Running

3- Angels

Writes note: Hey, I'm Sam and this is my first time publishing a LGBTQIA+ book, so I figured it was about time. I will try to keep it as updated as possible but it might be a bit hard with my schedule. Be welcome to comment any suggestions or thoughts, as I will make sure to read them.

WARNING: THIS BOOK MAY CONTAIN SLURS, STRONG LANGUAGE AND TRIGGERING MESSAGES

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANY BRANDS/COMPANIES MENTIONED IN THIS BOOK
~to my dear olivia rosetta ikonen, thank you for being my redd~

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⋆𝕝𝕦𝕔𝕒𝕤 ⋆
As I step out of the car I can already see her jogging over to me. Her parents standing at the entrance with proud smiles.
"Hiya!" She says too loudly. "Hi Francesca." I reply meekly. "Please! Call me Frankie!!" She says again, very loudly and definitely too excitably for an evening. I smile whilst nodding and look towards my parents in an attempt to save myself but they're not at my side as I remember them being, they're talking to Francesca's parents. Great.

"We should really get inside, we don't want to miss the program tonight, I hear it's a good one." I try to say with at least an ounce of joy. "Really?! I didn't have time to study the material for tonight but I'm planning to take extra notes to make up for it!" She explains and I let out a chuckle. "What's so funny Lucas?" Francesca queries me. I realise she was wasn't joking. "Oh- I just though of something funny. Sorry" I say in a desperate attempt to turn this shit-show around. "What's it on?" She questions me but I must look too visibly confused because she has to prompt me again. "The talk?.. what's it on?" She explains.
"Uh- I don't want to spoil the surprise for you!" I manage to splutter out. "Oh, of course!" She says, winking at me.

As soon as the sermon is over and done with  and the speaker steps off the podium, I make a beeline towards the exit, making sure to avoid any unnecessary chitchat. When my parents ask why I tell them I am feeling ill and am ought to go straight to bed when I am home.
And as soon as we get home I run straight to my room, rip off my tie, and throw it to the side. As I lie back on my bed, stretching out my arms, I can't help but think about my encounter with Adam today. Only a few weeks and then I can escape this prison. I can drive away, never having to look back at my parents, Francesca or this dirty city.
I am surprised Adam recognised me, he hasn't been in one of my courses in years.
God he smelled good. He smelled like the kind of caramel you see in adverts, the rich golden flowing sort. I promised my self I'd stop thinking about him, obsessing over every inch of his perfect skin. You'd think that he would be a dick, considering the daunting social status he has attained, alas he is still an angel. He makes it hard not to obsess. He's just one of those people that everyone is obsessed with, everyone either wants to be him or be with him. And I don't blame them. Fortunately for me, almost everyone from our year are all headed to the London city university, meaning I may still be able to catch a glimpse of him every now and then. Eva said she heard that his parents are kicking him out because he got with an older girl but I refuse to believe it, I know Adam. He wouldn't. Maybe I'm biased but sometimes I feel that you can know someone like a personal companion from just observing them, and believe me I have done enough of that.
As I fall asleep I watch images of him dance around me, thoughts of him and me together.
I see us driving under the sun in an old convertible, him at the wheel and me managing the radio. The sun is blazing down on us, as we drive Western California, alongside the mountains that watch us from above. This is what I imagine heaven feeling like. Like a lulling daydream, singing you into a trance and that keeps you safe and at peace with the people you love. We have no need for angels in our heaven, I would tell him. Because he is my angel.
We have no need for angels in our heaven.
I know it isn't morning when I wake up, because I can still hear mum and dad watching TV downstairs, and as we all know, 'television isn't for mornings.' I sneak down the stairs, running my hand along the smooth wood. When I get to the bottom I quietly hop past the lounge room door and into the kitchen. I cautiously open the fridge door and take out a carton of milk, and then from a higher cabinet I reach and collect a box of cereal.

Carrying my precious meal up the stairs, I am careful not to jut the bowl, alarming my parents of my disobedience and woken self. I flick on my television to see another angry politician, another grieving man, another scared child.
The world that had brought damage to itself, complains of damage.
I fear for us all.
Just when I finish my last spoonful of shredded wheat, I get a phone call from Marie again.
"Marie??" I can hear her crying.
"Lucas!" She responds
"Are you okay??" I ask her immediately
"Brad dumped me! After all these months to think he didn't even fucking care!!" She screams into the phone.
"It's going to be okay M" I try reassuring her.
"How do you know that?? A boy has never broke your heart!" She hollers again. I am slightly tempted to tell how how incorrect this is but I don't think this is quite the right time. "I just, we made it so long, nearly to uni! I should've listen to Emily when she said no relationships last 'til then!" I can hear the despair in her voice.
"I though he was different Lu." She says, finally.
"He was. But not anymore, he's turned average. But you're an amazing girl and I know that you deserve someone ten times better, even if he is a bit average." I tell her.
"I'm sure that's right but right now, I don't care. I just want to hold him." Marie sounds like she might snap.
"Hold on. I'll be there in a second" I say and before she can say anything else I hang up.

I'm coming Marie.