The Hell Lord's Prize

01

Gabriel's POV:

Mom always calls me her little angel. I don't know why, but she always says that I saved her and dad's relationship. Sure, I've seen films where a baby can fix everything, but I don't think things work like that in real life.

Her and dad have always been happy from what I know, but I've always felt like they try to hide things for me. There's no pictures of their lives before I was born, except for their wedding pictures and some honey moon pictures, but I don't really care to prod.

It's not important; my life is good enough as it is without trying to figure out how my parents were as young lovers.

"Gabriel! Sweetheart!" my mom calls from downstairs.

I get up from my bed and run down the stairs, finding my mom making lunch.

She always cooks, even though I'm more than capable of feeding myself. Not that I'm complaining, because food is food and I like food.

"Is dad coming home soon?" I ask, sitting at the counter and taking a huge bite out of the salami sub sandwich.

I love salami so much.

"He's got a big meeting," mom tells me, making herself a salad. "But he'll be there tonight, don't worry. Your dad wouldn't miss one of your games if he had both of his legs chopped off."

That brings a smile to my face, because I know my mom is right. There is no way in Hell that my dad would ever miss one of my lacrosse games. He's always been so supportive and encouraging of me, supporting my passions no matter what they are.

I really do have the best parents.

"Can I drive there separately?" I ask, trying to refrain from bouncing in my seat.

I'm a manly man, and manly men don't bounce in their seat like little kids. Nope, I'm a perfectly mature almost seventeen year old who's asking his mom if he can drive his car to his lacrosse game.

"Do you have a date you're not telling me about?" mom asks, winking at me.

I blush, looking away from her. "No."

"You're blushing."

"Because you're embarrassing me!" I exclaim, dropping my face into my hands. "And so what if I do? I'm a grown adult who can go out and date girls if I want."

Mom laughs at me. "You're almost seventeen, not eighteen, Gabriel," she says. "Why don't you finish lunch and go pack some extra clothes to change into for your after party when your team wins this game."

I grin. "Good plan," I say, putting my empty plate in the sink and running upstairs.

Truth is, I don't actually have a date. Yes, lots of girls like me and have definitely tried to shoot their shot with me, but I've never felt the same way, which is scary.

Girls are like starving vultures. They just jump on you and act like they've never eaten and apparently a guy's dick is some forbidden food that they want.

Which is super terrifying, because I've been cornered by a girls and they're crazy determined. I've had three offer to give me blow jobs in the hallway and seemed shock when I turned them down and ran.

So, no, I don't have a date or anyone to go out with after the game besides my teammates. Not that I want a date.

Girls freak me out.

But I'm not gay.

Nope.

I'm the most heterosexual man in this town. I mean, I drive a Jeep and play lacrosse. What's more manly than that?