bad / shyland / completed

3

[1 week before the texts start to arrive]

Ryland's pov
The first is always the hardest. The first time you see a concert, the first kiss, first time you eat a mannys mexican chilli taco special from manny mays restaurant and you blow up a toilet with explosive diareah (true story, trust me it wasn't pretty).

Today is my first day of school. I've moved to California and I'm fucking ready. sure, it's not that easy being a scrawny 10th grade gay boy but I survive.

I wake up to the alarm of my queen (Trisha Paytas) singing about my other queen (Jesus). It's 7:38 in the morning and the sun is fucking shining through my windows. No, seriously that bitch is giving me a tan from my bedroom. I've always wanted to move to California, since it would be such a change from snowy Canada.

I hop out of bed, tensing at the thought that my feet would land on freezing ice wooden floors, but no, it's almost as if god has mooned my floors with his glowing ass and heated them to perfection.

Today's outfit showcased a fashionable selection of... (drum roll please)... a blue thrasher hoodie and light-wash jeans, black adidas and a worn green cap with manny mays restaurant stitched on it. I snatched [A/N: a wig lmao could you imagine] my phone and headed downstairs.

"Ryland? Oh! Ryland your looking amazing! Are you ready for your first day of school?" My mother exclaims from the kitchen.
"I'm as ready as I'll ever be! Do we have any juice?" I reply, digging through the fridge.
"It's on the top left shelf sweetie" she says, not even taking the smallest of peeks at the fridge. Seriously, that woman has eyes on the back of her head.
"Oh thank god your a life saver" I kiss her on the cheek and pour myself a glass.

My dad walks into the open plan living, kitchen and dining room with his 'resting' I'm-pissed-at-the-world-and-need-anger-management-face.
He was the only one of us that didn't want to move to California. "It's too expensive" blah blah "trumps America" blah blah. Puh-LEASE. That man would've voted for trump if he actually lived here. And well, you guessed it.
He hates me being gay.

He's also constantly mad because he know he can't change it. I came out of the WOMB with pink nails and drag makeup (Rupal kills me and gives me life at the same time).
My mother always knew it, and she is all for it. Just my dad? Not so much.

[WARNING: if you didn't read the description already, this story contains a father that can be racist, sexist and homophobic.]

"Wow son for once you don't look like your—" he says to me.
"Gay? Because that's what I am dad. Gay gay gay. I'm gay I like guys I kiss guys I'm going to—" I finish his sentence as I put my glass down.
"Calm down mr. Gay" my mum laughs nervously, glancing over at my dad "we don't need a detailed outline of your future sex life"
My dad pretends to stick a finger down his throat and make gagging sounds behind me.
"Steve!" Mum yells
"I can hear you dad" I roll my eyes.
"You know what, you should catch the bus, your going to be late" mum says as she steers me towards the front door, shooting Dad a dirty look on the way out.

"I love you sweetie" she says.
"I love you too mum." I say and hug her.
"Have a bitchin day!"
"Mum nobody says bitchin"
"Fine. Have a lit day!"
"Your so old" I laugh
"I'm am not! I'm only 32!"
"Young and glowing" we both laugh.

I put my earphones in and walk to the basic American yellow school bus (low-key I have always wanted to ride one of these) and I took a seat for my very first day of my 10th grade American high school.

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[A/N: I saw a post on insta to comment a online friend application and I actually did it, not realising it was a joke ahah I'm lonely 🤧]