The Halls of Westwood [BxB]

Chapter 4

Suburban towns were the worst. It was the fact that they were so set in a picture-perfect idea that anything odd or unordinary wasn't okay that made them so awful. Each house presented itself the same way with a hard-working father, an involved mother, and two or three perfect children. Everyone liked to express their pity for anything that was slightly inconvenient. Whether it was a single mother or a troubled teen all anyone ever said was a simple 'bless them' or 'my heart goes out to those poor souls'. But nobody ever meant it.

The family on Parkcrest was no different. Mr. And Mrs. Sanders were both respectable people. Mrs. Sanders was the president of the PTA, she ran all of the bake sales and fundraisers. She was the perfect housewife. And Mr. Sanders was a chairman of a large automobile company. And most of all, they had two respectable boys, Jullian and Tristan. Both were star soccer players, top of the class, popular, and loved by their community. And they were inseparable even with the four-year age gap between them.

One particular night there was shouting downstairs and a small six-year-old boy laid curled in his bed, clutching a pillow to his chest. It was his fault. The fight was his fault... He broke the vase, he made the mistake, and now his parents were fighting. Jullian took a shaky breath and wiped away any tears when he heard a quiet knock on his door, and in popped Tristan.

"Get dressed" Tristan decided. He headed toward his little brother's drawers pulling out a simple t-shirt and jeans. "Come on, you gotta get up, bud"

"They're yelling..." Jullian whispered. He didn't understand how his brother could be so chipper at a time like this. Jullian was ruining his parent's marriage. His temper had gotten the best of him and he had broken something special... He wasn't a good kid. He was a bully and he was mean and his parents couldn't handle the issues he brought.

"Yeah, well that's not anything new" Tristan huffed. "Come on, we're going to the park and we're going to play a game... Alright?" Jullian hesitated before nodding.

"What game?" The small boy sniffled as he wiped away the last of his tears off of his pale skin. His dark hair fell messily over his pretty hazel eyes. His whole life all he wanted was to be like Tristan, but the closest he had ever gotten to it was their appearance. If it wasn't for the obvious age difference they could have been mistaken as twins.

"Soccer"
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Jullian sat up quickly, silently cursing at himself. He buried his fingers in his hair as he glanced around the unfamiliar dorm room. His eyes landed on Jayce who was still passed out on his pillow. At first, Jullian hated the sight of him. But then he listened to him talk and he was instantly reminded of his older brother. They had the same level head and warmness around them. They were both good people...

If Jullian was being honest, he didn't meet a lot of black people. There was one black family, six Hispanic families, and two Korean families in his town. So everything about Jayce's culture and views on the world was foreign to him. He never knew so much time and effort could be put into maintaining hair or how many stereotypes didn't shine a hint of truth. Not until he had roomed with Jayce.

He sighed and forced himself out of bed knowing very well that he wouldn't be falling back asleep. Not with Tristan's stupid face still burning in his mind. So instead, he grabbed a simple book he had read about a million times and read it again. It was probably the only thing keeping him sane in this place... Without soccer to take out his anger in he was left with finding other activities. He always could try and do what that white-haired twink had done with dance, but he decided against it. He wasn't sure if he could even look at a soccer ball anymore.

Eventually, his alarm went off telling him he had to get ready. Jayce woke up as well and the two moved almost robotically around one another. Everything was routine, everything was quick and easy as if the two had lived together their whole lives. The only thing that proved otherwise was their lack of conversation. Occasionally they'd mumble an 'excuse me' or a 'good morning' to one another, but that was it.