peaches ; cth+afi ✓

clingstone

age 11

calum is selling peaches again. he's had a few people come by and buy a couple of peaches and he's considering that a success. the only that's weird about today is that ashton hasn't came by. usually, the curly haired boy comes by everyday and buys a peach.

calum frowns when he sees that it's nearly dark and the boy still hasn't shown up.

calum is starting to pack up his things when ashton runs over to him. he's got a black eye that calum raises his eyebrows at.

"where did that come from?" calum asks.

"oh... i just got in a fight," ashton shrugs before handing calum eighty-seven cents.

calum hands him a peach and puts the change in his jar.

"thanks, ash," he shouts at the boy's retreating figure.

he gets no reply and just finishes packing up his things before heading home.

~

when calum arrives at his house, he hears shouting and sighs, realizing that his father has probably had too much whiskey. he quietly walks to his room trying to avoid being seen.

luckily, he's successful. as soon as he enters his bedroom, he puts his jar on his dresser and lies down in his bed, trying to go to sleep.

the shouting stops for a minute and calum thinks it's finally over, but then it just gets louder. he covers his ears to block out the noise, but it doesn't really help. he feels tears start to well up in eyes and he begins sniffling. why can't they just get along?

~

ashton limps home after buying a peach from calum. he never eats them, because he doesn't really like peaches, but he's heard that calum's family has it rough, so he buys a peach everyday.

he knows he's in for a rough night when he walks into his house. the usual laughter that fills the home is completely silent. the tension is almost tangible when he walks into the living room.

"ashton fletcher irwin!" his father shouts.

ashton flinches a little at the booming voice.

"mr. smith told me that he caught you kissing his son today."

ashton looks away from his father's gaze.

"is this true?"

ashton nods in reply.

"look at me," his dad shouts.

ashton looks up and flinches a little at the look of pure disgust on his dad's face.

"i won't have a faggot living in my home. you hear me? you're going to your grandma's house until the end of summer. if you're not better by then, we'll have to send you somewhere to get rid of that disease."

ashton nods again.

"go get packed. you're leaving tomorrow."

ashton rushes upstairs and begins to pack his things. he is wiping tears away the entire time.

in his mind he can't stop the constant thought that his father hates him. he doesn't want to be this way. he wants to like little girls in their stupid dresses and bows, but he can't.

ashton finishes packing his clothes and cries himself to sleep.

a/n: well, that went down a more depressing road that expected. as of now, i'll try to update this weekly. thanks for reading!
lots of love,
tay