College is coming soon, and Blake Warner is sure that his life is embedded into the dead-end that is Merritt Hills, Georgia. His mother has assured him millions of times, that money has nothing to do with where his future leads.
But whenever he lie...
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Charles was angry. His hands clenched angrily, as Helena flinched beside him at her husband's loud and booming voice. Brooks sobbed into the towel surrounding his shoulders, as his feet ached from walking for miles, all the way back home, where his angry father and terrified mother subsided.
Brooks felt humiliated. As though Jackson was right. As though everything Jackson had said was right.
That Blake would somehow, someway hurt him. And at the time, neither Jackson or Brooks knew how, but now, Brooks knew it was by luring him in, and leaving stranded.
Both emotionally and physically.
Helena itched to lean over, and caress her son's shoulders, to reassure him that everything would be alright. That he'd be alright. With or without a boy who used to bully him, anyway.
"F-Father, I—"
Charles struck, his hand coming down to slap the base of Brooks' reddening cheek. Brooks sobbed even harder, turning toward his mother for guidance. Turning toward his mother who only looked the other way.
Helena's chest heaved, as a tear slid down her cheek, the coiling foundation running down her tanned cheek, as well.
"How many times have your mother and I spared you, whenever you rebelled? How many times have I had to deny the fact that you're a fag to everyone who asks?!" Charles spat, his hand lifted, as Brooks sobbed uncontrollably.
"I-I'm sorry, father! I'm sorry." Charles looked over to Helena, who'd barely been keeping her composure, while Charles had been shouting at the top of his lungs, and especially when he'd lied a hand on Brooks.
Charles took a step back, readjusting the cuffs on his wrist, as Helena couldn't look him the eye. Not after such a scene.
He took Brooks' chin in his heavy palm, breath overriding, and eyes menacing, as he spoke. "This is the last time I tell you, Brooklyn. Or every ounce of freedom I've ever offered you, will be ripped away so fast, it'll make your sick head spin. Am I clear?"
Brooks nodded immediately, his bottom lip wobbling, as Charles walked away without a scratch, Helena following close behind him.
Once the two were out of sight, slamming Brooks' bedroom door shut behind him, Brooks pushed his pillow onto his mouth. Suppressing his cries for sanctuary and sanity flowing right into the same pillow he'd had since he was just a child.
"I hate him," Brooks whispered under his breath, his dark, yet tussled curls stuck to his forehead, as his lips bubbled with sadness. "So much."
Blake drove in a hurry, his furious eyes narrowing in on every road sign that he passed. He couldn't stop replaying that same old scene in his head. He'd kiss Brooks, Brooks would kiss back, then Blake would leave him there, still stranded, and still absolutely terrified to go home.
What the hell was Blake thinking? It was dark, but then again, it was Merritt Hills, nothing bad ever happened there.
And what would happen if he went back? Brooks would think he cared, Brooks would think that Blake cared about anybody else other than himself.
And sure, that was true to some extent, but what good would it do, if everyone in the entire world knew that? None, absolutely none.
He frowned at the familiar chime of his cellphone, groaning aloud when reading the caller ID. Meg.
"What do you want Meg?" He questioned her with clenched teeth, his fingers gripping onto both the steering wheel, and his cellphone.
Meg sighed on the other end of the line. "I'd just like some company right about now? And why are you so mad anyway? I'm the one who should be throwing a bitch fit."
Blake's jaw clenched in irritation, him trying now to let the anger overtake him, and cause him to drive into some sort of ditch. "And why is that, Meghan?"
She purred at the use of her full first name. "Well, for starters, Jeff didn't want to have any fun when we got back to my place, and was acting like a total girl. And he left before I even got my side of the story in! Can you believe that, Blakey?"
Blake's fingers clenched once more. "And why are you calling me, Meg?"
"I'm in dire need of some boy company, Blakey. Come and help . . . Set me free." Blake almost bursted out into a fit of no's. But as soon as his lips opened up widely, he took a moment to think.
Jeff never cared whenever Meg slept with someone else, and he did it all the time. So, would it matter if Blake had his turn?
He sounded like an asshole, but the way Meg had sounded over the cellphone, he couldn't help but think such a way. And maybe he could forget Brooks this way?
And if that was true, in any sense. He'd take that chance any day.
