NO Love Club (Boy × Boy) ✔

3) ONE STEP AHEAD.

Cole Walker’s POV

I slammed the door shut and dropped my backpack on my bed, as soon as I made it to the safety of my room. Everything from its poster-covered walls, the half-made sketches cluttering the tables and the unmade bed was a homely sight to me. It might have been the smallest bedroom in the house and also the messiest, but it belonged to me.

I turned on my old laptop. It wasn't actually that old, but it lacked RAM memory and couldn't run most of my newer games, so now I mainly use it for school work and music. It managed the latter so well I could blast my playlists loud enough to cause hearing damage to the entire block.

I put on my favorite album from a post-punk band called IDLES and slumped to lie on the bed. I let my eyes flutter shut, but the sunlight beaming through my eyelids made it impossible to doze off. So, with a heavy sigh, I eventually sat up and dug my phone out of my pocket.

X. It was all I typed on the search bar of my browser. You can probably guess it didn't give me the information I was after. Instead I found myself looking at some trailers for a new horror movie called X, and I doubt it had anything to do with the new guy. I tried adding our school's name after the X, but all I found was the website of the school.

I opened the website, as a futile attempt to find someone whose name starts with X, but that didn't give me much either. I rubbed my eyes with my hand, wondering what the hell I was doing. Surely what I was doing was staying one step ahead of my enemy and not stalking some new guy whose name I didn't know.

A knock on my door made me turn my head so fast my neck let out a complaint. When Chloe peeked from the door chink, she was frowning, a death glare in her glass framed eyes. I glared back at her, asking with my eyes: what now?

"Turn down the volume. You know how much mom hates your music." She hissed, leaning her side against the door frame and crossing her arms over her chest. I knew better than to let Chloe's shortness and sweet round face fool me, because her looks couldn't possibly have been more deceiving.

"I don't care what she thinks." I sighed, turning my gaze back to the screen.

I could hear a quiet klick when Chloe shut the door and then her footsteps closing the bed. She sat on the edge of my gaming chair and swirled it around to face me. With pursed lips and furrowed brows she regarded me, not saying a word before I lowered the volume and answered her gaze.

"You know she's trying. She's seeing a therapist and she's working on her issues. How long are you going to stay mad at her?" A black curl escaped from behind Chloe's ear and she tucked it back frustratedly.

"Yeah, but it's a bit late for Cody, or is it not?" I pointed out, hearing the bitter poison in my tone.

"He's better now, and he has forgiven her, so.." Chloe began to say the exact same things she has been telling me for two years.

"Cody would forgive even the ones who tormented him for years and put him in the hospital, so I wouldn't exactly use that as an indicator." My voice was starting to raise, and with it came the trembling.

"Here we go again." Chloe rolled her eyes. "There's no need to get all worked up."

"I'm not —"

"You're always angry. This music you listen to, the way you talk to mom and dad and the fights you get into. Seriously, this revenge-against-all-bullies thing needs to.." Chloe's voice trailed off as she sniffed, her eyes widening when she caught a familiar smell in the air: "Is that weed?"

"Declan smoked some, I didn't." I shrugged, hoping she would just leave me alone already.

"Why do you even hang out with him? He's nothing but trouble." Chloe didn't bother to hide her distaste towards Declan, who had, admittedly, gotten me into a lot of trouble during the past two years.

"Why? Because he's —"

"No, Cole, you know that has nothing to do with anything." Chloe stood up, a wounded look on her face. Then she shook her head, lifting her hands on her sides. "Just stop assuming the worst of everyone. We aren't all bullies or homophobes, you know?"

I was rendered quiet, too pissed off to get a word out of my mouth, when I watched her stomping back to the door. She turned to glance at me over her shoulder, her hand already on the doorknob. At last, she told me coolly: "Keep the volume down before you cause dad another heart attack."

When she was gone, I clutched a pillow against my face and screamed. Who was she to tell me when to stop? And so what if I was angry? I had all the reason to be. Who was she to tell me Declan was trouble, when she didn't even know him?

Most of all, I didn't know how to explain to her that Declan was my only friend. That just as much as Declan was nothing but trouble, so was I. The other students shunned me, from which I couldn't really blame them. I didn't know how to explain to her that I didn't mind having just one friend, as long as I had that one friend.

"Cole, honey, dinner is ready!" Mom shouted from the kitchen, and I groaned to myself. It wasn't like I didn't want to forgive her, I just wasn't sure if I could.

While mom had used all her effort to get me help for my depression and trying to make sure I was okay, she completely overlooked the fact Cody would have needed her help the most. While I was getting the best care for my puny little problems, Cody was left to deal with his hell all alone.

Well, not all alone. He had Ian, the guy who was the reason he got bullied in the first place, and the guy he was dating now. That was just another example of his forgiving nature and why I wasn't going to take his advice of forgiving mom. Not that Ian was a bad guy, on the contrary, I'd even call him a friend. Despite their rocky start, Ian was good for Cody.

When I dragged myself to the kitchen, taking my seat at the table, I wished I could move on like Cody had. But I couldn't, not with all this anger brewing inside my chest. Not when there were still bullies and homophobes to take care of.

"How was your day?" Mom asked while scooping rice on my plate. I wanted to tell her that I was perfectly able to take my own food, but Chloe's warning glance kept me from doing so.

She is doing her best, I reminded myself over and over again until the worst edge of the anger ebbed. She is trying, I reminded myself and was able to muster a smile on my lips.

"It was.. interesting." I mumbled, skewering a piece of lettuce with my fork. I could tell they were waiting for me to elaborate, but I had said everything I wanted to say.

When I stayed silent, mom, dad and Chloe let the conversation move on to other topics. Moving on. Why was it so hard for me and easy for the others?

****

Question of the day:
What is the last book you read?

(Me: The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller. I think it's my new favorite.)