The Donut Shop ✔️

'O' Stands for 'Oh My God!'

Ethan stared out of the bodega, his face turbulent with daggers of water pelting down his cheeks like bullets of rain during a storm. His lungs burned like his chest was on fire, and his nose ran like someone just turned a faucet on inside of him. He was angry at Tweed, Oliver, and most importantly, himself. 

The truth was that he was different now... he wanted to be different. He wanted to be strong, and confident, and bold... and he wanted the world to see. So he made a decision as he walked back home in the chilled night air. He formed his speech in his mind while listening to the noisy chirps of crickets hidden between tall, dead grass blades.

A part of him hoped that his father would have taken a job from last night until now and was halfway across the country by now, but another part of him needed him, and everyone else, to truly see him for the first time. 

His hands shook from nerves as he walked home alone, his breaths forming white puffs that disappeared in the cold air after lingering for seconds. He felt the erratic beating of his heart when he neared the driveway, spotting the black mailbox leaning slightly on a white post. 

Was he sure that he wanted to do this? What if they kicked him out? What would they say? Fingering the steering wheel ring in his pocket seemed to calm his nerves a bit and reminded him why he was doing this. He was tired of being ashamed of who he was. and he was done being angry at himself. 

He unlocked the door, mentally preparing himself, and walked in. 

"I'm home," he called out. A huge lump formed in the back of his throat, but he pushed his anxiety aside as he kicked off his shoes, padding inside the house. The house sat like it normally did, an average Wednesday night. 

His mother looked up at him as he entered, getting up from the couch and bustling over to the kitchen to fix him a plate of whatever she cooked. At least amongst all the changes in Ethan's life, his mother and her obsession with fattening her children was still the same. 

"Where's Hana?" he asked her mother. In her cooking outfit, which was a pair of old jeans and a raggedy baseball tee, she pushed a few spikes of hair back before pointing to Hana's closed bedroom door. 

"She's been holed up in there since she got home."

Furrowing his eyebrows, Ethan walked over to Hana's door, rapping lightly and entering when he heard her voice muffled through the door. 

"H-hey, Dork," she greeted him as her pencil scratched against the page of an algebra workbook that Ethan had used once before to study with. When he didn't greet her with a stupid nickname, she glanced up. 

Almost as if she had psychic powers, she gasped after studying him for a few seconds, getting up from her desk chair and rushing to shut the door. On her way back into the room, she grabbed Ethan's hand and made him sit at the desk. She chose to sit across from him on her pale yellow duvet.

"Y-you're going to tell th-them, aren't you?" she asked him, her eyes wide like an eager fox. Well, there was no hiding now. Maybe Ethan was easy to read. 

"Yeah, I am," Ethan admitted. He blew out a puff of air and scratched the back of his head. His dis

"When?" she asked him, leaning forward slightly. Her eyes shone with a glimmer of hope that Ethan couldn't seem to muster. 

"Now. But... I don't know if-"

"N-now? Like, right now? I h-have to get ready!" she shouted, flying off of her bed and bustling around her room, grabbing seemingly random objects and thrusting them into Ethan's grasp. Upon further inspection, some of the items he was holding included party-poppers and birthday kazoos.