𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐏𝐒𝐎 | ᴍɪʟʟᴀʀᴅ ɴᴜʟʟɪɴɢꜱ

𝟏𝟕] 𝐆𝐀𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐂 (𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄!)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ GAY PANIC (PART ONE)!

     BEING CHASED FOR YOUR LIFE WAS REALLY ONE WAY TO GET YOUR ADRENALINE PUMPING. We charged down the street, our feet pounding divots into the gravel, the angry voices gradually fading behind us.

     At the first corner I made a skidding turn to escape their line of sight, cutting through a muddy yard, where squawking chickens dove out of my way, and then an open lot, where a line of women stood waiting to pump water from an old well, their heads turning as I flew past.

     "Hey, where'd the Waiting Woman go?" I called to Jacob, my lungs barely being able to put the sentence out.

     But then we came to a low wall and had to concentrate on vaulting it--plant the hand, lift the feet, swing over.

     I landed in a busy path where I was nearly run down by a speeding cart. The driver yelled something derogatory about my mother as his horse's flank brushed my chest, leaving hoof prints and a wheel track just inches from my toes.

     I had no idea what was happening. I understood only two things: that I was quite possibly in the midst of losing my mind, and
that I needed to get away from people until I could figure out whether or not I actually was.

     To that end, I dashed into an alley behind two rows of cottages, where it seemed there would be lots of hiding places, and made for the edge of town. I slowed to a fast walk, hoping that a muddy and bedraggled Mexican-American person who was not running would attract somewhat less attention than one who was.

     My attempt to act normal was not helped by the fact that every little noise or fleeting movement made Jacob jump. I nodded and waved to a woman hanging laundry, but like everyone else she just stared at me.

     We walked faster.

     We heard a strange noise behind us and ducked into an outhouse. As we waited there, hunkering behind the half-closed door, my eyes scanned the graffitied walls.

     Dooleys a buggerloving arsehumper.

     Wot, no sugar?

     Finally, a dog slinked by, trailed by a litter of yapping puppies. I let out my breath and began to relax a little. Collecting my nerves, I stepped back into the alley, Jacob following closely after.

     Something grabbed me by the hair. Before we had even had a chance to cry out, a hand whipped around from behind and pressed something sharp to my throat.

     "Scream and I'll cut you," came a voice.

     Jacob squealed softly, but luckily he wasn't the one with a knife to his neck.

     Keeping the blade to my neck, my assailant pushed me against the outhouse wall and stepped around to face me. To my great surprise, it wasn't one of the men from the pub.

     It was the girl. She wore a simple white dress and a hard expression, her face strikingly pretty even though she appeared to be giving serious thought to gouging out my windpipe.

     "What are you?" she hissed.

     "An-uh- -I'm an American," I stammered, not quite sure what she was asking. "I'm Calypso-the other one being held against their will is Jacob."

     She pressed the knife harder against my throat, her hand shaking. She was scared--which meant she was dangerous.

     "What were you doing in the house?" she demanded. "Why are you chasing me?"