Cliche (Lams)

Chapter Twenty

Alec Pov
I got out of bed and was extremely pleased to find that I didn't have a giant ass headache.

I pulled clothes on and walked into the living room.

There was a knock at the front door and I opened it. I saw John pacing and running his hands through his hair.

"Yo, we need to talk." He said.
"I was thinking the same thing." I muttered.

I let him in and he and I sat in my room.

"I assume your parents know about the alcohol and the pot?" John asked.

"Foster parents, and yeah. They know." I said.

"Well get a load of this, I heard Francis Kinloch was arrested for giving adolescents weed this morning." He said, bouncing his leg.

Holy
shit.

"Did you get high? Or drunk?" I asked.

"Not high, I'm too much of a pussy to try that but I got super drunk. Nobody has ratted Sam out for bringing alcohol," John told me.

"I thought about telling my da- George about Sam but I decided against it. Plus he's a ginger." I added.

"What does having red hair have to do with anything?" He asked.

"I don't know. I felt a bond with him even though I barely know him." I said.

"But he's an idiot." John deadpanned.

"And a ginger."
"Hes insane."
"And a ginger."
"Why does it matter if he's a ging-"

"Hey! Only a ginger can call another ginger 'ginger'." I exclaimed.

John stared at me then muttered, "You're fuckin crazy."

I smiled and shrugged.

"Anyway, what happened Friday night? I can't remember jack shit." I said.

"Well, from my point of view, I showed up with you, got tipsy, then I couldn't find you. And then I flirted with a couple of guy- I mean Erm- Girls and then when I saw you again Eliza was palming your jeans and then I got super drunk and passed out." He told me.

"You're gay?" I asked.

"W-what? No." He said.

"You corrected guys to girls." I said suspiciously.

"Yeah? English is hard." He said.

"John you take AP English." I deadpanned.
That shut him up for a moment.

"S-so?" He asked.

"So, it means English comes easier to you than most. John I'm in that class with you." I said.

"Would it even matter if I was gay because I mean it's basically like the sa-"

"I wouldn't judge you. I'm bi." I told him, cutting him off from rambling.

"You are?" He asked with wide eyes.
"Mhm." I nodded.

"Yeah..erm..I-I'm gay." He choked, not making eye contact with me.

I've never been good at making eye contact anyway.

"That felt weird saying it out loud." He muttered.

"Does your dad know?" I asked.

"Fuck no!
Sorry. Just if you ever met my dad you'd understand. I'm doing just fine and dandy living in the closet every time I'm around him."

(I'm literally writing in my closet.
._. it's comfy. Don't judge me. I like small spaces.)

"I haven't told Martha and George about the whole bisexual thing.." I muttered.

"Why not? They were super awesome and supportive to Laf when he came out as pan." He told me.

"Really? I don't know. I guess I'm still getting over after what happened last time I told anybody about..it." I said.

"What happened?" He asked.

I made eye contact with him and then clenched my jaw.

"Oh." He breathed.
"Yeah." I muttered.

"On that happy note!.." John smiled, trailing off.

I chuckled and wiped my hands on my pants.

"Wanna go to my house?" He asked. "Yeah sure." I said.

I told Martha and George I was leaving with John, and got on the pegs of his bike as he rode down the road.

Yeah, I do have a bike but both of us were too lazy to get it out.

The boy I like is gay.
Thank the fucking heavens.

As we rode down the rode we screeched the lyrics to Revolution by the Beatles.
Why does my confidence go up when I'm around John?

Sure, I'll still stutter when talking to people I barely know wether or not John is by my side but there's just something about him.

I just can't describe it.
(..diCk)

I just have to keep bonding with him. I really hope that one day..
we might be together.

More than just friends.
More than best friends.
Together.