"Hey mom," Chase greets, letting the kitchen door swing behind him. The kitchen is huge and professional. A large double oven sits in the wall with light gold cupboards above and below it. An eight burner stove top sits on the black granite counters, the cupboards a light golden. Preston thinks back to the parts of the house he's already seen and something seems to click in his mind. The house has a color scheme, dark oak and light golden wood along with cream, white and black. It's beautiful and definitely expensive. The counters take up most of the room with four walls of them and one side open. An island sits in the center, one side of it with a sink while the other side is higher up with a ledge for four stools to slide under. This is where Chase plunks himself, atop one of the bar stools with his upper body leaning upon the counter top. He smiles at the woman standing in front of the stainless steel stove top. All the appliances are stainless steel, including the massive double fridge, microwave that sits in its own cuby above the stove top, and the dishwasher which fits in beside the fridge.
The woman turns around with a smile, her light pink lips parted, ready to say something, when her brown eyes settle on Preston awkwardly standing near the kitchen door.
"Who's your friend, Chase?" she asks, smiling politely at me with a motherly aura about her. She pats her short dark brown curls down with a peach manicured hand, making sure every strand is perfectly placed.
"Oh, that's Preston," he explains, gesturing towards an uncomfortable Preston who shifts his weight to his other foot.
"Oh, well, hello Preston, I'm Chase's mother, Mrs. Underwood, but please call me Eliza. Any friend of Chase is welcome in our home," she says, trying to make him feel comfortable. But little does she know, all she's accomplished is making him feel even more anxious because he can't help but think, 'I'm not his friend.'
"So," Chase begins, "...when's dinner?"
Eliza sighs, shaking her head with slight amusement.
"Boys," she mutters, as if that summed it all up. She sighs again. "6 o'clock, like it usually is."
"OK," Chase says, glancing at the glowing green numbers on the microwave which states that it is only 4. He frowns and gets up from the stool. He heads for the massive double stainless steel fridge and opens the right door.
Eliza turns back to Preston with a humorous smile as she rolls her eyes. Preston shyly laughs.
"Anyway, are you going to be staying for dinner, Preston?" Eliza asks.
"Um..." Preston thinks, glancing at Chase who seems to not have noticed his mom and Preston talking as his head stays stuck in the fridge, searching endlessly for something to eat.
"I-I guess, if you guys don't mind."
"Pish posh, we'd be happy to have the company. It's not everyday Chase brings a friend home."
Preston's gaze flickers to Chase in disbelief. When Preston first met Chase not even an hour ago he immediately got the impression that he was Mr. Popular and would have tons of friends. But apparently he was wrong.
Chase finally lifts his head from the fridge with a couple of cupcakes in his hand while another is currently being chewed whole in his mouth. A bottle of root beer dangling from the other hand. He looks at his mom before turning his attention to Preston and motioning with his head towards a set of back stairs behind Preston. Chase nods at his mom in goodbye before they set off up the back staircase, which is about the size of a normal stairway with walls on either side and a landing half way up. On the second floor, they turn right and walk up the hallway, past the grand staircase, and to the first door on the left. Chase walks into the giant room with ease, whereas Preston stops in the doorway and looks around the room in awe. It's huge, with wooden floors matching the ones downstairs, a king size bed straight ahead from the door, french doors leading out onto a balcony beside it. A private balcony, he might add. The room sits on the front of the house, which means it has a wonderful view of the treetops and past that, the city. Preston has never seen something more beautiful as he watches the rain pound the white balcony and it's golden edging that lines the top of the white three and a half foot wall that acts as a safety guard so people don't fall to their death. Chase pulls the black curtains across, blocking the outside from sight and making the room become even more dim until he flicks on the ceiling fan over head, the vaulted ceilings at least eight feet high or more. Preston goes back to examining the rest of the room. To his left is a double door, the same color as the rest of the house, and beside it is a single door left ajar. Inside the half open door is darkness, but Preston can just make out the outlines of a private bathroom with a Jacuzzi tub and a walk in shower built for two. On his right is an entertainment center, a few beenbag chairs set up in front of it. A flat screen TV bigger than any Preston has ever seen sits in the dark oak wooden stand. Many machines decorate the wood with white, black and silver. Games and movies galore are stacked and shelved, some even lying in a pile on the floor beside the stand because of the lack of room. Another stand sits beside it, this one housing a stereo system and shelf after shelf of CDs. Preston can't believe his eyes; this guy has everything! On either side of his bed are nightstands, each with a lamp and some article or other. A trash can sits on the other side of one of these nightstands.
Biting his lower lip, Preston stuffs his hands in his pockets as he drops his gaze to the floor, not wanting to process the many other things in the room that he could never have. It all just reminds him how much different their two worlds are and how horrible his life seems. Seriously, he didn't even own a stereo or CD or other teenage item. The only thing Preston has to his name is the clothes on his back, a few other bits of clothing at the Tates house, and a few pictures of his family. That's it, no posters on the walls, no cell phone to constantly text his friends on -which he doesn't have any friends either- no stereo to blare, and certainly not a flat screen TV in his room with enough games, movies and CDs to fill an electronic store. This makes Preston stare at his beat up old sneakers with shame as he feels his stomach churn. He's trash, just like everyone tells him.
"Here," Chase interrupts his thoughts, tossing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt at him. He catches it and looks from it to Chase, confused. Chase sighs. "Dude, my mom will kill me if I let you wander around soaked like that, plus you're not sitting on my bed wet."
Preston nods, understanding, but doesn't move even as Chase turns back around to the six drawer dresser and starts prowling through it looking for something to wear. He still doesn't move as Chase slips his shirt over his head and drops the wet cloth to the floor with a watery squish. Next comes the jeans, which lands on top of the shirt. But as Chase goes to slip his boxers off, which are pasted to his skin, showing off every curve down there, he looks at Preston suspiciously.
"What are you doing?" He asks, raising a brow in inquiry.
Preston stammers for a reply. "I...um...I-I...uh...well...um..."
Chase just chuckles and says, "Dude, shut up and get changed."
Chase shakes his head while a blushing Preston slowly slips his dripping shirt off over his head while turning his back on a now fully naked Chase.
YOU ARE READING
A Better Life
Teen Fiction>>Boyxboy, LGBT fiction<< Preston Anders doesn't like living with the Tates, but what else can he when they're his foster parents? Preston's life has never been easy, and there never seems to be anyone he can count on. But when he meets Chase Underw...
