Author's Note:
Okay, I'm posting this chapter early because I know that y'all really didn't like what happened in the last. I'M A WRITER, IT'S NOT ALL GONNA BE RAINBOWS AND CUPCAKES. Srsly though, some of y'all are violent. ANYWAYS, I think this chapter will kinda make up for it. The next one should be out in around a week.
ENJOY! :)
xoxo,
Q
We walk down the sidewalk, hand in hand. It’s so weird, being so open about it, and I’m half expecting Bryce to just appear out of nowhere and start pounding us, but other than a few strange stares, we’re ignored.
Peter is so comfortable with who he is. It’s like he doesn’t even realize when people give us odd glances. Me, on the other hand, I’m just incredibly awkward, unsure of how to carry myself, constantly worried I’m doing something wrong.
“You okay, Luke?” Peter asks me, smiling.
I nod quickly. “Yeah, of course.”
“Just new to it all, huh?” He says, understandingly.
“Yeah.” I nod again. “Guess it just takes some getting used to.”
It’s intimidating, being with Peter. He’s just so confident and so aware of who he is and he just doesn’t give a damn what other people think of him.
He’s also, like, an inch taller than me, which I’m really uncomfortable with. I don’t meet a lot of people taller than me and I sure as hell have never dated one.
But at the same time, I enjoy being with Peter. He makes me laugh really easily, and he’s so interesting. There’s so much going on in his life.
He travels and he’s involved in all this theater and music and I’m perfectly content with just sitting there and listening to him talk.
“So tell me about this Emery kid.” Peter says.
I stare at him, my eyebrows raised. “I’m sorry, what?”
Peter chuckles at me, but I continue to stare at him expectantly.
“Why do you want to talk about my ex-boyfriend?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. I mean…I can’t imagine not knowing who I was till seventeen.”
“When did you realize you were gay?” I ask, now genuinely curious.
Peter snorts. “Are you kidding? For my third birthday, all I wanted was a Barbie. When I was seven, my dad wanted me to dress up as Spiderman for Halloween. I told him I didn’t want to be Spiderman, because I wanted to marry Spiderman.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Ugh, I’m jealous. I wish I’d known sooner. Would’ve saved me from getting into a lot of shitty relationships.”
Peter squeezes my hand gently. “Come on. Talk to me about Emery.”
I sigh. “Okay. But let’s get a coffee. It’s getting cold out.”
Peter smiles and leans over to kiss my cheek.
*
“It was just completely foreign territory. I’d never felt that way about anyone, let alone a guy. It was entirely bizarre to me. The idea that I might be gay didn’t even cross my mind at first. I was just so freaked out.”
Peter whistles. “Woah. How’d you figure it out?”
“Well, Toby and Alana helped a lot.” I reply, honestly.
“Alana’s the one who was with you at the mall on our first date, right?
I nod in confirmation and am about to speak, but Peter holds up a finger, stopping me.
“Wait, I wanna see if I remember what you told me about Toby. He’s a sophomore, right? Gay kid that was your brother’s friend at first. Super protective over his boyfriend.”
“You got it.” I nod at him, sipping from my Starbucks coffee cup.
“So how’d they help you?” he asks, interestedly.
“Well, I mean, Alana just guessed. I suppose I wasn’t being as discreet as I was trying to be.” I let out a short, awkward laugh.
“Woah, woah, hold on!” Peter says, grinning. “How did she guess?”
I blush and look down. “She said something about the way I was looking at him or whatever.” I mumble as incoherently as possible, but the look on Peter’s face tells me he heard me loud and clear.
His grin has grown even wider. “That’s amazing. What about Toby?”
“Same thing, in essence.” I say, neglecting to mention the part about the dreams, because I don’t want to be laughed at anymore than necessary.
“So when do I get to meet all these people?” Peter asks, downing the remains of his coffee.
My eyes widen and I stare at him.
“What?” he asks, noticing my expression.
“You want to meet my friends?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He nods, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Why?” I persist.
Peter’s face breaks into a smile and he reaches out and takes my hand in his.
“Because, Luke, I like you. I like you a lot and I want to know more about you, and part of that is meeting your friends. Besides, you’ve told me too many wonderful stories; I kinda am dying to meet the famous names behind them.” He says. “So what do you say?”
I sigh. “Alright, alright. I’ll see if they can hang out tonight. Maybe we’ll order some pizza and watch some movies in my basement.”
“Sounds good to me.” Peter says, easily.
Suddenly, something occurs to me.
“Oh, and, um, a bit of a warning—I’m not out to my dad yet, so, like…” I trail off, unsure how to finish the sentence, but Peter seems to understand.
“Don’t worry about it.” He says, comfortingly, and then grins. “I’ve dated my fair share of closeted guys.”
For some strange reason, this actually makes me feel better.
*
That night, the first one over at my house is Peter. He rings the doorbell and my mom lets him in, which is what I was trying to avoid.
“Oh, hello.” My mom says, looking surprised. I’ve told her a very small amount about Peter and she kinda figured out that we were more than friends, but I don’t think she expected him to look the way he does. I think she expected someone a little more…well…gay.
“You must be Peter.” My mother says, shaking Peter’s hand and letting him in.
“Yes, I am.” Peter replies, smiling. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Adams.”
My mom smiles at this and I have a painful memory of the first time my mom met Emery.
“Please, call me Kelly.” My mom says and that’s when I interject.
“Okay, Mom, we’ll be in the basement. See you.” I say, quickly, grabbing Peter’s hand and swiftly walking away.
Peter laughs lightly and as soon as we’re down the stairs and the door is shut, he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me into a kiss.
Kissing Peter is a little bit like kissing a girl.
I mean, don’t get me wrong, the sparks are still there and it’s a hell of a lot better than kissing Vanessa, but after getting used to the electrifying kisses with Emery…
Ugh, shut up, Luke. Stop thinking about Emery.
But it’s hard.
I really like Peter, and I enjoy spending time with him. But there were so many real and raw moments with Emery that I just can’t forget.
He was genuinely the first person I felt a connection with, and I guess that bond never really leaves you.
“You okay?” Peter asks.
I smile at him and peck him on the lips once more. “Never better.”
*
Emery and Katy are the last ones to arrive, which does call for some awkwardness. I didn’t tell anybody that Peter was going to be here, and Emery’s face is enough to make me feel like the worst person that ever existed.
He covers it up quickly and holds out his hand.
“Peter, right?” he asks, his eyebrows raised.
Peter smiles and shakes Emery’s hand. “That’s me. And you’re Emery, right?”
Emery looks surprised that Peter knows who he is, but he nods his head curtly as an answer and then goes over to sit in between Alana and Toby.
The night’s a little awkward, but Peter seems to fit right in with my friends. Katy seems to especially get along with him, as they have such a similar sense of humor. At one point, Alana pulls me aside and murmurs, “You guys seem to be pretty serious.”
I shrug. “I mean, we’re together. If that’s what you mean.”
Alana smiles and gives me a quick, one-armed hug. “I’m glad you’re happy. And Peter’s a really nice guy. Everyone seems to like him a lot.”
She’s right, they do. Peter even manages to find something in common with Nate –they’re both avid comic book fans. They get into a little argument over DC vs. Marvel (Peter’s a Marvel fan and if you insult Batman in front of Nate, he will literally flip a table at you), but otherwise it goes smoothly.
The only weirdness is between Peter and Emery. Peter actually tries though, trying to ask Emery how he’s liking Nashville so far and if he misses anything about Indiana.
Emery gives either one-word answers, or wordless ones, like a nod or a shrug or a half-hearted smile.
It’s cringe-worthy.
It’s also noticeable. Drew and Toby exchange surprised expressions. Emery’s generally so polite, even in uncomfortable situations. It’s unusual to see him be so hostile.
That wrong smile is on his face the entire night and it’s honestly like a stab in the gut.
Peter doesn’t seem to be letting it get to him, though.
That’s one thing I really like about Peter—he’s so carefree and easygoing, it’s like nothing ever bothers him. Sometimes I really wish I could be like that.
Peter is the first one to leave, as his school starts almost an hour earlier than ours. Yeah, Sunday night really wasn’t the best night to have a bunch of people over.
I walk him up the basement stairs, and once we’re out of earshot of everyone, I say to him, under my breath, “hey, I’m really sorry about Emery. I don’t know what’s up with him; he’s usually not like this.”
Peter smiles and gives me a surprisingly tender kiss. “Don’t worry about it. I totally get it.”
I release a little sigh of relief and smile back at him. “Thanks.”
“Alright, I’ll see you later.”
“Bye!” I smile after him and once he’s gone, I turn back around and go back downstairs.
“We should probably go too.” Toby says, looking at Drew.
“Who’s your ride?” I ask.
Jess raises her hand. “I’m Alana’s ride, too.”
“Alright, let’s blow this popsicle stand!” Alana exclaims.
We all stare at her.
“Never say that again.” I say, warningly.
She grins at me. “You love me.”
After Alana, Jess, Toby, and Drew all make their noisy and slow exit, Nate gives me a quick man-hug.
“Yeah, I should probably split, too. That Peter guy is cool, man. Don’t screw this up.” He says.
I grin. Coming from Nate, that’s probably the greatest compliment I’m ever gonna get.
And Nate’s gone too.
“Well, since everyone’s leaving.” Katy says, with a shrug and walks over to give me a hug. “Come on, Emery.”
“Oh, woah, not you.” I say, grabbing Emery’s arm and pulling him back, just as he was heading towards the stairs. I turn to Katy and smile sweetly at her. “Katy, dear, would you mind waiting upstairs while I have a quick word with Emery?”
Katy casts a scared glance from me to Emery, but then nods and hurries up the stairs. Once I hear the door close, I release Emery’s arm.
“Wanna explain to me what the fuck that was tonight?” I ask.
Emery avoids meeting my eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t play this game with me.”
Emery sighs, and his silver eyes meet mine. As usual, I’m unprepared for the striking color.
“Did you really expect me to be jumping for joy at the prospect of meeting your new boyfriend?” he asks, crossing his arms.
I sigh and rub the bridge of my nose, unsure of what to say. “No, of course I didn’t, I just…”
“Just what, Luke? Just thought I deserved it, seeing as you still think I’m the one who told everyone about us?” Emery exclaims.
My head snaps up. “Are you seriously still going to try and defend yourself? I thought we were over this.”
“I’m telling the truth!” Emery nearly shouts, surprising me. “I never told anyone! You really think I would be stupid enough to tell people after what Bryce was doing to Toby and Drew?”
“You hated keeping it a secret!” I respond, just as loudly.
“I hated that we had to keep it a secret!” Emery yells. “I hated that our school was full of dickheads who didn’t understand! I hated that Katy and Rowan could date without anyone giving two shits and we couldn’t! I hated that I would be considered a freak just because I was in love with you!”
I stare at him, frozen. My breathing shallows and I’m completely speechless. Emery suddenly seems to realize what he said, and he takes a step away from me, his eyes as large as saucers.
“I have to go. Katy’s waiting.” He mumbles quickly, grabbing his jacket and bolting out of my basement.
I continue to stare after him, unable to even form coherent thoughts.
Then I hear the door slam closed, my knees buckle, and I fall onto the nearest chair.
*
As if that night wasn’t enough, the next day is really just the cherry on top of the shithole that was this week.
When I get home from school, my entire family is seated at the dinner table.
Just to be clear, this never happens. Not even when we’re eating dinner.
They all look at me as I walk in, their faces extremely grim.
My mom looks like she’s been crying; Gabe looks scared as shit, and my dad looks completely stern and serious.
“What’s going on?” I ask, tentatively, unsure if I even want to know the answer.
“Luke,” Gabe starts, but my dad shoots him a glare that immediately silences him.
“Sit down, Luke.” Dad says, firmly.
I drop my backpack and walk over to the dining table. I take a seat across from the three of them.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Luke, I got a call from Richard Kent today.” My dad says.
My heart drops into my stomach. I instantly feel like I’m going to be sick. I’ve never been this nervous in all my life.
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Holy fucking fuck, you are so fucking screwed.
“Tyler’s dad?” I ask, casually, like it’s no big deal. “What did he want?”
“He told me Tyler’s been suspended.” My dad replies.
Well, at least that’s good news.
I say nothing, waiting for my dad to continue.
“And he said you’re the reason Tyler’s suspended.” He finishes.
My eyes nearly pop out of my head.
Are you kidding me? It’s my fault the jackass finally got what was coming to him? Sure, that seems fair.
“Um, I’m pretty sure that’s not accurate.” I say. “I mean, yeah, I’m the one who told Mr. Korten about all the awful stuff Tyler was doing, but it’s his fault for doing them in the first place.”
“And the stuff you’re talking about is picking a fight with you, right?” Dad asks, leaning forward.
I resist the urge to snort. “Believe me, there was more to it than that.”
Dad leans back again. “Richard seems to think Tyler was provoked.”
I stare at my father. “By me?”
Dad nods.
I actually snort. “If by provoke, you mean attempt to stay down and avoid him as much as possible, then sure.”
“Tyler says you’re a fag.”
I flinch, involuntarily.
It’s one thing to have a bunch of stupid teenagers spit the word at me laughingly after beating me up.
It’s another thing to hear it from my completely calm and collected dad, seated motionlessly across from me.
“I’m sure that’s quite the vocab an asshole like Tyler would use.” Gabe exclaims.
“Be quiet, Gabe.” Dad shoots, still scrutinizing me. “Luke…”
He waits for me to speak.
I avoid meeting his eyes.
Now would be the absolute worst time to start crying. It would just prove to my dad that I’m a fucking girly mess.
Everyone except Emery still thinks I haven’t broken my record of not crying since I was four.
I swallow the lump that was growing in my throat and face my dad once again.
“What?” I respond, finally.
His eyes widen. “Is it true?”
“What, that I’m a fag?” I spit. “No, Dad, I’m not a fag.”
Gabe looks down at his hands and my mom sighs a little. My dad seems to look relieved.
“But I am gay.” I finish.
Gabe’s head jumps up and my mom inhales.
My dad stares at me.
“Is that it?” I ask, standing up. “I have homework to do.”
I start to walk away when my dad calls me back.
“Luke, get back here!” He exclaims.
I turn around. “Why? What is it you want to say to me?”
No words come out of my dad’s mouth.
“That’s what I thought.” I manage, and then grab my backpack and bolt upstairs as fast as I can.
As soon as I’m in my room, I slam the door and lock it behind me, before sliding down onto the floor and breaking down in tears.
“Fucking shit, Luke.” I mumble to myself. “You really are a fag, aren’t you?”
I hear a knock on the door behind me.
“Luke?” Gabe’s hesitant voice calls.
“Not now, Gabe.” I clear my throat, not wanting Gabe to be able to tell I’m actually crying.
“Are you okay?” he asks, softly.
I don’t respond. I don’t know how to respond to that question.
Gabe seems to understand. “I’m here if you want to talk.”
He stays outside the door for another moment, but then I hear his footsteps as he walks away.
I sigh, burying my face in my knees.
I do want to talk, but I don’t think Gabe is really capable of having this conversation with me. He has no idea.
I consider calling Peter. He’d probably have some really good advice for me in this situation.
I pull out my phone and scroll through my contacts. I pause when I reach Peter Barnes. My thumb hovers over the name and then I sigh.
“Fuck.” I murmur, and scroll up.
I dial the number and hold the phone up to my ear. It rings twice before he picks up.
“Luke?” he asks in surprise.
I can’t help it.
A fresh wave of sobs overtakes me.
“Emery.”