Rich Bitch // malum & lashton

seventeen

"SO, GRANDAD, HOW ARE THE dogs doing?" Calum asked politely, taking a seat next to his grandfather's char that was fit for a king. He figured talking to him would calm his nerves.

"Tilly's kicked the bucket, I'm afraid," his grandad clasped his hands together and looked down at them, taking a moment of silence for his deceased dog. "I got a new dog from the pound the other day and called it Tilly Two."

Calum's grandfather had had four Tilly Two's throughout the time he'd known him. (He always adopted them old, hence why they were dying so much.) Nobody ever corrected him, though. It was like telling the King he was stupid. Joy always said that that was what happened when you got older, but Calum knew it was something more serious.

"Have you seen your grandmother around here, Billy? I can't seem to find her." He sighed. Billy was the tanned boy's cousin, and his grandmother died a couple of months ago.

"No, I haven't, Grandad."

Entrée was placed in front of him and Calum paled. One thing was for sure; he was not looking forward to main course. That was when Michael was serving the food. He knew that his mother would make Michael serve him, just to test him, and it would be so hard to ignore that.

"You okay, Cal?" Billy asked, taking a seat next to him and putting a hand on his back in concern, even though he didn't actually care.

"Y-Yeah, peachy, do you want this?" he gestured to his soup. "I can't eat."

"Just throw it away; it's just food." Just food. The Kiwi thought bitterly. Some people are starving for just food.

He put it neatly in front of him and looked around. Things were going to change soon. The spotlight would be on him. He felt sick. His hands were shaking. He wasn't used to being so far out of his comfort zone.

Main course was coming and Calum pushed a breath in and out. He tried to calm himself down. The tanned boy looked around again. They were all in perfect view in what they were about to see. Michael walked over.

"Grandad, do you like me?"

"Of course, Calum, you're the first son, when I die, most of my inheritance goes to you."

That was all Calum needed to hear. Michael's hand placed down the steak in front of him, giving him a tiny smile. It took him a second to register it. Adrenalin ran through him. "Michael," he said, scrambling to his feet, catching some people's attention.

He ran over to the pale boy and kissed him right in front of the whole rich bitch colony.

Everything stopped. There was dead silence. Michael had dropped the plates he'd been holding. Calum put his hands on the boy's face. Everybody watched, their eyes wide as saucers. There was a squeak of a chair scraping across the tiles.

"Calum Thomas Hood!" his name echoed, bouncing off the walls.

"I love you, Michael." Calum whispered, ignoring his mother. "I'm willing to lose all of this for you." he turned to everybody who looked like fish gasping for air. "Everybody," he announced. "Meet Michael Clifford; my boyfriend."

Michael was still frozen in shock. He felt like throwing up. "Get him out!" Mrs Hood yelled, pointing to him.

Calum didn't know what they did to Michael after that. Joy drove her son straight home in a fit of rage. If looks could kill, everything in her peripheral vision would be dead. When she parked, they sat there for a minute. She turned to him and slapped him straight across the face. It took him a while to respond.

"Do you know what you just did?" she said lowly as Calum nursed his cheek for a second. "Do you know how much that will cost me?"

"What — you're going to bribe them?" he said patronisingly. "Of course you would." He rolled his eyes, laying his head back on the headrest.