"Errol is at your house?"

"Damn it, Pel, why'd you have to make it sound like I had a one night stand with him?"

Pelham bit his lower lip to suppress his smile, though he was well aware that April couldn't see him, owing to the fact that they were both talking on the phone. "Well, did you?"

"No!"

He couldn't help it; he laughed. "What, did you invite him over for a slumber party?"

"Pelham, I know you have one paper left tomorrow. I know you're excited because your exams are almost over. And I know you're excited for summer," she said, a sigh dragging at her tone. "But please, sometimes you being this bubbly weirds me out."

"Would you rather a gothic mode?"

There was a pause, to which Pelham could distinctly imagine April shivering on the spot at the mere image of himself in a dark, presumably sinister version. "Okay, I'm not complaining," she said. "You just ... you sound happy."

"It's almost summer,"

"Yeah. That,"

"Really," Pelham shifted on his bed as he adjusted his phone near his ear, "what happened to Errol?"

"That Asian guy ... Jordie. I'm assuming,"

"How so?"

"He kept muttering about tryna kill that guy,"

"Maybe it's just the alcohol in his blood,"

He heard April snort. "I found him passed out at the back of the parlour earlier this afternoon," she explained. "Okay, not really. He was giggling when I approached him. Obviously he couldn't drive. So I gave him a lift. But once he was in my car - see, I was gonna ask him for his address - he passed out. Had no choice but to take him with me. It was a tough work, dragging him into the house."

"So you slept together?"

"You're making it sound obscene,"

"I promise you I'm not,"

"Well, to answer your question; no, he slept on the couch," she said. "My parents were kinda freaked out when they saw him this morning. Though, my sister was giving him the saucer eyes. It was annoying."

"Jealous?"

"Am not,"

"Tell me when you've changed your mind,"

He could hear April huff on the line. "So how are things with your mum?" she asked, clearly trying to alter the topic. Pelham doubted she wanted to talk about an inebriated Errol any further, especially not when the boy was - in all likelihood - eavesdropping over their conversation right at this moment.

Pelham shrugged. "Keeping up,"

"Are you still giving her the silent treatment?"

"I'm not a cruel person," he said. "Unlike you, of course."

"Yeah, 'cause I'm ruthless like that," she agreed. Pelham felt his face split into a grin. "And how are things with Lucio?"

Now he felt his stomach contract. "We're good," he said.

"Just good? No details?"

"He said he wanted to visit his hometown this summer," he said, knowing fully well that it was considerably irrelevant to what April was actually prompting.

"Oh, so you're gonna miss him," she said, a hint of amusement dripping at her tone. "Just have a good-bye lovemaking before he leaves. That should do it."

Pelham paled. "He's not gonna leave forever and we're definitely not having sex,"

"Your subconscious says otherwise,"

"April,"

"I think that's my mum calling me to take Errol home. Gotta go."

As soon as the line went silent with the indication that April had hung up first (Pelham always waited for the person to end the call before him, because who knew whether they had some other things to say?), Pelham got to his feet and stretched. April wasn't wrong about one other thing about him, at least. Despite everything that had been circling around him, the mere idea that he only had to sit for one more paper tomorrow morning gave him a sense of utter bliss. A freedom from the constraint that these exams were giving him. Who wouldn't feel ecstatic?

He was astonishingly light for the past few days or so. He had been, in fact, ever since he came home from having his moments of truth gush out of his mouth with the old woman in the park, as though a great weight had been lifted off his chest and shoulders. Like unblocking a clogged drain, everything that flowed out of him was far more limpid now. He'd begun to delve deeper into his head then, into his own self, now that he knew the knots and tangles that had been stifling him for quite a long while had long since slackened. Things had never been so unambiguous in his head.

Indubitably, none of the weights would've left his body had he not opened up and expressed his feelings. Of course, he remembered feeling quite at ease for a few weeks after coming out to April. Even then, he'd thought his biggest concern was hiding in the closet from his girlfriend. But of course, there was more than just blotting himself out of the radar. There was more than himself that he had yet to define; to discover; to ascertain. And being another homosexual seventeen-year-old wasn't essentially all of himself.

That was what the old woman had partly implied to him anyway. "Your sexuality doesn't necessarily define you, does it?" she'd said. "Let's have a scenario; a famous basketball player who is also, shall I say, bisexual. And people know this. Would you describe the person as 'bisexual' or 'a basketball player'?"

Pelham had chuckled meekly then. "I think some people would use the sexuality part as an adjective to describe who they are," he'd said. "Like ... a bi basketball player."

She had beamed at him. "Yes, well, you do get what I mean, don't you?"

He didn't completely comprehend it back then, but now he did. Recalling her words, they were pellucid in his head, like a chant that kept saying everything - regardless of their ravaged, shambolic state - was all right. And when he returned home that day, he had simply helped his mother around in the kitchen. Not much of that verbal conversation was exchanged then, but he had somehow found it relatively peaceful.

He'd never quite gotten the name of the woman, however.

And he hadn't seen her since, despite going back to the park on the day after, where he'd brought Lucio along. When Lucio - having listened to Pelham talk about what he'd said to the woman before that - suggested jokingly that the woman might be an angel, Pelham had halted his tracks. "What if she is, though?" he'd wondered aloud, only to receive an incredulous look from the younger boy.

"I guess God is tired of your crisis, so He sent an angel to help you out." Lucio had remarked.

"Guess I'm going to heaven after all."

A lot of confessions had been made then; what Pelham had expressed to the woman about Lucio Alves, he expressed them to the boy himself. He was satisfactorily stunned to see that Lucio had managed to keep a neutral expression throughout the entire time he was talking - expressing his feelings, really - given the ever-growing intimacy between them. That didn't stop the boy from slipping his hand into Pelham's afterwards, though, regardless of being in a public area. Pelham found that he liked it.

Stomach rumbling, Pelham hopped off the bed and made to head out of his room. Upon the sight of his mother standing right outside his room - how long she had been loitering around the corridor, Pelham didn't have a clue - Pelham paused. Hand clutched around the doorknob, he regarded her with a subtle wariness; a curt tilt of the head and a squint.

"You didn't happen to be passing by while I was on the phone on coincidence, did you?" he asked.

"I did, actually,"

"Okay,"

Jody shifted from one foot to another, looking fairly out of place herself, as though she had been caught trespassing into a foreign territory. "I didn't know you and your Spanish friend what-was-his-name were together," she said.

"Lucio, you mean?"

"Yeah. Him,"

"Well, Mum, you sure missed a lot,"

She might not flinch, but Pelham could see it flash in her eyes. The penitence. The guilt. And all of a sudden Pelham regretted ever saying what he'd said just now. She's trying, he reminded himself. She may not be the most perfect creation on the planet, but she's still my mum and she's tryna make it up to me 'cause she's human.

"I know," she eventually said.

"So what part of the conversation did you hear?" Pelham asked, because he was already feeling awkward at the mere concept of his mother overhearing him talk about intercourse on the phone. It didn't seem felicitous, to say the least.

She shrugged. "Just you talking about Lucio not leaving forever and not having sex with him,"

Pelham felt his cheeks heat up. Well, then.

"I know I'm still not really used to this," she said when Pelham didn't respond. "But ... why don't you invite him over for dinner? I want to get to know him. This relationship between you and him. All of this. You've been hiding for too long, Pelham. Sometimes I feel like I don't even know you."

Suddenly Pelham's stomach unclenched; he didn't realise he'd been tense since he saw his mother in the corridor outside his bedroom. "Our relationship?" he said, almost stuttering.

"Well, you and him are sort of together, aren't you?" she said, tilting her head aside, squinting up at her son.

Pelham shuffled one foot on his carpeted floor. "Right,"

"Pelham,"

"Yeah, Mum?"

Her eyes were wide, brown irises glimmering under the light spilling in from the windows. "I haven't been a supportive mother, have I? When you told me about yourself?"

"Well, I get it. I was hiding myself. And one day - boom - it came out of nowhere-"

"The truth, Pelham,"

Pelham sighed. "Yes, you haven't Mum," he admitted. "But at least you haven't disowned me or anything."

She chuckled weakly at that. "You're a good boy ... I've been quite horrible, on the other hand,"

"You just realised?" said Pelham in a joking manner.

"I'm taking my words back,"

Pelham couldn't help it; he grinned. "I'm sorry, Mum, but I'm not in the mood to talk about how gay I am right now. Or how it's because of an unresolved stage at one point during my childhood. The internet can help you with that," he said, moving past the door. "Right now, I just want to eat."

"You're always eating,"

"Well, Mum, I'm a teenager, in case you've forgotten,"

"You'll be eighteen this summer," she pointed out.

"Better cram all those food into my stomach before it's too late, am I right?" he said, moving down the hallway as he did so.

He didn't hear his mother respond, but he knew that things were at least all right between them. Not at its best - but progressing.

*

The thought of summer somehow filled Lucio with disquietude. Not that it was due to the season itself. Rather, it was more about the concept of visiting his hometown and seeing his parents in the suburbs where he grew up. Sure, the last time he was there, nearly everything and everyone stood in his way like a plight, besieging him from every possible corner. But that didn't mean he had a pitiful childhood.

Aunt Fabia had agreed to book the plane tickets, though not comfirming it in case Lucio developed any second thoughts. Despite not throwing any objection, despite everything that Lucio had gone through, she still seemed reluctant about letting him go back to pay his parents a visit. Lucio thought he knew why. After all, the reason she took him in was to protect him.

And he didn't suppose she was ready to let him back yet. There were times where he began wondering whether she was really going to adopt him one day.

Lucio let out a soft sigh just thinking about it, running his fingers through his already unkempt hair as if to placate his mind. It had been weeks since he thought about seeing his parents again, especially now that his exams were coming to an end. What was he going to do? How was he supposed to acquit himself? For someone whose parents didn't give a good enough time after being exposed with his sexuality, he didn't suppose bounding up on their front porch would be fitting.

Talk to them like a mature son, he told himself as he went over to the stove and turned it off. Give them sandwiches, maybe-

Lucio heard a rap on the front door. He glanced at the clock mounted on the wall and frowned. Aunt Fabia had gone to the convenience store not an hour ago to buy some groceries, surely she wouldn't be back so soon? Unless, of course, she'd forgotten her money. Not that it was something that didn't normally happen to her. Once she had scanned all of her items at the cashier, only to realise that her wallet was in her wardrobe in her bedroom, and made Lucio run all the way to the house and back.

Nevertheless, Lucio hurried towards the front door and opened it.

He wasn't expecting Pelham, though.

"Smells like tuna," was the first thing that Pelham said as soon as the door was opened.

"I'm trying to make egg and tuna sandwiches," Lucio explained. "Wasn't expecting you."

"So much for not wanting to share your food, is that it?"

Lucio pressed his lips together - partly because it was true. "Why don't you come in?"

"Sounds like a spectacular idea,"

"Ingenious,"

"Who knew house guests are welcome inside the house?"

"Just get inside, damn it,"

Grinning, Pelham stepped in. "Where's your fabulous auntie?" he asked, looking around the hallway as though he would find her crawling on the ceiling.

"Grocery shopping,"

"So you're alone?"

"I actually stole my neighbour's crocodile for company. It's making sandwiches in the kitchen," Lucio deadpanned, walking into the kitchen with Pelham in his wake.

"You're right. That was a stupid question," the older boy agreed.

"Would you like to eat something?" asked Lucio, grabbing a plate from the shelf and looking around for a butter knife.

"I just ate, thanks,"

"So what're you doing here?" Lucio was aware that Pelham was watching him from behind, and tried not to feel as though he was being scanned by an X-ray.

"My mum thought I could invite you over for dinner," he replied. "So I'm here to deliver her request."

"Couldn't you have done that through texting?"

"Nah," Pelham replied. "Wanted to see you."

When Lucio turned on his heels, he felt his heart shoot up to his throat, for Pelham was standing way too close behind him. Very close indeed, that Lucio had to tilt his head back upon the sudden - and seemingly recurrent - realisation that Pelham was astonishingly tall for a seventeen-year-old. He could practically feel the heat radiating off the boy's body. "Well, I'm here." he said, trying to feel light, though failing as his voice went up an octave at the last word.

"That's the point." Pelham nodded, bending down and kissing Lucio full on the mouth.

Suddenly losing his appetite to eat sandwiches, Lucio responded right away. Both of his hands - abandoning his plate and butter knife altogether - came up to craddle Pelham's face, drawing the boy closer.

Pelham pushed his head forwards, causing Lucio to walk backwards until he felt the edge of the counter dig into his hip. Wounding his fingers through Pelham's hair, a faint gasp escaped his lips when he felt a pair of firm hands grip his hips as if to steady him against the counter - basically pinning him there as Pelham worked his mouth on Lucio's. Lucio's head and heart were a messy, shambolic display of fireworks right now, the touch of Pelham's lips hot on his mouth. He couldn't feeling anything - not the floor he stood on, not the cold edge of the counter threatening to slide past the hem of his shirt - but him.

When the boy pushed forwards again, Lucio slid back and, with one hand gripping the edge of the counter, he hoisted himself up before wrapping his arms around Pelham's neck. The hands that were on his hips had slithered under the fabric of his sweater now. And they remained on his bare hips - so much for teasing. His palms were cool, their contact on Lucio's warm skin sending jolts of shivers all over his system, like dumping a bucket of ice over incandescent coals. And when those fingers moved, snaking their way up his hips to his waist, Lucio - eyes fluttered shut - involuntarily arched his back, his legs wrapping around Pelham's waist.

A grunt sounded from Pelham's throat. Lucio's breathing had grown heavy by now, and Pelham seemed to be experiencing the same thing, for he had left Lucio's mouth to leave trails of kisses along his jaw, his hot breath fanning against his skin. Pelham's head dropped to his shoulder, lips brushing against the base of his neck.

"Did you even close the front door?" Lucio asked, fighting back an awkward noise from leaving his mouth when Pelham's lips brushed against a particular spot at the base of his throat.

"Hmm?"

"'Cause I think I heard it close just now ..."

"Must be the wind," the older boy murmured.

It was only when Lucio opened his eyes did he stop.

Aunt Fabia was leaning against the archway leading from the hallway into the kitchen, arms crossed over her chest. Two bags from her mini grocery shopping session had been laid down on the floor, on either side of her legs. She was holding up her wrist, studying her watch, almost as though she was counting the length of time of their little make-out session. If Lucio hadn't felt hot all over before this, he sure felt as if he had been dumped with boiling water.

When she looked up, her eyebrows rose. "You two done, or are you gonna continue somewhere more private so I can start making dinner?" she asked in a blasé manner.

Surprised, Pelham detached himself from Lucio and stood leaning against the counter just as Lucio hopped off of it. "At least knock," said Lucio, feelings his cheeks raise fifty-degrees celcius.

"One; there's no door," she pointed out, "and two; this is not your bedroom, young man."

Pelham snorted in laughter. "Yeah. Should've closed that door, huh?" he said, sounding anything but embarrassed.

"No worries. I could stand here all day and watch you two eat each other's faces if it's not so weird,"

"It's weird," Pelham stated.

She shrugged. "Unfortunately,"

"You're back so soon. And Aunt Fab," Lucio sighed, closing his eyes, "ew."

"I'm not the one wrapping my legs around a boy's waist and-"

"I'm out of here," Lucio threw his hands up, making to head out of the kitchen.

"Wait - so you're not gonna make your sandwich?" Pelham asked, following him.

"Pretty sure he's had enough of his appetite filled!" Aunt Fabia called as soon as they were in the living room. Lucio could faintly hear her snigger. I can make my damn sandwich later. Really, he didn't want to admit that he'd already had his appetite filled over the course of who knew how long he and Pelham had been making out.

Lucio plopped down onto the nearest couch, stretching his legs before him. "Not gonna do some extra revision?" asked Pelham, taking a seat beside him.

"No, thanks. My brain's not capable of it," said Lucio, resting his head on Pelham's shoulder.