Chapter 9

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Rory and I are in our bedroom.

I mean, first, Mrs. Harwood screams at Rory for beating me with the umbrella. And then Mom and Dad screamed at me for being irresponsible and purposefully "trying to get my butt kicked". And then they sent us upstairs because they didn't want to deal with us anymore.

I already admitted it was my fault. I don't know what they want me to do.

But now I have tissues stuffed in my nose and frozen foods all over my arms and neck. Grandma's blanket's around my shoulders and makes me feel a little warmer. Rory's watching me. Well, glaring. Waiting for me, more like.

And then I whisper, "...did your dad...touch you?"

Rory doesn't say anything. He gets this creepy look on his face and stutters, "My dad has never touched me. Ever." But then he groans. "Oh my God. Okay, lets get this shit out of the way before I strangle you." He leans back in the chair. "What, do you think I drink? That my parents don't love me? That I'm..." He smacks his lips. "...riddled with AIDs and HIV?"

...OKAY, in order -

he kinda has that vibe of the high school guy who's smoking with a gang behind the school.I've seen his parents. There isn't anything wrong with them (besides the month where they turned their back on his word but that's on me)

But then I ask, "...I mean, do you?"

So Rory slaps me hard in the face. "Only gonna say this once, Princess. Got it?"

I nod.

"1. I don't drink." He looks away for a second, and then back to me. "2. I've already told my parents – "

"They know?" I whisper. "H...how'd they take it?"

I can see his mom crying. She's sobbing about no grandchildren. His dad's sitting at the table, muttering to himself. He's got the whiskey out. Everything's grey. It's like one of those murder mystery movies in black and white.

"They were..." Rory takes in a breath and kind of sighs. His head rocks back and forth when he says, "It's complicated, but they were..." he sighs again. "...they were fine with it."

Oh.

"And I'm clean. Haven't done that yet." He looks away for a moment. "Want it to be special 'r somethin'."

"That's fuckin' weird." And then I realize I've said it out loud, and Rory slaps me again.

"You're a piece of shit, but I'm not breaking your nose like you always do," he says, glaring.

"...do all gays have, like...a – "

"Gonna stop you right there, Princess." Rory's got this look in his eyes that says he's closer to strangling me. "I'm not 'a gay', got it? Are you 'a straight'?"

"No, but – "

"Are you 'an idiot'?"

"Okay, dude – "

"Stop talking. I am not my sexuality. You are not 'a moron'. Sometimes. And I am not 'a gay'. And if you call me that again I will throw you out the window into the lake and personally make sure your neck gets broken."

I'm not gonna lie, that's kinda a convincing argument for me. Also...I don't wanna get my neck broken yet.

"Were you born like this?" I ask, gesturing to...just, him.

Rory smirks. "A handsome god of a man? Yes." Then his glare comes back. "Good question. Were you straight when you popped out?"

...Mom had a c-section. I was scooped out. But I shrug and say, "Probably."

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