"TWO BOYS. ONE EPIC LOVE STORY."
• • •
After constant bullying about his sexuality, Micheal Cade moves to New York City to start fresh for his junior year.
When he starts at a new private school...
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HOLY SHIT.
"I love you, Damien Chase."
Micheal's words have been replaying over and over in my head since Saturday. He doesn't know that I know.
I should have said it back, but it was like my whole body froze and my mind went blank.
And by the time I realized what happened, he was already fast asleep. I didn't want to wake him because I know he hasn't been sleeping well.
"He what?!" Lucy exclaimed with a happy squeal.
We were sitting in my room, and Lucy wanted to know all the details of our date that we didn't go on last weekend.
"Lucy, shush!" I said, looking around to see if somebody heard that. My door was cracked opened.
"This is great news, Damien! He loves you," Lucy said, making her voice quieter.
"Did you forget the part where I literally froze up and didn't say it back?"
Lucy crossed her arms across her chest. "That's because you're scared."
I raised an eyebrow, and she continued,"You, Damien Alexander Chase are terrified to let yourself love somebody."
I shook my head,"That's not true. I love you."
She tsked,"I'm talking romantically here, Damien."
"Oh."
"Micheal is your first boyfriend, and it sounds like you think that as soon as you say those three words that he is going to go running out the door," Lucy explained before grabbing a hold of my hand. "But that's not true. Micheal could have ran a long time ago, but he didn't. He's still here, and I have a great feeling that he isn't going anywhere."
I smiled,"Y'know, you should become a therapist."
Lucy laughed with a shake of her head,"No. Gosh, no."
"Lucy, Damien, come downstairs now!" Our father yelled from downstairs.
Lucy and I gave each a disgusted look, but we both got up from my bed. We were both thinking the same thing; this can't be good.
We walked out of my room and downstairs to see our mother sitting on the couch with a celebrity magazine in her hands. She was dressed in a black tight dress with pearls around her neck.
Our father was standing in front of the fireplace, facing us. He was dressed in a black tux and dress shoes. He had a glass filled with bourbon, and he took a sip of it before he opened his mouth to speak.
"Sit. We need to have a talk," he instructed, pointing to the couch beside our mother.
Lucy had a worry look on her face, and I sat down beside our mother. I know better than put Lucy beside her. Our mother is always making comments about Lucy whether it be about her hair or her body.
