Solar Flare (bxb)

Chapter One

WARNING: This story contains strong language, depictions of violence, depictions of sexual assault, and depictions of homophobia that are not accepted or tolerated and may be upsetting to some readers. Reader discretion is advised.

The senior trip is supposed to be a final salute to the drudgery of highschool. It's supposed to be one last hurrah shared by the seniors in the hopes of fostering lifelong connections. By throwing us in the middle of the wilderness, we are supposed to learn that we actually need each other.

I absolutely refuse to be a part of this show of symbolism.

My mother is the principal of my school, West Lake High, and thus I spent my childhood on these senior camping trips. She stopped letting me go when I reached my freshman year of highschool, insisting that this abstinence would make my senior trip something special. I know these woods, these cabins, these facilities, like the back of my hand. And while I consider myself a friendly guy, I have no interest in sharing what has become a sacred space to me with my dipshit classmates.

I look around the small, spare cabin. It's a tiny, one-bedroom production with two twin beds on either side of the room. On those beds are your standard ancient mattresses covered in synthetic vinyl that has been wiped down with disinfectant for decades. The room smells like dirt, pine needles and staleness.

I love it.

I spread my sleeping bag over the bed closest to the door, knowing blankets won't suffice in the freezing Pacific Northwestern nights. I put my duffel bag full of clothes and essentials at the foot of the bed and consider going for a walk in the woods to dispel my bitterness about being forced the share the origin of weeks of happy childhood memories with peers who would rather be anywhere else on the planet.

The door opens and I prepare to meet my roommate. All the other times I've been here, I've shared one of these tiny cabins with my mom, but this year I was thrown into the ocean to swim with the rest of the mindless school of fishes.

I'm out as gay to everyone at school and in life. I've been met with my fair share of inappropriate jokes and questions, but for the most part my classmates ignore me. I'm certain that my tall height and athletic build, courtesy of my spot on the swim team at the local community college, have protected me from the bullying so many of my fellow teenage queers experience, but I've wondered for weeks how someone would react to having to share their cabin with me. I asked my mom at one point if she would just consider pairing me with a girl so I wouldn't have to deal with any bullshit, but she went on a tirade about how she wouldn't tolerate any "nonsense from the other kids" regarding my sexuality. I like that my mother so steadfastly supports me, but it comes at the cost of having something of a teacher's pet, or rather, principal's pet, reputation.

His eyes meet mine and I sigh inwardly. Luis Delgado.

Less of a fish and more of a shark.

Luis is my height exactly, an impressive six-foot-one, with beautiful muscles I've fantasized about memorizing with my tongue since middle school. It's weird, because he doesn't play a sport, even though the football coaches have practically begged him to join. He glares at everything like it woke him up from a deep sleep, and I've never heard him say more than three words at a time. But whatever words he does say must get under many people's skin because he gets in fights on a weekly basis. This avid fighting throughout his highschool career has given him a light scar on his cheekbone and another on his lip. His eyes are dark and filled with bitterness from behind his longish black hair.

Of all the people I predicted would throw a fit about rooming with the school queer, Luis was at the top of the list.

I prepare myself for a shitty comment or blatant refusal, but instead, Luis casts me a single glance before walking into the cabin and throwing his bag on the other bed.