⚠️⚠️

Peter is sitting on the couch with Angie asleep in his lap when I walk inside. "Mom and dad are home already?" I question in a whisper to not wake my sister, and take a seat on the La-Z-Boy. "I saw their car outside," I state.

"Yeah, um, they came home early because, um" He looks around nervously then wakes up Angie. She's hardly awake as Peter tells her to go to her bedroom. She mumbles something, grabs her baby blanket then slowly goes upstairs to her room.

When she's out of eyesight, I ask, "What the hell is going on? Why are you acting weird?"

"Reid," he starts off cautiously looking like he's about to tell me that one of our family members died. That's exactly how Grayson looked at me before informing me that the whole school knows about my relationship with him. Oh shit.

"What?" I ask getting suddenly very nervous, sitting at the edge of my seat. My palms start to sweat, so I wipe them on my thighs over and over. My mouth feels drier than a desert.

Please don't tell me what I know you're about to tell me.

"They know about you and Grayson," he states giving me that God awful, stupid, fucking sympathetic look on his face. That facial expression is all I've been seeing these past two days, and seeing it on my brother makes me sick to my stomach.

"Wha- what? What?" I repeat in a panic. "How? How do they know?"

Peter opens his mouth to speak, but our father cuts him off with a frightening tone as he enters the TV room with my mother following. "Where were you?" My dad demands an answer from me.

I stand up quickly at the sound of his voice and try not to piss myself. "I- I was at school. Sorry I'm a little late to get home," I apologize. Late because I was sucking my boyfriend's dick in the men's bathroom.

"Who just dropped you off?" He asks in a challenging way, daring me to lie to him.

I try to swallow the lump in my throat. "My friend," I answer vaguely. If my parents found out by someone telling them, then I can still deny it. My word against theirs, and I will deny it till my face is blue. If my parents have evidence, however, then... I'm fucked.

This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this isn't happening.

He nods, "Friend, huh?" Then he pulls something out of his pocket, unfolds it then holds it up to me. It's a picture of me and Grayson in Grayson's car. This one's different than the one posted in school.

This isn't happening.

The photo is us in the back seat of my boyfriend's car. You can't see Grayson's face; his back is to the camera, his head in between my legs, one hand on my thigh, the other helping him with the task one can assume he's performing on me. My face in the photograph is lustful and my left hand is in his hair while my right is lifting my shirt up just enough for Grayson.

I've never felt so exposed in my entire life. I feel physically sick, so I close my mouth- that had dropped to the floor when the picture was first revealed to me- to keep me from throwing up.

So, the person who took these pictures was really trying to destroy my life. Well, they succeeded. My life is over now.

"Is this the friend you're talking about?" My father condescendingly questions. My mother's sobbing silently into her hands.

"I can explain," I say in a panic, stepping closer to them.

"Explain? There's no need to explain when I can see what's happening in this picture!" He screams causing both my younger brother and I to flinch. "Which someone graciously left for me in the mailbox this morning. How long has this been going on, and don't you dare lie to me!"

"Not- not that long," I whisper, my voice shaking. Tears begin to well up in my eyes.

"Exactly how long is 'not that long?'"

"Just... just over two months," I confess shamefully. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. I was go-"

*WACK

A gasp (from my brother?) and more sobbing from my mother can only be slightly heard beyond the ringing in my left ear.

My left hand covers my cheek only brief seconds after my face is struck to the right. I'm not even too sure what just happened. Then the burning sensation and the tingling on the left side of my face intensifies. I glance at Peter, as if to know if he saw the same thing I felt. To know if what I think happened, actually happened. My brothers eyes are wide in alarm, his mouth is coved by his hand. He catches my glance, and I'm brought back to reality.

My father just slapped me in the face. My own father hit me.

I look up at him, a mixture of dismay and horror displayed on my face. I'm at a loss of words as I see not even a hint of regret in his eyes. My father's hands clench, crumpling up the photograph, and drops it on the floor.

"Dad..." Falls from my mouth in a disturbing awe form.

My mother finally looks up from her hands to face me for the first time. Mascara running down her face. She looks unsure and the slightest light of hope sparks up in me. Until she opens her mouth, "honey, you're just sick. We- we can get you help. All the help you need. And we'll-"

I shake my head, tears streaming down my face, "I'm not sick, mom," my voice cracks at the end. "This is who I am."

Her expression morphs into one of disgust."Get out," my mother demands, pointing to the front door. I step back as if she'd just stabbed me. Those two words from my mother hurt worse than any slap from my father.

And all hope of my parents supporting me burns to ash.

"Mom," Peter says, appalled, standing up from the couch.

"Stay out of this, Peter," our dad warns him with his eyes still on mine. "Get out of this house and never come back or break up with him. You and I both know this is just a phase."

The tears won't stop slipping down my cheeks. I shake my head, "This isn't a phase," my voice wobbly. "I'm in love with him," I tell them in a hushed voice.

My mother shakes her head and speaks,"If you're choosing him over our family—"

"I shouldn't have to choose!" I shout, my hands flying up in the air.

"Don't you dare raise your voice at your mother," my dad all but growls threateningly.

"Why does it matter who he's with?" Peter tries to reason and steps into the makeshift circle my parents and I created. "Grayson makes him happy, isn't that-"

"I said, stay out of this, Peter! Go to your room," our father yells viciously, spit flying out.

Peter opens his mouth, but I speak before he can make matters worse. "Go, Peter," I demand.

My brother looks between me and our parents, conflicted, but ends up going to his bedroom anyways.

When he's gone I say, "If I could change me, I would, but it's out of my control. I can't help how I feel. Do you think I want to like boys? I wish I fell in love with a perfect Catholic girl that meets all of your expectations, but I didn't. I fell in love with Grayson."

"You don't know what you're saying," my mom says, stepping closer to me and taking my hands. "We can fix that. I'll enroll you into this great therapy camp—"

"No, mom," I sigh in frustration and break away from her touch. I run my hands down my face. "You can't 'fix' me. I'm not broken. This is who I am. I'm still the same Reid."

"Except you're not! You're a homosexual!" My dad screams.

"You loving a boy is a sin; you'll go to Hell," my mother tells me, but not in the judgmental way. She tells me this as if it's the most factual thing known to man.

I can see in her face that nothing in this world could ever change her mind on the matter. The belief that a boy loving another boy will always be a sin through her eyes.

And yet, even after this realization, I still plead and hope for her love. How can I not? "You told me you'd love me no matter what." I murmur, crying endlessly. "You promised."

My mother shakes her head, tears streaming down her face as well. "This wasn't what I planned for you. I will not allow this. Leave or break up with him." She repeats dad's ultimatum.

I sallow the lump in my throat and nod as I wipe my tears. I decide not to respond cause, honesty, I don't think I could without sobbing uncontrollably.

So, I go upstairs to my room without another word from either parent. I grab my navy blue duffle back that was stashed on the top shelf of my closet. I begin packing. Peter walks into my room and shuts my bedroom door. "What are you doing?" He asks in a panicked tone.

"I'm packing," I tell him as I stuff t-shirts, jeans, pajamas, boxers, anything I need into my duffle bag. I don't even bother to fold them. I need to leave as soon as I can.

"Well, stop!" He yells as he knocks a pair of jeans out of my hands. I look at him incredulously. "You can't just leave!" My brother shouts. "They'll get over this—"

"No, they won't!" I shout at him then take a moment to breathe, trying to calm my nerves down when I see the hurt look on my younger brother's face. "I'm sorry, but I'm really trying to hold it together before I go into a full blown panic attack," I tell him as I pick my jeans up off the ground and stuff them into my bag.

"Where are you gonna go?" Peter asks, his tone still frantic.

"I don't know. Grayson's, hopefully," I say as I pull out my phone to text Grayson.

🥵

Today 3:55PM

Can I stay at your

place tonight?

"They're just worked up right now. Once they calm down, they'll realize how ridiculous they're being. I'll talk to them. It'll all work out," Peter tries to reassure me while I add more t-shirts into my bag.

I roll my eyes at my brother's naïvety. "Bullshit. Don't be stupid."

"Please don't leave," Peter begs, grabbing my wrist to stop me.

"I don't have a choice," I yank my hand free and go into my bathroom to collect my toiletries and my brother follows.

"Yes, you do!," Peter yanks the toothbrush I was about to put into a small, see-through zipper pouch, out of my hand. "Just break up with him—"

I snap at my brother, "I'm not breaking up with Grayson! I love him! Do you get that?! I am in love with Grayson! But you and everyone in this house doesn't know shit about what that's like! You think I want to go to some dumb-fuck therapy camp?! You don't fucking get it! Why would I want to stay here, when I'm clearly not welcomed?"

Peter's taken aback by my harsh words and I regret yelling at him. It's not Peter I'm mad at. "You stay because I'm here," he murmurs, looking as though he's about to cry.

I sigh, tiredly and grab my toothbrush back from him. Once I get the rest of my necessities, I walk back into my room.

Calmly, I say, "I'm sorry for yelling. I don't want to leave you, or Angie. But I don't want to live somewhere where I can't even be who I am because it's considered a sin."

My phone vibrates and I unlock it to check my messages.

🥵

Today 3:58PM

🥵 Of course.

Did somethik happen?

🥵 *something

I'll tell you when I

come over.

I pack is my hygiene stuff before I zip up my duffle bag. "Let me know when mom and dad aren't home tomorrow, and I'll come back and pack more," I tell Peter while squatting by the side of my bed to reach my extension cord that is tucked underneath my nightstand. I pull my phone charger free.

My brother scoffs, "This is so stupid."

I stuff the charger into the front pocket of the bugle bag. "Yeah, well that's our parents," I stand back up and face my younger brother. "Or your parents."

"Don't say that, Reid."

"Whatever," I swing my bag over my right shoulder. "I'll see you later," I tell him. Before I can make my way to my bedroom door, I'm pulled into a hug. "You're gonna make me cry again," I whisper while I hug my brother back. He chuckles then sniffles, also holding in a cry. "You know I'm not leaving forever, right? I'll be back in the morning to drive you to school."

He pulls away and quickly wipes his eyes. "I know. It just... won't be the same without you here."

That does it. My tears come loose again, but I quickly turn around in hopes that he won't catch me crying. "See you tomorrow," I choke out and leave my bedroom, no longer caring if he leaves the light on or the door open.

I rush down the stairs, grab my car keys off the counter, and am about to leave until my dad stops me.

"Don't think you're getting the car. I pay for that car. You made your choice by leaving your family for some boy," he says as if he's never been so repulsed by something in his entire life. "So you can find another way to get around."

I see Peter standing at the bottom of the stairs, his mouth slightly agape, but luckily doesn't add in his two sense. I don't even respond to my dad.

"Take care of her," I say to Peter as I toss him the car keys. He catches them.

"Reid," I hear my brother call me, hopelessly. But I've already turned around and slammed the front door shut behind me.

😬

I stopped once I reached the door and hesitated. I turned around a decided against meeting him. Stopping again, I contemplated. Ahh just go in, Justin! Taking an unsteady breath, I went back to the door.

As soon as I opened the door, I was pulled in and pushed up against a wall. "What took you so long?" Trent asked. I didn't get a chance to respond as his body was already pressed against mine, with his tongue in my mouth, as he kissed me.