Chapter One

“Are you taking Cassandra?” I asked Deacon as I brushed a clump of dark blonde hair out of his face.

Deacon gave me one of his looks. One of his, “Why are you doing this?” looks. He knows why I do it. To make him realize he’s making a mistake.

“Yes,” he answered stiffly, pushing past me out of the bathroom stall. He made it to the sinks, where he whirled around and stared at me defiantly. “Why do you want to know? Are you jealous?”

I rolled my eyes. He knows I am. “No,” I told him, “Why would I be jealous?”

“Because she’s the one who gets to have me all night and not you,” Deacon replied, turning his back on me. I stared up at the ceiling as I heard one of the sink taps get turned on.

“I’m boycotting Prom,” I reminded him, leaning my back against the wall of the bathroom and propping up one of my feet behind me.

The water turned off and Deacon turned back around. “I don’t understand you,” he said to me, taking his place next to me on the wall and clasping one of my hands in his.

“That’s part of the charm, isn’t it?” I asked him, not really caring about his response.

Deacon didn’t say anything. He merely pushed himself off the wall and stood in front of me, his face not two inches from mine.

“You’re not that charming,” Deacon said, pecking me on the lips one last time before taking off for the door.

I continued leaning against the wall of the bathroom staring at the door from which Deacon had just exited.

---

“Ridge!”

I ignored the voice and kept walking towards the exit of the building. It was the end of the school day, and I couldn’t have been happier. Now all I had to do was meet my older brother outside the school and we’d go home.

Unfortunately, Jen caught up with me and made me stop walking. She turned me around and glared at me with fierce, violet eyes.

“I swear, the next time you pretend not to hear me, I will castrate you!” Jen threatened me, poking me in the chest with her pointer finger to get her point across.

“Yup, thanks for that, Jen,” I told her, smiling at her with my brightest smile, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Wyatt’s waiting for me. Can’t you just call me later?”

My best friend managed to smirk at me before fidgeting with the collar on her American Eagle polo. “Sure,” she conceded, “I’ll call you in an hour or so, alright?”

“Looking forward to it,” I told her, before raising my hand in farewell and taking off towards the exit once more.

I saw my brother Wyatt standing close the sidewalk talking to a few of his football player friends. I wolf-whistled at them to get their attention. Wyatt turned around and glared at me.

“What?” I asked innocently, walking over to their little group, and leaning my head against Wyatt’s shoulder. He promptly pushed me off.

“I can’t drive you home,” Wyatt said to me quietly.

“Continue…” I said slowly.

“Practice,” he responded, turning back to his friends who were looking at us with amused expressions on their faces.

I grabbed hold of Wyatt’s jacket by the hood and pulled him off a few feet away. I sent daggers at him with my eyes before finally spitting out, “Don’t fuck with me.”

Wyatt rolled his eyes, not unlike the way I do. “I’ve got practice, I told you.”

“Not for another hour,” I told him, “Get your ass moving and take me home.”

“Get one of your friends to take you home,” Wyatt told me, making his way back to his friends.

“Who?” I asked incredulously.

As fate would have it, at that moment, Deacon was making his way toward his car parked a block down the street. I knew that Deacon had noticed me out of the corner of his eye, but Deacon kept walking. Apparently Deacon preferred to keep our contact outside of the bathroom minimal so as to not raise suspicion. I thought this was complete bullshit, however, seeing as how everyone, even the people in school with the best gaydar, thought that we were just as straight and narrow as the next person.

Seeing as how Wyatt was determined not to give me a ride home, my gaze followed Deacon as he left the school gates. I took off at a run after him. However, as I got closer, Deacon’s pace quickened.

“He must have eyes at the back of his head,” I muttered to myself, beginning to run faster.

Deacon’s fast-walk was no match for my run, and I caught up with him easily. I ran around in front of Deacon and stopped, causing Deacon to halt.

“I need a ride,” I stated.

“You have a brother,” Deacon told me, attempting to sidestep me and keep walking.

“Really?” I asked, “I never knew that. And all these years I thought I was an only child…”

“Shut up,” Deacon snapped, stopping walking, “Find someone else to drive you home. I have shit to do.”

“Surely you don’t have shit to do,” I said, “I mean, it’s got to be important if you’re passing up an opportunity to make out with me one more time today.”

Deacon glared at me before saying icily, “Don’t say that so loud.”

I rolled my eyes. “There’s no one around. Yes or no?”

“Was this some plan you cooked up?” Deacon asked him, “Did you actually plan this out?”

The answer was actually no. It hadn’t been a plan concocted by me. However, I knew that Deacon wasn’t likely to pass up an opportunity for a make out session, and I still needed a ride home; if my house wasn’t too far to walk, I wouldn’t have bothered even asking Deacon.

Deacon looked conflicted. For a moment, we merely stood at a face-off, with Deacon’s forehead crinkled up in confused. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, Deacon nodded slowly and jerked his head in the direction of his car.

We walked side-by-side down the sidewalk until we came across Deacon’s car, a green 1998 Dodge Neon.

I had, surprisingly enough, never seen Deacon’s car before, and had to stifle a laugh. I wasn’t quiet enough though, and Deacon looked ready to throttle me.

“It was my sister’s,” Deacon explained, “It was this or nothing.”

“I’m not saying anything” I said laughing, holding up my hands in mock surrender.

I opened the car door to the passenger side and slid in the car seat. I took this moment to look around his car. Deacon kept it clean. There wasn’t any trash on the floor, unlike Wyatt’s car, and it appeared as though Deacon actually dusted it.

Deacon didn’t even bother to consult where to drive us. About five miles from the school, there was an abandoned cabin nestled in a small wooded area off the side of the road. You could still go back there, and the cabin wasn’t decrepit to the point where it could fall on you at any moment, but it still hadn’t been used for around four years (when the old renters moved), and there was no use for it. The owners of the property were trying to sell the land, with no takers. Until then, they didn’t really care what happened to the cabin; it was most likely going to be knocked down anyway.

Deacon wasn’t worried about his car being seen going down the gravel road to the cabin; it was often used as a place for Truth or Dare. A kid would dare another to spend various amounts of time in the cabin, ranging from twenty five minutes to three hours or more. Although everyone knew it wasn’t haunted, it was still fun to screw around with the kid stuck inside, like making scratching noises at the door or window.

When Deacon put his cark in park and turned off the ignition, I practically jumped out of the car, leaving my draw-string bag on the floor in the front seat. Deacon took his time.

I opened the door to the cabin and held it open for Deacon, who was busy stashing his car keys in his jeans pocket. Deacon took the door from me and shut it, locking it behind him. He pulled the curtains shut on the windows, just in case someone decided to stop in for an unexpected visit.

I took a seat on one of the armchairs that had been left behind when the couple that formally lived there left. It was dusty; mothballs covered the fabric and dirt had settled inside the material. What was once probably a cream or beige was now a dark brown.

Deacon didn’t sit down anywhere. He paced around the living room area of the cabin, sneaking glances out of the corner of his eye at me. I was waiting patiently, but I was starting to get annoyed.

“Are we going to do this or what?” I finally asked when I noticed a path of dust being cleared on the wooden floor from Deacon’s pacing.

Deacon nodded, walking slowly over to the couch and sitting down. I got up from my chair and sat down next to him, pushing the clump of hair that always fell into his face away from his eyes.

I was always the first person to make a move. I don’t know why, seeing as how out of the two of us, Deacon is probably more of the guy in the “relationship.” As much as that demotes my masculinity, I can’t lie. Besides, I can kick Deacon’s ass at soccer any day of the week.

Deacon looked like he permanently had a look of horror or worry or fright on his face. I’m not sure which emotion was strongest. I guess it was hard for Deacon, not coming to terms with himself and all. I had long since accepted what I was: gay. Of course, nobody knew about it. I wasn’t worried about what my family would say; my mom’s brother is gay and has been living with another man for fifteen years. It’s not like he got kicked out of the family or something. I talk to Uncle Bobby almost every week. I was more concerned about the reaction at school. Hamels High School isn’t exactly the warmest and fuzziest place to go to school. I only manage to get by because I’m a prep and have relatively good looks. Not that I’m much to look at when you pit me against Deacon.

Deacon waited for me to make the first move, like always. I leaned into him slowly, worried about scaring him. Deacon, surprisingly, met me halfway. Our lips met, and Deacon felt all too eager to me. Within seconds, he was prodding at my lips with his tongue. I opened my lips just a little to see if he took this as an invitation. He did. For a guy who’s supposedly straight, Deacon certainly enjoyed making out with another guy.

---

“Where were you this afternoon?” Jen asked me when I finally got home later that afternoon.

Deacon and I spent a good hour inside the cabin before we finally stopped. I didn’t want to go home looking like I just made out with someone, let alone a guy (how suspicious would it look if Deacon dropped me off at home and I looked like I had just had another person’s lips on mine and their hands in my hair?), so Deacon and I hung out in the cabin for another half hour, not talking. I sat there with my cell phone and played a game, and Deacon said their nervously tapping his fingers on his thighs.

“I…was hanging out with Deacon,” I said, proud of myself for not completely lying. Yes, Deacon and I weren’t just hanging out, but making out, but Jen didn’t need to know that. If I had my way, Jen never would know that.

“I need your help in English,” Jen stated to me. I heard her iTunes in the background. She had on some classic post-grunge rock from the 90s. If I do say so myself, that is probably the best era in music ever. Besides the 80s, that is.

“Sure,” I said, digging through my Under Armour draw-string bag for my Spanish folder. I hate Spanish. This was the last year I was going to have to take it. Senior year would be Spanish-free if I got my way.

“Oh, and Lindsay and Gavin are going to Prom together,” Jen told me.

Lindsay Stevens and Gavin McDowell are perhaps the biggest off/on couple at Hamels. The two have been going out since seventh grade off and on, and quite frankly, everyone loves it. They’re our source for drama. You know how it is… Drama is only fun when it happens to other people, and more often than not, Lindsay and Gavin have their fair share of drama. I’ve known both of them since elementary school. Gavin and I used to play in Little League together. Lindsay also happens to be Jen’s best friend, which means that I get all the juicy, sordid details that everyone else either doesn’t get or has to wait a while to get. Not that it matters. Much.

“Didn’t they break up yesterday?” I asked Jen, successfully laying my hands on the maroon folder that was squashed underneath my Algebra II book.

“Yeah,” Jen sighed, “But Gavin bought her a dozen roses and gave them to her at her locker this morning. You didn’t hear?”

“No,” I said, “I was in the library before homeroom this morning. I had an A and P quiz first period.”

“I think I failed,” Jen said, abruptly changing subjects to our Anatomy and Physiology class. We were two of seven juniors who had opted to take the class junior year instead of senior, which is when the majority of the students choose to take the class to get last-minute credits towards graduation. Both Jen and I had taken Honors Biology freshman year and Honors Chemistry sophomore year instead of Bio sophomore year and Chem junior year. We were officially done our science requirements, but because Jen is a nerd and I happen to have a lot of free time, we decided to take another class, basically for the hell of it.

“I’m sure you did fine,” I told her, rolling my eyes. Here’s one of my biggest pet peeves: Smart people who say they fail things, but you know that they aced or. Or, they fail it, but their failing grade is still better than yours.

“Yeah,” Jen sighed sadly, “Well, I got to go help my mom with dinner. See you in school tomorrow?”

“Count on it,” I responded, “Okay, see you tomorrow. Love you. Bye.”

“Love you too.”

I clicked the End button and shut my flip phone, throwing it at the bean bag chair next to my bed. It landed with a dull thud. I had just pulled out my Spanish worksheet for homework that night when my phone vibrated. I cursed myself for throwing down my phone and leaned over the side of my bed to grab it. I almost fell off in the process and cursed myself again for throwing my phone down so far away. I looked at the front screen lighting up and almost keeled over. I flipped open my phone.

“Deacon?” I said into the mouthpiece.

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Notice: No, in case you’re wondering, this is not going to be my new story. Well, not yet, anyway. I am still going to be posting for “Don’t Ask.” I will finish that story first! However, I just wanted to post this to see what kind of reaction there would be, and maybe get some feedback or suggestions… Just so you know, there IS a short prologue to this story, but I’m not sure if I’ll ever post it. If I do, it’ll end up most likely being mixed in with the story, just so you know what kind of back story there is for the characters of Ridge and Deacon. Anyway, thanks for reading, and I’d appreciate your comments!