Stuck In Savannah

1. The Perks of Having a Gay Boyfriend

Chapter 1: The Perks of Having a Gay Boyfriend

“I dropped my phone into a beer.”

And they said I had problems with alcohol.

Raising my eyebrows, I shot Connor an incredulous look as he rubbed his bloodshot eyes and stifled a yawn.

“You dropped it?” I echoed to make sure I’d heard him right the first time and sure, that explained why he failed to reply to any of my texts and why my calls went straight to voicemail. But what I had yet to wrap my head around was how someone could drop a phone into a beer, no less.

“Yeah,” said Connor, not caring to elaborate as he dropped down on his couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table, like he had no care in the world. All he had to do was place his hands behind his head and he’d embody the picture of harmony and peace of mind, as if he really had all his shit together.

As if.

“Should I even ask?” I wondered, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips as I hovered over him and he rolled his eyes exaggeratedly.

“The piece of shit doesn’t work anymore. The only reason I even got is because it said it’s waterproof and it’s not working anymore! Waterproof, my ass,” Connor explained to me, getting all fired up and I sat down next to him, shaking my head at the nonsense leaving his mouth.

“Maybe it’s just not beer-proof,” I joked, but obviously Connor wasn’t impressed with me.

“Ha-ha,” he deadpanned, giving me a leveled look, “very funny, Sav. This is stand-up comedian work right here. Is there a particular reason why you came, or did you just drop by to get on my nerves,” he started before continuing as he noticed the indignant look on my face, “because I have to remind you we’re broken up, Savvy, and I don’t have to sugarcoat anything for you anymore,” he finished, a grin splitting his face into half as if breaking things off with me was the best thing to have ever happened to him.

In all honesty, it was probably the second best thing to have ever happened to him.

“Now who’s the comedian,” I countered, raising one eyebrow at him challengingly, but I went on talking before he could’ve jumped in, or better yet – kicked me out of his house for being a smarty-pants, “but surprisingly, I’m not here to pick a fight,” I assured him, tilting my chin up at him snobbishly and Connor had no time to cover up his initial surprise.

“You’re not?” he repeated, probably thinking he needed hearing aids. “Hell must've frozen over and pigs must be flying,” he grumbled under his breath, not meaning for me to hear.

“No,” I shook my head, and then kept on talking, as if I hadn’t heard him, “and you would’ve known that had you not dropped your phone into a beer last night,” I told him at which he all but rolled his eyes at me for my smart-ass remark.

“I need a favor to ask of you,” I added quickly, figuring now was a good time as any.

“Here we go again,” Connor sighed deeply, his voice barely audible as he got up from the couch and went towards the kitchen with me hot on his heels.

“Can I please crash at your place for a few nights?” I asked before he could’ve shot me down as I bit my lip, thinking that he hadn’t said no yet, which was all I could’ve hoped for, all things considered.

With his back turned to me, Connor opened his fridge and examined its contents.

“Do you want a soda? I have coke and Mountain Dew,” he listed off, having yet to spare a look in my direction, or acknowledge me, like I was just a fly on his wall he could easily swat away.

“Connor,” I started, thinking that I couldn’t care less about soda right now, “did you hear what I said?” I demanded to know, resisting the childish, yet all-consuming urge to stomp my foot to attract his attention.

“Yes, Savannah, I did,” he said tightly, finally turning back around to face me as he blew an exhausted sigh through his mouth and cracked open a can, “although sometimes listening to you,” he told me, tipping the soda in my direction, as if to salute me, “I wish I could go deaf,” he smiled, once more pointedly ignoring me as he took a sip and sidestepped me before he went back to the living room, not sticking around to see if I was going to follow him or not. Probably hoping I wouldn’t.

“Oh, come on, Connor,” I went on, undeterred, knowing I could make him crack if I tried hard enough, “I even said please!”

“Why do you need to stay at my place again?” he asked, starting to cave in and inwardly, I whooped in joy, realizing I was coming closer to getting what I wanted. A question was much better than a hell, no.

“Dad’s going away on a business trip for a few days and he wants me to go to Lauren’s until he’s back, but I refuse to spend a day with the evil witch and the little brat, much less live under the same roof,” I declared, very much cringing at the thought as I crossed my arms across my chest, my upper lip curling in disgust.

“That’s your mother and your sister you’re talking about,” Connor reminded me (as if I could ever forget), not even batting an eyelash at me. I uncrossed my arms and let them drop by my sides limply, all fight living my body.

“I don’t care. I can’t stand being around them both,” I said firmly, realizing that we were hardly the picture perfect family people thought we were, “and I know your parents won’t mind me being he-“

“What about your dad, Sav?” Connor interrupted, looking at me incredulously, confused as to how I would ever begin to convince my dad this arrangement was cool. “Won’t he mind you living with your ex-boyfriend?” he asked, eyebrows raised, expecting to foil my plan.

“Nah,” I waved him off easily, realizing this was nothing he needed to fret over, “ever since I told him you’re gay, he likes you even more,” I assured him at which Connor’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets and thank god, he wasn’t drinking any of that soda, for he would’ve been choking to death and fighting for his last breath just about now.

“You told him I’m gay?” Connor screeched, grabbing at his chest, as if he was having a heart attack right before my eyes, terrified that I might’ve said something along these lines to my dad, which I sort of did. Okay, not just sort of – I really did say it.

“Well, duh,” I exclaimed, googly-eyed, staring at him like it was the most natural thing to say to your ex-boyfriend. “You dropped my ass like a hot potato. What else was I supposed to tell people? I have a reputation to maintain after all,” I said to him, puffing out my chest and scoffing as he rubbed his temples tiredly.

“You are crazy, Sav. Certifiably insane,” he told me in all seriousness, but this was not something I hadn’t heard before, especially coming from him, so it basically went in one ear and straight out the other. Crazy or not, I had no time to dwell on such minor details I couldn’t care less about.

Life was too short to read the fine print.

“So,” I drawled, crossing my fingers and counting my blessings, “does this mean I can stay?”

“Do I even get a say?” he wondered, glancing up at me like a kicked puppy, knowing it was never really up to him. I’d made up my mind the moment the idea popped up in my head; it was too perfect to pass up.

I squealed in barely contained delight before I gave him a one-sided hug as a sign of my gratitude.

“Thanks, Connie, you’re the best,” I praised him before planting a big, sloppy and very much wet kiss on his cheek. “Just let me grab my bags from the car and let my dad know,” I said excitedly as relief washed over me at once and I realized I could finally breathe easy.

“I can’t believe your dad bought that I was gay,” I heard Connor muse to himself, deep in thought as I left his apartment, a smile blossoming across my face.