Sonder

Beau

Beau had been seeing Declan all of freshmen year. Their rendezvous had become ritualistic—much like Beau's morning routine, shaving his face and body, ensuring every hair follicle was untraceable. Declan didn't like body hair; he barely accepted his sexuality.

Declan treated Beau like shit in public, often leading the verbal assaults within the school's tight hallways. If only his friends knew what he did with Beau every night.

Beau had a crush on Declan since middle school. He liked Declan's brutish nature, and he knew every girl coveted the athlete. He felt a rush when Beau commanded him, letting him do things he knew were shameful to everyone around him.

But it came at a cost, he'd kept their secret for too long. Excruciatingly long, he couldn't bear it most days. At lunch the girls gossiped about their boyfriends. They bought their girlfriends jewelry, flowers, and cards. Declan wouldn't and couldn't do that for him.

All Beau had were scratch marks on his back. An occasional hickey, the only proof he wasn't living in a disillusioned fantasy. He held onto someday, though.

Someday he might be shown in the light.

***

They met each night in the dimly-lit park near Beau's house—half a mile to be exact. Beau counted each step, as he waited at the light pole for Declan's metallic Jeep.

Declan always drove as far from the city as possible in the dead of night. That was their time, while everyone slept soundly, they stayed up carnally injecting each other into their systems.

Their lips locked—pitch blackness surrounding the car. "Tell me you're only mine," Declan demanded, pulling Beau's hair tightly in a fist.

Beau winced, "I'm yours."

"What's with the face?"

Declan stared. Beau rolled his eyes, "Remember when we first came out here? We used to get out and watch the stars. You were gentle."

"And what's your point?" Declan was irate.

"Never mind."

"Fucking Christ. I don't need shit from you, too."

"Excuse me?" Beau felt his blood boiling. Declan had changed since the fall semester started. He was stressed, maintaining excellent grades while bouncing between basketball in the fall and baseball in spring.

"I have so much shit going on, and now you're being dramatic. What do you want from me, Beau? You want me to tell the world I'm a fag for you?"

Beau sighed. He was ready to go home: "Declan, I don't want shit from you. You treat me like I'm cheap. You promised you'd start treating me like an equal, and all I hear are your first-world fucking problems in this uncomfortable Jeep."

The car ride home was silent. Beau didn't mind, he appreciated time to think. He knew he loved Declan, despite more reasons to despise him. The two feelings were blending together.

Beau slammed Declan's door shut, "Have a great night."

Beau wished he had a friend to confide in. He wanted to call Nicolette or Layla—even Diana. They wouldn't understand. He didn't want a pity party; what good does pity do for a mess he created?

***

Beau woke up the next morning exhausted. His eyes were baggier than normal, he had less sleep. Normally he'd do his beauty regimen, but he opted for the easier choice: hair pulled back and sweats.

"You look awful," Diana said. Beau just beamed his icy stare at her.

"You need your roots done, babe. Talk to me after you get your hair appointment set up."

Nicolette's mouth made an O-shape, facing away to hold down laughter. Diana stormed away, her gold cross necklace swinging.

"Are you feeling alright, B?" Nicolette softly asked.

Nicolette was Beau's best friend. They'd known each other since elementary school, she was the first person Beau confided his sexuality in. The two were inseparable, but Beau hadn't felt confident in sharing his secret relationship with her—he knew she would've encouraged him to walk away.

Beau sheepishly smiled, "I had a long night. My melatonin didn't work."

Nicolette nodded, her face told Beau she didn't quite believe his alibi. He was too tired to orchestrate an entire lie, and he also hated lying to her.

Declan glossed by, knocking Beau into the golden lockers, "Move it, queer."

Beau usually participated in the game, but he felt like changing the game up: "Watch it, fucker."

Declan's grin faded into a pensive thought. His face flushed, the typical red cheeks now greyed. He clenched his fist before abruptly turning away, the other athletes stared a hole into Beau before following their leader's march.

Nicolette's eyes widened; she hesitated before asking, "What was that about? You've never stood up to him!"

"Shit changes. I'm a queen, why not start acting like one. The status quo is changing this year." Beau scurried off to class, stopping himself, "Oh, by the way, Declan's house party Friday night?"

"Yeah?" Nicolette questioned.

"We're going."