( 016. ) 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘺

178 12 47
                                    

CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
Family Therapy
Hawkins, Indiana. 1984

A FEW DAYS HAD passed since Mary Brown sent them protesting in front of the homo railroad's homo house

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

A FEW DAYS HAD passed since Mary Brown sent them protesting in front of the homo railroad's homo house. Steve didn't know how many, exactly, because he had lost track of time on the candy-coloured estate. Eddie still wouldn't talk to him safe some one word replies and Billy and him just coexisted, none of them really willing to address the gay elephant in the room, even when they spent a lot of time together.

The grass tickled Steve's exposed ankles and the sun blinded him. He squinted. Neither he nor Billy next to him said a word, but Steve was content just with that: He seemed to soak up Billy's proximity like sun rays and it made him feel warm. It had been like that for the past few days. Just the two of them at the edge of the property. Sometimes, Steve would be bold and take Billy's hand. Billy never pulled back, and the faintest hint at a smile was dancing around the corners of his mouth.

Today, Steve leaned in even closer, his head resting on Billy's shoulder, warm from the sun. He half expected Billy to protest, but then the other wrapped his arm around Steve, still not talking. His face looked thoughtful, and Steve was wondering what it could be that occupied his thoughts.

Steve had been thinking a lot these past few days. Something about that conversation between Mrs Brown and Larry seemed to have struck a nerve. What if he was right, and this was no way to cure homosexuality, but just a handbook to hide it. He never before felt the things he felt when he kissed Billy the other night. Even now, cuddled up close to the other, he felt warm on the inside, as if something that had been missing from him his entire life had finally come home. What if this was just what he was? Of course it would be easier to just be cured of it. But how exactly are feelings supposed to be cured? They were exactly that: feelings.

He was deeply engaged in his thoughts when he felt Billy tensing up next to him. His eyes were on the road, so Steve followed his gaze to see a car coming towards the estate. He furrowed his brows when Billy put his arm away.

„Shit." Billy's voice was completely free of the usual snottiness, replaced by something that made Steve uneasy: naked fear.

„What's wrong?" he put his hand onto Billy's shoulder to reassure him that he was there for him and everything was going to be okay. He almost felt sappy. Who was he turning into? A little pansy? It was almost pathetic.

Billy pushed his hand away, a lot gentler than he would've two weeks ago, shaking his head. „That there car was my dad," he bit his lower lip, „so it's best we stay as far apart from each other as possible for the day." His eyes met Steve's now, an urgency lying in them that he had never seen before.

Steve nodded, holding his breath. There seemed to be something else on Billy's mind, and a part of Steve hoped that it had to do with them or whatever it was that had been blossoming between them recently. Billy's breath brushed against his lips and his eyes started to dart around.

True Directions ✷ Harringrove  ✓Where stories live. Discover now