Runaways- Runaways 1

Chapter 1: Marcus

Social distancing. Those were two words that you couldn't seem to go five minutes without hearing these days. Whether it was on television, the local news website, a YouTube video, you name it. That's all anyone ever wanted to talk about. We'd been in quarantine for almost six weeks because of Covid-19 season. It had been two years since the virus was discovered, and it seemed to come back worse each year. It was crazy, and it was killing me. Well, not literally. But the season always took a toll on my social life. I was supposed to video-chat with Peyton tonight though. I guess that was better than nothing.

The laptop sitting on my desk was already open to Skype. I'd been spending most of my time here recently. I had been so emotionally exhausted. The only times I'd leave my room would be to play video games in the family room or have a meal with my family. Sometimes I'd go run with my chocolate lab, but I hadn't felt like it the past few days. I'd barely even been out in the backyard to see him. My sister had agreed to walk him every day though, so at least I didn't have to do that. I couldn't tell if it was boredom, anxiety, or both that were holding me captive.

I got up to close the door quietly. I didn't like the idea of my conversations being overheard. I shot an email to Peyton, letting her know that I was ready to call. Even at fifteen, my parents wouldn't let me have a smartphone. Their reasoning was beyond me. 

I knew she'd answer almost immediately. I went ahead and sent the invite to her, and sure enough, Peyton jumped on a few seconds later.

"Hey," she exclaimed, bubbly as usual. Quarantine seemed to be giving her more energy instead of draining her like it was me. It probably had something to do with the fact that she was introverted while I was extroverted. "How are you?"

"Fine," I replied. I adjusted the camera so the lighting wasn't so harsh on my face.

She gave me a skeptical look. It felt like her eyes were daggers piercing my skin. She'd always been able to read me better than almost anyone. Of course, a few months of almost-dating and seeing each other more often than not had given her that ability. We knew each other inside and out, even though we'd decided we didn't want to have that kind of relationship anymore. It was like we were brother and sister.

"How are you really?" she asked again.

I sighed. This girl had to be able to read my mind. "Fine."

"Marcus! You're not fine. What's up?" she asked. I think it came across harsher than she meant it to. I finally gave in. Her concerned look was difficult to ignore.

"Look, I know I came out to my parents–wait," I paused. "Is your dad in there?" She shook her head. I breathed a sigh of relief. Her dad had the overprotective habit of hovering around when we were on Skype together just because I was a guy and she was a girl. "I know I came out as bisexual to my parents a few months ago, but I still think they don't believe me. Or either they don't accept me. You know?" I stuttered.

She nodded sympathetically. I'd come out to her about three weeks before I did to my parents. In fact, she'd been the one to convince me to tell them. It had been a rocky road, but it was getting better. Well, it was getting better with her at least. With my parents, it was a different story.

"Marcus, it says multiple times in the Bible that what you're thinking is, well, wrong. It says a man should not sleep with a man as with a woman and such an act is detestable and punished by death in the Old Testament. But—"

"Peyton, I thought we were past this. I thought you agreed not to try to change me," I said, cutting her off. She rolled her eyes.

"Give me a second to finish," she answered, playfully slapping the camera. "I think what you're doing is wrong. But it's you, not me, so I won't try to change it. Actually, I'll do more than just not try to change it. I'll stand by you even if no one else does. Marcus, I still love you even if it's not the way it was originally. I'll always love you. You know that." Her voice softened on the last sentence, giving her words a gentle tone.