what I did - I know - and it was totally out of place. I can't say I regret doing it though.

"I know that there's no way you could ever return my feelings and . . . and that's okay - I can deal with that. But I can't deal with any pity or forced apologies." I sighed, continuing, "I know you don't care about me that much, if not at all. You said it yourself - you don't care about anyone but yourself. We're friends, but only because it's convenient which is fine . . . hard, but fine.