Chapter 10 - Let's Party Boys

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Two-thirty read Jake's clock, in red, digital numerals. My eyes darted back to the screen. The two of us were sat on his bed, playing some sort of fantasy game on his Xbox that I had little-to-no interest in, but it was pretty funny when you're delirious and bored.

Lilly and Emily were hanging out downstairs together and binge-watching a Netflix series in the living room. I'd have joined them if Jake hadn't gone and saved my ass back at the mall. I almost felt like I had to devote time to him. I owed him big time. Okay, that and I wanted to find the time to properly discuss what happened the night before. Okay, and maybe in the hopes of reenacting it again.

"Shit! We won! That was so fucking close," Jake threw his hands up next to me, and I couldn't help but smile at his goofy, delirious victory grin. It was difficult not to go feral and tackle him onto the bed to attack his lips.

My attention drifted to the final score in the bottom left, where my half of the screen was. "I was getting worried I'd be the last kill for a minute there," I admitted, setting the controller down on his bed. My head was aching, and it was about to race towards the pillow until he spoke up again.

"Yeah, well. You did pretty good." His hand landed on my shoulder, each finger shooting sparks into my skin. Our eyes locked, and suddenly our newfound bromance shifted in tone entirely. For some reason, I could just read Jake. I didn't know if it was because I could read his sister no matter her face, or what, but it was there with him, too. 

Somehow, he must've sensed this mind read as he slid his hand off of my shoulder, looking down at his controller. "You up for another game?"

I hesitated, lost in thought for a split second too long. "Yeah, why not."

"Is... everything alright?"

My eyes darted towards his. "Yeah, why?"

He shook my shoulder, essentially forcing me to look him in the face.

"You're thinking about Charlie, aren't you?" He asked knowingly, exhaling.

I nodded ever so slightly, biting my lips inwards. Jake then visibly searched for the right way to approach the situation. His hand reached for my t-shirt, but just before it touched the fabric, he looked up at me, as if asking for permission, and I nodded again. He pulled up my left sleeve and revealed a bruise on my arm.

"I'm gonna fucking kill him." He spat.

"Jake, stop... It's over now--"

"No. No, it's not. Look at what he's done to you. Physically and probably mentally, too." He got up to walk around his room as he spoke. "It's not right." His tone softened towards the end. It sounded as though he'd heard himself all of a sudden, and thought about how it must've sounded like his anger was directed at me instead.

An aura of rage radiated from him like he'd turned up his body heat. His need to avenge me, to go up against Charlie. It was incredibly hot. But that was just Jake for you; overprotective, believing violence to be an answer to stuff like that, and evidently, it was needed back when I was in literal danger, but I didn't want him getting hurt because of me.

"It doesn't have to go on, though. It's just a bruise. Maybe I should just stop wearing feminine clothing..."

"Fuck no. Max, you are who you are and nothing and definitely no one can take that away from you. Be your fucking self and don't change for anyone, especially not some homophobic prick," he ranted on, keeping direct eye contact with me, wanting to know that I was registering what he was saying.

Then, I felt it again. An overwhelming sense of fear and anxiety about Charlie. My breathing deepened, thinking about how stupid I was. Considering changing who I was for someone else just to fit their ideal version of reality. I didn't want to live in someone else's fantasy. I wanted to live in mine.

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