Boys Will Be Boys

Chapter Thirty-One

Author's Note:

Guys. I'm so sorry that it took me this long to post this chapter; we're back at school now so I have homework and projects and ew. I have a project over how media influences our perception of the LGBT community and let's just say my partner and I don't see eye to eye. ANYWAYS, back to the story. It's NOT over yet. Trust me, I'll let you guys know when it's over :) MORE IS COMING.

xoxo,
Q.

PS: Dedicated to heyitsmaggiex 'cause she made this beautiful cover for me :)

May twenty-second.

The Monday of the last week of school.

It’s a lot to take in. We had our exams last week, and I think I managed to scrape by with passes on all my subjects, despite all the school I missed this year due to all my various hospital visits.

My mom has filed for divorce from my dad. I feel more than a little bit guilty about this. I mean, I know my dad’s been a tool about this whole situation with me being gay and all that, but he’s really not a bad guy.

He was the one who taught me how to play basketball and who took Gabe and me to the park on Sundays when we were young to throw around a football…He’s my dad. It’s awful feeling like I’m losing him over this.

And I feel especially bad for my mom. I mean, that’s her husband. And I feel like such a pivotal cause of them splitting up now.

Dad’s barely been in the house since I returned from the hospital and whenever he is, I can always hear him and Mom yelling at each other down in the kitchen. I don’t really listen in, though.

I usually close my door and blast music loudly through my headphones, hoping to drown them out.

Now I wish I listened more. I might have a better idea of why they decided they couldn’t work it out between them.

They’ve been married for over twenty years. And sure, there are a lot of hardships during marriage, but I was always so confident in my parents’ marriage; they seemed to make it work so well.

My mom continually tries to make me feel like it isn’t my fault, but every time she reminds me of this, it makes me feel even more like I’m to blame.

The only one who’s made me feel better about this is Gabe. Not that he’s been able to change my mind, but he’s helping me distract myself from the big mess that’s going on inside my house.

School’s an easy distraction.

It’s difficult accepting that I’m going to be a senior after this summer, but I guess that’s natural. I so easily remember being this boastful freshman, thinking I knew everything, and hitting on all the girls with this stupid and reckless confidence. Part of me misses that guy, but a bigger part of me is happy I’m finally becoming okay with who I am.

It’s been a crazy year for me.

For more reasons than just discovering I was gay.

I stood up for my friends. I stood up for what I believed in. I opened my mind to new people. I fought through being harassed by people I once thought to be my friends.

I fell in love.

Never did I ever think that would ring true.

When I walk into school that Monday morning, Alana flies at me and tackles me in a hug.

“Dear lord, woman.” I complain, trying to pry her tight hands off of me.

“Luke!” she squeals, practically making my ears ring. “Luke, it’s the last week of school!”