Different.

Chapter 4

I wake up in the morning with the image of the smiling girl from my dream in my head. The girl seems familiar but my brain could not place the face this early in the morning.

I get dressed and walk down to the kitchen.

"Hi sweetie. How'd you sleep?" My mother is cooking bacon again.

"I slept fine, but I had this weird dream." I reply as I take my place at the table.

"Weird dream? How was it weird?"

"Well, there wasn't much to this dream. It was about a smiling girl, I think I know the face but I can't place it."

"Oh. You will figure it out eventually sweetie." My mother comes over and sets a plate of bacon in front of me and kisses my hair. "I have to go take a shower. Be good and don't miss the bus." she points a jokingly stern finger at me before she leaves the room.

I take my empty plate to the sink and start to rinse it with warm water when I hear someone walk up behind me. "I thought you were going to take a shower?" I turn around to face the person behind me and see that it isn't my mother, it's my father. "Oh. Hi daddy."

"Hey. Listen I gotta go or I'll be late again. Don't forget that we are going up to the mayor's house after school."

"How could I forget." I mumble to myself.

"What was that?" I father asks me.

"Oh. I said I won't forget." I smile at him as he walks out the door, not even listening to my answer.

I grab my bag and walk out the door to catch the bus. When I get on I see Noah in the back and I go and sit with him.

"Hey." I say.

He doesn't respond.

"Noah?"

He won't even look at me.

"Noah what's wrong?"

I see him slightly shake his head.

"Noah. Look at me. Now."

He finally turns his head and I notice that he has a black eye and a cut lip.

"What happened?" I ask.

"Nothing."

"Who did this to you?"

"No one." he tries to look away again.

I grab his face and turn his head towards me. "Who did this to you Noah?"

"Your father."

I sit there speechless.

"He told me to stay away from you and not to talk to you."

"To hell with my dad." I say finally finding my voice. "He can be a little bitch all he wants but you're one of my best friends."

"Really?" he looks up at me with questioning eyes.

"Yes really." I assure him. I hug him.

"Thought you were a faggot?" I look up and see Wyatt looking back at us from the seat in front of us.

I make a disgusted face. "We're just friends Wyatt."

"Oh?"

I glare at him. "You know that not every hug says 'hey, fuck me'."

Wyatt acts like he didn't hear me. "So I heard that you and your father are joining me and my parents for dinner this evening."

"Yes."