Pete adores Mikey. He's beautiful in a ratty old Anthrax tee and frayed jeans. She's beautiful in strawberry lipstick and a tight black skirt. They're beautiful in that soft blue jumper as Pete's perfect agender angel. But Mikey's dad doesn't seem to agree.
“I’m… I-I I’m sorry…” that’s the only thing I manage to choke out. Nobody ever caught me self harming. “You’re always so fucking sorry Gee. Save it, it doesn’t change anything.” He says and his hand wraps around my arm again. “Can I? Please?” he asks, puppy eying me again. This time, I don’t resist. I let him pull my...