Written in the Stars (W.I.P.)

Chapter 5

Dean
I woke up on Saturday morning thinking about Rhys.
I thought about the fact that he saw me and Gage at the park the other day, and the way he nearly sprinted away...
I laid back on my pillow, placing my hands firmly above my eyes.
I can't believe I'd let him see me and Gage like that.
I sat up straight again when I heard the jingling of keys on a belt outside my door.
My muscles tensed more and more each time I heard his shoes hit the floor.
He was only passing by. I assured myself, picking up the book that sat upon my bedside table and opening it up to read.
I found peace in reading, it helped me escape.
Along with drawing, writing, singing, and dancing.
Not anything anyone outside of my own home would expect me of all people to be doing to get away.
Bing!
I picked up my phone nervously and turned it on, staring with wide eyes at the Lock Screen.
Rhys. I thought, opening the notification.
'Why were you with Gage at the park yesterday evening?' I read, tensing.
I considered not texting back for a moment before tapping onto the text box.
'He's my boyfriend.' I wrote quickly, deciding to be straightforward with him.
He didn't respond for a few seconds, and I sensed something different in Rhys.
He doesn't hesitate, I knew that for a fact.
'I won't tell anyone anything.' Is all he said back.
'Thanks.'

Rhys
I slumped down in my bed, my posture giving out, and a soft tear ran down the side of my face.
It was really none of my business what they were doing, but...
He's my boyfriend. I could hear Dean's voice behind the text message, caving in on me.
"Rhys, honey, it's nearly time for breakfast. Please make your way downstairs soon!" My mother called from the bottom of the stairs.
I breathed in deeply.
"I'll be down in a second!" I managed to call out.
I was able to compose myself for a moment and wiped the pathetic tears off my face.
I never cared about Dean Silvers.
It doesn't hurt.
I was just being dramatic.

I got up and silently made my way out of my bedroom door and down the hall toward the stairs.
I gripped the banister tightly in my dark hands as I walked gradually down into the living room and turned the corner into the kitchen.
It doesn't hurt.
My breathing was steady and my ears weren't ringing, so I was fine.
I was fine.

For the next few weeks, I didn't talk to anyone.
Not my parents.
Not my sister.
Not Dean.
It doesn't hurt.

I brushed past my locker and into my last hour of the day.
I briefly glanced over at Dean, who was sitting in the back of the class with his chair leaned back and his legs propped up on his desk, his arms folded behind his head, a distracted expression on his face.
I sat down at my desk in the front of the class and quickly glanced at the clock, already wondering when the class would be over.
It doesn't hurt.

After the longest class lecture of my life, the bell finally rang.
I got up first and threw my backpack over my shoulder before nearly sprinting out of the room, not glancing once back at Dean.
I swiftly boarded the bus and looked out the window, finally letting myself watch Dean for only a moment as he began to walk swiftly along the sidewalk.
He'd been walking or driving home and skipping school for years because of his family situation in which only I was aware of aside from him, his family theirselves, and probably Gage.
I only took the bus when I knew my father wasn't going to pick me up after school.
My parents believed I didn't need a car, since they could just drive me anywhere.
But even that wasn't true, and they both knew it.
As the bus began to pull out of the parking spot, I shoved my backpack down beside me and took my book out from the largest pocket and began reading.
I let my mind focus only on the black-printed words scrawled evenly across each off-white page of the book, not Dean and his terrible living situation, or his extremely unlikely boyfriend.