The Green Rose bxb

Chapter 9

Oliver's POV

Oh my god. Did that just happen? It did. I'm gay and Sam is my boyfriend. Okay. I got this. "Boys," Mom calls from the other room as Sam and I pause our conversation. "Dinner's ready."

"We'll be right out," I call back.

"It's been that long already?" Sam looks slightly shocked as I shrug.

He takes his denim jacket off, laying it on my bed before we make our way to the dining room. Mom is setting the plates down as we sit down. "Thanks, Mom." I smile as she sits across from Sam and me.

"Yeah," Sam nods. "Thank you."

"So, what have you kids been talking about the past few hours?" She smiles.

"Just school, random stuff," I shrug before taking a bite of the spaghetti.

"And your parents know you're here?" Mom turns to Sam who seems shocked as he finishes chewing his food before speaking.

"My parents are, uh, gone."

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, it was a long time ago and I live on my own now," Sam shrugs.

"Well, don't you have a guardian?"

"No, I'm eighteen," he shakes his head. "Moved out once I got the chance."

"Oh, well good for you," we all continue eating, and when we're finished Sam and I wash dishes together.

"Thanks," I pass him one of the plates for him to rinse.

"For what?" He asks.

"For coming over and helping me," I explain. "It means a lot."

He smirks. "That's what friends are for," he nudges my shoulder as he sets one of the dishes on the counter to dry. "Besides," he gets closer as he lowers his voice. "What else is a boyfriend for?"

"Shut up," I smile as we continue washing dishes. When we're done we watch a show with Mom for a bit before going back to my room. Sam and I talk about random topics while sitting on my bed.

"What do you do that you're most proud of?" I ask.

Sam answers almost immediately. "My art, for sure. What about you?"

"I don't know," I shrug. "Maybe my grades."

"What? You have to be proud of something besides your grades," he seems more shocked than anything.

"I don't know," I shrug. "My grades are really good and I read a lot."

"There's nothing else?" I shake my head. "Well, I guess we'll have to change that."

"How?"

"I don't know," he shrugs. "I guess we'll have to let you try everything and see what you like best. For example; you can try drawing something, right now."

"I can't draw, trust me," I let a nervous chuckle escape my lips as he looks around my room.

"We won't know unless you try," he smirks as he grabs a piece of lined paper and the pencil from my desk. "Here, draw something and I'll try to guess what it is."

"Okay," I shrug and sigh lightly. This is going to look nothing like a bunny but I might as well try.

"There," I hand the paper over and Sam gives it a confused look.

"Is that a mouse carrying a firehose?"

"No," I laugh at his depiction of it. "It's supposed to be a bunny."

"Oh, okay. I can kind of see it now," he nods. "Y'know, if I squint and tilt my head to the side."

"Shut up, I told you I can't draw," I playfully hit his shoulder as we both laugh.

"Okay, we'll try something else," we set the paper and pencil aside before we both sit with our backs against the wall at the head of my bed. "Have you ever tried writing?"

"Like, poetry and stuff?" I turn to face him as he uses a marker to draw on his arm.

"Yeah," he caps the marker. "You read a lot, maybe you could write your own poems or books or something."

"I don't know," I pick at my fingers again.

"You don't have to," he gently put his hand between mine, stopping my fingers from picking at each other. "It's just a suggestion," he smiles reassuringly as we sit with our hands intertwined.

"Whose motorcycle is in the driveway?" Dad booms as the front door opens.

"Shit, my dad," I mutter as I let go of Sam's hand.

"Did I just hear Oliver Smith swear for the first time?" he grins as I get off the bed.

"Yeah, now isn't the time. Dad's gonna freak when he finds out that's your bike," I hand Sam his jacket as Mom starts explaining that it's Sam's bike in the other room.

"Who the hell is Sam?" Dad's voice is followed by his heavy footsteps coming towards my room.

"Be as polite as you can," I whisper to Sam. He nods and Dad barges through the door as he puts his jacket on.

"Hi, sir, I'm Sam," he puts his hand out for Dad to shake it but he ignores him entirely.

"What have I told you about having friends over?" Dad narrows his eyes at me.

"You have to know about it and they can't stay past seven," I mutter the rule I've never had to pay attention to.

"Sir, I'm the one that insisted," Sam lies. "It's my fault."

"No, it's not," I counter. "I asked him to come over to do homework and time got away from us."

"You, get out of my house," Dad roughly points his finger at Sam's chest, making him go back slightly.

"I'll walk you to the door," I grab Sam's helmet before grabbing Sam by the hand and leading him through the house before Dad can do anything else to make him angry. "I'll see you at school tomorrow," I tell him as I open the front door.

"Ollie, don't let him talk to you like that," Sam stands in the doorway. "You're your own person."

"I'll handle this," I insist. "Just go home so he doesn't try to stop us from hanging out again."

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow," we both nod and he goes to his bike. I watch him put his helmet on before driving away.