Mr.Vanoss

Ch.22 The Three Lines of Doom

"He's still a virgin!" Craig jumped in the car, hitting his head. Making the car shake a bit, which worried Marcel.

"No you stupid shit! We don't even know what the fuck these three lines mean!" Marcel retorted, annoyed by Craig's enthusiasm.

"What the fuck! Why didn't you check the fucking box Marcel? How the hell am I gonna read Arabic?" Jonathan was sweating, feeling like he needed to cry.

Jonathan wanted to tell Luke all his problems. He wanted to beg him to escape prison and hide with him. He wanted his friend back.

"Let's go online to see what the fuck three lines mean!" Jonathan yawned, making his eyes water even more.

"Why the fuck does it not have other languages?" Marcel stopped at a rest stop. Flipping the box over and over. They were forty minutes away from the prison. Luke was expecting Jonathan and Marcel, maybe not Craig. Yet they had to stop to understand the test.

"You're the one who picked the box!" Jonathan took it from Marcel and threw it in the back, hitting Craig once again in the head.

"Touché." Marcel bit his lip, flipping through his phone.

Jonathan looked up what the three lines means on a male pregnancy test.

Three lines means you are pregnant with a possibility of twins. Although the test is not always correct you should always check with a professional doctor who specializes in male pregnancy. Remember male pregnancy test are different from female. Your urine can determine if you are having more than one child and if (of course) you're pregnant.

"Oh fuck." Jonathan felt his whole world fall beneath him.

"Three lines of doom!" Marcel whimpered, he turned on the car and cracked his neck. He chugged a monster while driving. Craig sat back admiring Marcel's actions.

"Whoever the dad is. Make sure you can actually say he's the father.'' Jonathan froze at Marcel's comment. It made sense, he couldn't say anything. Even if it was Mr. Vanoss, he couldn't say a word. He hated how well his friend knew him.

When they got to the prison, Marcel showed his I.D. Freshly eighteen and mean. They were searched and looked at wrong. From hollers from the inside to the guards with their painted crude faces on.

They sat in a room with a bunch of other families. Jonathan's nerves shot up. Marcel came closer to his worried friend while Craig chewed on his nails. The prisoners were all lined up, seeing Luke for the first time in a long time made Jonathan's stomach turn.

"Luke.'' They all stood up. He was tall, a long light brown, almost ginger beard. His nose was straight and a bit upturned. He was slim with small muscles that curved along his arms. His eyes were dark brown with very light eyelashes, his eyebrows groomed. His voice was still smooth, calm, almost as if he was a preacher conducting a sermon.

"Hi boys.'' He walked over to them. Their eyes glued to him, looking him right in his soulful eyes. He smiled at them as if he wasn't in prison for seven years. They sat in the metal, hard bottomed chairs. Jonathan wanted to jump on his imprisoned friend and attack him with kisses. Yet he remained calm with tears in his eyes.

"How's life.'' He tapped on the table, his nails making a rhythm. The boys looked at him, wanting to speak but they were to astounded by his presence. Jonathan sighed and held Luke's hand.

"Well for starters, we're in high school. Our last year actually. None of us have girlfriends or boyfriends.'' Jonathan wondered if Luke had done anything with guys. From the laugh he made, he could tell that he wasn't judgemental.