Boys Like Boys [Nico di Angelo]

prologue

I remember when my mom married. My father had left her before I was born, so I never knew him, but she did.

When I was six, she told me that he was beautiful and that I had his hair, eye shape, nose, lips, cheekbones. I had everything of his except for my skin tone, and I got my freckles from my aunt.

She told me that he loved her very much, and she loved him. She had said that when she told him she was pregnant, he loved me. I never believed that. If he loved me or her, he wouldn't have left.

Being six years old, I had seen things a child shouldn't have. It started when the nurse first held me after I was born. My hand had grabbed her finger and she turned pale, according to my mom. The nurse had turned awfully pale, she was stone cold, the life in her eyes faded and she died.

After that, the doctors did test after test on me to see how a baby could have killed a grown woman with just the touch of my tiny hand.

They found nothing.

I was ordered to stay home at all costs and to never have any physical contact with any living thing.

Six years after I was born on February nineteenth, my mother married a guy named Bobby Green, who had three children of his own. The oldest was Greg, who was thirteen at the time being. He had blonde hair and blue eyes just like his father. After that was Greyson, who was eleven and looked just like his dad. Acted like him too.

The youngest was his daughter named Veda. She was ten and had blonde hair, but brown eyes. She said that her mother had brown eyes and showed me a picture. Her mother was a different woman than Greg and Greyson's. Veda and her mother looked just alike, except for Veda's blonde hair and her mother's ginger hair.

When we moved in with Bobby, Greyson, Greg and Veda, my mother warned them of me. She had said to never touch me.

Bobby wanted to know why. He was a very successful businessman with too much money and a mansion. He always got his way.

"You can't come in contact with Calum," my mother warned.

"Why?" Bobby demanded. His tone was demeaning, as if my mother was lower than him and he deserved to be treated as royalty.

"You just can't."

"I said, 'Why?'" Bobby repeated. I was hiding on the stairs listening into their conversation.

"Calum is different than everyone else. Just...heed my warning and don't touch him. For your sake and your kid's."

"Are you threatening me, woman?"

"No, honey. I'm just warning you."

That was the end of the conversation.

Bobby didn't love me. I didn't love him. His two sons hated me. I disliked them. Veda was the only one of that family that treated me kindly. She smiled and made conversation with me. She always talked to me and asked how I was doing. She was very nice and compassionate towards me.

One day, Bobby came home with a surprise. It was for me.

I was suspicious, honestly. Until he opened the box, which held a cat. It was old and had a lot of hair missing, but I loved it nonetheless. I just wished I could hold it or pet it. But I couldn't.

He asked me why I wouldn't hold it. He said he had paid a lot of money for supplies and stuff for it. I told him I couldn't touch it. I was eleven.

"Now, you listen to me, you hear? I bought this for you with my own money, you selfish brat!" he had yelled. My mother was politely asking him to stop and Veda, who was now thirteen, had stepped in front of me protectively.

"I can't touch it," I told him.

"Like hell you can't! Why can't you, huh, little boy?" he demanded an answer. All these years, my mother had shielded me from these questions. Now, he was furious and wanted to know why.

The next thing that happened left me in tears for weeks.

He threw the cat at me. I didn't want it to be hurt, so I caught it.

The life seeped out of it. It turned cold in my hands. It's eyes glazed over.

I dropped it in a haste as tears fell down my cheeks. I couldn't believe I had done that. It wasn't like I could control it.

The silence that followed was heavy on all of our shoulders. All you could hear were my sobs and sniffles.

I was less afraid of Bobby's reaction that I was of Veda's. I was homeschooled, and Veda was the only thing I had of a friend. I didn't want her leaving me.

I looked up at Veda. She looked at me with wide eyes. Bobby's reaction was the same, with more anger and fear. My mother was crying as well.

"I'm sorry," I choked out and that's when hell broke loose.

"You little-" Bobby rose his hand to hit me, but stopped when he realized it would do no good. It would only harm him. "What in God's green earth was that?!"

"He's different, Bobby. He's-"

"He's a monster!" Bobby screamed, pointing at me angrily. "Are you some witch?!" he yelled at my mother.

"Father, stop," Veda said calmly. I didn't know how she was so calm in a situation like this. She was protecting a monster, like Bobby had said. "He's different, yes. I know. But he is still my brother. He is a brother to me. Not a monster. Julia is no witch. This is not witchcraft. It's a gift."

"A gift? More like a curse. You're going to hell," Bobby said, his cold blue eyes fixed on me.

Something powered over me to answer.

"See you there."

My mother gasped. Veda bit back a smile. She knew how cold her dad was. I knew she knew. An understanding passed between us that day.

"Calum!" my mother scolded.

"I'm not the monster here," I replied boldly. I don't know what was causing me to say this, but a newfound power washed over me. Black smoke curled around my legs and up my arms, like black mambas up a tree.

Bobby stumbled back.

"Veda, get away from that...from that thing! He's the devil's child!"

Greyson decided to come downstairs and investigate the ruckus. He hated me as much as his father did.

After that day, Greg, Greyson and Bobby stayed as far away from me as possible.

My mother and Veda were the only ones who cared for me. Veda often spoke to me and told me stories at night, soothing me to sleep.

Her and my mother talked a lot. I heard them downstairs late at night, though I never heard their conversations.

I was never allowed outside. When guests were over, I had to stay up in my room. The only thing I had when Bobby had people over were the flowers arranged around my room. Veda had brought them in to cheer me up and replaced them when they died.

The irises she brought were my favorite. They assumed different colors. Blue, purple, yellow. I loved them.

She often brought tulips as well. But mainly white. I loved those almost as much as the irises.

Every night after my studies with my mother, I'd go up to my room and stare at the flowers. One day I got brave enough to pick one.

It was the smallest tulip bud. It hadn't even bloomed yet.

I picked it and it immediately wilted in my hand. I had cried for two days, the wilted bud still in my hand as I cried and slept. Eventually, it crumbled to dust and that was that last time I cried over it.

That was the last time I cried over anything.

I'm fifteen now.

(A/N: This story used to have a different title, cover, and main character. I changed it because I wanted to lmao.)