Calls

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Oliver called his father and put him on speaker. James felt uncomfortable; he hated talking to parents, or adults, or authority figures. It reminded him too much about his desperate attempts at avoiding his own family.


"Hi, Oles." His dad sounded happy, warm.

It was unusual for James.

"Hey pa, I wanted to ask you something. It's important. And private. And ugh, kinda sensitive."

His father laughed loudly. "When is it not?"

"Don't make fun of me! This is actually important, for real this time."


Oliver looked at him, and James shrugged. It seemed like an appropriate time anyway. They were alone in the library, and there was no need to postpone it.

"So, do you remember when I told you about James and Victor?"

"Your boyfriend and your boyfriend's crush, who is now also your crush. I never expected boarding school to be this intense."

"Well, Victor's in this... ugh, I don't know, Victor's..." Oliver took a deep breath as if the next words physically pained him. "Dad, I think - I know - that Vic suffered from some abuse. He's developed some awful coping mechanism and I - we - don't know what to do. Can you please, I don't know, give us some pointers? Something? He won't talk."

"What kind of coping mechanisms?"

"Ugh, drugs, I think. Drinking. I'm not sure if sleeping around while blackout drunk is considered a coping mechanism too."

"Oles, this is such a delicate situation." His father started. "I could give you some pointers, but I feel like it would be better if -."

"I don't think he'll go to therapy. I don't think he's willing to go to the police either."

"Ok, Ollie-bean, listen, how about you three come here for the weekend?"


Oliver looked at James again. James shrugged. He wasn't comfortable meeting someone's parents, but it was the only viable solution. Oliver's dad was far better equipped at dealing with trauma than two teenagers.

"That's a great idea, pa." Oliver smiled. "Can we like, do anything in the meantime?"

James heard the man sigh. There was a brief pause.

"I'm not sure. If he's not willing to talk about it or admit to it, he might get defensive. Angry even. And we don't want that. What we want is for him to feel safe and protected. And he needs to know it's not his fault, but I'm not sure how you can work that into casual conversation. Don't push him, just be there for him; keep him away from substances. I need to meet him first, ok?"

"Thanks, pa. We'll take a train this Friday. Oh! By the way, Victor doesn't eat meat."

"That's called being a vegetarian, Olive." His father chuckled. James had to cover his mouth to keep in his laugh.

"I had no idea." Oliver rolled his eyes. "Thanks. We'll see you this Friday, love. you very much."

"I love you too, kid. Take care. And try not to fall in love with a third boy, ok?"

"I can't make promises. Bye!" Oliver hung up.


"What do you mean you can't make promises?" James squinted and pinched Oliver's nose, not hard enough for it to hurt.

Oliver whined dramatically. "I have a dummy thick heart. It needs to stay constantly stuffed with love."

"That's... so fucking cringy!" James cupped his face and kissed him on the lips. "Why are you so cringy."

"Stop it; we're both cringy."

James pecked his lips. "Fine, what do you want to do now?"


Before Oliver could answer, James' phone started vibrating on the table. It said "Mom" in black letters. James frowned and turned it face down. Ollie tilted his head and took his hand.


"You should maybe talk to them? It's been so long."

"Fuck them." James pulled his hand away, took his phone, and shoved it in his pocket. "No."

James' anger vibrated in his whole body. It echoed in his mind as his mother's voice and his father's disappointment.

He remembered the last conversation they had. He had to pick this preppy school or get out. They said military school, but he knew what that meant. He also knew that boarding school was the sociably acceptable way of kicking their kid out of the house.


"Fuck that." He got up, picking his laptop under his arm. "Let's go, ok?"

Ollie frowned, pity was evident in his eyes. He detested that.

"God, Ollie, don't look at me like that! I'm not an injured puppy." He was struggling to keep his voice even. Controlling his anger was never his forte, but this was Ollie, and Ollie should have none of it.

"They call once every blue moon just so they can pretend that they're trying." James continued. They could've driven here, he thought, they could've texted.

Oliver wrapped his arms around, resting his chin on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Jamie-James." Oliver sighed.

"It's not your fault." He pecked the top of his head. "Will you do me a favor and buy us food? For Victor too?"

"Sure, Jamie. Sure, I'll see you in your room, ok?"


Oliver left him alone in the library. James took this opportunity to gather his stuff from the table. His phone kept ringing. It pissed him off.

He marched back to his room, trying to ignore the vibration in his pocket. He wondered why he wasn't turning it off. His mother was insistent, and he was starting to be curious. Curious and bitter.


James stopped in front of his bedroom door long enough to pull his phone out of his pocket and answer. He didn't think too much about what he was going to say, or how it was going to come out.

He barged in the room, shouting.

"What! What do you want!?"

Victor's reaction was visceral. He jumped and dropped whatever it was that he was holding. James couldn't focus on him. He could barely focus on being coherent.

"What do you want? Why are you calling me?"

He saw Victor rush out of the room. Shit.

"Is this how you talk to your mother?" She heard her voice, and all thoughts about Victor's safety vanished in a thick cloud of black fury. There it was, the screaming match he was dreading. 


Author's note<3:

 Oh no, Victor on the loose! Bad parents! What's next?

Hopefully, it's not bad coping mechanisms, am I right?

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