Learn How to Love (Boy x Boy)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫

A stream of brown liquid poured into my mug, the strong aroma of espresso wafting up from the steaming drink. I glanced over my shoulder. Mom was sitting on the table, dangling her legs over the side of it with a blunt in one hand and an upside-down newspaper in the other. Her brows were knit in confusion as she stared at it, as if she was actually comprehending all the shit compiled into half a dozen pieces of paper. Dad was out in the garage smoking pot and watching re-runs of old westerns while yelling at no one in particular. At least I think Mom was planning on working today, but I had no intentions of going to school. I just didn't feel like dealing with Luke fucking Salazar, Justin, or any of the Douche Squad. It wasn't like Mom would be high enough to remember to ground me if the school called asking where I was. 

I slid the cup of coffee across the table towards her. Mom stared at it blankly, as if she wasn't sure what it was. I sighed. "I put vodka in it," I lied. A dumb smile spread across her face and she picked it up. She lifted it to her lips and tilted her head back to gulp it down. She was too stoned to realize there actually wasn't any vodka in it, but now she'd be awake enough when she went to do god knows what. I didn't really like my parents, but that didn't mean I wanted them dead. I liked my treehouse, if they died than I would have to go into foster care. Before I would've been able to live with my grandma, but now that wasn't exactly an option. I'd have to leave Sadie, too. No matter how much she annoyed me she was practically my whole life now.

"What time am I supposed to leave again?" Mom questioned, hopping down from the table. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun, and I could see dandruff on her shoulders. It was difficult to convince her to shower. I don't think she can tell shampoo or conditioner apart. Who knows what she puts in her hair. Might as well be barbeque sauce, she wouldn't be able to tell the difference. She was wearing a paper-thin floral shirt and ripped jeans. It was a fairly normal outfit, except for the stains on her shirt and the fact that her jeans were on backwards. If anyone mentioned it, she claimed it was a fashion statement. 

"8:00," I replied. I glanced at the clock. It read 7:50, but I set it an hour ahead to motivate my mom to leave early. The sooner she was out of the house, the better. It usually took her like an hour to arrive at her dark alleyway anyways. I leaned against the counter, munching on a lukewarm eggo waffle. The toaster had been broken for years. It either barely baked your waffle or burnt it to a crisp.

Mom rolled her eyes. "Ugh, okay." She crushed the blunt between two fingers and tossed it in the trash can. "Make sure you take that out by the way," she murmured, pointing lazily at the half-full plastic can. I nodded. I was in charge of keeping the house clean. They didn't go anywhere but the garage, kitchen, bathroom, and their own bedroom. Their bedroom was a total pigsty, so was their bathroom, but I did my best to keep the kitchen and the rooms they didn't touch as clean as possible. The garage was pretty messed up too, but no one actually had a clean garage outside of spring cleaning season. 

She grabbed her empty purse off of the table and slung it over her shoulder. She grabbed the cup of coffee, drained the rest of it, and then made her way out the front door. The screen door slammed behind her. I shut the front door that she had forgotten too, and picked up her dirty cup and scooped the ash particles off of the table and into the trash. Why did she have to be so messy? I heard a banging sound from the garage, and jumped. Just the TV... 

"Stupid fucking parents..." I spat.

"DAD!" I hollered. "ARE YOU WORKING TODAY?!"

"NO I DON'T TWERK!"

My eye twitched slightly. I tossed the mug into the sink. I'd wash it later. Dad would spend the rest of the day in his man cave, pissing in bottles whenever he had to go instead of leaving the comfort of his garage. He wouldn't even hear me walking around, which meant I was safe to hang out in my treehouse until this all blew over.

BANG BANG BANG!

Someone was knocking at the door. Well, knocking was an under statement. I figured it was mom, convinced she had left something behind. I walked over to the door. I turned the knob, and was tossed backwards as the door flew open.

"Fuck!" I cried, landing hard on my ass. I clutched my nose, tears stinging my eyes. I couldn't believe it wasn't bleeding. I looked up, prepared to ask my mom what the actual fuck she was doing. I stared in disbelief. "Luke?!" I exclaimed. 

Luke stood in the doorway, his fists clenched in anger. He was wearing a black skeleton jacket over a white T-shirt, a weird striped beanie, and Hello Kitty pajama pants. "What the fuck is wrong with you Kylar!" he shrieked, stamping his foot. His entire body was quivering with fury.

I held my nose. "Why are you in my house?!"

Luke reached up a hand and ripped off his beanie. Two things popped up from his head. Cat ears? I narrowed my eyes in confusion. Luke fucking Salazar was wearing cat ears? "I know this was you!" he cried. "Your fucking witchy ass grandma placed a curse on me or something! I fucking know one of you did this shit!"

I frowned. "Are you wearing Hello Kitty pajamas?"

Luke glanced at me, then his face turned bright red. "Shut up! They're my older sister's- I, that's not the point!" He grabbed his head. "LOOK AT THESE!"

I staggered to my feet, rubbing my nose gingerly. "You broke down my door to tell me you like wearing cat ears?" I mumbled. "I don't care dude. Be a furry."

Luke's face turned even brighter. "Shut the fuck up, Kylar! I know you and your grandma did this shit. I have fucking cat ears-  and a tail!" He reached back, and that's when I saw something sticking out of his pants. A long, narrow tail was lashing back and forth behind him. I stared at in disbelief.

"Is that a buttplug or something?"

Luke stamped his foot. "I swear to god I'm going to beat the shit out of you if you don't fix this right now!"

I stepped closer to him. "You want me to fix your feminine side?"

Luke threw his hands up. "You're fucking ridiculous. You can't tell me that you're stupid grandmother didn't do this to me." Luke grabbed my hand and yanked it up towards his head. "Feel them, fucking feel them Kylar. They're real. I have fucking cat ears, and a fucking cat tail!" 

My fingers brushed over the tip of one of the ears, and it flicked at my touch, folding over itself. Holy shit... "Where did you get ears from?" I asked.

Luke slapped me, his hand cracking across my face. I stumbled backwards, holding my cheek in shock. "You cursed me you fucking Harry Potter knock-off. You and your stupid grandma. But she's dead, isn't she? Which means you need to fix this right fucking now."

"You slapped me!" I cried. 

"And I'll do it again! Look at me!"

"CARSON!" my dad bellowed. "THE FUCK IS GOING ON IN THERE?! I THOUGHT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE AT SCHOOL. THAT'D BETTER NOT BE A FUCKING GIRL."

Shit. "We need to leave, now," I hissed. My dad had a little habit of trying to beat the shit out of anyone that I brought over. My dad had schizophrenia. He barely trusted me, and only trusted my mom when they were both stoned out of their mind. Remember how I said he liked old westerns? Well he had guns. A lot of guns in a safe in the garage, and I could already sense him trying to remember the code. Dad would probably scold me for not being at school, but he'd start smoking and forget all about it. But he wouldn't forget about Luke.

"I'm not going anywhere until you fucking fix this."

I grabbed Luke's arm. "Seriously, we need to leave. My dad cannot see you here. I'm supposed to be at school. So are you."

"I'm not going to school like this!"

"What if someone saw you come here? My dad is going to flip out. We need to get to the backyard, to my treehouse, before he sees you." I tightened my fingers around his arm and started sprinting. We flew past the table, down the carpeted hallway and out the back door. I drowned out Luke's protests behind me and slammed the door shut behind us. I dragged him across the backyard, towards my treehouse. I heard footsteps echo up the stairs. Dad was coming, and he was coming fast.