|Stuck In Denial
Author: Linq PM
Luke is your typical emo kid stuck in the popular group who refuses to believe that he's gay. Aaron is a mysterious nerd-that-isn't-really-a-nerd who came out of nowhere one night, at a wild party. Poor Luke can't help but be attracted to him. SLASHRated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Humor - Chapters: 3 - Words: 20,043 - Reviews: 8 - Favs: 12 - Follows: 17 - Updated: 07-15-12 - Published: 03-24-12 - id: 3007784
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
All I wanted to do was go home. I mean seriously? A party full of drunkard idiots throwing each other into the pool? That's not fun! Well, to me it wasn't, at least. I liked the quiet and I liked calm surroundings.
Like usual, I was sitting right at the back. Ok, I know, I'm a real recluse when it comes to these sort of things but I really needed to get away from the crowds.
Too many girls, too many boys.
Well usually people, for me, weren't too much of a problem, but these people were just... Idiots. I don't know why I got myself dragged into coming here. Reece talked me into it. I shouldn't have listened to him.
Reece was a bit of a player. Every day of the week he had yet another girl. He might as well have had them renamed Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and so forth. Me? Not so much. Sure, I found some girls attractive and everything, but... I don't know, I just never seemed that interested.
Reece talked about sex a lot. I didn't know when, but I knew a long time ago that he'd given up his virginity to some chick with 'big tits and a nice ass', as he told me. I know that most guys found that "hot" and whatever, but I didn't. She was obviously some disgusting slut with herpes.
"Ay! Lukey!" Someone called out; His voice was slurred, but you could hear a grin through the thickness of speech. I turn my head just as Reece came and scruffed my carefully spiked black hair with his large, clumsy hand. I grumbled a curse at him and attempted to fix the mess he'd made. "Look, I know you ain't ever looked at a girl's body in person, let alone touched it," He sounded more stupid than what he normally did, when he was drunk. "And I know you're a bit shy about it, but... I think these ladies may change your mind about that..." He said with a sly grin.
I hadn't noticed his hands which were tucked behind his back. He brought them out to reveal he was holding hands which belonged to two other girls.
One had bleach blonde hair, face packed with makeup and clothes that left barely anything to the imagination: A boob tube hung so low her breasts nearly flopped out and a denim mini skirt so short you'd nearly be able to see those lacy g-strings she wore without her even bending over.
The other had dry looking black hair with purple streaks ribboned through. I could have said that she gave shame to the 'emo style' but she wasn't the worst I've seen. Her face was so white it looked as if she painted it that way and around her eyes, thick streaks of charcoal were scribbled, bringing all attention to her blue-green eyes. She wore black short shorts and a tight black bustier that was pretty much all lace, apart from the thin piece of material to hide the peaks of her breasts.
… Maybe she was Goth? Slutty Goth….
By looks, the two girls were complete opposites, but what brought them together was the fact that they were both attracted to douchebag's like Reece and that they both wore slathered-on drunken smiles.
Reece was more than happily holding both the girls around the waists, inviting them to rub themselves against his side, or, at least the blonde one was. The goth/emo girl had kept her eyes on me, nearly ignoring Reece as he and that blonde were basically having dry sex on the spot, yet she was still hugging his broad shoulder.
I didn't care that the blonde girl didn't even acknowledge me the same way she'd acknowledged the dirt under Reece's shoes, but the goth/emo girl was already beginning to shit me and the only idea why I believed she was staring at me the way she was, was because I'm probably the only other thing closest to 'emo' here.
People believed that I was emo because my hair was black (except the colour was natural) and that I liked to spike mine wherever – sometimes the back, sometimes the front, sometimes the sides- it didn't matter. I just liked spiking my hair. I was more than fond of large buckles, studded belts and wrist bands, once last year even a choker (but I thought that was a little lame so I took it off), and I loved my skinny jeans – black, grey or blue. Didn't matter.
I did, honestly, love the emo style and everything about it, but the one thing that annoyed me the most was the stereotype that all emo kids cut themselves. Reece was constantly asking me if I did or he'd accuse me of it and look for razor blades if he ever came over. Idiot. He didn't care about my wellbeing or mental state, he just wanted to hold something against me for whenever I won an argument with him or whatever, for blackmailing purposes.
I frowned at Reece's offering. "I think I'll pass. I feel sick. I might just go home…" I said.
As Reece feigned disappointment, the blonde began to imitate a cow as she chewed noisily at the blue piece of gum in her mouth. She caught my grossed-out gaze and gave me a dirty look and a scrunch of her orange tanned nose before she split her sight away from me and back over to Reece.
'That's right. You look away, bitch.' I wanted to say, but I refrained from doing so.
"Aww, c'mon Lukey! I've got two girls here who want to get to know you personally, if you get what I mean" He winked.
I rolled my eyes. "They look more interested in you, Reece." I just wanted him to leave me the fuck alone.
"Alright, but I know one of these girls is into bondage and you know how fun that can get..." He hinted with a wink.
I stared blank-faced at him. I was trying not to show how annoyed I was at him, the girls, this party and everyone else who was in it. "No, I wouldn't know. I'm a virgin!" I snapped at him, ruining my mask of 'cool calmness' immediately.
….Was it just me, or did it suddenly get quieter in here?
I felt the blood rushing to my cheeks as I noticed the silence wasn't just a coincidence. I turned my head and noticed a few people staring at me... And laughing?
The blonde girl didn't seem that shocked as she gave me a 'I-could-already-tell' smirk. The emo/goth girl curled her upper lip up in what I couldn't tell as either a smirk or a smile… Probably the former.
"I'm sure I'm not the only virgin in here!" I declared, spinning around, facing all the other teenagers clustered around the room.
As I heard a few kids snickering, that's when I'd decided once and for all that I was leaving right until-
"Alright!" Reece's voice boomed as he grabbed my shoulder tightly and quickly steered me into the next room which turned out to be a study.
"You, Luke, need to stop announcing to the world that you are a virgin." He told me, keeping his arm wrapped around my thin-in-comparison shoulder as he strolled around the abnormally long room – forcing me to come along with him.
"Why?" I retorted. A mixture of sulkiness and annoyance infected my words as I spoke. I wasn't upset about my lack of experience in bed; hell, I was proud of it. At least I wasn't like those sex-obsessed sheep making like bunnies in my hole of a town. Besides- nowadays, being a virgin was very unique- it was almost like being a unicorn! Heh. Call me 'Luke-The- Unitard'.
"Why? Because it's fucking embarrassing! That's why!"
Reece wasn't the best choice to consider as a best friend. I was probably just a disposable tool to him; If I ever caused him wrongdoing, he could click his fingers and there'd be a replacement within seconds. Despite everything, he knew I wasn't a fan of him and I'd assume the same coming from him… Sometimes I wondered why he still hung out with me. I suppose stayed friends with him because he was the only person who I really knew. Reece was a complete douche, an asshole and extremely arrogant but he still treated me with a higher level of respect then the rest of the people in our group of 'friends'. That was why he was my best friend. Sounds pretty sad doesn't it?
"Why do you care?" I snapped.
"Because you're my mate and I'd like to save you from social suicide!"
"Social suicide, my ass! This isn't about me, it's about your reputation. I'm not a liar. I wouldn't lie about my virginity just for your sake."
He rested his forehead in the palm of his hand and sighed. "Alright! You don't have to lie for me, It's not like they'll think that I'm a pussy, anyway." He stormed out of the room with those words, leaving me as angry as an escaped lion from a zoo - and I'd assume they'd be pretty pissed about being locked up behind bars for nothing, their entire lives. I knocked a book off the table, yeah, I know, a book, but it was the only thing in range and I wanted to take my anger out on something.
I left the room, pushing through a bunch of drunken party-goers to get to the front door. The people didn't seem to care, or even notice that I accidently shoved them into one another. I just kept going, pushing people aside until I reached my goal. I reached out to turn the knob of the front door, but before my fingertips could even touch the gold polished metal, a hand came in front of it and then a body to block my escape from this pit of hell.
"Whoa, what do you think you're doing?" He said.
I looked up to see the face of the teen that was in my way. It was about as square and as flat as a brick and his hair was a bright orange fuzz that stuck out wildly on his head. His skin was as pasty as chalk and was dotted with freckles everywhere you looked – even his green eyes - they were flecked with gold. He wasn't exactly the most attractive kid on the block but for some strange reason, the girls couldn't help but to hang off his shoulders. That was probably due to the fact that he was, y'know, rich. Otherwise he'd have been ignored and made fun of for being a redhead. You know what they say, 'Gingers have no souls' or 'Ranga's are the brothers of Orangutans' and he just proved it by blocking my path out the door.
I glared daggers at him. I was hoping some small spot of fear would appear and fester in his stomach so he'd end up on his knees, trembling, and never bothering me again, but height had a status, whether I liked it or not. He was tall and broad shouldered whereas I was just the 'Average Joe' with average height, average build, average – wait - normal features. I held nothing over him. He could knock me to the floor with just a flick of his wrist, if he wanted to.
"Leaving." I stated with a dark tone, hoping it'd add to the aura of 'scariness' I was hoping to build. I don't think it worked because he just raised an eyebrow at me and let a huge smirk crawl across his lips. Was he mocking me?
It could have been my imagination again, but I think the room just went dead silent. Even the music throbbing in the background seemed to go still.
"Ooh" He echoed, looking around the room, trying to grab everyone's attention before he burst into laughter. "Pussy has claws!" He curled his fingers and clawed at me, imitating a cat as he screeched out a "Reow!" He looked so stupid but people began to laugh.
"…Says the one acting like a cat." I wasn't ever that good at comebacks and this wasn't my best at all. I knew what he meant when he called me 'pussy' so I probably just made a dick of myself in front of everyone.
He laughed. Reece laughed. The girls laughed. Everyone else joined in. Dammit. I'm not looking for love and affection from anyone, nor am I an attention seeker – normally – but it's just a blow to your ego when people laugh at your stupidity.
"I guess you can't help it, though. You're drunk and well… a pussy." I quickly added, hoping it'd tape up that mess I just made before.
The taller teen suddenly dropped his laughter in abrupt flash and twisted his lips and snarled. "Don't you dare talk to me like that, Luke-Shannon the-fucking-loser!" He shoved my shoulders backwards with his big meaty hands. My sneakers slipped and I fell and made a rough landing on my back, to the floor. The wind was knocked out of me and my lungs were on fire.
"You may be friends with Reece, but that doesn't mean jack shit to me. You come to my house, to my party, and you act as if you own the place! You're looking to get your head smashed in!" He growled, towering over me.
In the background, I heard echoing of voices – "Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!"
I didn't remember this guy's name, I soon came to realise but he knew mine and I wouldn't be able to stand a chance to this big red tank if we fought and we probably will, too. If the police found me in the gutter all battered and bleeding, I wouldn't be able to tell them a thing because for one, I don't know this guy's name and for two, I'd probably end up having brain damage!
I sneered at him and climbed back up onto my feet. I could already feel my hands beginning to shake as adrenaline mixed with fear pumped into my veins. I wasn't about to apologise to him for anything, either, as I began to speak to him. "Hey, whatever-your-name-is, I've really got to get home. I've got a life I need to get back to and I don't need a hangover accompanying me."
The chanting of 'Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!" only got louder as I climbed back onto my feet.
The red head looked around and grinned. He out stretched his arms and cracked his knuckles. "The name is William. You can call me Billy, everyone does. And I understand that you've gotta get home to your mummy and drink a nice hot cup of tea and cry to her about how your life sucks, but before you get back to that mess you call a 'life', I'm just going to give the crowd what it wants!"
Everyone cheered as he lashed out at me and he shoved me backwards again, jabbing me right in the ribs and I fell. Hands grabbed and pulled at me from behind, touching me and prodding me. People were laughing, snickering, cheering. Dread began to drop in the centre of my stomach. People were holding me still and the more I tried to tug them away, the tighter the restraints got. Screams and laughter were piercing both my ear drums and sweat began to salt my skin.
"Fuck." I muttered as he stormed up to me, drawing his clenched fist back before he shot his arm out and punched me right in the gut.
The bodies of the teenagers soon cleared away as I impacted against the hard floor with a loud thump and a rattle of the buckle and the studs on my belt. I skidded until I found myself at the corner of a wall, smacking my head against it. I saw people beginning to surround me, in my slight daze. A girl with long black hair, a boy with bright red hair and a face covered in piercings, a bunch of guys on the football team still in their football colours, groups of people covered in tattoos, and another guy who styled his black hair almost like mine. Billy's laugh was what was drawn out most throughout the noises of gasps, more laughter, yelling and screaming. His footsteps were loud and heavy, shaking the floorboards as he stepped up towards me. I couldn't move. I was coughing and spluttering, hands shaking, head spinning, pain vibrating and stinging and burning throughout my entire body. He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and dragged me to the centre of the room again. I felt weak and weary after that one punch but I managed to untangle his fingers from my shirt and jump to my feet. Pain still shook through me as I faced him. It'd be social suicide if I just run off now but it would just be suicide if I didn't.
Billy was about to say something to me to provoke me further but another voice cut in.
"Give it a rest, Billy! You've done enough. Leave the poor guy alone."
"Fuck off, fag!" He spun around and glared at someone in the ring of teenagers surrounding us. The room was silent until a few members from the football team pushed him out. He was tall with dyed black hair, black skinny jeans and a red flannel shirt. I didn't know who he was and I didn't get why he was sticking up for me but I was internally praising him and thanking him all the while.
The teen ignored Billy's comment and stepped further in the ring, towards me. "Thanks" I mouthed and he grinned.
"Oh The Lord loves me tonight. Two fags for me to fuck up." Billy yelled out gleefully.
"Billy!" Yet another voice called out, female this time. "Don't say 'fag' it's not nice and don't you remember, I'm like.. bi!"
Billy laughed. "It's ok for you, because you're a girl!"
Anger was burning through me. What I wouldn't do just to grab a mallet out of thin air and smash him to the floor. Instead, a hand grabbed my shoulder and a forceful shove pushed me through the crowds and out the door. The other teen boy who just saved me from my untimely death handed me a bottle.
"It'll help you deal with the pain of that punch." He told me. "You're limping."
"Thanks." I said and took a deep sip, suddenly screwing my face up from the flavour. "Uggh, yuck. This is beer."
"At least it's not a date rape drug. You drank it without even thinking about it, so I did nothing wrong!"
He was right, I suppose. I continued drinking and felt the warmth from the alcohol slowly take my mind off the ache throbbing through my belly.
"I've got more of that in my car, if you need it."
I didn't remember much after that. I didn't even remember how I got home. I could remember my parents yelling at me, though: "Luke! We trusted you! We trusted you not to drink at these sort of events!" My mother screamed.
"I'm highly disappointed in you, Luke Shannon." My father scolded.
The majority of it was just a restless blur. I didn't even remember finally collapsing on my long-awaited-for bed, either, but I could remember waking up with one of the biggest migraines I'd ever experienced.
I sat up, clutching my forehead with a groan. My eyes were blurry and my head was spinning and aching. The light in the room which drowned me in an endless sea of yellow was no help, either. I roughly fell back into bed, wincing at how my head shook with pain. I moaned into the pillow and tried my hardest to remember any facts from the night before that I may have forgotten, but most of them were foggy.
I ended up sleeping away most of the day and some of the next, which turned out to be Sunday. My sister usually had netball on this day and my parents always forced me to come and watch, no matter how sick I was or what the weather was like. For once, they hadn't woken me. I still had the house to myself when I did wake though. I had about an hour till they came back, at most, anyway. I didn't always have the house to myself, but when I did I didn't really know how to live it up before they got home.
I could have had a wank in the lounge room...but...for one, I wasn't in the mood and for two, it costed, like, twenty bucks to watch a porn on Austar and I wasn't that creative to imagine any sort of situation. For three, It'd be too much cleaning up in the end and fifth, strangely, girls doing things with other girls wasn't something I exactly enjoyed, if you get me.
I sighed and trudged into the bathroom. I tore off a pair of black skinny jeans that refused to un-cling themselves from my legs and a black tee shirt with a red spidery design on the front that was a size too big for me, then I stared at my reflection, blank minded for a few seconds.
My eyes were blue and underneath, my skin had clearly marked dark circles underneath them and my skin just looked… pale. My hair was an indescribable mess, and then I just noticed something in else in the mirror: I had strange welts on my neck! I studied them closer, panicking about what they were! They weren't there a couple of days ago! They just appeared! Marks don't just appear on your neck, though!
I tried to examine the marks further, brushing the rest of my thoughts away. I leaned into the mirror till my face was the size of a hub cap and checked out my bare neck and it took me minutes before I finally came to one conclusion. They had to be… hickeys. Dear god. That is so… so gross!
I stepped back and could have fainted at the size of the massive blue, purple, green and brown bruise that marred my entire stomach that caused me to completely forget about the purple hickeys that will probably scar my neck for the rest of my life.
"This is bad." I gaped.
My heart rate began to flutter and I began to grow dizzy out of nervousness. I hoped to the high heavens that I didn't do anything I shouldn't have. I remembered Reece trying to talk me into joining him with a bondage-obsessed girl and some other girl for a foursome, this bruise and these hickeys could have been a result of that. Did I actually fold to him for once? But then I suddenly remembered who's party I was actually at; Billy's- and we got into a fight… I didn't even remember how the fight ended, who won, how that person won! In fact, I probably lost because he's a big fat giant.
Something clattered outside the bathroom and then I heard a voice. My heart stopped in place and I quickly snapped my vision outside the door, eyes wide. Shit. The family is home. I felt frozen to the spot, my hand covering the massive bruise, but they hadn't seen me yet. I still had time to thaw myself out and slam the door shut. I didn't want them to see me like this, staring at myself naked with a big-ass bruise and hickeys all over me – god knows how I got them – because then they'd ask me questions, get suspicious and I'd be fucked because I wouldn't know what to say. The sound of footsteps got louder and with a quick jerk, I slammed and locked the door shut.
Half an hour later, the thick white steam began to clear away as I stepped out of the shower. I waved some of it away as I made my way towards the window and pushed it all the way open, getting myself a breath of fresh air. As the room finally became clear for my vision, I wiped the fog off the mirror. I shook my hair like a dog would have, spraying warm droplets of water in every direction possible and the first thing that caught my eye as soon as I saw myself in the mirror, again, was four, decent-sized hickeys marring the flesh of my throat and collar bone. On my chest, they were scattered around in spots of red and darkened purple. They were small, but quite visible. I was too distracted by the bruise earlier to actually notice how many of them there were, but now I couldn't see my bruise under the remainder of this fog on the mirror. My parents wouldn't see the bruise either, because my shirt would hide it, but I wasn't so sure about the marks on my neck.
I swallowed as I imagined a few scenarios of my parents' reaction to seeing them then my sister's, and then how they got there in the first place.
Sighing, I grabbed my towel and rubbed it through my hair. It hung over my eyes when it was wet or when I barely did anything with it. It was long enough to hang just on my shoulders, but those were the longer, thicker locks. I pulled a clean grey t-shirt over my head, following with my blue jeans. I knew the shirt wouldn't hide anything as it didn't have thick a collar and was cut just around my collarbone, revealing the entirety to my neck.
'Great choice, Luke.' I scolded myself in my mind.
I picked everything of mine up off the floor and opened the door, only to be greeted by my sister, Rebecca. Rebecca is my identical twin, but in features only were we similar as our personalities were the exact opposites. She was wearing her netball uniform; black shorts and a purple silk shirt with the number 3 printed on the back along with her nickname and the name of her team; Obliterators. Wrapped around her neck was a fresh towel and in her arms were clean clothes. She was frowning at me.
"Well, look who's finally gotten up. You didn't drink too much, did you?" She asked. You could literally hear the frown in her voice.
I rolled my eyes. "Bec, I leave me alone. And no, I didn't drink too much." That was obviously a lie. Not long after I'd gotten home, I remembered that I puked everywhere in the bathroom, and that was only because the smell lingered there when I went to use it the next morning.
"But you slept through most of yesterday."
"You are an idiot." She grumbled, pushing past me to get into the bathroom. Rebecca, generally, was a very caring sister. We usually got along well, as far as brothers and sisters go, but she definitely loved to see me get in trouble… most of the time.…And she'd take any chance she had to call me an 'idiot', which despite my not-so-bad grades, I probably was, due to the amount of opportunities she found.
I jutted my tongue out at her. "I may be an idiot, but you're still a carpet muncher!"
She screwed her face up at the thought, obviously having a mental image or her eating some… er, carpets… If you get what I mean. "You're not just an idiot, but you're also a knob jockey!" She then laughed, pushing me out of the bathroom with as much force as she could muster and slammed the door shut. I stumbled forward a few steps before I regained my balance.
"Vaginamite licker…." I muttered. 'Vaginamite' was a word I liked to think I made up. It was a combination of 'vagina' and 'vegemite'- the delicious spread you put on bread… Heh, I'm a poet and didn't even know it…
Soon, I found myself mindlessly wandering to the loungeroom, probably drawn to the television or something. Both my parents were sitting on the long lounge together; the TV was off. Usually when the TV was turned off in my household, it meant that shit was going down. My parents' were probably discussing something, like my punishment for coming home drunk when I promised them I wouldn't. My mother looked at me with eyes holding an unfamiliar glow to them while my father looked stern. I knew they were still mad at me, even if the party had been a few days ago, but I broke curfew and came home blind drunk and off my face. Memories were coming back to me about all the stuff I got up to but everything else was just like an out of focused photograph that showed nothing but a smudge of colours. My stomach churned.
"Good… morning.." I greeted, fingers twisting at the hem of my shirt.
"Luke." Dad nodded. His voice was heavy and thick as he spoke.
Yet again, my stomach churned. I knew this wasn't going to be good. The silence dragged on for at least thirty seconds, but it felt longer than that. The tension was pulling at me like some sort of taut wire string, and it was making me feel nothing but ill. I didn't like to wait for punishments. I always wanted things to be over and done with, but I was such a procrastinator, that I never let myself fall into their hands until they initiated something first.
I watched with nervous eyes as my father leant over to my mother to whisper something in her ear. A slow nod sent tresses of brown hair bouncing in soft curls above her shoulders before her eyes fell upon mine. My father suddenly spoke, pulling me out of my observant stare.
"Luke," He began, voice quavering in the slightest. His lips tightened and he scrunched his eyebrows together. He looked conflicted about something. Probably didn't know how to punish me. I wasn't really expecting much of a punishment. I normally just got grounded for a few weeks or sometimes I had my electronics like my phone or laptop confiscated. It sucked, but compared to some people I know, it wasn't too bad of a punishment.
"Yes, dad?" I forced myself to speak as easily and casually as I could.
Dad rubbed his temples. "Luke," He repeated my name. I could sense how he didn't know where to begin, which was odd for him because he was normally quite lingual, being a journalist for the local newspaper and all. He sighed. "You're sixteen years of age and sixteen is a big age. It's a time where hormones begin to scatter around and lead you into confusing stages of your life."
"Dad… I've already hit puberty. My voice broke two years ago." I supplied dryly.
"No, I know that, that's not what I was getting at…" He grumbled. "Just let me finish." Another deep sigh later…. "It's just… You're nearly a man, and men have urges sometimes, but-"
Oh god no. This is 'The talk'. Oh. God. No. I can't sit through this. No, this is far too awkward. A deep red blush burnt its way across my cheeks.
"DAD!" I snapped. "It's not- ugh, no! I'm still a virgin! I'm not interested in that! I – I don't even think about – not with girls, not with-" My words died in my throat, but my jaw continued to quiver up and down. I didn't even know what to say.
"Does that mean… Oh my…" Mum whispered, holding her hands in a loose fist to her lips. Her expression read shocked. She looked over to dad with widened eyes, dad returned her gaze.
"It doesn't mean it's true, we could have-"
"What? What's true?" I cut in. This was becoming a really confusing conversation.
Dad's lips tightened before his gaze slid over to me. "Are you-"
"Gay." Mum finished.
My jaw dropped. If it were possible, it would have touched the ground. "What? What the hell brought all this on?" I exclaimed, voice raising loudly just showing the world how embarrassed I was feeling. My blush was burning brighter, I knew it.
I didn't know whether it was right to feel embarrassed about that, but I didn't know what to make of my parents accusing me of being gay! Was I supposed to feel insulted? Or is it not normal for me to feel panicked about this sudden topic bring-up they've given me?
"It's ok! There's nothing wrong with being homosexual! It's perfectly ok!" My mother leapt up from her seat and pulled me into a tight embrace. I let myself get crushed into her chest like I was some limp ragdoll. After a while, I realised she wasn't about to let me go, so I had to gently nudge her off.
"What gave you the idea that I'm gay?" I asked, unable to help myself from snapping in the process.
Dad stood from the seat, standing behind mum. "Friday night, after you'd gotten home from the party."
I felt dread spill into my gut like sulphuric acid, melting me and turning me into nothing but a puddle of goo on the floor. There were many things I did not remember about that party but I didn't think much of it. I took nothing into serious thought about what the fuck I did, so what did I do? I didn't lose my virginity to a guy, I fucking hoped. I hoped that I didn't even touch any guy! Or girl, for that matter. Absent minded, my fingers brushed against my neck and I felt the raised, swollen skin of a hickey right on my jugular vein. Those hickeys spoke against my hopes louder than any bell could ring to alert students of their break finally ending. I knew a guy must have given them to me.
"You came home with another boy. One about your age. I'd never seen him before." Dad informed me, tearing me from my train of thought.
My stomach began to hatch butterflies infested with the black plague. "And?" I squeaked.
Before I could even yell out GODZILLA IS GOD,my father roughly pulled at the collar of my shirt, revealing my neck covered in splotches of purples and pinks.
"These!" Dad jabbed at the largest one causing a spurt of pain to slip into me and make me wince. "Both of you were covered in them!"
"Well! Th-that doesn't mean-"
"You two were holding each other! I swear I saw you both kissing at some stage! What wouldn't give us the impression that you're a… a fag." He used the 'f' bomb a little hesitantly, but none-the-less, it already made me feel sick.
I didn't even realise or understand why I suddenly felt like crying when my eyes narrowed at him and my stomach tightened. My chest was burning from the speed my heartbeat was reaching. "Dad…" I bit my tongue as I realised my voice cracked. Fuck. I didn't want to go all emotional about this. "I was drunk, I don't even remember any of this."
My mother glared at my father. "Your father doesn't mean you harm by saying that, honest, Luke." She spoke pleadingly, as if she knew I was already getting upset by this and was trying to avoid making things worse. Nice try, mum. "We love you all the same, even if you are a homosexual! You're still my son and I'll accept you all the same, even if you like dressing in a monkey suit and living in the zoo! It won't matter!" She grabbed and squeezed my hand, weaving her fingers through mine.
I think I needed to sit down. "That doesn't mean I'm gay, though. I don't even think I'm attracted to guys. Hell, I'm not really attracted to girls, either. Maybe I'm asexual?" I slowly sat on the couch.
"Well, that's really up to you..." Said dad. I felt his weight press against the cushions of the couch beside me. He patted my shoulder. "I'm sorry about the 'fag' comment." Despite his apology, his tone was thick and gritted.
Mum was still holding onto my hand. "Just remember, your father and I will always love and support you, no matter what your life choices are." She told me. I still didn't feel comforted with mum's words.
I bit my lip as a new wonder curled into my mind. "What did this guy look like?"
I might have known him… If not, I'm sure Reece did. He knew everybody.
Mum's lips twisted as she chewed them. I knew that meant she was thinking, because she always did that. The habit annoyed me more than it annoyed her. "I can remember dark hair... And pale skin. He reminded me of a trend the kids are getting into these days, or so I've read about… what's it called, again? Emu? Anyway, that's all I can remember."
"I remember grey eyes." My dad added. "So grey they were almost silver."
I found this story on my laptop not too long ago and I remembered that I wrote this about two or three years ago and completely forgot about it. I edited it a little (Ok, a lot) so I hope it's up to standard and is easy to read. I've written about six other chapters for it, too, but they need a lot of work.
I posted this as a test to see what people think of it and my writing style. Hope you enjoyed!