Coming to terms with his sexuality, Theodore Moore is a seventeen year old who is just about getting by. He makes minimum wage and has aspiring, out-of-reach dreams to become a lawyer.
Violent and aggressive, Antony Barbosa is everything wrong with...
I knock on the door of Fernanda’s flat, my fingers shaking with nerves. I know Antony told me not to come over, but I couldn’t help it. I can’t leave things on a bad note between us, and I certainly can’t carry on with my days with this festering, annoying feeling between us.
To my surprise, the door is opened by Fernanda’s dad, who scowls down at me like I’m dirt under his shoe. “What?” He mumbles, and I gulp.
“Erm- is Fernanda home?” I asked him, clearing my throat.
“Out.” He answers, before he begins to close the door. I hold my hand out.
“Wait- do you mind if I waited for her?” I asked, and he shrugged his shoulders.
“I couldn’t give two fucks.” He tells me, leaving the door open for me to walk in. He stumbled back through the house before he collapsed onto the couch, laying on his stomach. He mumbles something incoherent under his breath, and I slowly walk through the flat before stopping in the little space between Fernanda and Antony’s room. Both doors were closed.
My hand hovered over Fernanda’s door handle, and even though I know she wasn’t in, a part of me felt too nervous to talk to Antony at the moment. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, my eyes focused on his door. Then, without second guessing it, I took a step and opened his bedroom door, stepping in.
He was sitting on the edge of his bed, something in his hands. He looked up as soon as I walked in, his lips twitching down into a frown. He wore a tattered black hoodie that covered his hair and dark blue jeans that were too big for him, held up with a belt. “What do you want?” He mumbled, his eyes focusing back onto the object in his hands. “I thought I told you not to come over.” He added, and I walked further into the room, closing the door behind me before leaning on it, my hands behind my back.
“I know.” I gulped, and Antony scoffs, shaking his head as he rested his elbows on his knees and held his chin up on his hands, still staring at the ground. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“I think you said all you needed to say, Moore.” He murmurs, and the fact that he isn’t saying my name just takes us ten steps backwards. It takes us back to the Antony that hid his feelings and pretended to be someone he wasn’t. It takes us back to a time when we wouldn’t kiss and hold each other and sneak out at night and be in places where we weren’t supposed to be.
“You have to understand that I can’t lose my job, Antony.” I sighed, running my fingers frustratingly through my curly hair. “I almost did when you were nicking the shop a few months ago.” I tell him, and he looks up at me, a small frown on his face.
“I did what I had to do to get by.” He snapped, placing the object in his hands onto the bed. “You think my dad gives a shit about fucking weekly shopping?” He asked, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I have to fend for myself, Moore, because no one else will. I’m not like you, okay?” He spits, and I blink multiple times, trying to understand what he’s telling me.
“I’m not comparing.” I say quietly, taking a cautious step towards him. Antony’s eyes lift to me a little, wavering slightly. His throat bobs as I approach him, standing opposite him. He refused to look up at me. “I’m not comparing our situations, Antony.” I tell him, and he clears his throat, rubbing the tip of his nose before he scooches on the bed, his back resting against the wall.
“I don’t-” He huffs, glancing up at me for a second. “I don’t know what you want from this, but…” He shakes his head. “It can’t be more.” He cleared his throat. I frown in confusion.
“What are you talking about?”
“This.” He gestures between us.
“What about it?”
Antony huffs, his jaw clenching. He looks up at the ceiling, for a few seconds. “It can’t go anywhere.” He shrugged his shoulders, running his fingers through his hair. I stare down at him, trying to compose myself. I feel my hands shake from beside me, and it takes all my composure to keep my breath from shaking. “We can still do shit together, but if anyone finds out…” He shook his head. “My dad will fucking kill me.” He sniffed.
“No one knows.” I remind him.
“I woke up in your fucking house, Moore! Your brother could have been there, or your parents, and if anyone finds out, I’m dead!” He yells, and I step away from him, shaking my head.
“They won’t find out. Even if they do, my family can keep a secret.” I tell him, but he only scoffs and jumps off his bed, turning away from me. His hands are on his hips and his head is bowed and I think this is it. This is how Antony ends whatever is going on between us. He’s shutting us down and I think I might cry.
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