Tutor and Tutee (ver. 2) [HIATUS]

Prologue

My name is Jone Davis and I am a seventeen year old male studying at Denvous High. I have a few secrets that I need to keep from my schoolmates. First, I was gay. That was the easiest secret to keep from others so far, but students have had their suspicions since I kept looking at my childhood friend, Nate Anderson, who happened to be one of the jocks in school.
    Some people had the guts to actually approach me and ask—which I was a bit confused by since I wouldn't have asked if I were them. I wouldn't go around assuming things like that. Anyway, some students had asked me if I knew who Nate was or if I liked him. Well, the answer was both. That was my second secret. But because I had a bad habit of staring at him at times, people probably had gotten a few hints. However, like I said, people wouldn't randomly assume things so nothing was spilled so far.
    After school, I'd always come home to my mother greeting me with hugs and kisses on my cheeks. Sometimes I feel like she still treats me like a child, but I somewhat like the way she treats me. I loved spending time with her. But then, there's my father. He was currently invisible—well, never at home. Reason being was because when I came out to my parents, my father didn't approve of it.
    Whenever I was home alone with him, he would shoot glares at me and mutter some nicknames like—well, you could guess what he called me.
    When I first came out to them, I thought they both approved of it. They had kind smiles on their faces. But when Mom wasn't around, Dad would never talk to me or smile at me. And for every little mistake I made, such as breaking something, he would slap me and tell me how useless of a son I was. It was kind of cruel to treat your own son like that just because you don't support LGBTQ. At least give us the respect if we were unable to gain your support.
    It was a drastic change since he had never slapped me before—even when I had broken something. He also told me not to tell Mom that he had physically hurt me. If not, he would abuse me again. I would be retarded if I had listened to his words. Which person wouldn't ask for help in such a situation?
    Obviously, I didn't listen to him and just told Mom straight away. That was only when Mom and I were the only ones at home.
    After revealing that Dad had abused me and called me names, Mom was shocked. She had a sad look in her eyes and looked as if she was about to cry. But that sad look didn't stay for long at all. After pulling me into an apologetic embrace, she had a glare. We moved to Aunt Lucy's place to stay before Dad arrived back home that day.
    Luckily for us, Dad didn't know where Aunt Lucy's house was. He had tried calling Mom a lot of times but she had never picked up. And once we found a new home a few weeks later, the calling had stopped.
    Home was never really far from school, but I had to admit, it was a pain in the ass to walk there every day.
    Mom would call me every day during break and she would sound worried. That was only when I started high school. A few months later, she would only call me once a week, saying that she shouldn't bother me every day. But she sounded happier. She said that she was glad that I hadn't been facing problems lately. After that, the calling had completely stopped and she would only ask me questions at home.
    When I told her about Nate, she was shocked but she sounded relieved. Now, every time we talked, she would ask me if I had managed to befriend him again or even tease me, asking me if I had a crush on him.
    Yes, she was embarrassing but she was no doubt one of the best moms in the world. She supported me and cared for me—and yes, she knew that I liked Nate. She wanted to see him soon as it has been a long time since she last saw him.
    What she doesn't know, was that Nate doesn't remember me. It was heartbreaking but I had to bare with it. However, it was weird . . . I knew that Nate didn't have any memory issues or whatnot. In fact, he has pretty good memory. But I didn't think much of it since it's been a long time anyway.
    But hey, I didn't mind a fresh new start. As long as we get along somehow, I would be happy anyway.