Chapter 19

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I glared at the text message that’s ringing had woken me from my sleep. I saw the LCD screen of my phone lit beside me on the nightstand. As it was six am, I was unsure about answering -- or even looking at the message. I asked myself, shouldn’t I just go back to sleep? For some reason though, I couldn’t sleep without knowing what the message had said. I reached for the iPhone. “Felicite has been up all night looking up the meaning of homosexuality. You have scarred my children. You will pay.” The message sent a series of shivers down my spine. I assumed it was from my father, but the number came up as private.

   I wanted so badly to reply, but I knew that would only cause drama that I was trying to erase from my life. I had decided last night when I stepped into Harry’s flat, and smelled the sweet scent of his Hawaiian Breeze air fresheners, that I was creating a new life for myself. I was to leave the past behind, and start new. I plugged my phone back into its charger, and set it on the nightstand.

   Harry rolled over on his side. Half-asleep, he asked me “is everything okay, Lou?” I replied with a yes and kissed him on the forehead. He smiled and pulled the duvet up to his neck. “Good night, Lou.” He said.

   “Good night, Harry.” I rolled onto my side, facing away from him. I closed my eyes just as soon as I recognized the luminescent color of my phone notifying me of another text message. I reached for the phone again, causing the bed to shake. Harry groaned, but fell back asleep soon after. I read the message quietly to myself. “Felicite has just asked your father if she can ask out ‘the pretty girl in her class’ Louis. I’m afraid of what he’ll do to you because of this.” My mother’s mobile number was showing that she was the sender, although I knew that. I sighed. I sent back, “I’m sorry, mum” before repeating my motion of plugging the phone in and placing it on the nightstand again. I rested my head comfortably on the pillow, and prayed to fall asleep faster.

“My mother was wondering if you and I could go to her house for lunch. She told me that my father has decided to leave on a three day trip that he describes as a ‘head-cleansing, self-rehabilitation vacation.’” I told Harry over breakfast. I watched curiously as he ate around the yolk of his over-easy egg, only letting his fork touch the white part. He might of told me before that his trainer doesn’t approve of him eating the yolk, but I wasn’t entirely sure if that was it.

   Harry looked up from his nearly empty plate. Flashing his pearly-white smile, he nodded. “Sure babe. That sounds nice.” He poked his fork around the yellow pad of yolk some more. “From what you’ve told me, she seems like a lovely lady.”

   “You charmer.” I teased. “She is, though. My stepfather doesn’t deserve my mother’s precious love. She should be giving it to someone more deserving and homosexual-approving.

   “We’re referring to him as your stepfather now, ah. I feel sorry for you, Louis. Really, I do.” He frowned. I nodded. “Anyone related to you must be lovely.” He flirted, changing the subject back to it’s original state.

   I raised my eyebrow. “Anyone? I’m not so sure about that. Have you forgotten about the evil stepfather, dear Harry? We were just talking about him.”

   “I was speaking blood related, Louis. Your stepfather is hardly related to you.”

   “Touche,”

Golden Gloves (Larry Stylinson) {Co-written with @bradfords}Where stories live. Discover now