Prompt: A prompt where Leon first realized he was gay?
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"Where are you going, Beckett?" I asked.
"Home," Beckett said without bothering a glance at me. "My dad is waiting for me."
"I can walk you there," I offered.
"Don't," he said, voice flat.
I frowned, worried about him. His friends had graduated last year, and he didn't have any friends his age. He'd become quieter and more closed off this year without the Warrick kid around.
I wanted to cheer him up. I hated seeing him so upset. We weren't friends, but did that matter?
"Beckett!" I called. "Wait, let me take you to the market. I'll buy you a drink."
"I don't want to," he snapped, glaring back at me. "Leave me alone, Leon."
I felt my heart sink as he disappeared into his dad's classroom. I didn't know why I was so desperate to help Beckett, but it was killing me that he wouldn't let me.
"Lee?"
I looked up at Caroline. "Oh, sorry. I...ran into Beckett. I was just talking to him."
"It's fine. But let's go. Dad said he's going to do his work at home tonight," she said.
I got up and the two of us left the academic building, starting down the sidewalk towards the building dad was in. Caroline was looking down at her phone, smiling a little.
"What?" I asked.
"I'm just texting someone," she said.
"You're smiling," I said. "You look really happy."
"Because I'm texting someone cute," she said, flicking at my head. "Don't be nosy, little brother. Who I have a crush on doesn't concern you."
"A crush?" I furrowed my brow. "Caroline, how do you know if you have a crush on someone?"
She thought for a moment. "Okay, I'm going to describe a few things to you. Ready?"
I nodded. "Ready."
"There's someone you smile when you talk to. You're proud when you make them laugh. You get nervous when you're alone with them. You think about them all the time. Little things make you think about them, like a song you'd think they'd like or a drink you'd like to share with them. You'd do anything to make them happy. You look forward to seeing them. Sometimes you go out of your way just to run into them." She looked down at me. "Anyone come to mind?"
Beckett.
"Yes," I said.
"Then congratulations, you have a crush," she said, patting me on the shoulder.
I stumbled to a stop. No, no, that couldn't be right. Beckett was a boy. I was a boy. Boys couldn't like boys. Dad said that was a sin.
